[Illustration: She suffered her hand to remain]

LORD KILGOBBIN

by

Charles Lever

TO THE MEMORY OF ONEWHOSE COMPANIONSHIP MADE THE HAPPINESS OF A LONG LIFE, AND WHOSE LOSS HAS LEFT ME HELPLESS, I DEDICATE THIS WORK, WRITTEN IN BREAKING HEALTH AND BROKEN SPIRITS. THE TASK, THAT ONCE WAS MY JOY AND MY PRIDE, I HAVE LIVED TO FIND ASSOCIATED WITH MY SORROW:IT IS NOT, THEN, WITHOUT A CAUSE I SAY, I HOPE THIS EFFORT MAY BE MY LAST. 

CHARLES LEVER. 

TRIESTE, _January 20, 1872_. 

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE

'Lord Kilgobbin' appeared originally as a serial, (illustrated by LukeFildes) in 'The Cornhill Magazine, ' commencing in the issue for October1870, and ending in the issue for March 1872. It was first published inbook form in three volumes in 1872, with the following title-page:

LORD KILGOBBIN | A TALE OF IRELAND IN OUR OWN TIME | BY | CHARLES LEVER, LL. D. | AUTHOR OF | 'THE BRAMLEIGHS OF BISHOP'S FOLLY, ' 'THAT BOY OFNORCOTT'S, ' | ETC. , ETC. | IN THREE VOLUMES | [VOL. I. ] | LONDON | SMITH, ELDER, AND CO. , 15 WATERLOO PLACE | 1872. | [THE RIGHT OF TRANSLATION ISRESERVED. ]

CONTENTS

CHAP. I. KILGOBBIN CASTLE II. THE PRINCE KOSTALERGI III. THE CHUMS IV. AT 'TRINITY' V. HOME LIFE AT THE CASTLE VI. THE 'BLUE COAT' VII. THE COUSINS VIII. SHOWING HOW FRIENDS MAY DIFFER IX. A DRIVE THROUGH A BOG X. THE SEARCH FOR ARMS XI. WHAT THE PAPERS SAID OF IT XII. THE JOURNEY TO THE COUNTRY XIII. A SICK-ROOM XIV. AT DINNER XV. IN THE GARDEN AT DUSK XVI. THE TWO 'KEARNEYS' XVII. DICK'S REVERIE XVIII. MATHEW KEARNEY'S 'STUDY' XIX. AN UNWELCOME VISIT XX. A DOMESTIC DISCUSSION XXI. A SMALL DINNER-PARTY XXII. A CONFIDENTIAL TALK XXIII. A HAPHAZARD VICEROY XXIV. TWO FRIENDS AT BREAKFAST XXV. ATLEE'S EMBARRASSMENTS XXVI. DICK KEARNEY'S CHAMBERS XXVII. A CRAFTY COUNSELLOR XXVIII. 'ON THE LEADS' XXIX. ON A VISIT AT KILGOBBIN XXX. THE MOATE STATION XXXI. HOW THE 'GOATS' REVOLTED XXXII. AN UNLOOKED-FOR PLEASURE XXXIII. PLMNUDDM CASTLE, NORTH WALES XXXIV. AT TEA-TIME XXXV. A DRIVE AT SUNRISE XXXVI. THE EXCURSION XXXVII. THE RETURN XXXVIII. O'SHEA'S BARN XXXIX. AN EARLY GALLOP XL. OLD MEMORIES XLI. TWO FAMILIAR EPISTLES XLII. AN EVENING IN THE DRAWING-ROOM XLIII. SOME NIGHT-THOUGHTS XLIV. THE HEAD CONSTABLE XLV. SOME IRISHRIES XLVI. SAGE ADVICE XLVII. REPROOF XLVIII. HOW MEN IN OFFICE MAKE LOVE XLIX. A CUP OF TEA L. CROSS-PURPOSES LI. AWAKENINGS LII. A CHANCE AGREEMENT LIII. A SCRAPE LIV. HOW IT BEFELL LV. TWO J. P. 'S LVI. BEFORE THE DOOR LVII. A DOCTOR LVIII. IN TURKEY LIX. A LETTER-BAG LX. A DEFEAT LXI. A CHANGE OF FRONT LXII. WITH A PASHA LXIII. ATLEE ON HIS TRAVELS LXIV. GREEK MEETS GREEK LXV. IN TOWN LXVI. ATLEB'S MESSAGE LXVII. WALPOLE ALONE LXVIII. THOUGHTS ON MARRIAGE LXIX. AT KILGOBBIN CASTLE LXX. ATLEE'S RETURN LXXI. THE DRIVE LXXII. THE SAUNTER IN TOWN LXXIII. A DARKENED ROOM LXXIV. AN ANGRY COLLOQUY LXXV. MATHEW KEARNEY'S REFLECTIONS LXXVI. VERY CONFIDENTIAL CONVERSATION LXXVII. TWO YOUNG LADIES ON MATRIMONY LXXVIII. A MISERABLE MORNING LXXIX. PLEASANT CONGRATULATIONS LXXX. A NEW ARRIVAL LXXXI. AN UNLOOKED-FOR CORRESPONDENT LXXXII. THE BREAKFAST-ROOM LXXXIII. THE GARDEN BY MOONLIGHT LXXXIV. NEXT MORNING LXXXV. THE END

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

SHE SUFFERED HER HAND TO REMAIN

'WHAT LARK HAVE YOU BEEN ON, MASTER JOE?'

'ONE MORE SITTING I MUST HAVE, SIR, FOR THE HAIR'

'HOW THAT SONG MAKES ME WISH WE WERE BACK AGAIN WHERE I HEARD IT FIRST'

HE ENTERED, AND NINA AROSE AS HE CAME FORWARD

'YOU ARE RIGHT, I SEE IT ALL, ' AND NOW HE SEIZED HER HAND AND KISSED IT

KATE, STILL DRESSED, HAD THROWN HERSELF ON THE BED, AND WAS SOUND ASLEEP

'IS NOT THAT AS FINE AS YOUR BOASTED CAMPAGNA?'

'YOU WEAR A RING OF GREAT BEAUTY--MAY I LOOK AT IT?'

'TRUE, THERE IS NO TENDER LIGHT THERE, ' MUTTERED HE, GAZING AT HER EYES

HE KNELT DOWN ON ONE KNEE BEFORE HER

NINA CAME FORWARD AT THAT MOMENT

NINA KOSTALERGI WAS BUSILY ENGAGED IN PINNING UP THE SKIRT OF HER DRESS

THE BALCONY CREAKED AND TREMBLED, AND AT LAST GAVE WAY

'JUST LOOK AT THE CROWD THAT IS WATCHING US ALREADY'

'I SHOULD LIKE TO HAVE BACK MY LETTERS'

WALPOLE LOOKED KEENLY AT THE OTHER'S FACE AS HE READ THE PAPER

'I DECLARE YOU HAVE LEFT A TEAR UPON MY CHEEK, ' SAID KATE

CHAPTER I

KILGOBBIN CASTLE

Some one has said that almost all that Ireland possesses of picturesquebeauty is to be found on, or in the immediate neighbourhood of, theseaboard; and if we except some brief patches of river scenery on the Noreand the Blackwater, and a part of Lough Erne, the assertion is not devoidof truth. The dreary expanse called the Bog of Allen, which occupies atableland in the centre of the island, stretches away for miles--flat, sad-coloured, and monotonous, fissured in every direction by channels ofdark-tinted water, in which the very fish take the same sad colour. Thistract is almost without trace of habitation, save where, at distantintervals, utter destitution has raised a mud-hovel, undistinguishable fromthe hillocks of turf around it. 

Fringing this broad waste, little patches of cultivation are to be seen:small potato-gardens, as they are called, or a few roods of oats, greeneven in the late autumn; but, strangely enough, with nothing to showwhere the humble tiller of the soil is living, nor, often, any visibleroad to these isolated spots of culture. Gradually, however--but verygradually--the prospect brightens. Fields with inclosures, and a cabin ortwo, are to be met with; a solitary tree, generally an ash, will be seen;some rude instrument of husbandry, or an ass-cart, will show that we areemerging from the region of complete destitution and approaching a land ofat least struggling civilisation. At last, and by a transition that is notalways easy to mark, the scene glides into those rich pasture-lands andwell-tilled farms that form the wealth of the midland counties. Gentlemen'sseats and waving plantations succeed, and we are in a country of comfortand abundance. 

On this border-land between fertility and destitution, and on a tract whichhad probably once been part of the Bog itself, there stood--there standsstill--a short, square tower, battlemented at top, and surmounted with apointed roof, which seems to grow out of a cluster of farm-buildings, sosurrounded is its base by roofs of thatch and slates. Incongruous, vulgar, and ugly in every way, the old keep appears to look down on them--time-wornand battered as it is--as might a reduced gentleman regard the unworthyassociates with which an altered fortune had linked him. This is all thatremains of Kilgobbin Castle. 

In the guidebooks we read that it was once a place of strength andimportance, and that Hugh de Lacy--the same bold knight 'who had won allIreland for the English from the Shannon to the sea'--had taken thiscastle from a native chieftain called Neal O'Caharney, whose family he hadslain, all save one; and then it adds: 'Sir Hugh came one day, with threeEnglishmen, that he might show them the castle, when there came to him ayouth of the men of Meath--a certain Gilla Naher O'Mahey, foster-brotherof O'Caharney himself--with his battle-axe concealed beneath his cloak, and while De Lacy was reading the petition he gave him, he dealt him sucha blow that his head flew off many yards away, both head and body beingafterwards buried in the ditch of the castle. '

The annals of Kilronan further relate that the O'Caharneys became adherentsof the English--dropping their Irish designation, and calling themselvesKearney; and in this way were restored to a part of the lands and thecastle of Kilgobbin--'by favour of which act of grace, ' says the chronicle, 'they were bound to raise a becoming monument over the brave knight, Hughde Lacy, whom their kinsman had so treacherously slain; but they did nomore of this than one large stone of granite, and no inscription thereon:thus showing that at all times, and with all men, the O'Caharneys werefalse knaves and untrue to their word. '

In later times, again, the Kearneys returned to the old faith of theirfathers and followed the fortunes of King James; one of them, MichaelO'Kearney, having acted as aide-de-camp at the 'Boyne, ' and conducted theking to Kilgobbin, where he passed the night after the defeat, and, as thetradition records, held a court the next morning, at which he thanked theowner of the castle for his hospitality, and created him on the spot aviscount by the style and title of Lord Kilgobbin. 

It is needless to say that the newly-created noble saw good reason to keephis elevation to himself. They were somewhat critical times just then forthe adherents of the lost cause, and the followers of King William werekeen at scenting out any disloyalty that might be turned to good accountby a confiscation. The Kearneys, however, were prudent. They entertaineda Dutch officer, Van Straaten, on King William's staff, and gave suchvaluable information besides as to the condition of the country, that nosuspicions of disloyalty attached to them. 

To these succeeded more peaceful times, during which the Kearneys weremore engaged in endeavouring to reconstruct the fallen condition of theirfortunes than in political intrigue. Indeed, a very small portion of theoriginal estate now remained to them, and of what once had produced abovefour thousand a year, there was left a property barely worth eight hundred. 

The present owner, with whose fortunes we are more Immediately concerned, was a widower. Mathew Kearney's family consisted of a son and a daughter:the former about two-and-twenty, the latter four years younger, though toall appearance there did not seem a year between them. 

Mathew Kearney himself was a man of about fifty-four or fifty-six; hale, handsome, and powerful; his snow-white hair and bright complexion, with hisfull grey eyes and regular teeth giving him an air of genial cordiality atfirst sight which was fully confirmed by further acquaintance. So long asthe world went well with him, Mathew seemed to enjoy life thoroughly, andeven its rubs he bore with an easy jocularity that showed what a stoutheart he could oppose to Fortune. A long minority had provided him with aconsiderable sum on his coming of age, but he spent it freely, and when itwas exhausted, continued to live on at the same rate as before, till atlast, as creditors grew pressing, and mortgages threatened foreclosure, hesaw himself reduced to something less than one-fifth of his former outlay;and though he seemed to address himself to the task with a bold spirit anda resolute mind, the old habits were too deeply rooted to be eradicated, and the pleasant companionship of his equals, his life at the club inDublin, his joyous conviviality, no longer possible, he suffered himselfto descend to an inferior rank, and sought his associates amongst humblermen, whose flattering reception of him soon reconciled him to his fallencondition. His companions were now the small farmers of the neighbourhoodand the shopkeepers in the adjoining town of Moate, to whose habits andmodes of thought and expression he gradually conformed, till it becamepositively irksome to himself to keep the company of his equals. Whether, however, it was that age had breached the stronghold of his good spirits, or that conscience rebuked him for having derogated from his station, certain it is that all his buoyancy failed him when away from society, and that in the quietness of his home he was depressed and dispirited toa degree; and to that genial temper, which once he could count on againstevery reverse that befell him, there now succeeded an irritable, peevishspirit, that led him to attribute every annoyance he met with to some faultor shortcoming of others. 

By his neighbours in the town and by his tenantry he was always addressedas 'My lord, ' and treated with all the deference that pertained to suchdifference of station. By the gentry, however, when at rare occasions hemet them, he was known as Mr. Kearney; and in the village post-office, theletters with the name Mathew Kearney, Esq. , were perpetual reminders ofwhat rank was accorded him by that wider section of the world that livedbeyond the shadow of Kilgobbin Castle. 

Perhaps the impossible task of serving two masters is never more palpablydisplayed than when the attempt attaches to a divided identity--when a mantries to be himself in two distinct parts in life, without the slightestmisgiving of hypocrisy while doing so. Mathew Kearney not only did notassume any pretension to nobility amongst his equals, but he would havefelt that any reference to his title from one of them would have been animpertinence, and an impertinence to be resented; while, at the same time, had a shopkeeper of Moate, or one of the tenants, addressed him as otherthan 'My lord, ' he would not have deigned him a notice. 

Strangely enough, this divided allegiance did not merely prevail with theouter world, it actually penetrated within his walls. By his son, RichardKearney, he was always called 'My lord'; while Kate as persistentlyaddressed and spoke of him as papa. Nor was this difference withoutsignification as to their separate natures and tempers. 

Had Mathew Kearney contrived to divide the two parts of his nature, andbequeathed all his pride, his vanity, and his pretensions to his son, while he gave his light-heartedness, his buoyancy, and kindliness to hisdaughter, the partition could not have been more perfect. Richard Kearneywas full of an insolent pride of birth. Contrasting the position of hisfather with that held by his grandfather, he resented the downfall asthe act of a dominant faction, eager to outrage the old race and the oldreligion of Ireland. Kate took a very different view of their condition. She clung, indeed, to the notion of their good blood; but as a thingthat might assuage many of the pangs of adverse fortune, not increase orembitter them; and 'if we are ever to emerge, ' thought she, 'from thispoor state, we shall meet our class without any of the shame of a mushroomorigin. It will be a restoration, and not a new elevation. ' She was a fine, handsome, fearless girl, whom many said ought to have been a boy; but thiswas rather intended as a covert slight on the narrower nature and peevishtemperament of her brother--another way, indeed, of saying that they shouldhave exchanged conditions. 

The listless indolence of her father's life, and the almost completeabsence from home of her brother, who was pursuing his studies at theDublin University, had given over to her charge not only the household, butno small share of the management of the estate--all, in fact, that an oldland-steward, a certain Peter Gill, would permit her to exercise; for Peterwas a very absolute and despotic Grand-Vizier, and if it had not been thathe could neither read nor write, it would have been utterly impossible tohave wrested from him a particle of power over the property. This happydefect in his education--happy so far as Kate's rule was concerned--gaveher the one claim she could prefer to any superiority over him, and hisobstinacy could never be effectually overcome, except by confronting himwith a written document or a column of figures. Before these, indeed, hewould stand crestfallen and abashed. Some strange terror seemed to possesshim as to the peril of opposing himself to such inscrutable testimony--afear, be it said, he never felt in contesting an oral witness. 

Peter had one resource, however, and I am not sure that a similarstronghold has not secured the power of greater men and in higherfunctions. Peter's sway was of so varied and complicated a kind; the dutieshe discharged were so various, manifold, and conflicting; the measureshe took with the people, whose destinies were committed to him, wereso thoroughly devised, by reference to the peculiar condition of eachman--what he could do, or bear, or submit to--and not by any sense ofjustice; that a sort of government grew up over the property full ofhitches, contingencies, and compensations, of which none but the inventorof the machinery could possibly pretend to the direction. The estate being, to use his own words, 'so like the old coach-harness, so full of knots, splices, and entanglements, there was not another man in Ireland could makeit work, and if another were to try it, it would all come to pieces in hishands. '

Kate was shrewd enough to see this; and in the same way that she hadadmiringly watched Peter as he knotted a trace here and supplemented astrap there, strengthening a weak point, and providing for casualties eventhe least likely, she saw him dealing with the tenantry on the property;and in the same spirit that he made allowance for sickness here andmisfortune there, he would be as prompt to screw up a lagging tenant tothe last penny, and secure the landlord in the share of any season ofprosperity. 

Had the Government Commissioner, sent to report on the state ofland-tenure in Ireland, confined himself to a visit to the estate of LordKilgobbin--for so we like to call him--it is just possible that the Cabinetwould have found the task of legislation even more difficult than they havealready admitted it to be. 

First of all, not a tenant on the estate had any certain knowledge of howmuch land he held. There had been no survey of the property for years. 'Itwill be made up to you, ' was Gill's phrase about everything. 'What mattersif you have an acre more or an acre less?' Neither had any one a lease, nor, indeed, a writing of any kind. Gill settled that on the 25th March and25th September a certain sum was to be forthcoming, and that was all. When'the lord' wanted them, they were always to give him a hand, which oftenmeant with their carts and horses, especially in harvest-time. Not thatthey were a hard-worked or hard-working population: they took life veryeasy, seeing that by no possible exertion could they materially betterthemselves; and even when they hunted a neighbour's cow out of their wheat, they would execute the eviction with a lazy indolence and sluggishness thattook away from the act all semblance of ungenerousness. 

They were very poor, their hovels were wretched, their clothes ragged, andtheir food scanty; but, with all that, they were not discontented, and veryfar from unhappy. There was no prosperity at hand to contrast with theirpoverty. The world was, on the whole, pretty much as they always rememberedit. They would have liked to be 'better off' if they knew how, but they didnot know if there were a 'better off, ' much less how to come at it; and ifthere were, Peter Gill certainly did not tell them of it. 

If a stray visitor to fair or market brought back the news that there wasan agitation abroad for a new settlement of the land, that popular oratorswere proclaiming the poor man's rights and denouncing the cruelties ofthe landlord, if they heard that men were talking of repealing the lawswhich secured property to the owner, and only admitted him to a sort ofpartnership with the tiller of the soil, old Gill speedily assured themthat these were changes only to be adopted in Ulster, where the tenantswere rack-rented and treated like slaves. 'Which of you here, ' would hesay, 'can come forward and say he was ever evicted?' Now as the term wasone of which none had the very vaguest conception--it might, for aught theyknew, have been an operation in surgery--the appeal was an overwhelmingsuccess. 'Sorra doubt of it, but ould Peter's right, and there's worseplaces to live in, and worse landlords to live under, than the lord. 'Not but it taxed Gill's skill and cleverness to maintain this quarantineagainst the outer world; and he often felt like Prince Metternich in a likestrait--that it would only be a question of time, and, in the long run, thenewspaper fellows must win. 

From what has been said, therefore, it may be imagined that Kilgobbin wasnot a model estate, nor Peter Gill exactly the sort of witness from whicha select committee would have extracted any valuable suggestions for theconstruction of a land-code. 

Anything short of Kate Kearney's fine temper and genial disposition wouldhave broken down by daily dealing with this cross-grained, wrong-headed, and obstinate old fellow, whose ideas of management all centred in craftand subtlety--outwitting this man, forestalling that--doing everything byhalves, so that no boon came unassociated with some contingency or other bywhich he secured to himself unlimited power and uncontrolled tyranny. 

As Gill was in perfect possession of her father's confidence, to oppose himin anything was a task of no mean difficulty; and the mere thought that theold fellow should feel offended and throw up his charge--a threat he hadmore than once half hinted--was a terror Kilgobbin could not have faced. Nor was this her only care. There was Dick continually dunning her forremittances, and importuning her for means to supply his extravagances. 'Isuspected how it would be, ' wrote he once, 'with a lady paymaster. And whenmy father told me I was to look to you for my allowance, I accepted theinformation as a heavy percentage taken off my beggarly income. What couldyou--what could any young girl--know of the requirements of a man going outinto the best society of a capital? To derive any benefit from associatingwith these people, I must at least seem to live like them. I am received asthe son of a man of condition and property, and you want to bound my habitsby those of my chum, Joe Atlee, whose father is starving somewhere on thepay of a Presbyterian minister. Even Joe himself laughs at the notion ofgauging my expenses by his. 

'If this is to go on--I mean if you intend to persist in this plan--befrank enough to say so at once, and I will either take pupils, or seek aclerkship, or go off to Australia; and I care precious little which of thethree. 

'I know what a proud thing it is for whoever manages the revenue to comeforward and show a surplus. Chancellors of the Exchequer make greatreputations in that fashion; but there are certain economies that lie closeto revolutions; now don't risk this, nor don't be above taking a hint fromone some years older than you, though he neither rules his father's housenor metes out his pocket-money. '

Such, and such like, were the epistles she received from time to time, andthough frequency blunted something of their sting, and their injustice gaveher a support against their sarcasm, she read and thought over them in aspirit of bitter mortification. Of course she showed none of these lettersto her father. He, indeed, only asked if Dick were well, or if he were soongoing up for that scholarship or fellowship--he did not know which, norwas he to blame--'which, after all, it was hard on a Kearney to stoop toaccept, only that times were changed with us! and we weren't what we usedto be'--a reflection so overwhelming that he generally felt unable to dwellon it. 

CHAPTER II

THE PRINCE KOSTALERGI

Mathew Kearney had once a sister whom he dearly loved, and whose sad fatelay very heavily on his heart, for he was not without self-accusings onthe score of it. Matilda Kearney had been a belle of the Irish Court and atoast at the club when Mathew was a young fellow in town; and he had beenvery proud of her beauty, and tasted a full share of those attentions whichoften fall to the lot of brothers of handsome girls. 

Then Matty was an heiress, that is, she had twelve thousand pounds in herown right; and Ireland was not such a California as to make a very prettygirl with twelve thousand pounds an everyday chance. She had numerousoffers of marriage, and with the usual luck in such cases, there werecommonplace unattractive men with good means, and there were clever andagreeable fellows without a sixpence, all alike ineligible. Matty hadthat infusion of romance in her nature that few, if any, Irish girls arefree from, and which made her desire that the man of her choice should besomething out of the common. She would have liked a soldier who had wondistinction in the field. The idea of military fame was very dear to herIrish heart, and she fancied with what pride she would hang upon the armof one whose gay trappings and gold embroidery emblematised the careerhe followed. If not a soldier, she would have liked a great orator, someleader in debate that men would rush down to hear, and whose glowing wordswould be gathered up and repeated as though inspirations; after that apoet, and perhaps--not a painter--a sculptor, she thought, might do. 

With such aspirations as these, it is not surprising that she rejected theoffers of those comfortable fellows in Meath, or Louth, whose militaryglories were militia drills, and whose eloquence was confined to the benchof magistrates. 

At three-and-twenty she was in the full blaze of her beauty; atthree-and-thirty she was still unmarried, her looks on the wane, but herromance stronger than ever, not untinged perhaps with a little bitternesstowards that sex which had not afforded one man of merit enough to wooand win her. Partly out of pique with a land so barren of all that couldminister to imagination, partly in anger with her brother who had beenurging her to a match she disliked, she went abroad to travel, wanderedabout for a year or two, and at last found herself one winter at Naples. 

There was at that time, as secretary to the Greek legation, a young fellowwhom repute called the handsomest man in Europe; he was a certain SpiridionKostalergi, whose title was Prince of Delos, though whether there was sucha principality, or that he was its representative, society was not fullyagreed upon. At all events, Miss Kearney met him at a Court ball, whenhe wore his national costume, looking, it must be owned, so splendidlyhandsome that all thought of his princely rank was forgotten in presence ofa face and figure that recalled the highest triumphs of ancient art. It wasAntinous come to life in an embroidered cap and a gold-worked jacket, andit was Antinous with a voice like Mario, and who waltzed to perfection. This splendid creature, a modern Alcibiades in gifts of mind and graces, soon heard, amongst his other triumphs, how a rich and handsome Irish girlhad fallen in love with him at first sight. He had himself been struck byher good looks and her stylish air, and learning that there could be nodoubt about her fortune, he lost no time in making his advances. Beforethe end of the first week of their acquaintance he proposed. She referredhim to her brother before she could consent; and though, when Kostalergiinquired amongst her English friends, none had ever heard of a LordKilgobbin, the fact of his being Irish explained their ignorance, not tosay that Kearney's reply, being a positive refusal of consent, so fullysatisfied the Greek that it was 'a good thing, ' he pressed his suit witha most passionate ardour: threatened to kill himself if she persisted inrejecting him, and so worked upon her heart by his devotion, or on herpride by the thought of his position, that she yielded, and within threeweeks from the day they first met, she became the Princess of Delos. 

When a Greek, holding any public employ, marries money, his Government isusually prudent enough to promote him. It is a recognition of the meritthat others have discovered, and a wise administration marches with theinventions of the age it lives in. Kostalergi's chief was consequentlyrecalled, suffered to fall back upon his previous obscurity--he had been acommission-agent for a house in the Greek trade--and the Prince of Delosgazetted as Minister Plenipotentiary of Greece, with the first class ofSt. Salvador, in recognition of his services to the state; no one beingindiscreet enough to add that the aforesaid services were comprisedin marrying an Irishwoman with a dowry of--to quote the _AthenianHemera_--'three hundred and fifty thousand drachmas. '

For a while--it was a very brief while--the romantic mind of the Irish girlwas raised to a sort of transport of enjoyment. Here was everything--morethan everything--her most glowing imagination had ever conceived. Love, ambition, station all gratified, though, to be sure, she had quarrelledwith her brother, who had returned her last letters unopened. Mathew, shethought, was too good-hearted to bear a long grudge: he would see herhappiness, he would hear what a devoted and good husband her dear Spiridionhad proved himself, and he would forgive her at last. 

Though, as was well known, the Greek envoy received but a very moderatesalary from his Government, and even that not paid with a strictpunctuality, the legation was maintained with a splendour that rivalled, if it did not surpass, those of France, England, or Russia. The Prince ofDelos led the fashion in equipage, as did the Princess in toilet; theirdinners, their balls, their fêtes attracted the curiosity of even thehighest to witness them; and to such a degree of notoriety had the Greekhospitality attained, that Naples at last admitted that without the PalazzoKostalergi there would be nothing to attract strangers to the capital. 

Play, so invariably excluded from the habits of an embassy, was carried onat this legation to such an excess that the clubs were completely deserted, and all the young men of gambling tastes flocked here each night, sureto find lansquenet or faro, and for stakes which no public table couldpossibly supply. It was not alone that this life of a gambler estrangedKostalergi from his wife, but that the scandal of his infidelities hadreached her also, just at the time when some vague glimmering suspicions ofhis utter worthlessness were breaking on her mind. The birth of a littlegirl did not seem in the slightest degree to renew the ties between them;on the contrary, the embarrassment of a baby, and the cost it must entail, were the only considerations he would entertain, and it was a constantquestion of his--uttered, too, with a tone of sarcasm that cut her to theheart: 'Would not her brother--the Lord Irlandais--like to have that baby?Would she not write and ask him?' Unpleasant stories had long been rifeabout the play at the Greek legation, when a young Russian secretary, ofhigh family and influence, lost an immense sum under circumstances whichdetermined him to refuse payment. Kostalergi, who had been the chiefwinner, refused everything like inquiry or examination; in fact, he madeinvestigation impossible, for the cards, which the Russian had declared tobe marked, the Greek gathered up slowly from the table and threw into thefire, pressing his foot upon them in the flames, and then calmly returningto where the other stood, he struck him across the face with his open hand, saying, as he did it: 'Here is another debt to repudiate, and before thesame witnesses also!'

The outrage did not admit of delay. The arrangements were made in aninstant, and within half an hour--merely time enough to send for asurgeon--they met at the end of the garden of the legation. The Russianfired first, and though a consummate pistol-shot, agitation at the insultso unnerved him that he missed: his ball cut the knot of Kostalergi'scravat. The Greek took a calm and deliberate aim, and sent his bulletthrough the other's forehead. He fell without a word, stone dead. 

Though the duel had been a fair one, and the _procès-verbal_ drawn up andagreed on both sides showed that all had been done loyally, the friendsof the young Russian had influence to make the Greek Government not onlyrecall the envoy, but abolish the mission itself. 

For some years the Kostalergis lived in retirement at Palermo, not knowingnor known to any one. Their means were now so reduced that they hadbarely sufficient for daily life, and though the Greek prince--as he wascalled--constantly appeared on the public promenade well dressed, and inall the pride of his handsome figure, it was currently said that his wifewas literally dying of want. 

It was only after long and agonising suffering that she ventured to writeto her brother, and appeal to him for advice and assistance. But at lastshe did so, and a correspondence grew up which, in a measure, restored theaffection between them. When Kostalergi discovered the source from whichhis wretched wife now drew her consolation and her courage, he forbade herto write more, and himself addressed a letter to Kearney so insulting andoffensive--charging him even with causing the discord of his home, andshowing the letter to his wife before sending it--that the poor woman, longfailing in health and broken down, sank soon after, and died so destitute, that the very funeral was paid for by a subscription amongst hercountrymen. Kostalergi had left her some days before her death, carryingthe girl along with him, nor was his whereabouts learned for a considerabletime. 

When next he emerged into the world it was at Rome, where he gave lessonsin music and modern languages, in many in which he was a proficient. Hissplendid appearance, his captivating address, his thorough familiarity withthe modes of society, gave him the entrée to many houses where his talentsamply requited the hospitality he received. He possessed, amongst his othergifts, an immense amount of plausibility, and people found it, besides, very difficult to believe ill of that well-bred, somewhat retiring man, who, in circumstances of the very narrowest fortunes, not only looked anddressed like a gentleman, but actually brought up a daughter with a degreeof care and an amount of regard to her education that made him appear amodel parent. 

Nina Kostalergi was then about seventeen, though she looked at least threeyears older. She was a tall, slight, pale girl, with perfectly regularfeatures--so classic in the mould, and so devoid of any expression, thatshe recalled the face one sees on a cameo. Her hair was of wondrousbeauty--that rich gold colour which has _reflets_ through it, as the lightfalls full or faint, and of an abundance that taxed her ingenuity to dressit. They gave her the sobriquet of the Titian Girl at Rome whenever sheappeared abroad. 

In the only letter Kearney had received from his brother-in-law after hissister's death was an insolent demand for a sum of money, which he allegedthat Kearney was unjustly withholding, and which he now threatened toenforce by law. 'I am well aware, ' wrote he, 'what measure of honour orhonesty I am to expect from a man whose very name and designation are adeceit. But probably prudence will suggest how much better it would beon this occasion to simulate rectitude than risk the shame of an openexposure. '

To this gross insult Kearney never deigned any reply; and now more than twoyears passed without any tidings of his disreputable relative, when therecame one morning a letter with the Roman postmark, and addressed, '_ÀMonsieur le Vicomte de Kilgobbin, à son Château de Kilgobbin, en Irlande. _'To the honour of the officials in the Irish post-office, it was forwardedto Kilgobbin with the words, 'Try Mathew Kearney, Esq. , ' in the corner. 

A glance at the writing showed it was not in Kostalergi's hand, and, aftera moment or two of hesitation, Kearney opened it. He turned at once for thewriter's name, and read the words, 'Nina Kostalergi'--his sister's child!'Poor Matty, ' was all he could say for some minutes. He remembered theletter in which she told him of her little girl's birth, and implored hisforgiveness for herself and his love for her baby. ' I want both, my dearbrother, ' wrote she; 'for though the bonds we make for ourselves by ourpassions--' And the rest of the sentence was erased--she evidently thinkingshe had delineated all that could give a clue to a despondent reflection. 

The present letter was written in English, but in that quaint, peculiarhand Italians often write. It began by asking forgiveness for daring towrite to him, and recalling the details of the relationship between them, as though he could not have remembered it. 'I am, then, in my right, ' wroteshe, 'when I address you as my dear, dear uncle, of whom I have heard somuch, and whose name was in my prayers ere I knew why I knelt to pray. '

Then followed a piteous appeal--it was actually a cry for protection. Herfather, she said, had determined to devote her to the stage, and alreadyhad taken steps to sell her--she said she used the word advisedly--forso many years to the impresario of the 'Fenice' at Venice, her voice andmusical skill being such as to give hope of her becoming a prima donna. She had, she said, frequently sung at private parties at Rome, but onlyknew within the last few days that she had been, not a guest, but a paidperformer. Overwhelmed with the shame and indignity of this false position, she implored her mother's brother to compassionate her. 'If I could notbecome a governess, I could be your servant, dearest uncle, ' she wrote. 'Ionly ask a roof to shelter me, and a refuge. May I go to you? I would begmy way on foot if I only knew that at the last your heart and your doorwould be open to me, and as I fell at your feet, knew that I was saved. '

Until a few days ago, she said, she had by her some little trinkets hermother had left her, and on which she counted as a means of escape, but herfather had discovered them and taken them from her. 

'If you answer this--and oh! let me not doubt you will--write to me to thecare of the Signori Cayani and Battistella, bankers, Rome. Do not delay, but remember that I am friendless, and but for this chance hopeless. --Yourniece, 'NINA KOSTALERGI. '

While Kearney gave this letter to his daughter to read, he walked up anddown the room with his head bent and his hands deep in his pockets. 

'I think I know the answer you'll send to this, papa, ' said the girl, looking up at him with a glow of pride and affection in her face. 'I do notneed that you should say it. '

'It will take fifty--no, not fifty, but five-and-thirty pounds to bring herover here, and how is she to come all alone?'

Kate made no reply; she knew the danger sometimes of interrupting his ownsolution of a difficulty. 

'She's a big girl, I suppose, by this--fourteen or fifteen?'

'Over nineteen, papa. '

'So she is, I was forgetting. That scoundrel, her father, might come afterher; he'd have the right if he wished to enforce it, and what a scandalhe'd bring upon us all!'

'But would he care to do it? Is he not more likely to be glad to bedisembarrassed of her charge?'

'Not if he was going to sell her--not if he could convert her into money. '

'He has never been in England; he may not know how far the law would givehim any power over her. '

'Don't trust that, Kate; a blackguard always can find out how much is inhis favour everywhere. If he doesn't know it now, he'd know it the dayafter he landed. ' He paused an instant, and then said: 'There will be thedevil to pay with old Peter Gill, for he'll want all the cash I can scrapetogether for Loughrea fair. He counts on having eighty sheep down there atthe long crofts, and a cow or two besides. That's money's worth, girl!'

Another silence followed, after which he said, 'And I think worse of theGreek scoundrel than all the cost. '

'Somehow, I have no fear that he'll come here?'

'You'll have to talk over Peter, Kitty'--he always said Kitty when he meantto coax her. 'He'll mind you, and at all events, you don't care about hisgrumbling. Tell him it's a sudden call on me for railroad shares, or'--andhere he winked knowingly--'say, it's going to Rome the money is, and forthe Pope!'

'That's an excellent thought, papa, ' said she, laughing; 'I'll certainlytell him the money is going to Rome, and you'll write soon--you see withwhat anxiety she expects your answer. '

'I'll write to-night when the house is quiet, and there's no racketnor disturbance about me. ' Now though Kearney said this with a perfectconviction of its truth and reasonableness, it would have been verydifficult for any one to say in what that racket he spoke of consisted, orwherein the quietude of even midnight was greater than that which prevailedthere at noonday. Never, perhaps, were lives more completely still ormonotonous than theirs. People who derive no interests from the outerworld, who know nothing of what goes on in life, gradually subside into acondition in which reflection takes the place of conversation, and lose allzest and all necessity for that small talk which serves, like the changesof a game, to while away time, and by the aid of which, if we do no more, we often delude the cares and worries of existence. 

A kind good-morning when they met, and a few words during the day--somemention of this or that event of the farm or the labourers, and rare enoughtoo--some little incident that happened amongst the tenants, made all thematerials of their intercourse, and filled up lives which either would veryfreely have owned were far from unhappy. 

Dick, indeed, when he came home and was weather-bound for a day, did lamenthis sad destiny, and mutter half-intelligible nonsense of what he wouldnot rather do than descend to such a melancholy existence; but in allhis complainings he never made Kate discontented with her lot, or desireanything beyond it. 

'It's all very well, ' he would say, 'till you know something better. '

'But I want no better. '

'Do you mean you'd like to go through life in this fashion?'

'I can't pretend to say what I may feel as I grow older; but if I could besure to be as I am now, I could ask nothing better. '

'I must say, it's a very inglorious life?' said he, with a sneer. 

'So it is, but how many, may I ask, are there who lead glorious lives? Isthere any glory in dining out, in dancing, visiting, and picnicking? Whereis the great glory of the billiard-table, or the croquet-lawn? No, no, mydear Dick, the only glory that falls to the share of such humble folks aswe are, is to have something to do, and to do it. '

Such were the sort of passages which would now and then occur between them, little contests, be it said, in which she usually came off the conqueror. 

If she were to have a wish gratified, it would have been a few morebooks--something besides those odd volumes of Scott's novels, _Zeluco_ byDoctor Moore, and _Florence McCarthy_, which comprised her whole library, and which she read over and over unceasingly. She was now in her usualplace--a deep window-seat--intently occupied with Amy Robsart's sorrows, when her father came to read what he had written in answer to Nina. If itwas very brief it was very affectionate. It told her in a few words thatshe had no need to recall the ties of their relationship; that his heartnever ceased to remind him of them; that his home was a very dull one, butthat her cousin Kate would try and make it a happy one to her; entreatedher to confer with the banker, to whom he remitted forty pounds, in whatway she could make the journey, since he was too broken in health himselfto go and fetch her. 'It is a bold step I am counselling you to take. It isno light thing to quit a father's home, and I have my misgivings how far Iam a wise adviser in recommending it. There is, however, a present peril, and I must try, if I can, to save you from it. Perhaps, in my old-worldnotions, I attach to the thought of the stage ideas that you wouldonly smile at; but none of our race, so far as I know, fell to thatcondition--nor must you while I have a roof to shelter you. If you wouldwrite and say about what time I might expect you, I will try to meet youon your landing in England at Dover. Kate sends you her warmest love, andlongs to see you. '

This was the whole of it. But a brief line to the bankers said that anyexpense they judged needful to her safe convoy across Europe would begratefully repaid by him. 

'Is it all right, dear? Have I forgotten anything?' asked he, as Kate readit over. 

'It's everything, papa--everything. And I _do_ long to see her. '

'I hope she's like Matty--if she's only like her poor mother, it will makemy heart young again to look at her. '

CHAPTER III

THE CHUMS

In that old square of Trinity College, Dublin, one side of which frontsthe Park, and in chambers on the ground-floor, an oak door bore thenames of 'Kearney and Atlee. ' Kearney was the son of Lord Kilgobbin;Atlee, his chum, the son of a Presbyterian minister in the north ofIreland, had been four years in the university, but was still in hisfreshman period, not from any deficiency of scholarlike ability to pushon, but that, as the poet of the _Seasons_ lay in bed, because he 'hadno motive for rising, ' Joe Atlee felt that there need be no urgencyabout taking a degree which, when he had got, he should be sorelypuzzled to know what to do with. He was a clever, ready-witted, butcapricious fellow, fond of pleasure, and self-indulgent to a degree thatill suited his very smallest of fortunes, for his father was a poor man, with a large family, and had already embarrassed himself heavily by thecost of sending his eldest son to the university. Joe's changes ofpurpose--for he had in succession abandoned law for medicine, medicinefor theology, and theology for civil engineering, and, finally, gavethem all up--had so outraged his father that he declared he would notcontinue any allowance to him beyond the present year; to which Joereplied by the same post, sending back the twenty pounds inclosed him, and saying: 'The only amendment I would make to your motion is--as tothe date--let it begin from to-day. I suppose I shall have to swimwithout corks some time. I may as well try now as later on. '

[Illustration: 'What lark have you been on, Master Joe?']

The first experience of his 'swimming without corks' was to lie in bed twodays and smoke; the next was to rise at daybreak and set out on a longwalk into the country, from which he returned late at night, wearied andexhausted, having eaten but once during the day. 

Kearney, dressed for an evening party, resplendent with jewellery, essencedand curled, was about to issue forth when Atlee, dusty and wayworn, enteredand threw himself into a chair. 

'What lark have you been on, Master Joe?' he said. 'I have not seen you forthree days, if not four!'

'No; I've begun to train, ' said he gravely. 'I want to see how long afellow could hold on to life on three pipes of Cavendish per diem. I takeit that the absorbents won't be more cruel than a man's creditors, and willnot issue a distraint where there are no assets, so that probably by thetime I shall have brought myself down to, let us say, seven stone weight, Ishall have reached the goal. '

This speech he delivered slowly and calmly, as though enunciating a verygrave proposition. 

'What new nonsense is this? Don't you think health worth something?'

'Next to life, unquestionably; but one condition of health is to be alive, and I don't see how to manage that. Look here, Dick, I have just had aquarrel with my father; he is an excellent man and an impressive preacher, but he fails in the imaginative qualities. Nature has been a niggard to himin inventiveness. He is the minister of a little parish called Aghadoe, inthe North, where they give him two hundred and ten pounds per annum. Thereare eight in family, and he actually does not see his way to allow me onehundred and fifty out of it. That's the way they neglect arithmetic in ourmodern schools!'

'Has he reduced your allowance?'

'He has done more, he has extinguished it. '

'Have you provoked him to this?'

'I have provoked him to it. '

'But is it not possible to accommodate matters? It should not be verydifficult, surely, to show him that once you are launched in life--'

'And when will that be, Dick?' broke in the other. 'I have been on thestocks these four years, and that launching process you talk of looks justas remote as ever. No, no; let us be fair; he has all the right on hisside, all the wrong is on mine. Indeed, so far as conscience goes, I havealways felt it so, but one's conscience, like one's boots, gets so pliantfrom wear, that it ceases to give pain. Still, on my honour, I neverhip-hurraed to a toast that I did not feel: there goes broken boots to oneof the boys, or, worse again, the cost of a cotton dress for one of thesisters. Whenever I took a sherry-cobbler I thought of suicide after it. Self-indulgence and self-reproach got linked in my nature so inseparably, it was hopeless to summon one without the other, till at last I grew tobelieve it was very heroic in me to deny myself nothing, seeing how sorry Ishould be for it afterwards. But come, old fellow, don't lose your evening;we'll have time enough to talk over these things--where are you going?'

'To the Clancys'. '

'To be sure; what a fellow I am to forget it was Letty's birthday, and Iwas to have brought her a bouquet! Dick, be a good fellow and tell hersome lie or other--that I was sick in bed, or away to see an aunt or agrandmother, and that I had a splendid bouquet for her, but wouldn't letit reach her through other hands than my own, but to-morrow--to-morrow sheshall have it. '

'You know well enough you don't mean anything of the sort. '

'On my honour, I'll keep my promise. I've an old silver watch yonder--Ithink it knows the way to the pawn-office by itself. There, now be off, forif I begin to think of all the fun you're going to, I shall just dress andjoin you. '

'No, I'd not do that, ' said Dick gravely, 'nor shall I stay long myself. Don't go to bed, Joe, till I come back. Good-bye. '

'Say all good and sweet things to Letty for me. Tell her--' Kearney did notwait for his message, but hurried down the steps and drove off. 

Joe sat down at the fire, filled his pipe, looked steadily at it, and thenlaid it on the mantel-piece. 'No, no, Master Joe. You must be thrifty now. You have smoked twice since--I can afford to say--since dinner-time, foryou haven't dined. It is strange, now that the sense of hunger has passedoff, what a sense of excitement I feel. Two hours back I could have been acannibal. I believe I could have eaten the vice-provost--though I shouldhave liked him strongly devilled--and now I feel stimulated. Hence it is, perhaps, that so little wine is enough to affect the heads of starvingpeople--almost maddening them. Perhaps Dick suspected something of this, for he did not care that I should go along with him. Who knows but he mayhave thought the sight of a supper might have overcome me. If he knew butall. I'm much more disposed to make love to Letty Clancy than to go in forgalantine and champagne. By the way, I wonder if the physiologists areaware of that? It is, perhaps, what constitutes the ethereal condition oflove. I'll write an essay on that, or, better still, I'll write a review ofan imaginary French essay. Frenchmen are permitted to say so much more thanwe are, and I'll be rebukeful on the score of his excesses. The bitter wayin which a Frenchman always visits his various incapacities--whether it beto know something, or to do something, or to be something--on the specieshe belongs to; the way in which he suggests that, had he been consulted onthe matter, humanity had been a much more perfect organisation, and ableto sustain a great deal more of wickedness without disturbance, is greatfun. I'll certainly invent a Frenchman, and make him an author, and thendemolish him. What if I make him die of hunger, having tasted nothing foreight days but the proof-sheets of his great work--the work I am thenreviewing? For four days--but stay--if I starve him to death, I cannot tearhis work to pieces. No; he shall be alive, living in splendour and honour, a frequenter of the Tuileries, a favoured guest at Compiègne. '

Without perceiving it, he had now taken his pipe, lighted it, and wassmoking away. 'By the way, how those same Imperialists have played thegame!--the two or three middle-aged men that Kinglake says, "put theirheads together to plan for a livelihood. " I wish they had taken me into thepartnership. It's the sort of thing I'd have liked well; ay, and I couldhave done it, too! I wonder, ' said he aloud--'I wonder if I were an emperorshould I marry Letty Clancy? I suspect not. Letty would have been flippantas an empress, and her cousins would have made atrocious princes of theimperial family, though, for the matter of that--Hullo! Here have I beensmoking without knowing it! Can any one tell us whether the sins we doinadvertently count as sins, or do we square them off by our inadvertentgood actions? I trust I shall not be called on to catalogue mine. There, my courage is out!' As he said this he emptied the ashes of his pipe, andgazed sorrowfully at the empty bowl. 

'Now, if I were the son of some good house, with a high-sounding name, andwell-to-do relations, I'd soon bring them to terms if they dared to cast meoff. I'd turn milk or muffin man, and serve the street they lived in. I'dsweep the crossing in front of their windows, or I'd commit a small theft, and call on my high connections for a character--but being who and what Iam, I might do any or all o these, and shock nobody. 

'Next to take stock of my effects. Let me see what my assets will bringwhen reduced to cash, for this time it shall be a sale. ' And he turned to atable where paper and pens were lying, and proceeded to write. 'Personal, sworn under, let us say, ten thousand pounds. Literature first. To diversworn copies of _Virgil_, _Tacitus_, _Juvenal_, and _Ovid_, Cæsar's_Commentaries_, and _Catullus_; to ditto ditto of _Homer_, _Lucian_, _Aristophanes_, _Balzac_, _Anacreon_, Bacon's _Essays_, and Moore's_Melodies_; to Dwight's _Theology_--uncut copy, Heine's _Poems_--very muchthumbed, _Saint Simon_--very ragged, two volumes of _Les Causes Célèbres_, Tone's _Memoirs_, and Beranger's _Songs_; to Cuvier's _ComparativeAnatomy_, Shroeder on _Shakespeare_, Newman's _Apology_, Archbold's_Criminal Law_ and _Songs of the Nation_; to Colenso, East's _Cases forthe Crown_, Carte's _Ormonde_, and _Pickwick_. But why go on? Let us callit the small but well-selected library of a distressed gentleman, whosecultivated mind is reflected in the marginal notes with which these volumesabound. Will any gentleman say, "£10 for the lot"? Why the very criticismsare worth--I mean to a man of literary tastes--five times the amount. Nooffer at £10? Who is it that says "five"? I trust my ears have deceived me. You repeat the insulting proposal? Well, sir, on your own head be it! Mr. Atlee's library--or the Atlee collection is better--was yesterday disposedof to a well-known collector of rare books, and, if we are rightlyinformed, for a mere fraction of its value. Never mind, sir, I bear you noill-will! I was irritable, and to show you my honest animus in the matter, I beg to present you in addition with this, a handsomely-bound and giltcopy of a sermon by the Reverend Isaac Atlee, on the opening of the newmeeting-house in Coleraine--a discourse that cost my father some sleeplessnights, though I have heard the effect on the congregation was dissimilar. 

'The pictures are few. Cardinal Cullen, I believe, is Kearney's; at allevents, he is the worse for being made a target for pistol firing, and thearchiepiscopal nose has been sorely damaged. Two views of Killarney inthe weather of the period--that means July, and raining in torrents--andconsequently the scene, for aught discoverable, might be the Gaboon. Portrait of Joe Atlee, _ætatis_ four years, with a villainous squint, andsomething that looks like a plug in the left jaw. A Skye terrier, painted, it is supposed, by himself; not to recite unframed prints of variouscelebrities of the ballet, in accustomed attitudes, with the Reverend PaulBloxham blessing some children--though from the gesture and the expressionof the juveniles it might seem cuffing them--on the inauguration of theSunday school at Kilmurry Macmacmahon. 

'Lot three, interesting to anatomical lecturers and others, especiallythose engaged in palæontology. The articulated skeleton of an Irish giant, representing a man who must have stood in his no-stockings eight feet fourinches. This, I may add, will be warranted as authentic, in so far that Imade him myself out of at least eighteen or twenty big specimens, with afew slight "divergencies" I may call them, such as putting in eight moredorsal vertebrae than the regulation, and that the right femur is twoinches longer than the left. The inferior maxillary, too, was stolen from a"Pithacus Satyrus" in the Cork Museum by an old friend, since transportedfor Fenianism. These blemishes apart, he is an admirable giant, and fullyas ornamental and useful as the species generally. 

'As to my wardrobe, it is less costly than curious; an alpaca paletot of aneutral tint, which I have much affected of late, having indisposed me toother wear. For dinner and evening duty I usually wear Kearney's, thoughtoo tight across the chest, and short in the sleeves. These, with a silverwatch which no pawnbroker--and I have tried eight--will ever advancemore on than seven-and-six. I once got the figure up to nine shillingsby supplementing an umbrella, which was Dick's, and which still remains, "unclaimed and unredeemed. "

'Two o'clock, by all that is supperless! evidently Kearney is enjoyinghimself. Ah, youth, youth! I wish I could remember some of the spitefulthings that are said of you--not but on the whole, I take it, you have theright end of the stick. Is it possible there is nothing to eat in thisinhospitable mansion?' He arose and opened a sort of cupboard in the wall, scrutinising it closely with the candle. '"Give me but the superfluities oflife, " says Gavarni, "and I'll not trouble you for its necessaries. " Whatwould he say, however, to a fellow famishing with hunger in presence ofnothing but pickled mushrooms and Worcester sauce! Oh, here is a crust!"Bread is the staff of life. " On my oath, I believe so; for this eatsdevilish like a walking-stick. 

'Hullo! back already?' cried he, as Kearney flung wide the door andentered. 'I suppose you hurried away back to join me at supper. '

'Thanks; but I have supped already, and at a more tempting banquet thanthis I see before you. '

'Was it pleasant? was it jolly? Were the girls looking lovely? Was thechampagne-cup well iced? Was everybody charming? Tell me all about it. Letme have second-hand pleasure, since I can't afford the new article. '

'It was pretty much like every other small ball here, where the garrisonget all the prettiest girls for partners, and take the mammas down tosupper after. '

'Cunning dogs, who secure flirtation above stairs and food below! And whatis stirring in the world? What are the gaieties in prospect? Are any of myold flames about to get married?'

'I didn't know you had any. '

'Have I not! I believe half the parish of St. Peter's might proceed againstme for breach of promise; and if the law allowed me as many wives asBrigham Young, I'd be still disappointing a large and interesting sectionof society in the suburbs. '

'They have made a seizure on the office of the _Pike_, carried off thepress and the whole issue, and are in eager pursuit after Madden, theeditor. '

'What for? What is it all about?'

'A new ballad he has published; but which, for the matter of that, theywere singing at every corner as I came along. '

'Was it good? Did you buy a copy?'

'Buy a copy? I should think not. '

'Couldn't your patriotism stand the test of a penny?'

'It might if I wanted the production, which I certainly did not; besides, there is a run upon this, and they were selling it at sixpence. '

'Hurrah! There's hope for Ireland after all! Shall I sing it for you, oldfellow? Not that you deserve it. English corruption has damped the littleIrish ardour that old rebellion once kindled in your heart; and if youcould get rid of your brogue, you're ready to be loyal. You shall hear it, however, all the same. ' And taking up a very damaged-looking guitar, hestruck a few bold chords, and began:--

 'Is there anything more we can fight or can hate for? The "drop" and the famine have made our ranks thin. In the name of endurance, then, what do we wait for? Will nobody give us the word to begin?

 'Some brothers have left us in sadness and sorrow, In despair of the cause they had sworn to win; They owned they were sick of that cry of "to-morrow"; Not a man would believe that we meant to begin. 

 'We've been ready for months--is there one can deny it? Is there any one here thinks rebellion a sin? We counted the cost--and we did not decry it, And we asked for no more than the word to begin?

 'At Vinegar Hill, when our fathers were fighters, With numbers against them, they cared not a pin; They needed no orders from newspaper writers, To tell them the day it was time to begin. 

 'To sit here in sadness and silence to bear it, Is harder to face than the battle's loud din; 'Tis the shame that will kill me--I vow it, I swear it? Now or never's the time, if we mean to begin. '

There was a wild rapture in the way he struck the last chords, that, if itdid not evince ecstasy, seemed to counterfeit enthusiasm. 

'Very poor doggerel, with all your bravura, ' said Kearney sneeringly. 

'What would you have? I only got three-and-six for it. '

'You! Is that thing yours?'

'Yes, sir; that thing is mine. And the Castle people think somewhat moregravely about it than you do. '

'At which you are pleased, doubtless?'

'Not pleased, but proud, Master Dick, let me tell you. It's a verystimulating reflection to the man who dines on an onion, that he can spoilthe digestion of another fellow who has been eating turtle. '

'But you may have to go to prison for this. '

'Not if you don't peach on me, for you are the only one who knows theauthorship. You see, Dick, these things are done cautiously. They aredropped into a letter-box with an initial letter, and a clerk hands thepayment to some of those itinerant hags that sing the melody, and whocan be trusted with the secret as implicitly as the briber at a boroughelection. '

'I wish you had a better livelihood, Joe. '

'So do I, or that my present one paid better. The fact is, Dick, patriotismnever was worth much as a career till one got to the top of the profession. But if you mean to sleep at all, old fellow, "it's time to begin, "' and hechanted out the last words in a clear and ringing tone, as he banged thedoor behind him. 

CHAPTER IV

AT 'TRINITY'

It was while the two young men were seated at breakfast that the postarrived, bringing a number of country newspapers, for which, in one shapeor other, Joe Atlee wrote something. Indeed, he was an 'own correspondent, 'dating from London, or Paris, or occasionally from Rome, with an easyfreshness and a local colour that vouched for authenticity. These journalswere of a very political tint, from emerald green to the deepest orange;and, indeed, between two of them--the _Tipperary Pike_ and the _BoyneWater_, hailing from Carrickfergus--there was a controversy of suchviolence and intemperance of language, that it was a curiosity to see thetwo papers on the same table: the fact being capable of explanation, thatthey were both written by Joe Atlee--a secret, however, that he had notconfided even to his friend Kearney. 

'Will that fellow that signs himself Terry O'Toole in the _Pike_ standthis?' cried Kearney, reading aloud from the _Boyne Water_:--

'"We know the man who corresponds with you under the signature of TerryO'Toole, and it is but one of the aliases under which he has lived sincehe came out of the Richmond Bridewell, filcher, forger, and false witness. There is yet one thing he has never tried, which is to behave with a littlecourage. If he should, however, be able to persuade himself, by the aidof his accustomed stimulants, to accept the responsibility of what he haswritten, we bind ourselves to pay his expenses to any part of France orBelgium, where he will meet us, and we shall also bind ourselves to givehim what his life little entitles him to, a Christian burial afterwards. 

'"No SURRENDER. "'

'I am just reading the answer, ' said Joe. 'It is very brief: here it is:--

"'If 'No Surrender'--who has been a newsvender in your establishment sinceyou yourself rose from that employ to the editor's chair--will call at thisoffice any morning after distributing his eight copies of your daily issue, we promise to give him such a kicking as he has never experienced duringhis literary career. TERRY O'TOOLE. '"

'And these are the amenities of journalism, ' cried Kearney. 

'For the matter of that, you might exclaim at the quack doctor of a fair, and ask, Is this the dignity of medicine?' said Joe. 'There's a head and atail to every walk in life: even the law has a Chief-Justice at one end anda Jack Ketch at the other. '

'Well, I sincerely wish that those blackguards would first kick and thenshoot each other. '

'They'll do nothing of the kind! It's just as likely that they wrote thewhole correspondence at the same table and with the same jug of punchbetween them. '

'If so, I don't envy you your career or your comrades. '

'It's a lottery with big prizes in the wheel all the same! I could tell youthe names of great swells, Master Dick, who have made very proud places forthemselves in England by what you call "journalism. " In France it is theone road to eminence. Cannot you imagine, besides, what capital fun it isto be able to talk to scores of people you were never introduced to? totell them an infinity of things on public matters, or now and then aboutthemselves; and in so many moods as you have tempers, to warn them, scold, compassionate, correct, console, or abuse them? to tell them not to beover-confident or bumptious, or purse-proud--'

'And who are _you_, may I ask, who presume to do all this?'

'That's as it may be. We are occasionally Guizot, Thiers, Prévot Paradol, Lytton, Disraeli, or Joe Atlee. '

'Modest, at all events. '

'And why not say what I feel--not what I have done, but what is in me todo? Can't you understand this: it would never occur to me that I couldvault over a five-bar gate if I had been born a cripple? but the consciouspossession of a little pliant muscularity might well tempt me to try it. '

'And get a cropper for your pains. '

'Be it so. Better the cropper than pass one's life looking over the toprail and envying the fellow that had cleared it; but what's this? here's aletter here: it got in amongst the newspapers. I say, Dick, do you standthis sort of thing?' said he, as he read the address. 

'Stand what sort of thing?' asked the other, half angrily. 

'Why, to be addressed in this fashion? The Honourable Richard Kearney, Trinity College, Dublin. '

'It is from my sister, ' said Kearney, as he took the letter impatientlyfrom his hand; 'and I can only tell you, if she had addressed me otherwise, I'd not have opened her letter. '

'But come now, old fellow, don't lose temper about it. You have a right tothis designation, or you have not--'

'I'll spare all your eloquence by simply saying, that I do not look onyou as a Committee of Privilege, and I'm not going to plead before you. Besides, ' added he, 'it's only a few minutes ago you asked me to credit youfor something you have not shown yourself to be, but that you intended andfelt that the world should see you were, one of these days. '

'So, then, you really mean to bring your claim before the Lords?'

Kearney, if he heard, did not heed this question, but went on to read hisletter. 'Here's a surprise!' cried he. 'I was telling you, the other day, about a certain cousin of mine we were expecting from Italy. '

'The daughter of that swindler, the mock prince?'

'The man's character I'll not stand up for, but his rank and title arealike indisputable, ' said Kearney haughtily. 

'With all my heart. We have soared into a high atmosphere all this day, andI hope my respiration will get used to it in time. Read away!'

It was not till after a considerable interval that Kearney had recoveredcomposure enough to read, and when he did so it was with a brow furrowedwith irritation:--

'KILGOBBIN. 

'My dear Dick, --We had just sat down to tea last night, and papa wasfidgeting about the length of time his letter to Italy had remainedunacknowledged, when a sharp ring at the house-door startled us. We hadbeen hearing a good deal of searches for arms lately in the neighbourhood, and we looked very blankly at each other for a moment. We neither of ussaid so, but I feel sure our thoughts were on the same track, and that webelieved Captain Rock, or the head-centre, or whatever be his latest title, had honoured us with a call. Old Mathew seemed of the same mind too, forhe appeared at the door with that venerable blunderbuss we have so oftenplayed with, and which, if it had any evil thoughts in its head, I musthave been tried for a murder years ago, for I know it was loaded since Iwas a child, but that the lock has for the same space of time not beenon speaking terms with the barrel. While, then, thus confirmed in oursuspicions of mischief by Mat's warlike aspect, we both rose from thetable, the door opened, and a young girl rushed in, and fell--actuallythrew herself into papa's arms. It was Nina herself, who had come all theway from Rome alone, that is, without any one she knew, and made her way tous here, without any other guidance than her own good wits. 

'I cannot tell you how delighted we are with her. She is the loveliestgirl I ever saw, so gentle, so nicely mannered, so soft-voiced, and sowinning--I feel myself like a peasant beside her. The least thing shesays--her laugh, her slightest gesture, the way she moves about the room, with a sort of swinging grace, which I thought affected at first, but now Isee is quite natural--is only another of her many fascinations. 

'I fancied for a while that her features were almost too beautifullyregular for expression, and that even when she smiled and showed her lovelyteeth, her eyes got no increase of brightness; but, as I talked more withher, and learned to know her better, I saw that those eyes have meanings ofsoftness and depths in them of wonderful power, and, stranger than all, anarchness that shows she has plenty of humour. 

'Her English is charming, but slightly foreign; and when she is at a lossfor a word, there is just that much of difficulty in finding it which givesa heightened expression to her beautifully calm face, and makes it lovely. You may see how she has fascinated me, for I could go on raving about herfor hours. 

'She is very anxious to see you, and asks me over and over again, Shall youlike her? I was almost candid enough to say "too well. " I mean that youcould not help falling in love with her, my dear Dick, and she is so muchabove us in style, in habit, and doubtless in ambition, that such wouldbe only madness. When she saw your photo she smiled, and said, "Is he notsuperb?--I mean proud?" I owned you were, and then she added, "I hope hewill like me. " I am not perhaps discreet if I tell you she does not likethe portrait of your chum, Atlee. She says "he is very good-looking, veryclever, very witty, but isn't he false?" and this she says over and overagain. I told her I believed not; that I had never seen him myself, butthat I knew that you liked him greatly, and felt to him as a brother. Sheonly shook her head, and said, "_Badate bene a quel che dico_. I mean, "said she, "_I'm right, _ but he's very nice for all that!" If I tell youthis, Dick, it is just because I cannot get it out of my head, and I willkeep saying over and over to myself--"If Joe Atlee be what she suspects, why does she call him very nice for all that?" I said you intended to askhim down here next vacation, and she gave the drollest little laugh inthe world--and does she not look lovely when she shows those small pearlyteeth? Heaven help you, poor Dick, when you see her! but, if I were you, I should leave Master Joe behind me, for she smiles as she looks at hislikeness in a way that would certainly make me jealous, if I were onlyJoe's friend, and not himself. 

'We sat up in Nina's room till nigh morning, and to-day I have scarcelyseen her, for she wants to be let sleep, after that long and tiresomejourney, and I take the opportunity to write you this very ramblingepistle; for you may feel sure I shall be less of a correspondent now thanwhen I was without companionship, and I counsel you to be very grateful ifyou hear from me soon again. 

'Papa wants to take Duggan's farm from him, and Lanty Moore's meadows, and throw them into the lawn; but I hope he won't persist in the plan;not alone because it is a mere extravagance, but that the county is veryunsettled just now about land-tenure, and the people are hoping allsorts of things from Parliament, and any interference with them atthis time would be ill taken. Father Cody was here yesterday, and toldme confidentially to prevent papa--not so easy a thing as he thinks, particularly if he should come to suspect that any intimidation wasintended--and Miss O'Shea unfortunately said something the other day thatpapa cannot get out of his head, and keeps on repeating. "So, then, it'sour turn now, " the fellows say; "the landlords have had five hundred yearsof it; it's time we should come in. " And this he says over and over with alittle laugh, and I wish to my heart Miss Betty had kept it to herself. Bythe way, her nephew is to come on leave, and pass two months with her; andshe says she hopes you will be here at the same time, to keep him company;but I have a notion that another playfellow may prove a dangerous rival tothe Hungarian hussar; perhaps, however, you would hand over Joe Atlee tohim. 

'Be sure you bring us some new books, and some music, when you come, orsend them, if you don't come soon. I am terrified lest Nina should thinkthe place dreary, and I don't know how she is to live here if she does nottake to the vulgar drudgeries that fill my own life. When she abruptlyasked me, "What do you do here?" I was sorely puzzled to know what toanswer, and then she added quickly: "For my own part, it's no great matter, for I can always dream. I'm a great dreamer!" Is it not lucky for her, Dick? She'll have ample time for it here. 

'I suppose I never wrote so long a letter as this in my life; indeed Inever had a subject that had such a fascination for myself. Do you know, Dick, that though I promised to let her sleep on till nigh dinner-time, Ifind myself every now and then creeping up gently to her door, and onlybethink me of my pledge when my hand is on the lock; and sometimes I evendoubt if she is here at all, and I am half crazy at fearing it may be all adream. 

'One word for yourself, and I have done. Why have you not told us of theexamination? It was to have been on the 10th, and we are now at the 18th. Have you got--whatever it was? the prize, or the medal, or--the reward, inshort, we were so anxiously hoping for? It would be such cheery tidingsfor poor papa, who is very low and depressed of late, and I see him alwaysreading with such attention any notice of the college he can find in thenewspaper. My dear, dear brother, how you would work hard if you only knewwhat a prize success in life might give you. Little as I have seen of her, I could guess that she will never bestow a thought on an undistinguishedman. Come down for one day, and tell me if ever, in all your ambition, youhad such a goal before you as this?

'The hoggets I sent in to Tullamore fair were not sold; but I believe MissBetty's steward will take them; and, if so, I will send you ten pounds nextweek. I never knew the market so dull, and the English dealers now are onlyeager about horses, and I'm sure I couldn't part with any if I had them. With all my love, I am your ever affectionate sister, 'KATE KEARNEY. '

'I have just stepped into Nina's room and stolen the photo I send you. Isuppose the dress must have been for some fancy ball; but she is a hundredmillion times more beautiful. I don't know if I shall have the courage toconfess my theft to her. '

'Is that your sister, Dick?' said Joe Atlee, as young Kearney withdrew thecarte from the letter, and placed it face downwards on the breakfast-table. 

'No, ' replied he bluntly, and continued to read on; while the other, in thespirit of that freedom that prevailed between them, stretched out his handand took up the portrait. 

'Who is this?' cried he, after some seconds. 'She's an actress. That'ssomething like what the girl wears in _Don Cæsar de Bazan_. To be sure, sheis Maritana. She's stunningly beautiful. Do you mean to tell me, Dick, thatthere's a girl like that on your provincial boards?'

'I never said so, any more than I gave you leave to examine the contents ofmy letters, ' said the other haughtily. 

'Egad, I'd have smashed the seal any day to have caught a glimpse of sucha face as that. I'll wager her eyes are blue grey. Will you have a bet onit?'

'When you have done with your raptures, I'll thank you to hand the likenessto me. '

'But who is she? what is she? where is she? Is she the Greek?'

'When a fellow can help himself so coolly to his information as you do, Iscarcely think he deserves much aid from others; but, I may tell you, sheis not Maritana, nor a provincial actress, nor any actress at all, but ayoung lady of good blood and birth, and my own first cousin. '

'On my oath, it's the best thing I ever knew of you. '

Kearney laughed out at this moment at something in the letter, and did nothear the other's remark. 

'It seems, Master Joe, that the young lady did not reciprocate therapturous delight you feel, at sight of _your_ picture. My sistersays--I'll read you her very words--"she does not like the portrait of yourfriend Atlee; he may be clever and amusing, she says, but he is undeniablyfalse. " Mind that--undeniably false. '

'That's all the fault of the artist. The stupid dog would place me in sostrong a light that I kept blinking. '

'No, no. She reads you like a book, ' said the other. 

'I wish to Heaven she would, if she would hold me like one. '

'And the nice way she qualifies your cleverness, by calling you amusing. '

'She could certainly spare that reproach to her cousin Dick, ' said he, laughing; 'but no more of this sparring. When do you mean to take me downto the country with you? The term will be up on Tuesday. '

'That will demand a little consideration now. In the fall of the year, perhaps. When the sun is less powerful the light will be more favourable toyour features. '

'My poor Dick, I cram you with good advice every day; but one counsel Inever cease repeating, "Never try to be witty. " A dull fellow only cuts hisfinger with a joke; he never catches it by the handle. Hand me over thatletter of your sister's; I like the way she writes. All that about the pigsand the poultry is as good as the _Farmer's Chronicle_. '

The other made no other reply than by coolly folding up the letter andplacing it in his pocket; and then, after a pause, he said--

'I shall tell Miss Kearney the favourable impression her epistolary powershave produced on my very clever and accomplished chum, Mr. Atlee. '

'Do so; and say, if she'd take me for a correspondent instead of you, she'dbe "exchanging with a difference. " On my oath, ' said he seriously, 'Ibelieve a most finished education might be effected in letter-writing. I'dengage to take a clever girl through a whole course of Latin and Greek, and a fair share of mathematics and logic, in a series of letters, and herreplies would be the fairest test of her acquirement. '

'Shall I propose this to my sister?'

'Do so, or to your cousin. I suspect Maritana would be an apter pupil. '

'The bell has stopped. We shall be late in the hall, ' said Kearney, throwing on his gown hurriedly and hastening away; while Atlee, taking someproof-sheets from the chimney-piece, proceeded to correct them, a slightflicker of a smile still lingering over his dark but handsome face. 

Though such little jarring passages as those we have recorded were nothinguncommon between these two young men, they were very good friends on thewhole, the very dissimilarity that provoked their squabbles saving themfrom any more serious rivalry. In reality, no two people could be lessalike: Kearney being a slow, plodding, self-satisfied, dull man, ofvery ordinary faculties; while the other was an indolent, discursive, sharp-witted fellow, mastering whatever he addressed himself to with ease, but so enamoured of novelty that he rarely went beyond a smattering ofanything. He carried away college honours apparently at will, and might, many thought, have won a fellowship with little effort; but his passionwas for change. Whatever bore upon the rogueries of letters, the frauds ofliterature, had an irresistible charm for him; and he once declared that hewould almost rather have been Ireland than Shakespeare; and then it was hisdelight to write Greek versions of a poem that might attach the mark ofplagiarism to Tennyson, or show, by a Scandinavian lyric, how the laureatehad been poaching from the Northmen. Now it was a mock pastoral in mostecclesiastical Latin that set the whole Church in arms; now a mock despatchof Baron Beust that actually deceived the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ andcaused quite a panic at the Tuileries. He had established such relationswith foreign journals that he could at any moment command insertion fora paper, now in the _Mémorial Diplomatique_, now in the _Golos_ of St. Petersburg, or the _Allgemeine Zeitung_; while the comment, written alsoby himself, would appear in the _Kreuz Zeitung_ or the _Times_; and themystification became such that the shrewdest and keenest heads wereconstantly misled, to which side to incline in a controversy where all thewires were pulled by one hand. Many a discussion on the authenticity of adocument, or the veracity of a conversation, would take place between thetwo young men; Kearney not having the vaguest suspicion that the author ofthe point in debate was then sitting opposite to him, sometimes seeming toshare the very doubts and difficulties that were then puzzling himself. 

While Atlee knew Kearney in every fold and fibre of his nature, Kearney hadnot the very vaguest conception of him with whom he sat every day at meals, and communed through almost every hour of his life. He treated Joe, indeed, with a sort of proud protection, thinking him a sharp, clever, idle fellow, who would never come to anything higher than a bookseller's hack or an'occasional correspondent. ' He liked his ready speech, and his fun, but hewould not consent to see in either evidences of anything beyond the amusingqualities of a very light intelligence. On the whole, he looked down uponhim, as very properly the slow and ponderous people in life do look downupon their more volatile brethren, and vote them triflers. Long may it beso! There would be more sunstrokes in the world, if it were not that theshadows of dull men made such nice cool places for the others to walk in!

CHAPTER V

HOME LIFE AT THE CASTLE

The life of that quaint old country-house was something very strange andodd to Nina Kostalergi. It was not merely its quiet monotony, its unbrokensameness of topics as of events, and its small economies, always appearingon the surface; but that a young girl like Kate, full of life and spirits, gay, handsome, and high-hearted--that she should go her mill-round of thesetiresome daily cares, listening to the same complaints, remedying the sameevils, meeting the same difficulties, and yet never seem to resent anexistence so ignoble and unworthy! This was, indeed, scarcely credible. 

As for Nina herself--like one saved from shipwreck--her first sense ofsecurity was full of gratitude. It was only as this wore off that she beganto see the desolation of the rock on which she had clambered. Not thather former life had been rose-tinted. It had been of all things the mostharassing and wearing--a life of dreary necessitude--a perpetual strugglewith debt. Except play, her father had scarcely any resource for alivelihood. He affected, indeed, to give lessons in Italian and French toyoung Englishmen; but he was so fastidious as to the rank and condition ofhis pupils, so unaccommodating as to his hours and so unpunctual, that itwas evident that the whole was a mere pretence of industry, to avoid thereproach of being utterly dependent on the play-table; besides this, inhis capacity as a teacher he obtained access to houses and acceptancewith families where he would have found entrance impossible under othercircumstances. 

He was polished and good-looking. All his habits bespoke familiarity withsociety; and he knew to the nicest fraction the amount of intimacy he mightventure on with any one. Some did not like him--the man of a questionableposition, the reduced gentleman, has terrible prejudices to combat. Hemust always be suspected--Heaven knows of what, but of some covert designagainst the religion or the pocket, or the influence of those who admithim. Some thought him dangerous because his manners were insinuating, andhis address studiously directed to captivate. Others did not fancy hispassion for mixing in the world, and frequenting society to which hisstraitened means appeared to deny him rightful access; but when he hadsucceeded in introducing his daughter to the world, and people began tosay, 'See how admirably M. Kostalergi has brought up that girl! how nicelymannered she is, how ladylike, how well bred, what a linguist, what amusician!' a complete revulsion took place in public opinion, and manywho had but half trusted, or less than liked him before, became now hisstanchest friends and adherents. Nina had been a great success in society, and she reaped the full benefit of it. Sufficiently well born to beadmitted, without any special condescension, into good houses, she was inmanner and style the equal of any; and though her dress was ever of thecheapest and plainest, her fresh toilet was often commented on with praiseby those who did not fully remember what added grace and elegance thewearer had lent it. 

From the wealthy nobles to whom her musical genius had strongly recommendedher, numerous and sometimes costly presents were sent in acknowledgment ofher charming gifts; and these, as invariably, were converted into moneyby her father, who, after a while, gave it to be understood that therecompense would be always more welcome in that form. 

Nina, however, for a long time knew nothing of this; she saw herself soughtafter and flattered in society, selected for peculiar attention wherevershe went, complimented on her acquirements, and made much of to an extentthat not unfrequently excited the envy and jealousy of girls much morefavourably placed by fortune than herself. If her long mornings andafternoons were passed amidst solitude and poverty, vulgar cares, andharassing importunities, when night came, she emerged into the blaze oflighted lustres and gilded salons, to move in an atmosphere of splendourand sweet sounds, with all that could captivate the senses and exaltimagination. This twofold life of meanness and magnificence so wrought uponher nature as to develop almost two individualities. The one hard, stern, realistic, even to grudgingness; the other gay, buoyant, enthusiastic, andardent; and they who only saw her of an evening in all the exultation ofher flattered beauty, followed about by a train of admiring worshippers, addressed in all that exaggeration of language Italy sanctions, pampered bycaresses, and honoured by homage on every side, little knew by what drearytorpor of heart and mind that joyous ecstasy they witnessed had beenpreceded, nor by what a bound her emotions had sprung from the depths ofbrooding melancholy to this paroxysm of delight; nor could the worn-out andwearied followers of pleasure comprehend the intense enjoyment producedby sights and sounds which in their case no fancy idealised, no soaringimagination had lifted to the heaven of bliss. 

Kostalergi seemed for a while to content himself with the secret resourcesof his daughter's successes, but at length he launched out into heavy playonce more, and lost largely. It was in this strait that he bethought him ofnegotiating with a theatrical manager for Nina's appearance on the stage. These contracts take the precise form of a sale, where the victim, inconsideration of being educated, and maintained, and paid a certain amount, is bound, legally bound, to devote her services to a master for a giventime. The impresario of the 'Fenice' had often heard from travellers ofthat wonderful mezzo-soprano voice which was captivating all Rome, wherethe beauty and grace of the singer were extolled not less loudly. The greatskill of these astute providers for the world's pleasure is evidenced innothing more remarkably than the instinctive quickness with which theypounce upon the indications of dramatic genius, and hasten away--halfacross the globe if need be--to secure it. Signor Lanari was not slow toprocure a letter of introduction to Kostalergi, and very soon acquaintedhim with his object. 

Under the pretence that he was an old friend and former schoolfellow, Kostalergi asked him to share their humble dinner, and there, in thatmeanly-furnished room, and with the accompaniment of a wretched andjangling instrument, Nina so astonished and charmed him by her performance, that all the habitual reserve of the cautious bargainer gave way, and heburst out into exclamations of enthusiastic delight, ending with--'She ismine! she is mine! I tell you, since Persiani, there has been nothing likeher!'

Nothing remained now but to reveal the plan to herself, and thoughcertainly neither the Greek nor his guest were deficient in descriptivepower, or failed to paint in glowing colours the gorgeous processions oftriumphs that await stage success, she listened with little pleasure to itall. She had already walked the boards of what she thought a higher arena. She had tasted flatteries unalloyed with any sense of decided inferiority;she had moved amongst dukes and duchesses with a recognised station, andreceived their compliments with ease and dignity. Was all this reality ofcondition to be exchanged for a mock splendour, and a feigned greatness?was she to be subjected to the licensed stare and criticism and coarsecomment, it may be, of hundreds she never knew, nor would stoop to know?and was the adulation she now lived in to be bartered for the vulgarapplause of those who, if dissatisfied, could testify the feeling as openlyand unsparingly? She said very little of what she felt in her heart, but nosooner alone in her room at night, than she wrote that letter to her uncleentreating his protection. 

It had been arranged with Lanari that she should make one appearance at asmall provincial theatre so soon as she could master any easy part, andKostalergi, having some acquaintance with the manager at Orvieto, hastenedoff there to obtain his permission for her appearance. It was of this briefabsence she profited to fly from Rome, the banker conveying her as far asCivita Vecchia, whence she sailed direct for Marseilles. And now we seeher, as she found herself in the dreary old Irish mansion, sad, silent, andneglected, wondering whether the past was all a dream, or if the unbrokencalm in which she now lived was not a sleep. 

Conceding her perfect liberty to pass her time how she liked, they exactedfrom her no appearance at meals, nor any conformity with the ways ofothers, and she never came to breakfast, and only entered the drawing-rooma short time before dinner. Kate, who had counted on her companionship andsociety, and hoped to see her sharing with her the little cares and dutiesof her life, and taking interest in her pursuits, was sorely grieved ather estrangement, but continued to believe it would wear off with timeand familiarity with the place. Kearney himself, in secret, resentedthe freedom with which she disregarded the discipline of his house, andgrumbled at times over foreign ways and habits that he had no fancy tosee under his roof. When she did appear, however, her winning manners, her grace, and a certain half-caressing coquetry she could practise toperfection, so soothed and amused him that he soon forgot any momentarydispleasure, and more than once gave up his evening visit to the club atMoate to listen to her as she sang, or hear her sketch off some trait ofthat Roman society in which British pretension and eccentricity oftenfigured so amusingly. 

Like a faithful son of the Church, too, he never wearied hearing of thePope and of the Cardinals, of glorious ceremonials of the Church, andfestivals observed with all the pomp and state that pealing organs, and incense, and gorgeous vestments could confer. The contrast betweenthe sufferance under which his Church existed at home and the honoursand homage rendered to it abroad, were a fruitful stimulant to thatdisaffection he felt towards England, and would not unfrequently lead himaway to long diatribes about penal laws and the many disabilities which hadenslaved Ireland, and reduced himself, the descendant of a princely race, to the condition of a ruined gentleman. 

To Kate these complainings were ever distasteful; she had but onephilosophy, which was 'to bear up well, ' and when, not that, 'as well asyou could. ' She saw scores of things around her to be remedied, or, atleast, bettered, by a little exertion, and not one which could be helpedby a vain regret. For the loss of that old barbaric splendour and profuseluxury which her father mourned over, she had no regrets. She knew thatthese wasteful and profligate livers had done nothing for the people eitherin act or in example; that they were a selfish, worthless, self-indulgentrace, caring for nothing but their pleasures, and making all theirpatriotism consist in a hate towards England. 

These were not Nina's thoughts. She liked all these stories of a time ofpower and might, when the Kearneys were great chieftains, and the oldcastle the scene of revelry and feasting. 

She drew prettily, and it amused her to illustrate the curious tales theold man told her of rays and forays, the wild old life of savage chieftainsand the scarcely less savage conquerors. On one of these--she called it'The Return of O'Caharney'--she bestowed such labour and study, that heruncle would sit for hours watching the work, not knowing if his heartwere more stirred by the claim of his ancestor's greatness, or by themarvellous skill that realised the whole scene before him. The head of theyoung chieftain was to be filled in when Dick came home. Meanwhile greatpersuasions were being used to induce Peter Gill to sit for a kern who hadshared the exile of his masters, but had afterwards betrayed them to theEnglish; and whether Gill had heard some dropping word of the part he wasmeant to fill, or that his own suspicion had taken alarm from certaindirections the young lady gave as to the expression he was to assume, certain is it nothing could induce him to comply, and go down to posteritywith the immortality of crime. 

The little long-neglected drawing-room where Nina had set up her easelbecame now the usual morning lounge of the old man, who loved to sit andwatch her as she worked, and, what amused him even more, listen while shetalked. It seemed to him like a revival of the past to hear of the world, that gay world of feasting and enjoyment, of which for so many years hehad known nothing; and here he was back in it again, and with grandercompany and higher names than he ever remembered. 'Why was not Kate likeher?' would he mutter over and over to himself. Kate was a good girl, fine-tempered and happy-hearted, but she had no accomplishments, none ofthose refinements of the other. If he wanted to present her at 'the Castle'one of these days, he did not know if she would have tact enough for theordeal; but Nina!--Nina was sure to make an actual sensation, as much byher grace and her style as by her beauty. Kearney never came into theroom where she was without being struck by the elegance of her demeanour, the way she would rise to receive him, her step, her carriage, the verydisposal of her drapery as she sat; the modulated tone of her voice, and asort of purring satisfaction as she took his hand and heard his praisesof her, spread like a charm over him, so that he never knew how the timeslipped by as he sat beside her. 

Have you ever written to your father since you came here?' asked he one dayas they talked together. 

'Yes, sir; and yesterday I got a letter from him. Such a nice letter, sir--no complainings, no reproaches for my running away; but all sorts ofgood wishes for my happiness. He owns he was sorry to have ever thoughtof the stage for me; but he says this lawsuit he is engaged in about hisgrandfather's will may last for years, and that he knew I was so certainof a great success, and that a great success means more than mere money, he fancied that in my triumph he would reap the recompense for his owndisasters. He is now, however, far happier that I have found a home, a realhome, and says, "Tell my lord I am heartily ashamed of all my rudeness withregard to him, and would willingly make a pilgrimage to the end of Europeto ask his pardon"; and say besides that "when I shall be restored tothe fortune and rank of my ancestors"--you know, ' added she, 'he is aprince--"my first act will be to throw myself at his feet, and beg to beforgiven by him. "'

'What is the property? is it land?' asked he, with the half-suspectfulnessof one not fully assured of what he was listening to. 

'Yes, sir; the estate is in Delos. I have seen the plan of the grounds andgardens of the palace, which are princely. Here, on this seal, ' said she, showing the envelope of her letter, 'you can see the arms; papa never omitsto use it, though on his card he is written only "of the princes"--a formobserved with us. '

'And what chance has he of getting it all back again?'

'That is more than I can tell you; he himself is sometimes very confident, and talks as if there could not be a doubt of it. '

'Used your poor mother to believe it?' asked he, half-tremulously. 

'I can scarcely say, sir; I can barely remember her; but I have heard papablame her for not interesting her high connections in England in his suit;he often thought that a word to the ambassador at Athens would have almostdecided the case. '

'High connections, indeed!' burst he forth. 'By my conscience, they'repretty much out at elbows, like himself; and if we were trying to recoverour own right to-morrow, the look-out would be bleak enough!'

'Papa is not easily cast down, sir; he has a very sanguine spirit. '

'Maybe you think it's what is wanting in my case, eh, Nina? Say it out, girl; tell me, I'd be the better for a little of your father's hopefulness, eh?'

'You could not change to anything I could like better than what you are, 'said she, taking his hand and kissing it. 

'Ah, you 're a rare one to say coaxing things, ' said he, looking fondly onher. 'I believe you'd be the best advocate for either of us if the courtswould let you plead for us. '

'I wish they would, sir, ' said she proudly. 

'What is that?' cried he suddenly; 'sure it's not putting myself you are inthe picture!'

'Of course I am, sir. Was not the O'Caharney your ancestor? Is it likelythat an old race had not traits of feature and lineament that ages ofdescent could not efface? I'd swear that strong brow and frank look must bean heirloom. '

''Faith, then, almost the only one!' said he, sighing. 'Who's making thatnoise out there?' said he, rising and going to the window. 'Oh, it's Katewith her dogs. I often tell her she 'd keep a pair of ponies for less thanthose troublesome brutes cost her. '

'They are great company to her, she says, and she lives so much in the openair. '

'I know she does, ' said he, dropping his head and sitting like one whosethoughts had taken a brooding, despondent turn. 

'One more sitting I must have, sir, for the hair. You had it beautifullyyesterday: it fell over on one side with a most perfect light on a largelock here. Will you give me half an hour to-morrow, say?'

[Illustration: 'One more sitting I must have, sir, for the hair']

'I can't promise you, my dear. Peter Gill has been urging me to go over toLoughrea for the fair; and if we go, we ought to be there by Saturday, andhave a quiet look at the stock before the sales begin. '

'And are you going to be long away?' said she poutingly, as she leaned overthe back of his chair, and suffered her curls to fall half across his face. 

'I'll be right glad to be back again, ' said he, pressing her head down tillhe could kiss her cheek, 'right glad!'

CHAPTER VI

THE 'BLUE GOAT'

The 'Blue Goat' in the small town of Moate is scarcely a model hostel. The entrance-hall is too much encumbered by tramps and beggars of variousorders and ages, who not only resort there to take their meals and play atcards, but to divide the spoils and settle the accounts of their several'industries, ' and occasionally to clear off other scores which demandpolice interference. On the left is the bar; the right-hand being used asthe office of a land-agent, is besieged by crowds of country-people, inwhom, if language is to be trusted, the grievous wrongs of land-tenureare painfully portrayed--nothing but complaint, dogged determination, and resistance being heard on every side. Behind the bar is a longlow-ceilinged apartment, the parlour _par excellence_, only used bydistinguished visitors, and reserved on one especial evening of theweek for the meeting of the 'Goats, ' as the members of a club callthemselves--the chief, indeed the founder, being our friend Mathew Kearney, whose title of sovereignty was 'Buck-Goat, ' and whose portrait, paintedby a native artist and presented by the society, figured over themantel-piece. The village Van Dyck would seem to have invested largely incarmine, and though far from parsimonious of it on the cheeks and the noseof his sitter, he was driven to work off some of his superabundant stockon the cravat, and even the hands, which, though amicably crossed in frontof the white-waistcoated stomach, are fearfully suggestive of some recentdeed of blood. The pleasant geniality of the countenance is, however, reassuring. Nor--except a decided squint, by which the artist hadambitiously attempted to convey a humoristic drollery to the expression--isthere anything sinister in the portrait. 

An inscription on the frame announces that this picture of their respectedfounder was presented, on his fiftieth birthday, 'To Mathew Kearney, sixthViscount Kilgobbin'; various devices of 'caprine' significance, heads, horns, and hoofs, profusely decorating the frame. If the antiquary shouldlose himself in researches for the origin of this society, it is as wellto admit at once that the landlord's sign of the 'Blue Goat' gave theinitiative to the name, and that the worthy associates derived nothingfrom classical authority, and never assumed to be descendants of fauns orsatyrs, but respectable shopkeepers of Moate, and unexceptional judges of'poteen. ' A large jug of this insinuating liquor figured on the table, andwas called 'Goat's-milk'; and if these humoristic traits are so carefullyenumerated, it is because they comprised all that was specially drollor quaint in these social gatherings, the members of which were a verycommonplace set of men, who discussed their little local topics in veryordinary fashion, slightly elevated, perhaps, in self-esteem, by thinkinghow little the outer world knew of their dulness and dreariness. 

As the meetings were usually determined on by the will of the president, who announced at the hour of separation when they were to reassemble, andas, since his niece's arrival, Kearney had almost totally forgotten his oldassociates, the club-room ceased to be regarded as the holy of holies, andwas occasionally used by the landlord for the reception of such visitors ashe deemed worthy of peculiar honour. 

It was on a very wet night of that especially rainy month in the Irishcalendar, July, that two travellers sat over a turf fire in this sacredchamber, various articles of their attire being spread out to dry beforethe blaze, the owners of which actually steamed with the effects of theheat upon their damp habiliments. Some fishing-tackle and two knapsacks, which lay in a corner, showed they were pedestrians, and their looks, voice, and manner proclaimed them still more unmistakably to be gentlemen. 

One was a tall, sunburnt, soldierlike man of six or seven-and-thirty, powerfully built, and with that solidity of gesture and firmness of treadsometimes so marked with strong men. A mere glance at him showed he was acold, silent, somewhat haughty man, not given to hasty resolves or in anyway impulsive, and it is just possible that a long acquaintance with himwould not have revealed a great deal more. He had served in a half-dozenregiments, and although all declared that Henry Lockwood was an honourablefellow, a good soldier, and thoroughly 'safe'--very meaning epithet--therewere no very deep regrets when he 'exchanged, ' nor was there, perhaps, one man who felt he had lost his 'pal' by his going. He was now in theCarbineers, and serving as an extra aide-de-camp to the Viceroy. 

Not a little unlike him in most respects was the man who sat oppositehim--a pale, finely-featured, almost effeminate-looking young fellow, with a small line of dark moustache, and a beard _en Henri Quatre_, tothe effect of which a collar cut in Van Dyck fashion gave an especialsignificance. Cecil Walpole was disposed to be pictorial in his get-up, and the purple dye of his knickerbocker stockings, the slouching plumageof his Tyrol hat, and the graceful hang of his jacket, had excited envyin quarters where envy was fame. He too was on the viceregal staff, beingprivate secretary to his relative the Lord-Lieutenant, during whose absencein England they had undertaken a ramble to the Westmeath lakes, not verypositive whether their object was to angle for trout or to fish for that'knowledge of Ireland' so popularly sought after in our day, and whichdisplays itself so profusely in platform speeches and letters to the Times. Lockwood, not impossibly, would have said it was 'to do a bit of walking'he had come. He had gained eight pounds by that indolent Phoenix-Park lifehe was leading, and he had no fancy to go back to Leicestershire too heavyfor his cattle. He was not--few hunting men are--an ardent fisherman; andas for the vexed question of Irish politics, he did not see why he wasto trouble his head to unravel the puzzles that were too much for Mr. Gladstone; not to say, that he felt to meddle with these matters was likeinterfering with another man's department. 'I don't suspect, ' he wouldsay, 'I should fancy John Bright coming down to "stables" and dictatingto me how my Irish horses should be shod, or what was the best bit fora "borer. "' He saw, besides, that the game of politics was a game ofcompromises: something was deemed admirable now that had been hithertoalmost execrable; and that which was utterly impossible to-day, if donelast year would have been a triumphant success, and consequently hepronounced the whole thing an 'imposition and a humbug. ' 'I can understanda right and a wrong as well as any man, ' he would say, 'but I know nothingabout things that are neither or both, according to who's in or who's outof the Cabinet. Give me the command of twelve thousand men, let me dividethem into three flying columns, and if I don't keep Ireland quiet, draftme into a West Indian regiment, that's all. ' And as to the idea of issuingspecial commissions, passing new Acts of Parliament, or suspending oldones, to do what he or any other intelligent soldier could do without anyknavery or any corruption, 'John Bright might tell us, ' but he couldn't. And here it may be well to observe that it was a favourite form of speechwith him to refer to this illustrious public man in this familiar manner;but always to show what a condition of muddle and confusion must ensue ifwe followed the counsels that name emblematised; nor did he know a morecutting sarcasm to reply to an adversary than when he had said, 'Oh, JohnBright would agree with you, ' or, 'I don't think John Bright could gofurther. '

Of a very different stamp was his companion. He was a young gentleman whomwe cannot more easily characterise than by calling him, in the cant of theday, 'of the period. ' He was essentially the most recent product of the agewe live in. Manly enough in some things, he was fastidious in others tothe very verge of effeminacy; an aristocrat by birth and by predilection, he made a parade of democratic opinions. He affected a sort of Crichtonismin the variety of his gifts, and as linguist, musician, artist, poet, andphilosopher, loved to display the scores of things he might be, instead ofthat mild, very ordinary young gentleman that he was. He had done a littleof almost everything: he had been in the Guards, in diplomacy, in the Housefor a brief session, had made an African tour, written a pleasant littlebook about the Nile, with the illustrations by his own hand. Still he wasgreater in promise than performance. There was an opera of his partlyfinished; a five-act comedy almost ready for the stage; a half-executedgroup he had left in some studio in Rome, showed what he might have donein sculpture. When his distinguished relative the Marquis of Danesburyrecalled him from his post as secretary of legation in Italy, to join himat his Irish seat of government, the phrase in which he invited him toreturn is not without its significance, and we give it as it occurred inthe context: 'I have no fancy for the post they have assigned me, nor isit what I had hoped for. They say, however, I shall succeed here. _Nousverrons_. Meanwhile, I remember your often remarking, "There is a greatgame to be played in Ireland. " Come over at once, then, and let me have atalk with you over it. I shall manage the question of your leave by makingyou private secretary for the moment. We shall have many difficulties, butIreland will be the worst of them. Do not delay, therefore, for I shallonly go over to be sworn in, etc. , and return for the third reading of theChurch Bill, and I should like to see you in Dublin (and leave you there)when I go. '

Except that they were both members of the viceregal household, and Englishby birth, there was scarcely a tie between these very dissimilar natures;but somehow the accidents of daily life, stronger than the traits ofdisposition, threw them into intimacy, and they agreed it would be a goodthing 'to see something of Ireland'; and with this wise resolve they hadset out on that half-fishing excursion, which, having taken them overthe Westmeath lakes, now was directing them to the Shannon, but with aninfirmity of purpose to which lack of sport and disastrous weather werecontributing powerfully at the moment we have presented them to our reader. 

To employ the phrase which it is possible each might have used, they 'likedeach other well enough'--that is, each found something in the other he'could get on with'; but there was no stronger tie of regard or friendshipbetween them, and each thought he perceived some flaw of pretension, oraffected wisdom, or selfishness, or vanity, in the other, and actuallybelieved he amused himself by its display. In natures, tastes, anddispositions, they were miles asunder, and disagreement between them wouldhave been unceasing on every subject, had they not been gentlemen. It wasthis alone--this gentleman element--made their companionship possible, and, in the long run, not unpleasant. So much more has good-breeding to do inthe common working of daily life than the more valuable qualities of mindand temperament. 

Though much younger than his companion, Walpole took the lead in all thearrangements of the journey, determined where and how long they shouldhalt, and decided on the route next to be taken; the other showing a realor affected indifference on all these matters, and making of his town-bredapathy a very serviceable quality in the midst of Irish barbarismand desolation. On politics, too--if that be the name for such lightconvictions as they entertained--they differed: the soldier's ideas beingformed on what he fancied would be the late Duke of Wellington's opinion, and consisted in what he called 'putting down. ' Walpole was a promisingWhig; that is, one who coquets with Radical notions, but fastidiouslyavoids contact with the mob; and who, fervently believing that all popularconcessions are spurious if not stamped with Whig approval, would like totreat the democratic leaders as forgers and knaves. 

If, then, there was not much of similarity between these two men to attachthem to each other, there was what served for a bond of union: theybelonged to the same class in life, and used pretty nigh the same formsfor their expression of like and dislike; and as in traffic it contributeswonderfully to the facilities of business to use the same money, so in thecommon intercourse of life will the habit to estimate things at the samevalue conduce to very easy relations, and something almost like friendship. 

While they sat over the fire awaiting their supper, each had lighted acigar, busying himself from time to time in endeavouring to dry somedrenched article of dress, or extracting from damp and dripping pocketstheir several contents. 

'This, then, ' said the younger man--'this is the picturesque Irelandour tourist writers tell us of; and the land where the _Times_ saysthe traveller will find more to interest him than in the Tyrol or theOberland. '

'What about the climate?' said the other, in a deep bass voice. 

'Mild and moist, I believe, are the epithets; that is, it makes you damp, and it keeps you so. '

'And the inns?'

'The inns, it is admitted, might be better; but the traveller is admonishedagainst fastidiousness, and told that the prompt spirit of obligeance, the genial cordiality, he will meet with, are more than enough to repayhim for the want of more polished habits and mere details of comfort andconvenience. '

'Rotten humbug! _I_ don't want cordiality from my innkeeper. '

'I should think not! As, for instance, a bit of carpet in this room wouldbe worth more than all the courtesy that showed us in. '

'What was that lake called--the first place I mean?' asked Lockwood. 

'Lough Brin. I shouldn't say but with better weather it might be pretty. '

A half-grunt of dissent was all the reply, and Walpole went on--

It's no use painting a landscape when it is to be smudged all over withIndian ink. There are no tints in mountains swathed in mist, no colour intrees swamped with moisture; everything seems so imbued with damp, onefancies it would take two years in the tropics to dry Ireland. '

'I asked that fellow who showed us the way here, why he didn't pitch offthose wet rags he wore, and walk away in all the dignity of nakedness. '

A large dish of rashers and eggs, and a mess of Irish stew, which thelandlord now placed on the table, with a foaming jug of malt, seemed torally them out of their ill-temper; and for some time they talked away in amore cheerful tone. 

'Better than I hoped for, ' said Walpole. 

'Fair!'

'And that ale, too--I suppose it is called ale--is very tolerable. '

'It's downright good. Let us have some more of it. ' And he shouted, 'Master!' at the top of his voice. 'More of this, ' said Lockwood, touchingthe measure. 'Beer or ale, which is it?'

'Castle Bellingham, sir, ' replied the landlord; 'beats all the Bass andAllsopp that ever was brewed. '

'You think so, eh?'

'I'm sure of it, sir. The club that sits here had a debate on it one night, and put it to the vote, and there wasn't one man for the English liquor. Mylord there, ' said he, pointing to the portrait, 'sent an account of it allto _Saunders_' newspaper. '

While he left the room to fetch the ale, the travellers both fixedtheir eyes on the picture, and Walpole, rising, read out theinscription--'Viscount Kilgobbin. '

'There's no such title, ' said the other bluntly. 

'Lord Kilgobbin--Kilgobbin? Where did I hear that name before?'

'In a dream, perhaps. '

'No, no. I _have_ heard it, if I could only remember where and how! I say, landlord, where does his lordship live?' and he pointed to the portrait. 

'Beyond, at the castle, sir. You can see it from the door without when theweather's fine. '

'That must mean on a very rare occasion!' said Lockwood gravely. 

'No indeed, sir. It didn't begin to rain on Tuesday last till after threeo'clock. '

'Magnificent climate!' exclaimed Walpole enthusiastically. 

'It is indeed, sir. Glory be to God!' said the landlord, with an honestgravity that set them both off laughing. 

'How about this club--does it meet often?'

'It used, sir, to meet every Thursday evening, and my lord never misseda night, but quite lately he took it in his head not to come out in theevenings. Some say it was the rheumatism, and more says it's the unsettledstate of the country; though, the Lord be praised for it, there wasn't aman fired at in the neighbourhood since Easter, and _he_ was a peeler. '

'One of the constabulary?'

'Yes, sir; a dirty, mean chap, that was looking after a poor boy that setfire to Mr. Hagin's ricks, and that was over a year ago. '

'And naturally forgotten by this time?'

'By coorse it was forgotten. Ould Mat Hagin got a presentment for thedamage out of the grand-jury, and nobody was the worse for it at all. '

'And so the club is smashed, eh?'

'As good as smashed, sir; for whenever any of them comes now of an evening, he just goes into the bar and takes his glass there. '

He sighed heavily as he said this, and seemed overcome with sadness. 

'I'm trying to remember why the name is so familiar to me. I know I haveheard of Lord Kilgobbin before, ' said Walpole. 

'Maybe so, ' said the landlord respectfully. 'You may have read in bookshow it was at Kilgobbin Castle King James came to stop after the Boyne;that he held a "coort" there in the big drawing-room--they call it the"throne-room" ever since--and slept two nights at the castle afterwards?'

'That's something to see, Walpole, ' said Lockwood. 

'So it is. How is that to be managed, landlord? Does his lordship permitstrangers to visit the castle?'

'Nothing easier than that, sir, ' said the host, who gladly embraced aproject that should detain his guests at the inn. 'My lord went through thetown this morning on his way to Loughrea fair; but the young ladies is athome; and you've only to send over a message, and say you'd like to see theplace, and they'll be proud to show it to you. '

'Let us send our cards, with a line in pencil, ' said Walpole, in a whisperto his friend. 

'And there are young ladies there?' asked Lockwood. 

'Two born beauties; it's hard to say which is handsomest, ' replied thehost, overjoyed at the attraction his neighbourhood possessed. 

'I suppose that will do?' said Walpole, showing what he had written on hiscard. 

'Yes, perfectly. '

'Despatch this at once. I mean early to-morrow; and let your messenger askif there be an answer. How far is it off?'

'A little over twelve miles, sir; but I've a mare in the stable will"rowle" ye over in an hour and a quarter. '

'All right. We'll settle on everything after breakfast to-morrow. ' And thelandlord withdrew, leaving them once more alone. 

'This means, ' said Lockwood drearily, 'we shall have to pass a day in thiswretched place. '

'It will take a day to dry our wet clothes; and, all things considered, onemight be worse off than here. Besides, I shall want to look over my notes. I have done next to nothing, up to this time, about the Land Question. '

'I thought that the old fellow with the cow, the fellow I gave a cigar to, had made you up in your tenant-right affair, ' said Lockwood. 

'He gave me a great deal of very valuable information; he exposed some ofthe evils of tenancy at will as ably as I ever heard them treated, but hewas occasionally hard on the landlord. '

'I suppose one word of truth never came out of his mouth!'

'On the contrary, real knowledge of Ireland is not to be acquired fromnewspapers; a man must see Ireland for himself--_see_ it, ' repeated he, with strong emphasis. 

'And then?'

'And then, if he be a capable man, a reflecting man, a man in whom theperceptive power is joined to the social faculty--'

'Look here, Cecil, one hearer won't make a House: don't try it onspeechifying to me. It's all humbug coming over to look at Ireland. You maypick up a little brogue, but it's all you'll pick up for your journey. 'After this, for him, unusually long speech, he finished his glass, lightedhis bedroom candle, and nodding a good-night, strolled away. 

'I'd give a crown to know where I heard of you before!' said Walpole, as hestared up at the portrait. 

CHAPTER VII

THE COUSINS

'Only think of it!' cried Kate to her cousin, as she received Walpole'snote. 'Can you fancy, Nina, any one having the curiosity to imagine thisold house worth a visit? Here is a polite request from two tourists to beallowed to see the--what is it?--the interesting interior of KilgobbinCastle!'

'Which I hope and trust you will refuse. The people who are so eager forthese things are invariably tiresome old bores, grubbing for antiquities, or intently bent on adding a chapter to their story of travel. You'll sayNo, dearest, won't you?'

'Certainly, if you wish it. I am not acquainted with Captain Lockwood, norhis friend Mr. Cecil Walpole. '

'Did you say Cecil Walpole?' cried the other, almost snatching the cardfrom her fingers. 'Of all the strange chances in life, this is the verystrangest! What could have brought Cecil Walpole here?'

'You know him, then?'

'I should think I do! What duets have we not sung together? What waltzeshave we not had? What rides over the Campagna? Oh dear! how I should liketo talk over these old times again! Pray tell him he may come, Kate, or letme do it. '

'And papa away!'

'It is the castle, dearest, he wants to see, not papa! You don't knowwhat manner of creature this is! He is one of your refined and supremelycultivated English--mad about archæology and mediæval trumpery. He'll knowall your ancestors intended by every insane piece of architecture, andevery puzzling detail of this old house; and he'll light up every corner ofit with some gleam of bright tradition. '

'I thought these sort of people were bores, dear?' said Kate, with a slymalice in her look. 

'Of course not. When they are well-bred and well-mannered---'

'And perhaps well-looking?' chimed in Kate. 

'Yes, and so he is--a little of the _petit-maître_, perhaps. He's much ofthat school which fiction-writers describe as having "finely-pencilledeyebrows, and chins of almost womanlike roundness"; but people in Romealways called him handsome, that is if he be my Cecil Walpole. '

'Well, then, will you tell YOUR Cecil Walpole, in such polite terms asyou know how to coin, that there is really nothing of the very slightestpretension to interest in this old place; that we should be ashamed athaving lent ourselves to the delusion that might have led him here; andlastly, that the owner is from home?'

'What! and is this the Irish hospitality I have heard so much of--thecordial welcome the stranger may reckon on as a certainty, and make all hisplans with the full confidence of meeting?'

'There is such a thing as discretion, also, to be remembered, Nina, ' saidKate gravely. 

'And then there's the room where the king slept, and the chair that--no, not Oliver Cromwell, but somebody else sat in at supper, and there's thegreat patch painted on the floor where your ancestor knelt to be knighted. '

'He was created a viscount, not a knight!' said Kate, blushing. 'And thereis a difference, I assure you. '

'So there is, dearest, and even my foreign ignorance should know that much, and you have the parchment that attests it--a most curious document, thatWalpole would be delighted to see. I almost fancy him examining the curiousold seal with his microscope, and hear him unfolding all sorts of detailsone never so much as suspected. '

'Papa might not like it, ' said Kate, bridling up. 'Even were he at home, I am far from certain he would receive these gentlemen. It is littlemore than a year ago there came here a certain book-writing tourist, andpresented himself without introduction. We received him hospitably, and hestayed part of a week here. He was fond of antiquarianism, but more eagerstill about the condition of the people--what kind of husbandry theypractised, what wages they had, and what food. Papa took him over the wholeestate, and answered all his questions freely and openly. And this man madea chapter of his book upon us, and headed it, "Rack-renting and riotousliving, " distorting all he heard and sneering at all he saw. '

'These are gentlemen, dearest Kate, ' said Nina, holding out the card. 'Comenow, do tell me that I may say you will be happy to see them?'

'If you must have it so--if you really insist--'

'I do! I do!' cried she, half wildly. 'I should go distracted if you deniedme. O Kate! I must own it. It will out. I do cling devotedly, terribly, tothat old life of the past. I am very happy here, and you are all good, andkind, and loving to me; but that wayward, haphazard existence, with all itstrials and miseries, had got little glimpses of such bliss at times thatrose to actual ecstasy. '

'I was afraid of this, ' said Kate, in a low but firm voice. 'I thought whata change it would be for you from that life of brightness and festivity tothis existence of dull and unbroken dreariness. '

'No, no, no! Don't say that! Do not fancy that I am not happier than Iever was or ever believed I could be. It was the castle-building of thattime that I was regretting. I imagined so many things, I invented suchsituations, such incidents, which, with this sad-coloured landscape hereand that leaden sky, I have no force to conjure up. It is as though theatmosphere is too weighty for fancy to mount in it. You, my dearest Kate, 'said she, drawing her arm round her, and pressing her towards her, 'do notknow these things, nor need ever know them. Your life is assured and safe. You cannot, indeed, be secure from the passing accidents of life, but theywill meet you in a spirit able to confront them. As for me, I was alwaysgambling for existence, and gambling without means to pay my losses ifFortune should turn against me. Do you understand me, child?'

'Only in part, if even that, ' said she slowly. 

'Let us keep this theme, then, for another time. Now for _ces messieurs_. Iam to invite them?'

'If there was time to ask Miss O'Shea to come over--'

'Do you not fancy, Kate, that in your father's house, surrounded withyour father's servants, you are sufficiently the mistress to do without achaperon? Only preserve that grand austere look you have listened to mewith these last ten minutes, and I should like to see the youthful audacitythat could brave it. There, I shall go and write my note. You shall see howdiscreetly and properly I shall word it. '

Kate walked thoughtfully towards a window and looked out, while Ninaskipped gaily down the room, and opened her writing-desk, humming an operaair as she wrote:--

'KILGOBBIN CASTLE. 

'DEAR MR. WALPOLE, --I can scarcely tell you the pleasure I feel at theprospect of seeing a dear friend, or a friend from dear Italy, whicheverbe the most proper to say. My uncle is from home, and will not return tillthe day after to-morrow at dinner; but my cousin, Miss Kearney, chargesme to say how happy she will be to receive you and your fellow-travellerat luncheon to-morrow. Pray not to trouble yourself with an answer, butbelieve me very sincerely yours, 'NINA KOSTALERGI. '

'I was right in saying luncheon, Kate, and not dinner--was I not? It isless formal. '

'I suppose so; that is, if it was right to invite them at all, of which Ihave very great misgivings. '

'I wonder what brought Cecil Walpole down here?' said Nina, glad to turnthe discussion into another channel. 'Could he have heard that I was here?Probably not. It was a mere chance, I suppose. Strange things these samechances are, that do so much more in our lives than all our plottings!'

'Tell me something of your friend, perhaps I ought to say your admirer, Nina!'

'Yes, very much my admirer; not seriously, you know, but in that charmingsort of adoration we cultivate abroad, that means anything or nothing. Hewas not titled, and I am afraid he was not rich, and this last misfortuneused to make his attention to me somewhat painful--to _him_ I mean, not to_me_; for, of course, as to anything serious, I looked much higher than apoor Secretary of Legation. '

'Did you?' asked Kate, with an air of quiet simplicity. 

'I should hope I did, ' said she haughtily; and she threw a glance atherself in a large mirror, and smiled proudly at the bright image thatconfronted her. 'Yes, darling, say it out, ' cried she, turning to Kate. 'Your eyes have uttered the words already. '

'What words?'

'Something about insufferable vanity and conceit, and I own to both! Oh, why is it that my high spirits have so run away with me this morning thatI have forgotten all reserve and all shame? But the truth is, I feel halfwild with joy, and joy in _my_ nature is another name for recklessness. '

'I sincerely hope not, ' said Kate gravely. 'At any rate, you give meanother reason for wishing to have Miss O'Shea here. '

'I will not have her--no, not for worlds, Kate, that odious old woman, withher stiff and antiquated propriety. Cecil would quiz her. '

'I am very certain he would not; at least, if he be such a perfectgentleman as you tell me. '

'Ah, but you'd never know he did it. The fine tact of these consummate menof the world derives a humoristic enjoyment in eccentricity of character, which never shows itself in any outward sign beyond the heightened pleasurethey feel in what other folks might call dulness or mere oddity. '

'I would not suffer an old friend to be made the subject of even suchlatent amusement. '

'Nor her nephew, either, perhaps?'

'The nephew could take care of himself, Nina; but I am not aware that hewill be called on to do so. He is not in Ireland, I believe. '

'He was to arrive this week. You told me so. '

'Perhaps he did; I had forgotten it!' and Kate flushed as she spoke, thoughwhether from shame or anger it was not easy to say. As though impatientwith herself at any display of temper, she added hurriedly, 'Was it nota piece of good fortune, Nina? Papa has left us the key of the cellar, athing he never did before, and only now because you were here!'

'What an honoured guest I am!' said the other, smiling. 

'That you are! I don't believe papa has gone once to the club since youcame here. '

'Now, if I were to own that I was vain of this, you'd rebuke me, would notyou?'

'_Our_ love could scarcely prompt to vanity. '

'How shall I ever learn to be humble enough in a family of such humility?'said Nina pettishly. Then quickly correcting herself, she said, 'I'll goand despatch my note, and then I'll come back and ask your pardon for allmy wilfulness, and tell you how much I thank you for all your goodness tome. '

And as she spoke she bent down and kissed Kate's hand twice or thricefervently. 

'Oh, dearest Nina, not this--not this!' said Kate, trying to clasp her inher arms; but the other had slipped from her grasp, and was gone. 

'Strange girl, ' muttered Kate, looking after her. 'I wonder shall I everunderstand you, or shall we ever understand each other?'

CHAPTER VIII

SHOWING HOW FRIENDS MAY DIFFER

The morning broke drearily for our friends, the two pedestrians, at the'Blue Goat. ' A day of dull aspect and soft rain in midsummer has the addeddepression that it seems an anachronism. One is in a measure prepared forbeing weather-bound in winter. You accept imprisonment as the naturalfortune of the season, or you brave the elements prepared to let them dotheir worst, while, if confined to house, you have that solace of snugness, that comfortable chimney-corner which somehow realises an immense amountof the joys we concentrate in the word 'Home. ' It is in the want of thisrallying-point, this little domestic altar, where all gather together in acommon worship, that lies the dreary discomfort of being weather-bound insummer, and when the prison is some small village inn, noisy, disorderly, and dirty, the misery is complete. 

'Grand old pig that!' said Lockwood, as he gazed out upon the filthy yard, where a fat old sow contemplated the weather from the threshold of herdwelling. 

'I wish she'd come out. I want to make a sketch of her, ' said the other. 

'Even one's tobacco grows too damp to smoke in this blessed climate, ' saidLockwood, as he pitched his cigar away. 'Heigh-ho! We 're too late for thetrain to town, I see. '

'You'd not go back, would you?'

'I should think I would! That old den in the upper castle-yard is not verycheery or very nice, but there is a chair to sit on, and a review and anewspaper to read. A tour in a country and with a climate like this is amistake. '

'I suspect it is, ' said Walpole drearily. 

'There is nothing to see, no one to talk to, nowhere to stop at!'

'All true, ' muttered the other. 'By the way, haven't we some plan orproject for to-day--something about an old castle or an abbey to see?'

'Yes, and the waiter brought me a letter. I think it was addressed to you, and I left it on my dressing-table. I had forgotten all about it. I'll goand fetch it. '

Short as his absence was, it gave Walpole time enough to recur to hislate judgment on his tour, and once more call it a 'mistake, a completemistake. ' The Ireland of wits, dramatists, and romance-writers was aconventional thing, and bore no resemblance whatsoever to the rain-soaked, dreary-looking, depressed reality. 'These Irish, they are odd without beingdroll, just as they are poor without being picturesque; but of all thedelusions we nourish about them, there is not one so thoroughly absurd asto call them dangerous. '

He had just arrived at this mature opinion, when his friend re-entered andhanded him the note. 

'Here is a piece of luck. _Per Bacco_!' cried Walpole, as he ran over thelines. 'This beats all I could have hoped for. Listen to this--"Dear Mr. Walpole, --I cannot tell you the delight I feel in the prospect of seeing adear friend, or a friend from dear Italy, which is it? "'

'Who writes this?'

'A certain Mademoiselle Kostalergi, whom I knew at Rome; one of theprettiest, cleverest, and nicest girls I ever met in my life. '

'Not the daughter of that precious Count Kostalergi you have told me suchstories of?'

'The same, but most unlike him in every way. She is here, apparentlywith an uncle, who is now from home, and she and her cousin invite us toluncheon to-day. '

'What a lark!' said the other dryly. 

'We'll go, of course?'

'In weather like this?'

'Why not? Shall we be better off staying here? I now begin to remember howthe name of this place was so familiar to me. She was always asking me ifI knew or heard of her mother's brother, the Lord Kilgobbin, and, to telltruth, I fancied some one had been hoaxing her with the name, and neverbelieved that there was even a place with such a designation. '

'Kilgobbin does not sound like a lordly title. How about Mademoiselle--whatis the name?'

'Kostalergi; they call themselves princes. '

'With all my heart. I was only going to say, as you've got a sort of knackof entanglement--is there, or has there been, anything of that sort here?'

'Flirtation--a little of what is called "spooning"--but no more. But why doyou ask?'

'First of all, you are an engaged man. '

'All true, and I mean to keep my engagement. I can't marry, however, till Iget a mission, or something at home as good as a mission. Lady Maudeknows that; her friends know it, but none of us imagine that we are to bemiserable in the meantime. '

'I'm not talking of misery. I'd only say, don't get yourself into any mess. These foreign girls are very wide-awake. '

'Don't believe that, Harry; one of our home-bred damsels would give thema distance and beat them in the race for a husband. It's only in Englandgirls are trained to angle for marriage, take my word for it. '

'Be it so--I only warn you that if you get into any scrape I'll accept noneof the consequences. Lord Danesbury is ready enough to say that, because Iam some ten years older than you, I should have kept you out of mischief. Inever contracted for such a bear-leadership; though I certainly told LadyMaude I'd turn Queen's evidence against you if you became a traitor. '

'I wonder you never told me that before, ' said Walpole, with someirritation of manner. 

'I only wonder that I told it now!' replied the other gruffly. 

'Then I am to take it, that in your office of guardian, you'd rather we'ddecline this invitation, eh?'

'I don't care a rush for it either way, but, looking to the sort of day itis out there, I incline to keep the house. '

'I don't mind bad weather, and I'll go, ' said Walpole, in a way that showedtemper was involved in the resolution. 

Lockwood made no other reply than heaping a quantity of turf on the fire, and seating himself beside it. 

When a man tells his fellow-traveller that he means to go his ownroad--that companionship has no tie upon him--he virtually declares thepartnership dissolved; and while Lockwood sat reflecting over this, hewas also canvassing with himself how far he might have been to blame inprovoking this hasty resolution. 

'Perhaps he was irritated at my counsels, perhaps the notion of anythinglike guidance offended him; perhaps it was the phrase, "bear-leadership, "and the half-threat of betraying him, has done the mischief. ' Now thegallant soldier was a slow thinker; it took him a deal of time to arrangethe details of any matter in his mind, and when he tried to muster hisideas there were many which would not answer the call, and of thosewhich came, there were not a few which seemed to present themselves in arefractory and unwilling spirit, so that he had almost to suppress a mutinybefore he proceeded to his inspection. 

Nor did the strong cheroots, which he smoked to clear his faculties anddevelop his mental resources, always contribute to this end, though theirsoothing influence certainly helped to make him more satisfied with hisjudgments. 

'Now, look here, Walpole, ' said he, determining that he would save himselfall unnecessary labour of thought by throwing the burden of the case on therespondent--'Look here; take a calm view of this thing, and see if it'squite wise in you to go back into trammels it cost you some trouble toescape from. You call it spooning, but you won't deny you went very farwith that young woman--farther, I suspect, than you've told me yet. Eh! isthat true or not?'

He waited a reasonable time for a reply, but none coming, he went on--'Idon't want a forced confidence. You may say it's no business of mine, andthere I agree with you, and probably if you put _me_ to the question inthe same fashion, I'd give you a very short answer. Remember one thing, however, old fellow--I've seen a precious deal more of life and the worldthan you have! From sixteen years of age, when _you_ were hammering away atGreek verbs and some such balderdash at Oxford, I was up at Rangoon withthe very fastest set of men--ay, of women too--I ever lived with in all mylife. Half of our fellows were killed off by it. Of course people will sayclimate, climate! but if I were to give you the history of one day--justtwenty-four hours of our life up there--you'd say that the wonder isthere's any one alive to tell it. '

He turned around at this, to enjoy the expression of horror and surprisehe hoped to have called up, and perceived for the first time that he wasalone. He rang the bell, and asked the waiter where the other gentlemanhad gone, and learned that he had ordered a car, and set out for KilgobbinCastle more than half an hour before. 

'All right, ' said he fiercely. 'I wash my hands of it altogether! I'mheartily glad I told him so before he went. ' He smoked on very vigorouslyfor half an hour, the burden of his thoughts being perhaps revealed bythe summing-up, as he said, 'And when you are "in for it, " Master Cecil, and some precious scrape it will be, if I move hand or foot to pull youthrough it, call me a Major of Marines, that's all--just call me a Major ofMarines!' The ineffable horror of such an imputation served as matter forreverie for hours. 

CHAPTER IX

A DRIVE THROUGH A BOG

While Lockwood continued thus to doubt and debate with himself, Walpole wasalready some miles on his way to Kilgobbin. Not, indeed, that he had madeany remarkable progress, for the 'mare that was to rowle his honour over inan hour and a quarter, ' had to be taken from the field where she had beenploughing since daybreak, while 'the boy' that should drive her, was alittle old man who had to be aroused from a condition of drunkenness in ahayloft, and installed in his office. 

Nor were these the only difficulties. The roads that led through the bogwere so numerous and so completely alike that it only needed the denseatmosphere of a rainy day to make it matter of great difficulty to discoverthe right track. More than once were they obliged to retrace their stepsafter a considerable distance, and the driver's impatience always took theshape of a reproach to Walpole, who, having nothing else to do, shouldsurely have minded where they were going. Now, not only was the travellerutterly ignorant of the geography of the land he journeyed in, but histhoughts were far and away from the scenes around him. Very scatteredand desultory thoughts were they, at one time over the Alps and with'long-agoes': nights at Rome clashing with mornings on the Campagna; vastsalons crowded with people of many nations, all more or less busy with thatgreat traffic which, whether it take the form of religion, or politics, orsocial intrigue, hate, love, or rivalry, makes up what we call 'the world';or there were sunsets dying away rapidly--as they will do--over that greatplain outside the city, whereon solitude and silence are as much masters ason a vast prairie of the West; and he thought of times when he rode back atnightfall beside Nina Kostalergi, when little flashes would cross them ofthat romance that very worldly folk now and then taste of, and delight in, with a zest all the greater that the sensation is so new and strange tothem. Then there was the revulsion from the blaze of waxlights and theglitter of diamonds, the crash of orchestras and the din of conversation, the intoxication of the flattery that champagne only seems to 'accentuate, 'to the unbroken stillness of the hour, when even the footfall of the horseis unheard, and a dreamy doubt that this quietude, this soothing sense ofcalm, is higher happiness than all the glitter and all the splendour of theball-room, and that in the dropping words we now exchange, and in the strayglances, there is a significance and an exquisite delight we never felttill now; for, glorious as is the thought of a returned affection, fullof ecstasy the sense of a heart all, all our own, there is, in the firsthalf-doubtful, distrustful feeling of falling in love, with all its chancesof success or failure, something that has its moments of bliss nothing ofearthly delight can ever equal. To the verge of that possibility Walpolehad reached--but gone no further--with Nina Kostalergi. The young men ofthe age are an eminently calculating and prudent class, and they count thecost of an action with a marvellous amount of accuracy. Is it the turf andits teachings to which this crafty and cold-blooded spirit is owing? Havethey learned to 'square their book' on life by the lessons of Ascot andNewmarket, and seen that, no matter how probably they 'stand to win' onthis, they must provide for that, and that no caution or foresight isenough that will not embrace every casualty of any venture?

There is no need to tell a younger son of the period that he must not marrya pretty girl of doubtful family and no fortune. He may have his doubts onscores of subjects: he may not be quite sure whether he ought to remain aWhig with Lord Russell, or go in for Odgerism and the ballot; he may beuncertain about Colenso, and have his misgivings about the Pentateuch;he may not be easy in his mind about the Russians in the East, or theAmericans in the West; uncomfortable suspicions may cross him that theVolunteers are not as quick in evolution as the Zouaves, or that Englandgenerally does not sing 'Rule Britannia' so lustily as she used to do. Allthese are possible misgivings, but that he should take such a plunge asmatrimony, on other grounds than the perfect prudence and profit of theinvestment, could never occur to him. 

As to the sinfulness of tampering with a girl's affections by what in slangis called 'spooning, ' it was purely absurd to think of it. You might aswell say that playing sixpenny whist made a man a gambler. And then, asto the spooning, it was _partie égale_, the lady was no worse off thanthe gentleman. If there were by any hazard--and this he was disposed todoubt--'affections' at stake, the man 'stood to lose' as much as the woman. But this was not the aspect in which the case presented itself, flirtationbeing, in his idea, to marriage what the preliminary canter is to therace--something to indicate the future, but so dimly and doubtfully as notto decide the hesitation of the waverer. 

If, then, Walpole was never for a moment what mothers call serious in hisattentions to Mademoiselle Kostalergi, he was not the less fond of hersociety; he frequented the places where she was likely to be met with, andpaid her that degree of 'court' that only stopped short of being particularby his natural caution. There was the more need for the exercise of thisquality at Rome, since there were many there who knew of his engagementwith his cousin, Lady Maude, and who would not have hesitated to report onany breach of fidelity. Now, however, all these restraints were withdrawn. They were not in Italy, where London, by a change of venue, takes its'records' to be tried in the dull days of winter. They were in Ireland, and in a remote spot of Ireland, where there were no gossips, no clubs, noafternoon-tea committees, to sit on reputations, and was it not pleasantnow to see this nice girl again in perfect freedom? These were, looselystated, the thoughts which occupied him as he went along, very littledisposed to mind how often the puzzled driver halted to decide the road, orhow frequently he retraced miles of distance. Men of the world, especiallywhen young in life, and more realistic than they will be twenty yearslater, proud of the incredulity they can feel on the score of everythingand everybody, are often fond of making themselves heroes to their ownhearts of some little romance, which shall not cost them dearly to indulgein, and merely engage some loose-lying sympathies without in any wayprejudicing their road in life. They accept of these sentimentalities asthe vicar's wife did the sheep in the picture, pleased to 'have as many asthe painter would put in for nothing. '

Now, Cecil Walpole never intended that this little Irish episode--andepisode he determined it should be--should in any degree affect theserious fortunes of his life. He was engaged to his cousin, Lady MaudeBickerstaffe, and they would be married some day. Not that either was veryimpatient to exchange present comfort--and, on her side, affluence--for amarriage on small means, and no great prospects beyond that. They were notmuch in love. Walpole knew that the Lady Maude's fortune was small, but theman who married her must 'be taken care of, ' and by either side, for therewere as many Tories as Whigs in the family, and Lady Maude knew thathalf-a-dozen years ago, she would certainly not have accepted Walpole; butthat with every year her chances of a better _parti_ were diminishing; and, worse than all this, each was well aware of the inducements by which theother was influenced. Nor did the knowledge in any way detract from theirself-complacence or satisfaction with the match. 

Lady Maude was to accompany her uncle to Ireland, and do the honours of hiscourt, for he was a bachelor, and pleaded hard with his party on that scoreto be let off accepting the viceroyalty. 

Lady Maude, however, had not yet arrived, and even if she had, how shouldshe ever hear of an adventure in the Bog of Allen!

But was there to be an adventure? and, if so, what sort of adventure?Irishmen, Walpole had heard, had all the jealousy about their women thatcharacterises savage races, and were ready to resent what, in civilisedpeople, no one would dream of regarding as matter for umbrage. Well, then, it was only to be more cautious--more on one's guard--besides the tact, too, which a knowledge of life should give--

'Eh, what's this? Why are you stopping here?'

This was addressed now to the driver, who had descended from his box, andwas standing in advance of the horse. 

'Why don't I drive on, is it?' asked he, in a voice of despair. 'Sure, there's no road. '

'And does it stop here?' cried Walpole in horror, for he now perceived thatthe road really came to an abrupt ending in the midst of the bog. 

'Begorra, it's just what it does. Ye see, your honour, ' added he, in aconfidential tone, 'it's one of them tricks the English played us inthe year of the famine. They got two millions of money to make roads inIreland, but they were so afraid it would make us prosperous and richerthan themselves, that they set about making roads that go nowhere. Sometimes to the top of a mountain, or down to the sea, where there was noharbour, and sometimes, like this one, into the heart of a bog. '

'That was very spiteful and very mean, too, ' said Walpole. 

'Wasn't it just mean, and nothing else! and it's five miles we'll have togo back now to the cross-roads. Begorra, your honour, it's a good dhrinkye'll have to give me for this day's work. '

'You forget, my friend, that but for your own confounded stupidity, Ishould have been at Kilgobbin Castle by this time. '

'And ye'll be there yet, with God's help!' said he, turning the horse'shead. 'Bad luck to them for the road-making, and it's a pity, after all, itgoes nowhere, for it's the nicest bit to travel in the whole country. '

'Come now, jump up, old fellow, and make your beast step out. I don't wantto pass the night here. '

'You wouldn't have a dhrop of whisky with your honour?'

'Of course not. '

'Nor even brandy?'

'No, not even brandy. '

'Musha, I'm thinking you must be English, ' muttered he, half sulkily. 

'And if I were, is there any great harm in that?'

'By coorse not; how could ye help it? I suppose we'd all of us be betterif we could. Sit a bit more forward, your honour; the belly band does belifting her, and as you're doing nothing, just give her a welt of thatstick in your hand, now and then, for I lost the lash off my whip, and I'venothing but this!' And he displayed the short handle of what had once beena whip, with a thong of leather dangling at the end. 

'I must say I wasn't aware that I was to have worked my passage, ' saidWalpole, with something between drollery and irritation. 

'She doesn't care for bating--stick her with the end of it. That's the way. We'll get on elegant now. I suppose you was never here before?'

'No; and I think I can promise you I'll not come again. '

'I hope you will, then, and many a time too. This is the Bog of Allenyou're travelling now, and they tell there's not the like of it in thethree kingdoms. '

'I trust there's not!'

'The English, they say, has no bogs. Nothing but coal. '

'Quite true. '

'Erin, _ma bouchal_ you are! first gem of the say! that's what DanO'Connell always called you. Are you gettin' tired with the stick?'

'I'm tired of your wretched old beast, and your car, and yourself, too, 'said Walpole; 'and if I were sure that was the castle yonder, I'd make myway straight to it on foot. '

'And why wouldn't you, if your honour liked it best? Why would ye bebeholden to a car if you'd rather walk. Only mind the bog-holes: forthere's twenty feet of water in some of them, and the sides is so straight, you'll never get out if you fall in. '

'Drive on, then. I'll remain where I am; but don't bother me with yourtalk; and no more questioning. '

'By coorse I won't--why would I? Isn't your honour a gentleman, and haven'tyou a right to say what you plaze; and what am I but a poor boy, earninghis bread. Just the way it is all through the world; some has everythingthey want and more besides, and others hasn't a stitch to their backs, ormaybe a pinch of tobacco to put in a pipe. '

This appeal was timed by seeing that Walpole had just lighted a freshcigar, whose fragrant fumes were wafted across the speaker's nose. 

Firm to his determination to maintain silence, Walpole paid no attentionto the speech, nor uttered a word of any kind; and as a light drizzlingrain had now begun to fall, and obliged him to shelter himself under anumbrella, he was at length saved from his companion's loquacity. Baffled, but not beaten, the old fellow began to sing, at first in a low, droningtone; but growing louder as the fire of patriotism warmed him, he shouted, to a very wild and somewhat irregular tune, a ballad, of which Walpolecould not but hear the words occasionally, while the tramping of thefellow's feet on the foot-board kept time to his song:--

 ''Tis our fun they can't forgive us, Nor our wit so sharp and keen; But there's nothing that provokes them Like our wearin' of the green. They thought Poverty would bate us, But we'd sell our last "boneen" And we'll live on cowld paytatees, All for wearin' of the green. Oh, the wearin' of the green--the wearin' of the green! 'Tis the colour best becomes us Is the wearin' of the green!'

'Here's a cigar for you, old fellow, and stop that infernal chant. '

'There's only five verses more, and I'll sing them for your honour before Ilight the baccy. '

'If you do, then, you shall never light baccy of mine. Can't you see thatyour confounded song is driving me mad?'

'Faix, ye're the first I ever see disliked music, ' muttered he, in a tonealmost compassionate. 

And now as Walpole raised the collar of his coat to defend his ears, andprepared, as well as he might, to resist the weather, he muttered, 'Andthis is the beautiful land of scenery; and this the climate; and this theamusing and witty peasant we read of. I have half a mind to tell the worldhow it has been humbugged!' And thus musing, he jogged on the weary road, nor raised his head till the heavy clash of an iron gate aroused him, andhe saw that they were driving along an approach, with some clumps of prettybut young timber on either side. 

'Here we are, your honour, safe and sound, ' cried the driver, as proudlyas if he had not been five hours over what should have been done in oneand a half. 'This is Kilgobbin. All the ould trees was cut down by OliverCromwell, they say, but there will be a fine wood here yet. That's thecastle you see yonder, over them trees; but there's no flag flying. Thelord's away. I suppose I'll have to wait for your honour? You'll be comingback with me?'

'Yes, you'll have to wait. ' And Walpole looked at his watch, and saw it wasalready past five o'clock. 

CHAPTER X

THE SEARCH FOR ARMS

When the hour of luncheon came, and no guests made their appearance, theyoung girls at the castle began to discuss what they should best do. 'Iknow nothing of fine people and their ways, ' said Kate--'you must take thewhole direction here, Nina. '

'It is only a question of time, and a cold luncheon can wait withoutdifficulty. '

And so they waited till three, then till four, and now it was five o'clock;when Kate, who had been over the kitchen-garden, and the calves' paddock, and inspecting a small tract laid out for a nursery, came back to the housevery tired, and, as she said, also very hungry. 'You know, Nina, ' said she, entering the room, 'I ordered no dinner to-day. I speculated on our makingour dinner when your friends lunched; and as they have not lunched, wehave not dined; and I vote we sit down now. I'm afraid I shall not be aspleasant company as that Mr. --do tell me his name--Walpole--but I pledgemyself to have as good a appetite. '

Nina made no answer. She stood at the open window; her gaze steadily benton the strip of narrow road that traversed the wide moor before her. 

'Ain't you hungry? I mean, ain't you famished, child?' asked Kate. 

'No, I don't think so. I could eat, but I believe I could go without eatingjust as well. '

'Well, I must dine; and if you were not looking so nice and fresh, with arose-bud in your hair and your white dress so daintily looped up, I'd askleave not to dress. '

'If you were to smooth your hair, and, perhaps, change your boots--'

'Oh I know, and become in every respect a little civilised. My poor dearcousin, what a mission you have undertaken among the savages. Own ithonestly, you never guessed the task that was before you when you camehere. '

'Oh, it's very nice savagery, all the same, ' said the other, smilingpleasantly. 

'There now!' cried Kate, as she threw her hat to one side, and stoodarranging her hair before the glass. 'I make this toilet under protest, forwe are going in to luncheon, not dinner, and all the world knows, and allthe illustrated newspapers show, that people do not dress for lunch. And, by the way, that is something you have not got in Italy. All the womengathering together in their garden-bonnets and their morning-muslins, andthe men in their knickerbockers and their coarse tweed coats. '

'I declare I think you are in better spirits since you see these people arenot coming. '

'It is true. You have guessed it, dearest. The thought of anythinggrand--as a visitor; anything that would for a moment suggest theunpleasant question, Is this right? or, Is that usual? makes me downrightirritable. Come, are you ready? May I offer you my arm?'

And now they were at table, Kate rattling away in unwonted gaiety, andtrying to rally Nina out of her disappointment. 

'I declare Nina, everything is so pretty I am ashamed to eat. Thosechickens near you are the least ornamental things I see. Cut me off a wing. Oh, I forgot, you never acquired the barbarous art of carving. '

'I can cut this, ' said Nina, drawing a dish of tongue towards her. 

'What! that marvellous production like a parterre of flowers? It would bedownright profanation to destroy it. '

'Then shall I give you some of this, Kate?'

'Why, child, that is strawberry-cream. But I cannot eat all alone; do helpyourself. '

'I shall take something by-and-by. '

'What do young ladies in Italy eat when they are--no, I don't mean inlove--I shall call it--in despair?'

'Give me some of that white wine beside you. There! don't you hear a noise?I'm certain I heard the sound of wheels. '

'Most sincerely I trust not. I wouldn't for anything these people shouldbreak in upon us now. If my brother Dick should drop in I'd welcome him, and he would make our little party perfect. Do you know, Nina, Dick can beso jolly. What's that? there are voices there without. '

As she spoke the door was opened, and Walpole entered. The young girlshad but time to rise from their seats, when--they never could exactly sayhow--they found themselves shaking hands with him in great cordiality. 

'And your friend--where is he?'

'Nursing a sore throat, or a sprained ankle, or a something or other. ShallI confess it--as only a suspicion on my part, however--that I do believehe was too much shocked at the outrageous liberty I took in asking to beadmitted here to accept any partnership in the impertinence?'

'We expected you at two or three o'clock, ' said Nina. 

'And shall I tell you why I was not here before? Perhaps you'll scarcelycredit me when I say I have been five hours on the road. '

'Five hours! How did you manage that?'

'In this way. I started a few minutes after twelve from the inn--I onfoot, the car to overtake me. ' And he went on to give a narrative of hiswanderings over the bog, imitating, as well as he could, the driver'sconversations with him, and the reproaches he vented on his inattention tothe road. Kate enjoyed the story with all the humoristic fun of one whoknew thoroughly how the peasant had been playing with the gentleman, justfor the indulgence of that strange, sarcastic temper that underlies theIrish nature; and she could fancy how much more droll it would have been tohave heard the narrative as told by the driver of the car. 

'And don't you like his song, Mr. Walpole!'

'What, "The Wearing of the Green"? It was the dreariest dirge I everlistened to. '

'Come, you shall not say so. When we go into the drawing-room, Nina shallsing it for you, and I'll wager you recant your opinion. '

'And do you sing rebel canticles, Mademoiselle Kostalergi?'

'Yes, I do all my cousin bids me. I wear a red cloak. How is it called?'

'Connemara?'

Nina nodded. 

'That's the name, but I'm not going to say it; and when we go abroad--thatis, on the bog there, for a walk--we dress in green petticoats and wearvery thick shoes. '

'And, in a word, are very generally barbarous. '

'Well, if you be really barbarians, ' said Walpole, filling his glass, 'Iwonder what I would not give to be allowed to join the tribe. '

'Oh, you'd want to be a sachem, or a chief, or a mystery-man at least; andwe couldn't permit that, ' cried Kate. 

'No; I crave admission as the humblest of your followers. '

'Shall we put him to the test, Nina?'

'How do you mean?' cried the other. 

'Make him take a Ribbon oath, or the pledge of a United Irishman. I'vecopies of both in papa's study. '

'I should like to see these immensely, ' said Walpole. 

'I'll see if I can't find them, ' cried Kate, rising and hastening away. 

For some seconds after she left the room there was perfect silence. Walpoletried to catch Nina's eye before he spoke, but she continued steadily tolook down, and did not once raise her lids. 

'Is she not very nice--is she not very beautiful?' asked she, in a lowvoice. 

'It is of _you_ I want to speak. '

And he drew his chair closer to her, and tried to take her hand, but shewithdrew it quickly, and moved slightly away. 

'If you knew the delight it is to me to see you again, Nina--well, Mademoiselle Kostalergi. Must it be Mademoiselle?'

'I don't remember it was ever "Nina, "' said she coldly. 

'Perhaps only in my thoughts. To my heart, I can swear, you were Nina. Buttell me how you came here, and when, and for how long, for I want to knowall. Speak to me, I beseech you. She'll be back in a moment, and when shallI have another instant alone with you like this? Tell me how you cameamongst them, and are they really all rebels?'

Kate entered at the instant, saying, 'I can't find it, but I'll have a goodsearch to-morrow, for I know it's there. '

'Do, by all means, Kate, for Mr. Walpole is very anxious to learn if he beadmitted legitimately into this brotherhood--whatever it be; he has justasked me if we were really all rebels here. '

'I trust he does not suppose I would deceive him, ' said Kate gravely. 'Andwhen he hears you sing "The blackened hearth--the fallen roof, " he'll notquestion _you_, Nina. --Do you know that song, Mr. Walpole?'

He smiled as he said 'No. '

'Won't it be so nice, ' said she, 'to catch a fresh ingenuous Saxonwandering innocently over the Bog of Allen, and send him back to hisfriends a Fenian!'

'Make me what you please, but don't send me away. '

'Tell me, really, what would you do if we made you take the oath?'

'Betray you, of course, the moment I got up to Dublin. '

Nina's eyes flashed angrily, as though such jesting was an offence. 

'No, no, the shame of such treason would be intolerable; but you'd go yourway and behave as though you never saw us. '

'Oh, he could do that without the inducement of a perjury, ' said Nina, inItalian; and then added aloud, 'Let's go and make some music. Mr. Walpolesings charmingly, Kate, and is very obliging about it--at least he used tobe. '

[Illustration: 'How that song makes me wish we were back again where Iheard it first']

'I am all that I used to be--towards that, ' whispered he, as she passed himto take Kate's arm and walk away. 

'You don't mean to have a thick neighbourhood about you, ' said Walpole. 'Have you any people living near?'

'Yes, we have a dear old friend--a Miss O'Shea, a maiden lady, who lives afew miles off. By the way, there's something to show you--an old maid whohunts her own harriers. '

'What! are you in earnest?'

'On my word, it is true! Nina can't endure her; but Nina doesn't care forhare-hunting, and, I'm afraid to say, never saw a badger drawn in herlife. '

'And have you?' asked he, almost with horror in his tone. 

'I'll show you three regular little turnspit dogs to-morrow that willanswer that question. '

'How I wish Lockwood had come out here with me, ' said Walpole, almostuttering a thought. 

'That is, you wish he had seen a bit of barbarous Ireland he'd scarcelycredit from mere description. But perhaps I'd have been better behavedbefore him. I'm treating you with all the freedom of an old friend of mycousin's. '

Nina had meanwhile opened the piano, and was letting her hands stray overthe instrument in occasional chords; and then in a low voice, that barelyblended its tones with the accompaniment, she sang one of those littlepopular songs of Italy, called 'Stornelli'---wild, fanciful melodies, withthat blended gaiety and sadness which the songs of a people are so oftenmarked by. 

'That is a very old favourite of mine, ' said Walpole, approaching the pianoas noiselessly as though he feared to disturb the singer; and now he stoleinto a chair at her side. 'How that song makes me wish we were back again, where I heard it first, ' whispered he gently. 

'I forget where that was, ' said she carelessly. 

'No, Nina, you do not, ' said he eagerly; 'it was at Albano, the day we allwent to Pallavicini's villa. '

'And I sang a little French song, "_Si vous n'avez rien à me dire_, " whichyou were vain enough to imagine was a question addressed to yourself; andyou made me a sort of declaration; do you remember all that?'

'Every word of it. '

'Why don't you go and speak to my cousin; she has opened the window andgone out upon the terrace, and I trust you understand that she expects youto follow her. ' There was a studied calm in the way she spoke that showedshe was exerting considerable self-control. 

'No, no, Nina, it is with you I desire to speak; to see you that I havecome here. '

'And so you do remember that you made me a declaration? It made me laughafterwards as I thought it over. '

'Made you laugh!'

'Yes, I laughed to myself at the ingenious way in which you conveyed to mewhat an imprudence it was in you to fall in love with a girl who had nofortune, and the shock it would give your friends when they should hear shewas a Greek. '

'How can you say such painful things, Nina? how can you be so pitiless asthis?'

'It was you who had no pity, sir; I felt a deal of pity; I will not deny itwas for myself. I don't pretend to say that I could give a correct versionof the way in which you conveyed to me the pain it gave you that I was nota princess, a Borromeo, or a Colonna, or an Altieri. That Greek adventurer, yes--you cannot deny it, I overheard these words myself. You were talkingto an English girl, a tall, rather handsome person she was--I shallremember her name in a moment if you cannot help me to it sooner--a LadyBickerstaffe--'

'Yes, there was a Lady Maude Bickerstaffe; she merely passed through Romefor Naples. '

'You called her a cousin, I remember. '

'There is some cousinship between us; I forget exactly in what degree. '

'Do try and remember a little more; remember that you forgot you hadengaged me for the cotillon, and drove away with that blonde beauty--andshe was a beauty, or had been a few years before--at all events, you lostall memory of the daughter of the adventurer. '

'You will drive me distracted, Nina, if you say such things. '

'I know it is wrong and it is cruel, and it is worse than wrong and cruel, it is what you English call underbred, to be so individually disagreeable, but this grievance of mine has been weighing very heavily on my heart, andI have been longing to tell you so. '

'Why are you not singing, Nina?' cried Kate from the terrace. 'You told meof a duet, and I think you are bent on having it without music. '

'Yes, we are quarrelling fiercely, ' said Nina. 'This gentleman has beenrash enough to remind me of an unsettled score between us, and as he is thedefaulter--'

'I dispute the debt. '

'Shall I be the judge between you?' asked Kate. 

'On no account; my claim once disputed, I surrender it, ' said Nina. 

'I must say you are very charming company. You won't sing, and you'll onlytalk to say disagreeable things. Shall I make tea, and see if it willrender you more amiable?'

'Do so, dearest, and then show Mr. Walpole the house; he has forgotten whatbrought him here, I really believe. '

'You know that I have not, ' muttered he, in a tone of deep meaning. 

'There's no light now to show him the house; Mr. Walpole must cometo-morrow, when papa will be at home and delighted to see him. '

'May I really do this?'

'Perhaps, besides, your friend will have found the little inn soinsupportable, that he too will join us. Listen to that sigh of poor Nina'sand you'll understand what it is to be dreary!'

'No; I want my tea. '

'And it shall have it, ' said Kate, kissing her with a petting affectationas she left the room. 

'Now one word, only one, ' said Walpole, as he drew his chair close to her:'If I swear to you--'

'What's that? who is Kate angry with?' cried Nina, rising and rushingtowards the door. 'What has happened?'

'I'll tell you what has happened, ' said Kate, as with flashing eyes andheightened colour she entered the room. 'The large gate of the outer yard, that is every night locked and strongly barred at sunset, has been leftopen, and they tell me that three men have come in, Sally says five, andare hiding in some of the outhouses. '

'What for? Is it to rob, think you?' asked Walpole. 

'It is certainly for nothing good. They all know that papa is away, andthe house so far unprotected, ' continued Kate calmly. 'We must find outto-morrow who has left the gate unbolted. This was no accident, and nowthat they are setting fire to the ricks all round us, it is no time forcarelessness. '

'Shall we search the offices and the outbuildings?' asked Walpole. 

'Of course not; we must stand by the house and take care that they do notenter it. It's a strong old place, and even if they forced an entrancebelow, they couldn't set fire to it. '

'Could they force their way up?' asked Walpole. 

'Not if the people above have any courage. Just come and look at the stair;it was made in times when people thought of defending themselves. ' Theyissued forth now together to the top of the landing, where a narrow, steepflight of stone steps descended between two walls to the basement-storey. A little more than half-way down was a low iron gate or grille ofconsiderable strength; though, not being above four feet in height, itcould have been no great defence, which seemed, after all, to have been itsintention. 'When this is closed, ' said Kate, shutting it with a heavy bang, 'it's not such easy work to pass up against two or three resolute people atthe top; and see here, ' added she, showing a deep niche or alcove in thewall, 'this was evidently meant for the sentry who watched the wicket: hecould stand here out of the reach of all fire. '

'Would you not say she was longing for a conflict?' said Nina, gazing ather. 

'No, but if it comes I'll not decline it. '

'You mean you'll defend the stair?' asked Walpole. 

She nodded assent. 

'What arms have you?'

'Plenty; come and look at them. Here, ' said she, entering the dining-room, and pointing to a large oak sideboard covered with weapons, 'Here isprobably what has led these people here. They are going through the countrylatterly on every side, in search of arms. I believe this is almost theonly house where they have not called. '

'And do they go away quietly when their demands are complied with?'

'Yes, when they chance upon people of poor courage, they leave them withlife enough to tell the story. --What is it, Mathew?' asked she of the oldserving-man who entered the room. 

'It's the "boys, " miss, and they want to talk to you, if you'll step out onthe terrace. They don't mean any harm at all. '

'What do they want, then?'

'Just a spare gun or two, miss, or an ould pistol, or a thing of the kindthat was no use. '

'Was it not brave of them to come here, when my father was from home?Aren't they fine courageous creatures to come and frighten two lonegirls--eh, Mat?'

'Don't anger them, miss, for the love of Joseph! don't say anything hard;let me hand them that ould carbine there, and the fowling-piece; and ifyou'd give them a pair of horse-pistols, I'm sure they'd go away quiet. '

A loud noise of knocking, as though with a stone, at the outer door, brokein upon the colloquy, and Kate passed into the drawing-room, and openedthe window, out upon the stone terrace which overlooked the yard: 'Who isthere?--who are you?--what do you want?' cried she, peering down into thedarkness, which, in the shadow of the house, was deeper. 

'We've come for arms, ' cried a deep hoarse voice. 

'My father is away from home--come and ask for them when he's here toanswer you. '

A wild, insolent laugh from below acknowledged what they thought of thisspeech. 

'Maybe that was the rayson we came now, miss, ' said a voice, in a lightertone. 

'Fine courageous fellows you are to say so! I hope Ireland has more of suchbrave patriotic men. '

'You'd better leave that, anyhow, ' said another, and as he spoke helevelled and fired, but evidently with intention to terrify rather thanwound, for the plaster came tumbling down from several feet above her head;and now the knocking at the door was redoubled, and with a noise thatresounded through the house. 

'Wouldn't you advise her to give up the arms and let them go?' said Nina, in a whisper to Walpole; but though she was deadly pale there was no tremorin her voice. 

'The door is giving way, the wood is completely rotten. Now for the stairs. Mr. Walpole, you're going to stand by me?'

'I should think so, but I'd rather you'd remain here. I know my groundnow. '

'No, I must be beside you. You'll have to keep a rolling fire, and I canload quicker than most people. Come along now, we must take no light withus--follow me. '

'Take care, ' said Nina to Walpole as he passed, but with an accent so fullof a strange significance it dwelt on his memory long after. 

'What was it Nina whispered you as you came by?' said Kate. 

'Something about being cautious, I think, ' said he carelessly. 

'Stay where you are, Mathew, ' said the girl, in a severe tone, to the oldservant, who was officiously pressing forward with a light. 

'Go back!' cried she, as he persisted in following her. 

'That's the worst of all our troubles here, Mr. Walpole, ' said she boldly;'you cannot depend on the people of your own household. The very people youhave nursed in sickness, if they only belong to some secret association, will betray you!' She made no secret of her words, but spoke them loudenough to be heard by the group of servants now gathered on the landing. Noiseless she tripped down the stairs, and passed into the little darkalcove, followed by Walpole, carrying any amount of guns and carbines underhis arm. 

'These are loaded, I presume?' said he. 

'All, and ready capped. The short carbine is charged with a sort ofcanister shot, and keep it for a short range--if they try to pass overthe iron gate. Now mind me, and I will give you the directions I heard myfather give on this spot once before. Don't fire till they reach the footof the stair. '

'I cannot hear you, ' said he, for the din beneath, where they battered atthe door, was now deafening. 

'They'll be in in another moment--there, the lock has fallen off--the doorhas given way, ' whispered she; 'be steady now, no hurry--steady and calm. '

As she spoke, the heavy oak door fell to the ground, and a perfect silencesucceeded to the late din. After an instant, muttering whispers could beheard, and it seemed as if they doubted how far it was safe to enter, forall was dark within. Something was said in a tone of command, and at themoment one of the party flung forward a bundle of lighted straw and tow, which fell at the foot of the stairs, and for a few seconds lit up theplace with a red lurid gleam, showing the steep stair and the iron bars ofthe little gate that crossed it. 

'There's the iron wicket they spoke of, ' cried one. 'All right, come on!'And the speaker led the way, cautiously, however, and slowly, the othersafter him. 

'No, not yet, ' whispered Kate, as she pressed her hand upon Walpole's. 

'I hear voices up there, ' cried the leader from below. 'We'll make themleave that, anyhow. ' And he fired off his gun in the direction of the upperpart of the stair; a quantity of plaster came clattering down as the ballstruck the ceiling. 

'Now, ' said she. 'Now, and fire low!'

He discharged both barrels so rapidly that the two detonations blendedinto one, and the assailants replied by a volley, the echoing din almostsounding like artillery. Fast as Walpole could fire, the girl replacedthe piece by another; when suddenly she cried, 'There is a fellow at thegate--the carbine--the carbine now, and steady. ' A heavy crash and a cryfollowed his discharge, and snatching the weapon from him, she reloaded andhanded it back with lightning speed. 'There is another there, ' whisperedshe; and Walpole moved farther out, to take a steadier aim. All was still, not a sound to be heard for some seconds, when the hinges of the gatecreaked and the bolt shook in the lock. Walpole fired again, but as he didso, the others poured in a rattling volley, one shot grazing his cheek, and another smashing both bones of his right arm, so that the carbine fellpowerless from his hand. The intrepid girl sprang to his side at once, andthen passing in front of him, she fired some shots from a revolver in quicksuccession. A low, confused sound of feet and a scuffling noise followed, when a rough, hoarse voice cried out, 'Stop firing; we are wounded, andgoing away. '

'Are you badly hurt?' whispered Kate to Walpole. 

'Nothing serious: be still and listen!'

'There, the carbine is ready again. Oh, you cannot hold it--leave it tome, ' said she. 

From the difficulty of removal, it seemed as though one of the partybeneath was either killed or badly wounded, for it was several minutesbefore they could gain the outer door. 

'Are they really retiring?' whispered Walpole. 

'Yes; they seem to have suffered heavily. '

'Would you not give them one shot at parting--that carbine is charged?'asked he anxiously. 

'Not for worlds, ' said she; 'savage as they are, it would be ruin to breakfaith with them. '

'Give me a pistol, my left hand is all right. ' Though he tried to speakwith calmness, the agony of pain he was suffering so overcame him that heleaned his head down, and rested it on her shoulder. 

'My poor, poor fellow, ' said she tenderly, 'I would not for the world thatthis had happened. '

'They're gone, Miss Kate, they've passed out at the big gate, and they'reoff, ' whispered old Mathew, as he stood trembling behind her. 

'Here, call some one, and help this gentleman up the stairs, and get amattress down on the floor at once; send off a messenger, Sally, for DoctorTobin. He can take the car that came this evening, and let him make whathaste he can. '

'Is he wounded?' said Nina, as they laid him down on the floor. Walpoletried to smile and say something, but no sound came forth. 

'My own dear, dear Cecil, ' whispered Nina, as she knelt and kissed hishand, 'tell me it is not dangerous. ' He had fainted. 

CHAPTER XI

WHAT THE PAPERS SAID OF IT

The wounded man had just fallen into a first sleep after his disaster, whenthe press of the capital was already proclaiming throughout the land theattack and search for arms at Kilgobbin Castle. In the National papers avery few lines were devoted to the event; indeed, their tone was one ofparty sneer at the importance given by their contemporaries to a veryordinary incident. 'Is there, ' asked the _Convicted Felon_, 'anything verystrange or new in the fact that Irishmen have determined to be armed? IsEnglish legislation in this country so marked by justice, clemency, andgenerosity that the people of Ireland prefer to submit their lives andfortunes to its sway, to trusting what brave men alone trust in--theirfearlessness and their daring? What is there, then, so remarkable in therepairing to Mr. Kearney's house for a loan of those weapons of which hisfamily for several generations have forgotten the use?' In the Governmentjournals the story of the attack was headed, 'Attack on Kilgobbin Castle. Heroic resistance by a young lady'; in which Kate Kearney's conduct wasdescribed in colours of extravagant eulogy. She was alternately Joan of Arcand the Maid of Saragossa, and it was gravely discussed whether any andwhat honours of the Crown were at Her Majesty's disposal to reward suchbrilliant heroism. In another print of the same stamp the narrative began:'The disastrous condition of our country is never displayed in darkercolours than when the totally unprovoked character of some outrage hasto be recorded by the press. It is our melancholy task to present such acase as this to our readers to-day. If it was our wish to exhibit to astranger the picture of an Irish estate in which all the blessings of goodmanagement, intelligence, kindliness, and Christian charity were displayed;to show him a property where the wellbeing of landlord and tenant wereinextricably united, where the condition of the people, their dress, theirhomes, their food, and their daily comforts, could stand comparison withthe most favoured English county, we should point to the Kearney estateof Kilgobbin; and yet it is here, in the very house where his ancestorshave resided for generations, that a most savage and dastardly attack ismade; and if we feel a sense of shame in recording the outrage, we arerecompensed by the proud elation with which we can recount the repulse--thenoble and gallant achievement of an Irish girl. History has the record ofmore momentous feats, but we doubt that there is one in the annals of anyland in which a higher heroism was displayed than in this splendid defenceby Miss Kearney. ' Then followed the story; not one of the papers having anyknowledge of Walpole's presence on the occasion, or the slightest suspicionthat she was aided in any way. 

Joe Atlee was busily engaged in conning over and comparing these somewhatcontradictory reports, as he sat at his breakfast, his chum Kearney beingstill in bed and asleep after a late night at a ball. At last there came atelegraphic despatch for Kearney; armed with which, Joe entered the bedroomand woke him. 

'Here's something for you, Dick, ' cried he. 'Are you too sleepy to readit?'

'Tear it open and see what it is, like a good fellow, ' said the otherindolently. 

'It's from your sister--at least, it is signed Kate. It says: "There is nocause for alarm. All is going on well, and papa will be back this evening. I write by this post. "'

'What does all that mean?' cried Dick, in surprise. 

'The whole story is in the papers. The boys have taken the opportunity ofyour father's absence from home to make a demand for arms at your house, and your sister, it seems, showed fight and beat them off. They talk of twofellows being seen badly wounded, but, of course, that part of the storycannot be relied on. That they got enough to make them beat a retreat is, however, certain; and as they were what is called a strong party, the featof resisting them is no small glory for a young lady. '

'It was just what Kate was certain to do. There's no man with a braverheart. '

I wonder how the beautiful Greek behaved? I should like greatly to hearwhat part she took in the defence of the citadel. Was she fainting or inhysterics, or so overcome by terror as to be unconscious?'

'I'll make you any wager you like, Kate did the whole thing herself. Therewas a Whiteboy attack to force the stairs when she was a child, and Isuppose we rehearsed that combat fully fifty--ay, five hundred times. Katealways took the defence, and though we were sometimes four to one, she keptus back. '

'By Jove! I think I should be afraid of such a young lady. '

'So you would. She has more pluck in her heart than half that blessedprovince you come from. That's the blood of the old stock you are oftenpleased to sneer at, and of which the present will be a lesson to teach youbetter. '

'May not the lovely Greek be descended from some ancient stock too? Who isto say what blood of Pericles she had not in her veins? I tell you I'll notgive up the notion that she was a sharer in this glory. '

'If you've got the papers with the account, let me see them, Joe. I've halfa mind to run down by the night-mail--that is, if I can. Have you got anytin, Atlee?'

'There were some shillings in one of my pockets last night. How much do youwant?'

'Eighteen-and-six first class, and a few shillings for a cab. '

'I can manage that; but I'll go and fetch you the papers, there's timeenough to talk of the journey. '

The newsman had just deposited the _Croppy_ on the table as Joe returnedto the breakfast-table, and the story of Kilgobbin headed the first columnin large capitals. 'While our contemporaries, ' it began, 'are recountingwith more than their wonted eloquence the injuries inflicted on three poorlabouring men, who, in their ignorance of the locality, had the temerity toask for alms at Kilgobbin Castle yesterday evening, and were ignominiouslydriven away from the door by a young lady, whose benevolence wasadministered through a blunderbuss, we, who form no portion of the politepress, and have no pretension to mix in what are euphuistically called the"best circles" of this capital, would like to ask, for the information ofthose humble classes among which our readers are found, is it the customfor young ladies to await the absence of their fathers to entertainyoung gentlemen tourists? and is a reputation for even heroic couragenot somewhat dearly purchased at the price of the companionship of theadmittedly most profligate man of a vicious and corrupt society? Theheroine who defended Kilgobbin can reply to our query. '

Joe Atlee read this paragraph three times over before he carried in thepaper to Kearney. 

'Here's an insolent paragraph, Dick, ' he cried, as he threw the paper tohim on the bed. 'Of course it's a thing cannot be noticed in any way, butit's not the less rascally for that. '

'You know the fellow who edits this paper, Joe?' said Kearney, tremblingwith passion. 

'No; my friend is doing his bit of oakum at Kilmainham. They gave himthirteen months, and a fine that he'll never be able to pay; but what wouldyou do if the fellow who wrote it were in the next room at this moment?'

'Thrash him within an inch of his life. '

'And, with the inch of life left him, he'd get strong again and write atyou and all belonging to you every day of his existence. Don't you seethat all this license is one of the prices of liberty? There's no guardingagainst excesses when you establish a rivalry. The doctors could tell youhow many diseased lungs and aneurisms are made by training for a rowingmatch. '

'I'll go down by the mail to-night and see what has given the origin tothis scandalous falsehood. '

'There's no harm in doing that, especially if you take me with you. '

'Why should I take you, or for what?'

'As guide, counsellor, and friend. '

'Bright thought, when all the money we can muster between us is only enoughfor one fare. '

'Doubtless, first class; but we could go third class, two of us for thesame money. Do you imagine that Damon and Pythias would have been separatedif it came even to travelling in a cow compartment?'

'I wish you could see that there are circumstances in life where the comicman is out of place. '

'I trust I shall never discover them; at least, so long as Fate treats mewith "heavy tragedy. "'

'I'm not exactly sure, either, whether they 'd like to receive you just nowat Kilgobbin. '

'Inhospitable thought! My heart assures me of a most cordial welcome. '

'And I should only stay a day or two at farthest. '

'Which would suit me to perfection. I must be back here by Tuesday if I hadto walk the distance. '

'Not at all improbable, so far as I know of your resources. '

'What a churlish dog it is! Now had you, Master Dick, proposed to me thatwe should go down and pass a week at a certain small thatched cottageon the banks of the Ban, where a Presbyterian minister with eight olivebranches vegetates, discussing tough mutton and tougher theology onSundays, and getting through the rest of the week with the parables andpotatoes, I'd have said, Done!'

'It was the inopportune time I was thinking of. Who knows what confusionthis event may not have thrown them into? If you like to risk thediscomfort, I make no objection. '

'To so heartily expressed an invitation there can be but one answer, Iyield. '

'Now look here, Joe, I'd better be frank with you: don't try it on atKilgobbin as you do with me. '

'You are afraid of my insinuating manners, are you?'

'I am afraid of your confounded impudence, and of that notion you cannotget rid of, that your cool familiarity is a fashionable tone. '

'How men mistake themselves. I pledge you my word, if I was asked what wasthe great blemish in my manner, I'd have said it was bashfulness. '

'Well, then, it is not!'

'Are you sure, Dick, are you quite sure?'

'I am quite sure, and unfortunately for you, you'll find that the majorityagree with me. '

'"A wise man should guard himself against the defects that he might have, without knowing it. " That is a Persian proverb, which you will find in_Hafiz_. I believe you never read _Hafiz_!'

'No, nor you either. '

'That's true; but I can make my own _Hafiz_, and just as good as the realarticle. By the way, are you aware that the water-carriers at Tehran sing_Lalla Rookh_, and believe it a national poem?'

'I don't know, and I don't care. '

'I'll bring down an _Anacreon_ with me, and see if the Greek cousin canspell her way through an ode. '

'And I distinctly declare you shall do no such thing. '

'Oh dear, oh dear, what an unamiable trait is envy! By the way, was thatyour frock-coat I wore yesterday at the races?'

'I think you know it was; at least you remembered it when you tore thesleeve. '

'True, most true; that torn sleeve was the reason the rascal would only letme have fifteen shillings on it. '

'And you mean to say you pawned my coat?'

'I left it in the temporary care of a relative, Dick; but it is aredeemable mortgage, and don't fret about it. '

'Ever the same!'

'No, Dick, that means worse and worse! Now, I am in the process ofreformation. The natural selection, however, where honesty is in theseries, is a slow proceeding, and the organic changes are very complicated. As I know, however, you attach value to the effect you produce in thatcoat, I'll go and recover it. I shall not need Terence or Juvenal till wecome back, and I'll leave them in the avuncular hands till then. '

'I wonder you're not ashamed of these miserable straits. '

'I am very much ashamed of the world that imposes them on me. I'mthoroughly ashamed of that public in lacquered leather, that seesme walking in broken boots. I'm heartily ashamed of that well-fed, well-dressed, sleek society, that never so much as asked whether theintellectual-looking man in the shabby hat, who looked so lovingly at thespiced beef in the window, had dined yet, or was he fasting for a wager?'

'There, don't carry away that newspaper; I want to read over that pleasantparagraph again!'

CHAPTER XII

THE JOURNEY TO THE COUNTRY

The two friends were deposited at the Moate station at a few minutes aftermidnight, and their available resources amounting to something short of twoshillings, and the fare of a car and horse to Kilgobbin being more thanthree times that amount, they decided to devote their small balance topurposes of refreshment, and then set out for the castle on foot. 

'It is a fine moonlight; I know all the short cuts, and I want a bit ofwalking besides, ' said Kearney; and though Joe was of a self-indulgenttemperament, and would like to have gone to bed after his supper andtrusted to the chapter of accidents to reach Kilgobbin by a conveyance sometime, any time, he had to yield his consent and set out on the road. 

'The fellow who comes with the letter-bag will fetch over our portmanteau, 'said Dick, as they started. 

'I wish you'd give him directions to take charge of me, too, ' said Joe, whofelt very indisposed to a long walk. 

'I like _you_, ' said Dick sneeringly; 'you are always telling me that youare the sort of fellow for a new colony, life in the bush, and the restof it, and when it conies to a question of a few miles' tramp on a brightnight in June, you try to skulk it in every possible way. You're a greathumbug, Master Joe. '

'And you a very small humbug, and there lies the difference between us. The combinations in your mind are so few, that, as in a game of only threecards, there is no skill in the playing; while in my nature, as in thatgame called tarocco, there are half-a-dozen packs mixed up together, andthe address required to play them is considerable. '

'You have a very satisfactory estimate of your own abilities, Joe. '

'And why not? If a clever fellow didn't know he was clever, the opinion ofthe world on his superiority would probably turn his brain. '

'And what do you say if his own vanity should do it?'

'There is really no way of explaining to a fellow like you--'

'What do you mean by a fellow like me?' broke in Dick, somewhat angrily. 

'I mean this, that I'd as soon set to work to explain the theory ofexchequer bonds to an Eskimo, as to make an unimaginative man understandsomething purely speculative. What you, and scores of fellows like you, denominate vanity, is only another form of hopefulness. You and yourbrethren--for you are a large family--do you know what it is to Hope! thatis, you have no idea of what it is to build on the foundation of certainqualities you recognise in yourself, and to say that "if I can go so farwith such a gift, such another will help me on so much farther. "'

'I tell you one thing I do hope, which is, that the next time I set outa twelve miles' walk, I'll have a companion less imbued withself-admiration. '

'And you might and might not find him pleasanter company. Cannot you see, old fellow, that the very things you object to in me are what are wantingin you? they are, so to say, the compliments of your own temperament. '

'Have you a cigar?'

'Two--take them both. I'd rather talk than smoke just now. '

'I am almost sorry for it, though it gives me the tobacco. '

'Are we on your father's property yet?'

'Yes; part of that village we came through belongs to us, and all this boghere is ours. '

'Why don't you reclaim it? labour costs a mere nothing in this country. Why don't you drain those tracts, and treat the soil with lime? I'd liveon potatoes, I'd make my family live on potatoes, and my son, and mygrandson, for three generations, but I'd win this land back to culture andproductiveness. '

'The fee-simple of the soil wouldn't pay the cost. It would be cheaper tosave the money and buy an estate. '

'That is one, and a very narrow view of it; but imagine the glory ofrestoring a lost tract to a nation, welcoming back the prodigal, andinstalling him in his place amongst his brethren. This was all forest once. Under the shade of the mighty oaks here those gallant O'Caharneys yourancestors followed the chase, or rested at noontide, or skedaddled indouble-quick before those smart English of the Pale, who I must say treatedyour forbears with scant courtesy. '

'We held our own against them for many a year. '

'Only when it became so small it was not worth taking. Is not your father aWhig?'

'He's a Liberal, but he troubles himself little about parties. '

'He's a stout Catholic, though, isn't he?'

'He is a very devout believer in his Church, ' said Dick with the tone ofone who did not desire to continue the theme. 

'Then why does he stop at Whiggery? why not go in for Nationalism and allthe rest of it?'

'And what's all the rest of it?'

'Great Ireland--no first flower of the earth or gem of the sea humbug--butIreland great in prosperity, her harbours full of ships, the woollen trade, her ancient staple, revived: all that vast unused water-power, greater thanall the steam of Manchester and Birmingham tenfold, at full work; the linenmanufacture developed and promoted--'

'And the Union repealed?'

'Of course; that should be first of all. Not that I object to the Union, asmany do, on the grounds of English ignorance as to Ireland. My dislike is, that, for the sake of carrying through certain measures necessary to Irishinterests, I must sit and discuss questions which have no possible concernfor me, and touch me no more than the debates in the Cortes, or theReichskammer at Vienna. What do you or I care for who rules India, or whoowns Turkey? What interest of mine is it whether Great Britain has fiveironclads or fifty, or whether the Yankees take Canada, and the RussiansKabul?'

'You're a Fenian, and I am not. '

'I suppose you'd call yourself an Englishman?'

'I am an English subject, and I owe my allegiance to England. '

'Perhaps for that matter, I owe some too; but I owe a great many thingsthat I don't distress myself about paying. '

'Whatever your sentiments are on these matters--and, Joe, I am not disposedto think you have any very fixed ones--pray do me the favour to keep themto yourself while under my father's roof. I can almost promise you he'llobtrude none of his peculiar opinions on _you_, and I hope you will treat_him_ with a like delicacy. '

'What will your folks talk, then? I can't suppose they care for books, art, or the drama. There is no society, so there can be no gossip. If thatyonder be the cabin of one of your tenants, I'll certainly not start thequestion of farming. '

'There are poor on every estate, ' said Dick curtly. 

'Now what sort of a rent does that fellow pay--five pounds a year?'

'More likely five-and-twenty or thirty shillings. '

'By Jove, I'd like to set up house in that fashion, and make love to somedelicately-nurtured miss, win her affections, and bring her home to such aspot. Wouldn't that be a touchstone of affection, Dick?'

'If I could believe you were in earnest, I'd throw you neck and heels intothat bog-hole. '

'Oh, if you would!' cried he, and there was a ring of truthfulness in hisvoice now there could be no mistaking. Half-ashamed of the emotion hisidle speech had called up, and uncertain how best to treat the emergency, Kearney said nothing, and Atlee walked on for miles without a word. 

'You can see the house now. It tops the trees yonder, ' said Dick. 

'That is Kilgobbin Castle, then?' said Joe slowly. 

'There's not much of castle left about it. There is a square block of atower, and you can trace the moat and some remains of outworks. '

'Shall I make you a confession, Dick? I envy you all that! I envy you whatsmacks of a race, a name, an ancestry, a lineage. It's a great thing to beable to "take up the running, " as folks say, instead of making all the raceyourself; and there's one inestimable advantage in it, it rescues you fromall indecent haste about asserting your station. You feel yourself to be asomebody and you've not hurried to proclaim it. There now, my boy, if you'dhave said only half as much as that on the score of your family, I'd havecalled you an arrant snob. So much for consistency. '

'What you have said gave me pleasure, I'll own that. '

'I suppose it was you planted those trees there. It was a nice thought, andmakes the transition from the bleak bog to the cultivated land more easyand graceful. Now I see the castle well. It's a fine portly mass againstthe morning sky, and I perceive you fly a flag over it. '

'When the lord is at home. '

'Ay, and by the way, do you give him his title while talking to him here?'

'The tenants do, and the neighbours and strangers do as they please aboutit. '

'Does he like it himself?'

'If I was to guess, I should perhaps say he does like it. Here we are now. Inside this low gate you are within the demesne, and I may bid you welcometo Kilgobbin. We shall build a lodge here one of these days. There's a goodstretch, however, yet to the castle. We call it two miles, and it's not farshort of it. '

'What a glorious morning. There is an ecstasy in scenting these nice freshwoods in the clear sunrise, and seeing those modest daffodils make theirmorning toilet. '

'That's a fancy of Kate's. There is a border of such wild flowers all theway to the house. '

'And those rills of clear water that flank the road, are they of herdesigning?'

'That they are. There was a cutting made for a railroad line about fourmiles from this, and they came upon a sort of pudding-stone formation, madeup chiefly of white pebbles. Kate heard of it, purchased the whole mass, and had these channels paved with them from the gate to the castle, andthat's the reason this water has its crystal clearness. '

'She's worthy of Shakespeare's sweet epithet, the "daintiest Kate inChristendom. " Here's her health!' and he stooped down, and filling his palmwith the running water, drank it off. 

'I see it's not yet five o'clock. We'll steal quietly off to bed, and havethree or four hours sleep before we show ourselves. '

CHAPTER XIII

A SICK-ROOM

Cecil Walpole occupied the state-room and the state-bed at KilgobbinCastle; but the pain of a very serious wound had left him very littlefaculty to know what honour was rendered him, or of what watchfulsolicitude he was the object. The fever brought on by his wound hadobliterated in his mind all memory of where he was; and it was onlynow--that is, on the same morning that the young men had arrived at thecastle--that he was able to converse without much difficulty, and enjoythe companionship of Lockwood, who had come over to see him and scarcelyquitted his bedside since the disaster. 

It seems going on all right, ' said Lockwood, as he lifted the iced clothsto look at the smashed limb, which lay swollen and livid on a pillowoutside the clothes. 

'It's not pretty to look at, Harry; but the doctor says "we shall saveit"--his phrase for not cutting it off. '

'They've taken up two fellows on suspicion, and I believe they were of theparty here that night. '

'I don't much care about that. It was a fair fight, and I suspect I didnot get the worst of it. What really does grieve me is to think howingloriously one gets a wound that in real war would have been a title ofhonour. '

'If I had to give a V. C. For this affair, it would be to that fine girl I'dgive it, and not to you, Cecil. '

'So should I. There is no question whatever as to our respective shares inthe achievement. '

'And she is so modest and unaffected about it all, and when she was showingme the position and the alcove, she never ceased to lay stress on thesafety she enjoyed during the conflict. '

'Then she said nothing about standing in front of me after I was wounded?'

'Not a word. She said a great deal about your coolness and indifference todanger, but nothing about her own. '

'Well, I suppose it's almost a shame to own it--not that I could have doneanything to prevent it--but she did step down one step of the stair andactually cover me from fire. '

'She's the finest girl in Europe, ' said Lockwood warmly. 

'And if it was not the contrast with her cousin, I'd almost say one of thehandsomest, ' said Cecil. 

'The Greek is splendid, I admit that, though she'll not speak--she'llscarcely notice me. '

'How is that?'

'I can't imagine, except it might have been, an awkward speech I made whenwe were talking over the row. I said, "Where were you? what were you doingall this time? "'

'And what answer did she make you?'

'None; not a word. She drew herself proudly up, and opened her eyes solarge and full upon me, that I felt I must have appeared some sort ofmonster to be so stared at. '

'I've seen her do that. '

'It was very grand and very beautiful; but I'll be shot if I'd like tostand under it again. From that time to this she has never deigned me morethan a mere salutation. '

'And are you good friends with the other girl?'

'The best in the world. I don't see much of her, for she's always abroad, over the farm, or among the tenants: but when we meet we are very cordialand friendly. '

'And the father, what is he like?'

'My lord is a glorious old fellow, full of hospitable plans and pleasantprojects; but terribly distressed to think that this unlucky incidentshould prejudice you against Ireland. Indeed, he gave me to understand thatthere must have been some mistake or misconception in the matter, for thecastle had never been attacked before; and he insists on saying that ifyou will stop here--I think he said ten years--you'll not see another suchoccurrence. '

'It's rather a hard way to test the problem though. '

'What's more, he included me in the experiment. '

'And this title? Does he assume it, or expect it to be recognised?'

'I can scarcely tell you. The Greek girl "my lords" him occasionally; hisdaughter, never. The servants always do so; and I take it that people usetheir own discretion about it. '

'Or do it in a sort of indolent courtesy, as they call Marsala, sherry, buttake care at the same time to pass the decanter. I believe you telegraphedto his Excellency?'

'Yes; and he means to come over next week. '

'Any news of Lady Maude?'

'Only that she comes with him, and I'm sorry for it. '

'So am I--deuced sorry! In a gossiping town like Dublin there will besurely some story afloat about these handsome girls here. She saw theGreek, too, at the Duke of Rigati's ball at Rome, and she never forgets aname or a face. A pleasant trait in a wife. '

'Of course the best plan will be to get removed, and be safely installed inour old quarters at the Castle before they arrive. '

'We must hear what the doctor says. '

'He'll say no, naturally, for he'll not like to lose his patient. He willhave to convey you to town, and we'll try and make him believe it will bethe making of him. Don't you agree with me, Cecil, it's the thing to do?'

'I have not thought it over yet. I will to-day. By the way, I know it's thething to do, ' repeated he, with an air of determination. 'There will be allmanner of reports, scandals, and falsehoods to no end about this businesshere; and when Lady Maude learns, as she is sure to learn, that the "Greekgirl" is in the story, I cannot measure the mischief that may come of it. '

'Break off the match, eh?'

'That is certainly "on the cards. "'

'I suspect even that would not break your heart. '

'I don't say it would, but it would prove very inconvenient in many ways. Danesbury has great claims on his party. He came here as Viceroy deadagainst his will, and, depend upon it, he made his terms. Then if thesepeople go out, and the Tories want to outbid them, Danesbury couldtake--ay, and would take--office under them. '

'I cannot follow all that. All I know is, I like the old boy himself, though he is a bit pompous now and then, and fancies he's Emperor ofRussia. '

'I wish his niece didn't imagine she was an imperial princess. '

'That she does! I think she is the haughtiest girl I ever met. To be sureshe was a great beauty. '

'_Was_, Harry! What do you mean by "was"? Lady Maude is noteight-and-twenty. '

'Ain't she, though? Will you have a ten-pound note on it that she's notover thirty-one; and I can tell you who could decide the wager?'

'A delicate thought!--a fellow betting on the age of the girl he's going tomarry!'

[Illustration: He entered and Nina arose as he came forward. ]

'Ten o'clock!--nearly half-past ten!' said Lockwood, rising from his chair. 'I must go and have some breakfast. I meant to have been down in timeto-day, and breakfasted with the old fellow and his daughter; for cominglate brings me to a _tête-à-tête_ with the Greek damsel, and it isn'tjolly, I assure you. '

'Don't you speak?'

'Never a word?' She's generally reading a newspaper when I go in. She laysit down; but after remarking that she fears I'll find the coffee cold, shegoes on with her breakfast, kisses her Maltese terrier, asks him a fewquestions about his health, and whether he would like to be in a warmerclimate, and then sails away. '

'And how she walks!'

'Is she bored here?'

'She says not. '

'She can scarcely like these people; they 're not the sort of thing she hasever been used to. '

'She tells me she likes them: they certainly like her. '

'Well, ' said Lockwood, with a sigh, 'she's the most beautiful woman, certainly, I've ever seen; and, at this moment, I'd rather eat a crust witha glass of beer under a hedge than I'd go down and sit at breakfast withher. '

'I'll be shot if I'll not tell her that speech the first day I'm downagain. '

'So you may, for by that time I shall have seen her for the last time. 'And with this he strolled out of the room and down the stairs towards thebreakfast-parlour. 

As he stood at the door he heard the sound of voices laughing and talkingpleasantly. He entered, and Nina arose as he came forward, and said, 'Letme present my cousin--Mr. Richard Kearney, Major Lockwood; his friend, Mr. Atlee. '

The two young men stood up--Kearny stiff and haughty, and Atlee with asort of easy assurance that seemed to suit his good-looking but certainlysnobbish style. As for Lockwood, he was too much a gentleman to have morethan one manner, and he received these two men as he would have receivedany other two of any rank anywhere. 

'These gentlemen have been showing me some strange versions of our littleincident here in the Dublin papers, ' said Nina to Lockwood. 'I scarcelythought we should become so famous. '

'I suppose they don't stickle much for truth, ' said Lockwood, as he brokehis egg in leisurely fashion. 

'They were scarcely able to provide a special correspondent for the event, 'said Atlee; 'but I take it they give the main facts pretty accurately andfairly. '

'Indeed!' said Lockwood, more struck by the manner than by the words of thespeaker. 'They mention, then, that my friend received a bad fracture of theforearm. '

'No, I don't think they do; at least so far as I have seen. They speak ofa night attack on Kilgobbin Castle, made by an armed party of six or sevenmen with faces blackened, and their complete repulse through the heroicconduct of a young lady. '

'The main facts, then, include no mention of poor Walpole and hismisfortune?'

'I don't think that we mere Irish attach any great importance to a brokenarm, whether it came of a cricket-ball or gun; but we do interest ourselvesdeeply when an Irish girl displays feats of heroism and courage that menfind it hard to rival. '

'It was very fine, ' said Lockwood gravely. 

'Fine! I should think it was fine!' burst out Atlee. 'It was so fine that, had the deed been done on the other side of this narrow sea, the nationwould not have been satisfied till your Poet Laureate had commemorated itin verse. '

'Have they discovered any traces of the fellows?' said Lockwood, whodeclined to follow the discussion into this channel. 

'My father has gone over to Moate to-day, ' said Kearney, now speaking forthe first time, 'to hear the examination of two fellows who have been takenup on suspicion. '

'You have plenty of this sort of thing in your country, ' said Atlee toNina. 

'Where do you mean when you say my country?'

'I mean Greece. '

'But I have not seen Greece since I was a child, so high; I have livedalways in Italy. '

'Well, Italy has Calabria and the Terra del Lavoro. '

'And how much do we in Rome know about either?'

'About as much, ' said Lockwood, 'as Belgravia does of the Bog of Allen. '

'You'll return to your friends in civilised life with almost the fame of anAfrican traveller, Major Lockwood, ' said Atlee pertly. 

'If Africa can boast such hospitality, I certainly rather envy thancompassionate Doctor Livingstone, ' said he politely. 

'Somebody, ' said Kearney dryly, 'calls hospitality the breeding of thesavage. '

'But I deny that we are savage, ' cried Atlee. 'I contend for it thatall our civilisation is higher, and that class for class we are in amore advanced culture than the English; that your chawbacon is not asintelligent a being as our bogtrotter; that your petty shopkeeper isinferior to ours; that throughout our middle classes there is not only ahigher morality but a higher refinement than with you. '

'I read in one of the most accredited journals of England the other daythat Ireland had never produced a poet, could not even show a second-ratehumorist, ' said Kearney. 

'Swift and Sterne were third-rate, or perhaps, English, ' said Atlee. 

'These are themes I'll not attempt to discuss, ' said Lockwood; 'but Iknow one thing, it takes three times as much military force to govern thesmaller island. '

'That is to say, to govern the country after _your_ fashion; but leave itto ourselves. Pack your portmanteaus and go away, and then see if we'llneed this parade of horse, foot, and dragoons; these batteries of guns andthese brigades of peelers. '

'You'd be the first to beg us to come back again. '

'Doubtless, as the Greeks are begging the Turks. Eh, mademoiselle; can youfancy throwing yourself at the feet of a Pasha and asking leave to be hisslave?'

'The only Greek slave I ever heard of, ' said Lockwood, 'was in marble andmade by an American. '

'Come into the drawing-room and I'll sing you something, ' said Nina, rising. 

'Which will be far nicer and pleasanter than all this discussion, ' saidJoe. 

'And if you'll permit me, ' said Lockwood, 'we'll leave the drawing-roomdoor open and let poor Walpole hear the music. '

'Would it not be better first to see if he's asleep?' said she. 

'That's true. I'll step up and see. '

Lockwood hurried away, and Joe Atlee, leaning back in his chair, said, 'Well, we gave the Saxon a canter, I think. As you know, Dick, that fellowis no end of a swell. '

'You know nothing about him, ' said the other gruffly. 

'Only so much as newspapers could tell me. He's Master of the Horse in theViceroy's household, and the other fellow is Private Secretary, and someconnection besides. I say, Dick, it's all King James's times back again. There has not been so much grandeur here for six or eight generations. '

'There has not been a more absurd speech made than that, within the time. '

'And he is really somebody?' said Nina to Atlee. 

'A _gran signore davvero_, ' said he pompously. 'If you don't sing your verybest for him, I'll swear you are a republican. '

'Come, take my arm, Nina. I may call you Nina, may I not?' whisperedKearney. 

'Certainly, if I may call you Joe. '

'You may, if you like, ' said he roughly, 'but my name is Dick. '

'I am Beppo, and very much at your orders, ' said Atlee, stepping forwardand leading her away. 

CHAPTER XIV

AT DINNER

They were assembled in the drawing-room before dinner, when Lord Kilgobbinarrived, heated, dusty, and tired, after his twelve miles' drive. 'I say, girls, ' said he, putting his head inside the door, 'is it true that ourdistinguished guest is not coming down to dinner, for, if so, I'll not waitto dress?'

'No, papa; he said he'd stay with Mr. Walpole. They've been receiving anddespatching telegrams all day, and seem to have the whole world on theirhands, ' said Kate. 

'Well, sir, what did you do at the sessions?'

'Yes, my lord, ' broke in Nina, eager to show her more mindful regard to hisrank than Atlee displayed; 'tell us your news?'

'I suspect we have got two of them, and are on the traces of the others. They are Louth men, and were sent special here to give me a lesson, as theycall it. That's what our blessed newspapers have brought us to. Some idlevagabond, at his wits' end for an article, fastens on some unlucky countrygentleman, neither much better nor worse than his neighbours, holds himup to public reprobation, perfectly sure that within a week's time somerascal who owes him a grudge--the fellow he has evicted for non-payment ofrent, the blackguard he prosecuted for perjury, or some other of the likestamp--will write a piteous letter to the editor, relating his wrongs. Thenext act of the drama is a notice on the hall door, with a coffin at thetop; and the piece closes with a charge of slugs in your body, as you areon your road to mass. Now, if I had the making of the laws, the firstfellow I'd lay hands on would be the newspaper writer. Eh, Master Atlee, amI right?'

'I go with you to the furthest extent, my lord. '

'I vote we hang Joe, then, ' cried Dick. 'He is the only member of thefraternity I have any acquaintance with. '

'What--do you tell me that you write for the papers?' asked my lord slyly. 

'He's quizzing, sir; he knows right well I have no gifts of that sort. '

'Here's dinner, papa. Will you give Nina your arm? Mr. Atlee, you are totake me. '

'You'll not agree with me, Nina, my dear, ' said the old man, as he led heralong; 'but I'm heartily glad we have not that great swell who dined withus yesterday. '

'I do agree with you, uncle--I dislike him. '

'Perhaps I am unjust to him; but I thought he treated us all with a sort ofbland pity that I found very offensive. '

'Yes; I thought that too. His manner seemed to say, "I am very sorry foryou, but what can be done?"'

'Is the other fellow--the wounded one--as bad?'

She pursed up her lip, slightly shrugged her shoulders, and then said, 'There's not a great deal to choose between them; but I think I like himbetter. '

'How do you like Dick, eh?' said he, in a whisper. 

'Oh, so much, ' said she, with one of her half-downcast looks, but whichnever prevented her seeing what passed in her neighbour's face. 

'Well, don't let him fall in love with _you_, ' said he, with a smile, 'forit would be bad for you both. '

'But why should he?' said she, with an air of innocence. 

'Just because I don't see how he is to escape it. What's Master Atleesaying to you, Kitty?'

'He's giving me some hints about horse-breaking, ' said she quietly. 

'Is he, by George? Well, I 'd like to see him follow you over that fallentimber in the back lawn. We'll have you out, Master Joe, and give you afield-day to-morrow, ' said the old man. 

'I vote we do, ' cried Dick; 'unless, better still, we could persuade MissBetty to bring the dogs over and give us a cub-hunt. '

'I want to see a cub-hunt, ' broke in Nina. 

'Do you mean that you ride to hounds, Cousin Nina?' asked Dick. 

'I should think that any one who has taken the ox-fences on the RomanCampagna, as I have, might venture to face your small stone-walls here. '

'That's plucky, anyhow; and I hope, Joe, it will put you on your metal toshow yourself worthy of your companionship. What is old Mathew looking somysteriously about? What do you want?'

The old servant thus addressed had gone about the room with the air ofone not fully decided to whom to speak, and at last he leaned over MissKearney's shoulder, and whispered a few words in her ear. 'Of course not, Mat!' said she, and then turning to her father--'Mat has such an opinion ofmy medical skill, he wants me to see Mr. Walpole, who, it seems, has gotup, and evidently increased his pain by it. '

'Oh, but is there no doctor near us?' asked Nina eagerly. 

'I'd go at once, ' said Kate frankly, 'but my skill does not extend tosurgery. '

'I have some little knowledge in that way: I studied and walked thehospitals for a couple of years, ' broke out Joe. 'Shall I go up to him?'

'By all means, ' cried several together, and Joe rose and followed Mathewupstairs. 

'Oh, are you a medical man?' cried Lockwood, as the other entered. 

'After a fashion, I may say I am. At least, I can tell you where my skillwill come to its limit, and that is something. '

'Look here, then--he would insist on getting up, and I fear he hasdisplaced the position of the bones. You must be very gentle, for the painis terrific. '

'No; there's no great mischief done--the fractured parts are in a properposition. It is the mere pain of disturbance. Cover it all over withthe ice again, and'--here he felt his pulse--'let him have some weakbrandy-and-water. '

'That's sensible advice--I feel it. I am shivery all over, ' said Walpole. 

'I'll go and make a brew for you, ' cried Joe, 'and you shall have it as hotas you can drink it. '

He had scarcely left the room, when he returned with the smoking compound. 

'You're such a jolly doctor, ' said Walpole, 'I feel sure you'd not refuseme a cigar?'

'Certainly not. '

'Only think! that old barbarian who was here this morning said I was tohave nothing but weak tea or iced lemonade. '

Lockwood selected a mild-looking weed, and handed it to his friend, and wasabout to offer one to Atlee, when he said--

'But we have taken you from your dinner--pray go back again. '

'No, we were at dessert. I'll stay here and have a smoke, if you will letme. Will it bore you, though?'

'On the contrary, ' said Walpole, 'your company will be a great boon to us;and as for myself, you have done me good already. '

'What would you say, Major Lockwood, to taking my place below-stairs? Theyare just sitting over their wine--some very pleasant claret--and the youngladies, I perceive, here, give half an hour of their company before theyleave the dining-room. '

'Here goes, then, ' said Lockwood. 'Now that you remind me of it, I do wanta glass of wine. '

Lockwood found the party below-stairs eagerly discussing Joe Atlee'smedical qualifications, and doubting whether, if it was a knowledge ofcivil engineering or marine gunnery had been required, he would not havebeen equally ready to offer himself for the emergency. 

'I'll lay my life on it, if the real doctor arrives, Joe will take the leadin the consultation, ' cried Dick: 'he is the most unabashable villain inEurope. '

'Well, he has put Cecil all right, ' said Lockwood: 'he has settled the armmost comfortably on the pillow, the pain is decreasing every moment, and byhis pleasant and jolly talk he is making Walpole even forget it at times. '

This was exactly what Atlee was doing. Watching carefully the sick man'sface, he plied him with just that amount of amusement that he could bearwithout fatigue. He told him the absurd versions that had got abroad of theincident in the press; and cautiously feeling his way, went on to tellhow Dick Kearney had started from town full of the most fiery intentionstowards that visitor whom the newspapers called a 'noted profligate' ofLondon celebrity. 'If you had not been shot before, we were to have managedit for you now, ' said he. 

'Surely these fellows who wrote this had never heard of me. '

'Of course they had not, further than you were on the Viceroy's staff; butis not that ample warranty for profligacy? Besides, the real intention wasnot to assail you, but the people here who admitted you. ' Thus talking, heled Walpole to own that he had no acquaintanceship with the Kearneys, thata mere passing curiosity to see the interesting house had provoked hisrequest, to which the answer, coming from an old friend, led to his visit. Through this channel Atlee drew him on to the subject of the Greek girland her parentage. As Walpole sketched the society of Rome, Atlee, who hadcultivated the gift of listening fully as much as that of talking, knewwhere to seem interested by the views of life thrown out, and where to showa racy enjoyment of the little humoristic bits of description which theother was rather proud of his skill in deploying; and as Atlee alwaysappeared so conversant with the family history of the people they werediscussing, Walpole spoke with unbounded freedom and openness. 

'You must have been astonished to meet the "Titian Girl" in Ireland?' saidJoe at last, for he had caught up the epithet dropped accidentally in theother's narrative, and kept it for use. 

'Was I not! but if my memory had been clearer, I should have remembered shehad Irish connections. I had heard of Lord Kilgobbin on the other side ofthe Alps. '

'I don't doubt that the title would meet a readier acceptance there thanhere. '

'Ah, you think so!' cried Walpole. 'What is the meaning of a rank thatpeople acknowledge or deny at pleasure? Is this peculiar to Ireland?'

'If you had asked whether persons anywhere else would like to maintain sucha strange pretension, I might perhaps have answered you. '

'For the few minutes of this visit to me, I liked him; he seemed frank, hearty, and genial. '

'I suppose he is, and I suspect this folly of the lordship is no fancy ofhis own. '

'Nor the daughter's, then, I'll be bound?'

'No; the son, I take it, has all the ambition of the house. '

'Do you know them well?'

'No, I never saw them till yesterday. The son and I are chums: we livetogether, and have done so these three years. '

'You like your visit here, however?'

'Yes. It's rather good fun on the whole. I was afraid of the indoor lifewhen I was coming down, but it's pleasanter than I looked for. '

'When I asked you the question, it was not out of idle curiosity. I had astrong personal interest in your answer. In fact, it was another way ofinquiring whether it would be a great sacrifice to tear yourself away fromthis. '

'No, inasmuch as the tearing-away process must take place in a couple ofdays--three at farthest. '

'That makes what I have to propose all the easier. It is a matter of greaturgency for me to reach Dublin at once. This unlucky incident has been sorepresented by the newspapers as to give considerable uneasiness to theGovernment, and they are even threatened with a discussion on it in theHouse. Now, I'd start to-morrow, if I thought I could travel with safety. You have so impressed me with your skill, that, if I dared, I'd ask you toconvoy me up. Of course I mean as my physician. '

'But I'm not one, nor ever intend to be. '

'You studied, however?'

'As I have done scores of things. I know a little bit of criminal law, havedone some shipbuilding, rode _haute école_ in Cooke's circus, and, after M. Dumas, I am considered the best amateur macaroni-maker in Europe. '

'And which of these careers do you intend to abide by?'

'None, not one of them. "Financing" is the only pursuit that pays largely. I intend to go in for money. '

'I should like to hear your ideas on that subject. '

'So you shall, as we travel up to town. '

'You accept my offer, then?'

'Of course I do. I am delighted to have so many hours in your company. Ibelieve I can safely say I have that amount of skill to be of serviceto you. One begins his medical experience with fractures. They are thepothooks and hangers of surgery, and I have gone that far. Now, what areyour plans?'

'My plans are to leave this early to-morrow, so as to rest during the hothours of the day, and reach Dublin by nightfall. Why do you smile?'

'I smile at your notion of climate; but I never knew any man who had beenonce in Italy able to disabuse himself of the idea that there were threeor four hours every summer day to be passed with closed shutters and iceddrinks. '

'Well, I believe I was thinking of a fiercer sun and a hotter soil thanthese. To return to my project: we can find means of posting, carriage andhorses, in the village. I forget its name. '

'I'll take care of all that. At what hour will you start?'

'I should say by six or seven. I shall not sleep; and I shall be allimpatience till we are away. '

'Well, is there anything else to be thought of?'

'There is--that is, I have something on my mind, and I am debating withmyself how far, on a half-hour's acquaintance, I can make you a partner init. '

'I cannot help you by my advice. I can only say that if you like to trustme, I'll know how to respect the confidence. '

Walpole looked steadily and steadfastly at him, and the examination seemedto satisfy him, for he said, 'I will trust you--not that the matter is asecret in any sense that involves consequences; but it is a thing thatneeds a little tact and discretion, a slight exercise of a light hand, which is what my friend Lockwood fails in. Now you could do it. '

'If I can, I will. What is it?'

'Well, the matter is this. I have written a few lines here, very illegiblyand badly, as you may believe, for they were with my left hand; andbesides having the letter conveyed to its address, I need a few words ofexplanation. '

'The Titian Girl, ' muttered Joe, as though thinking aloud. 

'Why do you say so?'

'Oh, it was easy enough to see her greater anxiety and uneasiness aboutyou. There was an actual flash of jealousy across her features when MissKearney proposed coming up to see you. '

'And was this remarked, think you?'

'Only by me. _I_ saw, and let her see I saw it, and we understood eachother from that moment. '

'I mustn't let you mistake me. You are not to suppose that there isanything between Mademoiselle Kostalergi and myself. I knew a good dealabout her father, and there were family circumstances in which I was onceable to be of use; and I wished to let her know that if at any time shedesired to communicate with me, I could procure an address, under which shecould write with freedom. '

'As for instance: "J. Atlee, 48 Old Square, Trinity College, Dublin. "'

'Well, I did not think of that at the moment, ' said Walpole, smiling. 'Now, ' continued he, 'though I have written all this, it is so blottedand disgraceful generally--done with the left hand, and while in greatpain--that I think it would be as well not to send the letter, but simply amessage--'

Atlee nodded, and Walpole went on: 'A message to say that I was wishing towrite, but unable; and that if I had her permission, so soon as my fingerscould hold a pen, to finish--yes, to finish that communication I hadalready begun, and if she felt there was no inconvenience in writing to me, under cover to your care, I should pledge myself to devote all my zeal andmy best services to her interests. '

'In fact, I am to lead her to suppose she ought to have the most implicitconfidence in you, and to believe in me, because I say so. '

'I do not exactly see that these are my instructions to you. '

'Well, you certainly want to write to her. '

'I don't know that I do. '

'At all events, you want her to write to _you_. '

'You are nearer the mark now. '

'That ought not to be very difficult to arrange. I'll go down now andhave a cup of tea, and I may, I hope, come up and see you again beforebed-time. '

'Wait one moment, ' cried Walpole, as the other was about to leave the room. 'Do you see a small tray on that table yonder, with some trinkets? Yes, that is it. Well, will you do me the favour to choose something amongstthem as your fee? Come, come, you know you are my doctor now, and Iinsist on this. There's nothing of any value there, and you will have nomisgivings. '

'Am I to take it haphazard?' asked Atlee. 

'Whatever you like, ' said the other indolently. 

'I have selected a ring, ' said Atlee, as he drew it on his finger. 

'Not an opal?'

'Yes, it is an opal with brilliants round it. '

'I'd rather you'd taken all the rest than that. Not that I ever wear it, but somehow it has a bit of memory attached to it!'

'Do you know, ' said Atlee gravely, 'you are adding immensely to the valueI desired to see in it? I wanted something as a souvenir of you--what theGermans call an _Andenken_, and here is evidently what has some secret clueto your affections. It was not an old love-token?'

'No; or I should certainly not part with it. '

'It did not belong to a friend now no more?'

'Nor that either, ' said he, smiling at the other's persistent curiosity. 

'Then if it be neither the gift of an old love nor a lost friend, I'll notrelinquish it, ' cried Joe. 

'Be it so, ' said Walpole, half carelessly. 'Mine was a mere caprice afterall. It is linked with a reminiscence--there's the whole of it; but if youcare for it, pray keep it. '

'I do care for it, and I will keep it. '

It was a very peculiar smile that curled Walpole's lip as he heard thisspeech, and there was an expression in his eyes that seemed to say, 'Whatmanner of man is this, what sort of nature, new and strange to me, is hemade of?'

'Bye-bye!' said Atlee carelessly, and he strolled away. 

CHAPTER XV

IN THE GARDEN AT DUSK

When Atlee quitted Walpole's room, he was far too full of doubt andspeculation to wish to join the company in the drawing-room. He had needof time to collect his thoughts, too, and arrange his plans. This suddendeparture of his would, he well knew, displease Kearney. It would savourof a degree of impertinence, in treating their hospitality so cavalierly, that Dick was certain to resent, and not less certain to attribute to atuft-hunting weakness on Atlee's part of which he had frequently declaredhe detected signs in Joe's character. 

'Be it so. I'll only say, you'll not see me cultivate "swells" for thepleasure of their society, or even the charms of their cookery. If I turnthem to no better uses than display, Master Dick, you may sneer freely atme. I have long wanted to make acquaintance with one of these fellows, andluck has now given me the chance. Let us see if I know how to profit byit. '

And, thus muttering to himself, he took his way to the farmyard, to find amessenger to despatch to the village for post-horses. 

The fact that he was not the owner of a half-crown in the world verypainfully impressed itself on a negotiation, which, to be prompt, should beprepaid, and which he was endeavouring to explain to two or three very idlebut very incredulous listeners--not one of whom could be induced to accepta ten miles' tramp on a drizzling night without the prompting of a tip inadvance. 

'It's every step of eight miles, ' cried one. 

'No, but it's ten, ' asseverated another with energy, 'by rayson that youmust go by the road. There's nobody would venture across the bog in thedark. '

'Wid five shillings in my hand--'

'And five more when ye come back, ' continued another, who was terrified atthe low estimate so rashly adventured. 

'If one had even a shilling or two to pay for a drink when he got in toKilbeggan wet through and shivering--'

The speaker was not permitted to finish his ignominiously low proposal, anda low growl of disapprobation smothered his words. 

'Do you mean to tell me, ' said Joe angrily, 'that there's not a man herewill step over to the town to order a chaise and post-horses?'

'And if yer honour will put his hand in his pocket and tempt us with acouple of crown-pieces, there's no saying what we wouldn't do, ' said alittle bandy old fellow, who was washing his face at the pump. 

'And are crown-pieces so plentiful with you down here that you can earnthem so easily?' said Atlee, with a sneer. 

'Be me sowl, yer honour, it's thinking that they're not so aisy to come at, makes us a bit lazy this evening!' said a ragged fellow, with a grin, whichwas quickly followed by a hearty laugh from those around him. 

Something that sounded like a titter above his head made Atlee look up, andthere, exactly over where he stood, was Nina, leaning over a little stonebalcony in front of a window, an amused witness of the scene beneath. 

'I have two words for yourself, ' cried he to her in Italian. 'Will you comedown to the garden for one moment?'

'Cannot the two words be said in the drawing-room?' asked she, halfsaucily, in the same language. 

'No, they cannot be said in the drawing-room, ' continued he sternly. 

'It's dropping rain. I should get wet. '

'Take an umbrella, then, but come. Mind me, Signora Nina, I am the bearerof a message for you. '

There was something almost disdainful in the toss of her head as she heardthese words, and she hastily retired from the balcony and entered the room. 

Atlee watched her, by no means certain what her gesture might portend. Was she indignant with him for the liberty he had taken? or was she aboutto comply with his request, and meet him? He knew too little of her todetermine which was the more likely; and he could not help feeling that, had he only known her longer, his doubt might have been just as great. Hermind, thought he, is perhaps like my own: it has many turnings, and she'snever very certain which one of them she will follow. Somehow, this imputedwilfulness gave her, to his eyes, a charm scarcely second to that of herexceeding beauty. And what beauty it was! The very perfection of symmetryin every feature when at rest, while the varied expressions of her face asshe spoke, or smiled, or listened, imparted a fascination which only neededthe charm of her low liquid voice to be irresistible. 

How she vulgarises that pretty girl, her cousin, by mere contrast! Whatsubtle essence is it, apart from hair and eyes and skin, that spreads anatmosphere of conquest over these natures, and how is it that men have noascendencies of this sort--nothing that imparts to their superiority thesense that worship of them is in itself an ecstasy?

'Take my message into town, ' said he to a fellow near, 'and you shall havea sovereign when you come back with the horses'; and with this he strolledaway across a little paddock and entered the garden. It was a large, ill-cultivated space, more orchard than garden, with patches of smoothturf, through which daffodils and lilies were scattered, and littleclusters of carnations occasionally showed where flower-beds had onceexisted. 'What would I not give, ' thought Joe, as he strolled along thevelvety sward, over which a clear moonlight had painted the forms of manya straggling branch--'What would I not give to be the son of a house likethis, with an old and honoured name, with an ancestry strong enough tobuild upon for future pretensions, and then with an old home, peaceful, tranquil, and unmolested, where, as in such a spot as this, one might dreamof great things, perhaps more, might achieve them! What books would I notwrite! What novels, in which, fashioning the hero out of my own heart, Icould tell scores of impressions the world had made upon me in its aspectof religion, or of politics, or of society! What essays could I not composehere--the mind elevated by that buoyancy which comes of the consciousnessof being free for a great effort! Free from the vulgar interruptions thatcling to poverty like a garment, free from the paltry cares of dailysubsistence, free from the damaging incidents of a doubtful position and astation that must be continually asserted. That one disparagement, perhaps, worst of all, ' cried he aloud: 'how is a man to enjoy his estate if he is"put upon his title" every day of the week? One might as well be a FrenchEmperor, and go every spring to the country for a character. '

'What shocking indignity is this you are dreaming of?' said a very softvoice near him, and turning he saw Nina, who was moving across the grass, with her dress so draped as to show the most perfect instep and ankle witha very unguarded indifference. 

'This is very damp for you; shall we not come out into the walk?' said he. 

'It is very damp, ' said she quickly; 'but I came because you said you had amessage for me: is this true?'

'Do you think I could deceive you?' said he, with a sort of tenderreproachfulness. 

'It might not be so very easy, if you were to try, ' replied she, laughing. 

'That is not the most gracious way to answer me. '

'Well, I don't believe we came here to pay compliments; certainly I didnot, and my feet are very wet already--look there, and see the ruin of a_chaussure_ I shall never replace in this dear land of coarse leather andhobnails. '

As she spoke she showed her feet, around which her bronzed shoes hung limpand misshapen. 

'Would that I could be permitted to dry them with my kisses, ' said he, as, stooping, he wiped them with his handkerchief, but so deferentially and sorespectfully, as though the homage had been tendered to a princess. Nor didshe for a moment hesitate to accept the service. 

'There, that will do, ' said she haughtily. 'Now for your message. '

'We are going away, mademoiselle, ' said Atlee, with a melancholy tone. 

'And who are "we, " sir?'

'By "we, " mademoiselle, I meant to convey Walpole and myself. ' And now hespoke with the irritation of one who had felt a pull-up. 

'Ah, indeed!' said she, smiling, and showing her pearly teeth. '"We" meantMr. Walpole and Mr. Atlee. '

'You should never have guessed it?' cried he in question. 

'Never--certainly, ' was her cool rejoinder. 

'Well! _He_ was less defiant, or mistrustful, or whatever be the namefor it. We were only friends of half-an-hour's growth when he proposedthe journey. He asked me to accompany him as a favour; and he did more, mademoiselle: he confided to me a mission--a very delicate and confidentialmission--such an office as one does not usually depute to him of whosefidelity or good faith he has a doubt, not to speak of certain smallerqualities, such as tact and good taste. '

'Of whose possession Mr. Atlee is now asserting himself?' said she quietly. 

He grew crimson at a sarcasm whose impassiveness made it all the morecutting. 

'My mission was in this wise, mademoiselle, ' said he, with a forced calmin his manner. 'I was to learn from Mademoiselle Kostalergi if she shoulddesire to communicate with Mr. Walpole touching certain family interests inwhich his counsels might be of use; and in this event, I was to place ather disposal an address by which her letters should reach him. '

'No, sir, ' said she quietly, 'you have totally mistaken any instructionsthat were given you. Mr. Walpole never pretended that I had written or waslikely to write to him; he never said that he was in any way concernedin family questions that pertained to me; least of all did he presume tosuppose that if I had occasion to address him by letter, I should do sounder cover to another. '

'You discredit my character of envoy, then?' said he, smiling easily. 

'Totally and completely, Mr. Atlee; and I only wait for you yourselfto admit that I am right, to hold out my hand to you and say let us befriends. '

'I'd perjure myself twice at such a price. Now for the hand. '

'Not so fast--first the confession, ' said she, with a faint smile. 

'Well, on my honour, ' cried he seriously, 'he told me he hoped you mightwrite to him. I did not clearly understand about what, but it pointed tosome matter in which a family interest was mixed up, and that you mightlike your communication to have the reserve of secrecy. '

'All this is but a modified version of what you were to disavow. '

'Well, I am only repeating it now to show you how far I am going to perjuremyself. '

'That is, you see, in fact, that Mr. Walpole could never have presumed togive you such instructions--that gentlemen do not send such messages toyoung ladies--do not presume to say that they dare do so; and last of all, if they ever should chance upon one whose nice tact and cleverness wouldhave fitted him to be the bearer of such a commission, those same qualitiesof tact and cleverness would have saved him from undertaking it. That iswhat you see, Mr. Atlee, is it not?'

'You are right. I see it all. ' And now he seized her hand and kissed it asthough he had won the right to that rapturous enjoyment. 

She drew her hand away, but so slowly and so gently as to convey nothing ofrebuke or displeasure. 'And so you are going away?' said she softly. 

'Yes; Walpole has some pressing reason to be at once in Dublin. He isafraid to make the journey without a doctor; but rather than risk delay insending for one, he is willing to take _me_ as his body-surgeon, and I haveaccepted the charge. '

The frankness with which he said this seemed to influence her in hisfavour, and she said, with a tone of like candour, 'You were right. His family are people of influence, and will not readily forget such aservice. '

Though he winced under the words, and showed that it was not exactly themode in which he wanted his courtesy to be regarded, she took no account ofthe passing irritation, but went on--

If you fancy you know something about me, Mr. Atlee, _I_ know far moreabout _you_. Your chum, Dick Kearney, has been so outspoken as to hisfriend, that my cousin Kate and I have been accustomed to discuss you likea near acquaintance--what am I saying?--I mean like an old friend. '

'I am very grateful for this interest; but will you kindly say what isthe version my friend Dick has given of me? what are the lights that havefallen upon my humble character?'

[Illustration: 'You are right, I see it all, ' and now he seized her handand kissed it]

'Do you fancy that either of us have time at this moment to open so largea question? Would not the estimate of Mr. Joseph Atlee be another mode ofdiscussing the times we live in, and the young gentlemen, more or lessambitious, who want to influence them? would not the question embraceeverything, from the difficulties of Ireland to the puzzling embarrassmentsof a clever young man who has everything in his favour in life, except theonly thing that makes life worth living for?'

'You mean fortune--money?'

'Of course I mean money. What is so powerless as poverty? do I not knowit--not of yesterday, or the day before, but for many a long year? What sohelpless, what so jarring to temper, so dangerous to all principle, and sosubversive of all dignity? I can afford to say these things, and you canafford to hear them, for there is a sort of brotherhood between us. Weclaim the same land for our origin. Whatever our birthplace, we are bothBohemians!'

She held out her hand as she spoke, and with such an air of cordiality andfrankness that Joe caught the spirit of the action at once, and, bendingover, pressed his lips to it, as he said, 'I seal the bargain. '

'And swear to it?'

'I swear to it, ' cried he. 

'There, that is enough. Let us go back, or rather, let me go back alone. Iwill tell them I have seen you, and heard of your approaching departure. '

CHAPTER XVI

THE TWO 'KEARNEYS'

A visit to his father was not usually one of those things that youngKearney either speculated on with pleasure beforehand, or much enjoyedwhen it came. Certain measures of decorum, and some still more pressingnecessities of economy, required that he should pass some months of everyyear at home; but they were always seasons looked forward to with a mildterror, and when the time drew nigh, met with a species of dogged, fierceresolution that certainly did not serve to lighten the burden of theinfliction; and though Kate's experience of this temper was not varied byany exceptions, she would still go on looking with pleasure for the time ofhis visit, and plotting innumerable little schemes for enjoyment while heshould remain. The first day or two after his arrival usually wentover pleasantly enough. Dick came back full of his town life, and itsamusements; and Kate was quite satisfied to accept gaiety at second-hand. He had so much to tell of balls, picnics, charming rides in the Phoenix, of garden-parties in the beautiful environs of Dublin, or more pretentiousentertainments, which took the shape of excursions to Bray or Killiney, that she came at last to learn all his friends and acquaintances by name, and never confounded the stately beauties that he worshipped afar off withthe 'awfully jolly girls' whom he flirted with quite irresponsibly. She knew, too, all about his male companions, from the flash youngfellow-commoner from Downshire, who had a saddle-horse and a mounted groomwaiting for him every day after morning lecture, down to that scampish JoeAtlee, with whose scrapes and eccentricities he filled many an idle hour. 

Independently of her gift as a good listener, Kate would very willinglyhave heard all Dick's adventures and descriptions not only twice buttenth-told; just as the child listens with unwearied attention to thefairy-tale whose end he is well aware of, but still likes the little detailfalling fresh upon his ear, so would this young girl make him go oversome narratives she knew by heart, and would not suffer him to omit theslightest incident or most trifling circumstance that heightened thehistory of the story. 

As to Dick, however, the dull monotony of the daily life, the small andvulgar interests of the house or the farm, which formed the only topics, the undergrowl of economy that ran through every conversation, as thoughpenuriousness was the great object of existence--but, perhaps more than allthese together, the early hours--so overcame him that he at first becamelow-spirited, and then sulky, seldom appearing save at meal-times, andcertainly contributing little to the pleasure of the meeting; so that atlast, though she might not easily have been brought to the confession, KateKearney saw the time of Dick's departure approach without regret, and wasactually glad to be relieved from that terror of a rupture between herfather and her brother of which not a day passed without a menace. 

Like all men who aspire to something in Ireland, Kearney desired to see hisson a barrister; for great as are the rewards of that high career, they arenot the fascinations which appeal most strongly to the squirearchy, wholove to think that a country gentleman may know a little law and be neverthe richer for it--may have acquired a profession, and yet never know whatwas a client or what a fee. 

That Kearney of Kilgobbin Castle should be reduced to tramping his way downthe Bachelor's Walk to the Four Courts, with a stuff bag carried behindhim, was not to be thought of; but there were so many positions in life, somany situations for which that gifted creature the barrister of six years'standing was alone eligible, that Kearney was very anxious his son shouldbe qualified to accept that £1000 or £1800 a year which a gentleman couldhold without any shadow upon his capacity, or the slightest reflection onhis industry. 

Dick Kearney, however, had not only been living a very gay life in town, but, to avail himself of a variety of those flattering attentions whichthis interested world bestows by preference on men of some pretension, hadlet it be believed that he was the heir to a very considerable estate, and, by great probability, also to a title. To have admitted that he thought itnecessary to follow any career at all, would have been to abdicate thesepretensions, and so he evaded that question of the law in all discussionswith his father, sometimes affecting to say he had not made up his mind, orthat he had scruples of conscience about a barrister's calling, or that hedoubted whether the Bar of Ireland was not, like most high institutions, going to be abolished by Act of Parliament, and all the litigation of theland be done by deputy in Westminster Hall. 

On the morning after the visitors took their departure from Kilgobbin, oldKearney, who usually relapsed from any exercise of hospitality into a morethan ordinary amount of parsimony, sat thinking over the various economiesby which the domestic budget could be squared, and after a very long séancewith old Gill, in which the question of raising some rents and diminishingcertain bounties was discussed, he sent up the steward to Mr. Richard'sroom to say he wanted to speak to him. 

Dick at the time of the message was stretched full length on a sofa, smoking a meerschaum, and speculating how it was that the 'swells' took toJoe Atlee, and what they saw in that confounded snob, instead of himself. Having in a degree satisfied himself that Atlee's success was all owing tohis intense and outrageous flattery, he was startled from his reverie bythe servant's entrance. 

'How is he this morning, Tim?' asked he, with a knowing look. 'Is hefierce--is there anything up--have the heifers been passing the night inthe wheat, or has any one come over from Moate with a bill?'

'No, sir, none of them; but his blood's up about something. Ould Gill isgone down the stair swearing like mad, and Miss Kate is down the road witha face like a turkey-cock. '

'I think you'd better say I was out, Tim--that you couldn't find me in myroom. '

'I daren't, sir. He saw that little Skye terrier of yours below, andhe said to me, "Mr. Dick is sure to be at home; tell him I want himimmediately. "'

'But if I had a bad headache, and couldn't leave my bed, wouldn't that beexcuse enough?'

'It would make him come here. And if I was you, sir, I'd go where I couldget away myself, and not where he could stay as long as he liked. '

'There's something in that. I'll go, Tim. Say I'll be down in a minute. '

Very careful to attire himself in the humblest costume of his wardrobe, andspecially mindful that neither studs nor watch-chain should offer offensivematter of comment, he took his way towards the dreary little den, which, filled with old top-boots, driving-whips, garden-implements, andfishing-tackle, was known as 'the lord's study, ' but whose sole literaryornament was a shelf of antiquated almanacs. There was a strange grimnessabout his father's aspect which struck young Kearney as he crossed thethreshold. His face wore the peculiar sardonic expression of one who hadnot only hit upon an expedient, but achieved a surprise, as he held an openletter in one hand and motioned with the other to a seat. 

'I've been waiting till these people were gone, Dick--till we had a quiethouse of it--to say a few words to you. I suppose your friend Atlee is notcoming back here?'

'I suppose not, sir. '

'I don't like him, Dick; and I'm much mistaken if he is a good fellow. '

'I don't think he is actually a bad fellow, sir. He is often terribly hardup and has to do scores of shifty things, but I never found him out inanything dishonourable or false. '

'That's a matter of taste, perhaps. Maybe you and I might differ about whatwas honourable or what was false. At all events, he was under our roofhere, and if those nobs--or swells, I believe you call them--were like tobe of use to any of us, we, the people that were entertaining them, werethe first to be thought of; but your pleasant friend thought differently, and made such good use of his time that he cut you out altogether, Dick--heleft you nowhere. '

'Really, sir, it never occurred to me till now to take that view of thesituation. '

'Well, take that view of it now, and see how you'll like it! _You_ haveyour way to work in life as well as Mr. Atlee. From all I can judge, you'rescarcely as well calculated to do it as he is. You have not his smartness, you have not his brains, and you have not his impudence--and, 'faith, I'mmuch mistaken but it's the best of the three!'

'I don't perceive, sir, that we are necessarily pitted against each otherat all. '

'Don't you? Well, so much the worse for you if you don't see that everyfellow that has nothing in the world is the rival of every other fellowthat's in the same plight. For every one that swims, ten, at least, sink. '

'Perhaps, sir, to begin, I never fully realised the first condition. I wasnot exactly aware that I was without anything in the world. '

'I'm coming to that, if you'll have a little patience. Here is a letterfrom Tom McKeown, of Abbey Street. I wrote to him about raising a fewhundreds on mortgage, to clear off some of our debts, and have a trifle inhand for drainage and to buy stock, and he tells me that there's no use ingoing to any of the money-lenders so long as your extravagance continues tobe the talk of the town. Ay, you needn't grow red nor frown that way. Theletter was a private one to myself, and I'm only telling it to you inconfidence. Hear what he says: "You have a right to make your son afellow-commoner if you like, and he has a right, by his father's ownshowing, to behave like a man of fortune; but neither of you have a rightto believe that men who advance money will accept these pretensions asgood security, or think anything but the worse of you both for yourextravagance. "'

'And you don't mean to horsewhip him, sir?' burst out Dick. 

'Not, at any rate, till I pay off two thousand pounds that I owe him, andtwo years' interest at six per cent. That he has suffered me to become hisdebtor for. '

'Lame as he is, I'll kick him before twenty-four hours are over. '

'If you do, he'll shoot you like a dog, and it wouldn't be the first timehe handled a pistol. No, no, Master Dick. Whether for better or worse, Ican't tell, but the world is not what it was when I was your age. There'sno provoking a man to a duel nowadays; nor no posting him when he won'tfight. Whether it's your fortune is damaged or your feelings hurt, you mustlook to the law to redress you; and to take your cause into your own handsis to have the whole world against you. '

'And this insult is, then, to be submitted to?'

'It is, first of all, to be ignored. It's the same as if you never heardit. Just get it out of your head, and listen to what he says. Tom McKeownis one of the keenest fellows I know; and he has business with men who knownot only what's doing in Downing Street, but what's going to be done there. Now here's two things that are about to take place: one is the same asdone, for it's all ready prepared--the taking away the landlord's right, and making the State determine what rent the tenant shall pay, and how longhis tenure will be. The second won't come for two sessions after, but itwill be law all the same. There's to be no primogeniture class at all, no entail on land, but a subdivision, like in America and, I believe, inFrance. '

'I don't believe it, sir. These would amount to a revolution. '

'Well, and why not? Ain't we always going through a sort of mildrevolution? What's parliamentary government but revolution, weakened, ifyou like, like watered grog, but the spirit is there all the same. Don'tfancy that, because you can give it a hard name, you can destroy it. But hear what Tom is coming to. "Be early, " says he, "take time by theforelock: get rid of your entail and get rid of your land. Don't wait tillthe Government does both for you, and have to accept whatever condition thelaw will cumber you with, but be before them! Get your son to join youin docking the entail; petition before the court for a sale, yourself orsomebody for you; and wash your hands clean of it all. It's bad property, in a very ticklish country, " says Tom--and he dashes the words--"badproperty in a very ticklish country; and if you take my advice, you'll getclear of both. " You shall read it all yourself by-and-by; I am only givingyou the substance of it, and none of the reasons. '

'This is a question for very grave consideration, to say the least of it. It is a bold proposal. '

'So it is, and so says Tom himself; but he adds: "There's no time to belost; for once it gets about how Gladstone's going to deal with land, andwhat Bright has in his head for eldest sons, you might as well whistle astry to dispose of that property. " To be sure, he says, ' added he, after apause--'he says, "If you insist on holding on--if you cling to the dirtyacres because they were your father's and your great-grandfather's, and ifyou think that being Kearney of Kilgobbin is a sort of title, in the nameof God stay where you are, but keep down your expenses. Give up some ofyour useless servants, reduce your saddle-horses"--_my_ saddle-horses, Dick! "Try if you can live without foxhunting. " Foxhunting! "Make yourdaughter know that she needn't dress like a duchess"--poor Kitty's verylike a duchess; "and, above all, persuade your lazy, idle, and veryself-sufficient son to take to some respectable line of life to gain hisliving. I wouldn't say that he mightn't be an apothecary; but if he likedlaw better than physic, I might be able to do something for him in my ownoffice. "'

'Have you done, sir?' said Dick hastily, as his father wiped hisspectacles, and seemed to prepare for another heat. 

'He goes on to say that he always requires one hundred and fifty guineasfee with a young man; "but we are old friends, Mathew Kearney, " says he, "and we'll make it pounds. "'

'To fit me to be an attorney!' said Dick, articulating each word with aslow and almost savage determination. 

''Faith! it would have been well for us if one of the family had beenan attorney before now. We'd never have gone into that action about themill-race, nor had to pay those heavy damages for levelling Moore's barn. A little law would have saved us from evicting those blackguards atMullenalick, or kicking Mr. Hall's bailiff before witnesses. '

To arrest his father's recollection of the various occasions on which hisillegality had betrayed him into loss and damage, Dick blurted out, 'I'drather break stones on the road than I'd be an attorney. '

'Well, you'll not have to go far for employment, for they are just layingdown new metal this moment; and you needn't lose time over it, ' saidKearney, with a wave of his hand, to show that the audience was over andthe conference ended. 

'There's just one favour I would ask, sir, ' said Dick, with his hand on thelock. 

'You want a hammer, I suppose, ' said his father, with a grin--'isn't _that_it?'

With something that, had it been uttered aloud, sounded very like a bittermalediction, Dick rushed from the room, slamming the door violently afterhim as he went. 

'That's the temper that helps a man to get on in life, ' said the old man, as he turned once more to his accounts, and set to work to see where he hadblundered in his figures. 

CHAPTER XVII

DICK'S REVERIE

When Dick Kearney left his father, he walked from the house, and notknowing or much caring in what direction he went, turned into the garden. 

It was a wild, neglected sort of spot, with fruit-trees of great size, longpast bearing, and close underwood in places that barred the passage. Hereand there little patches of cultivation appeared, sometimes floweringplants, but oftener vegetables. One long alley, with tall hedges of box, had been preserved, and led to a little mound planted with laurels andarbutus, and known as 'Laurel Hill'; here a little rustic summer-house hadonce stood, and still, though now in ruins, showed where, in former days, people came to taste the fresh breeze above the tree-tops, and enjoy thewide range of a view that stretched to the Slieve-Bloom Mountains, nearlythirty miles away. 

Young Kearney reached this spot, and sat down to gaze upon a scene everydetail of which was well known to him, but of which he was utterlyunconscious as he looked. 'I am turned out to starve, ' cried he aloud, asthough there was a sense of relief in thus proclaiming his sorrow to thewinds. 'I am told to go and work upon the roads, to live by my dailylabour. Treated like a gentleman until I am bound to that condition byevery tie of feeling and kindred, and then bade to know myself as anoutcast. I have not even Joe Atlee's resource--I have not imbibed theinstincts of the lower orders, so as to be able to give them back to themin fiction or in song. I cannot either idealise rebellion or make treasontuneful. 

'It is not yet a week since that same Atlee envied me my station as the sonand heir to this place, and owned to me that there was that in the sense ofname and lineage that more than balanced personal success, and here I amnow, a beggar! I can enlist, however, blessings on the noble career thatignores character and defies capacity. I don't know that I'll bring muchloyalty to Her Majesty's cause, but I'll lend her the aid of as broadshoulders and tough sinews as my neighbours. ' And here his voice grewlouder and harsher, and with a ring of defiance in it. 'And no cutting offthe entail, my Lord Kilgobbin! no escape from that cruel necessity ofan heir! I may carry my musket in the ranks, but I'll not surrender mybirthright!'

The thought that he had at length determined on the path he should followaroused his courage and made his heart lighter; and then there was thatin the manner he was vindicating his station and his claim that seemed tosavour of heroism. He began to fancy his comrades regarding him with acertain deference, and treating him with a respect that recognised hiscondition. 'I know the shame my father will feel when he sees to what hehas driven me. What an offence to his love of rank and station to beholdhis son in the coarse uniform of a private! An only son and heir, too! Ican picture to myself his shock as he reads the letter in which I shallsay good-bye, and then turn to tell my sister that her brother is a commonsoldier, and in this way lost to her for ever!

'And what is it all about? What terrible things have I done? Whatentanglements have I contracted? Where have I forged? Whose name have Istolen? whose daughter seduced? What is laid to my charge, beyond that Ihave lived like a gentleman, and striven to eat and drink and dress likeone? And I'll wager my life that for one who will blame him, there willbe ten--no, not ten, fifty--to condemn me. I had a kind, trustful, affectionate father, restricting himself in scores of ways to give me myeducation among the highest class of my contemporaries. I was largelysupplied with means, indulged in every way, and if I turned my stepstowards home, welcomed with love and affection. '

'And fearfully spoiled by all the petting he met with, ' said a soft voiceleaning over his shoulder, while a pair of very liquid grey eyes gazed intohis own. 

'What, Nina!--Mademoiselle Nina, I mean, ' said he, 'have you been longthere?'

'Long enough to hear you make a very pitiful lamentation over a conditionthat I, in my ignorance, used to believe was only a little short ofParadise. '

'You fancied that, did you?'

'Yes, I did so fancy it. '

'Might I be bold enough to ask from what circumstance, though? I entreatyou to tell me, what belongings of mine, what resources of luxury orpleasure, what incident of my daily life, suggested this impression ofyours?'

'Perhaps, as a matter of strict reasoning, I have little to show for myconviction, but if you ask me why I thought as I did, it was simply fromcontrasting your condition with my own, and seeing that in everything wheremy lot has gloom and darkness, if not worse, yours, my ungrateful cousin, was all sunshine. '

'Let us see a little of this sunshine, Cousin Nina. Sit down here besideme, and show me, I pray, some of those bright tints that I am longing togaze on. '

'There's not room for both of us on that bench. '

'Ample room; we shall sit the closer. '

'No, Cousin Dick; give me your arm and we'll take a stroll together. '

'Which way shall it be?'

'You shall choose, cousin. '

'If I have the choice, then, I'll carry you off, Nina, for I'm thinking ofbidding good-bye to the old house and all within it. '

'I don't think I'll consent that far, ' said she, smiling. 'I have had myexperience of what it is to be without a home, or something very nearlythat. I'll not willingly recall the sensation. But what has put such gloomythoughts in your head? What, or rather who is driving you to this?'

'My father, Nina, my father!'

'This is past my comprehending. '

'I'll make it very intelligible. My father, by way of curbing myextravagance, tells me I must give up all pretension to the life of agentleman, and go into an office as a clerk. I refuse. He insists, andtells me, moreover, a number of little pleasant traits of my unfitness todo anything, so that I interrupt him by hinting that I might possibly breakstones on the highway. He seizes the project with avidity, and offers tosupply me with a hammer for my work. All fact, on my honour! I am neitheradding to nor concealing. I am relating what occurred little more than anhour ago, and I have forgotten nothing of the interview. He, as I said, offers to give me a stone-hammer. And now I ask you, is it for me to acceptthis generous offer, or would it be better to wander over that bog yonder, and take my chance of a deep pool, or the bleak world where immersion anddeath are just as sure, though a little slower in coming?'

'Have you told Kate of this?'

'No, I have not seen her. I don't know, if I had seen her, that I shouldhave told her. Kate has so grown to believe all my father's caprices to beabsolute wisdom, that even his sudden gusts of passion seem to her likeflashes of a bright intelligence, too quick and too brilliant for merereason. She could give me no comfort nor counsel either. '

'I am not of your mind, ' said she slowly. 'She has the great gift of whatpeople so mistakingly call _common_ sense. '

'And she'd recommend me, perhaps, not to quarrel with my father, and to goand break the stones. '

'Were you ever in love, Cousin Dick?' asked she, in a tone every accent ofwhich betokened earnestness and even gravity. 

'Perhaps I might say never. I have spooned or flirted or whatever the nameof it might be, but I was never seriously attached to one girl, and unableto think of anything but her. But what has your question to do with this?'

'Everything. If you really loved a girl--that is, if she filled everycorner of your heart, if she was first in every plan and project of yourlife, not alone her wishes and her likings, but her very words and thesound of her voice--if you saw her in everything that was beautiful, andheard her in every tone that delighted you--if to be moving in the airshe breathed was ecstasy, and that heaven itself without her wascheerless--if--'

'Oh, don't go on, Nina. None of these ecstasies could ever be mine. I haveno nature to be moved or moulded in this fashion. I might be very fond of agirl, but she'd never drive me mad if she left me for another. '

'I hope she may, then, if it be with such false money you would buy her, 'said she fiercely. 'Do you know, ' added she, after a pause, 'I was almoston the verge of saying, go and break the stones; the _métier_ is not muchbeneath you, after all!'

'This is scarcely civil, mademoiselle; see what my candour has brought uponme!'

'Be as candid as you like upon the faults of your nature. Tellevery wickedness that you have done or dreamed of, but don't own tocold-heartedness. For _that_ there is no sympathy!'

'Let us go back a bit, then, ' said he, 'and let us suppose that I did lovein the same fervent and insane manner you spoke of, what and how would ithelp me here?'

'Of course it would. Of all the ingenuity that plotters talk of, of all theimagination that poets dream, there is nothing to compare with love. Togain a plodding subsistence a man will do much. To win the girl he loves, to make her his own, he will do everything: he will strive, and strain, andeven starve to win her. Poverty will have nothing mean if confronted forher, hardship have no suffering if endured for her sake. With her beforehim, all the world shows but one goal; without her, life is a mere drearytask, and himself a hired labourer. '

'I confess, after all this, that I don't see how breaking stones would bemore palatable to me because some pretty girl that I was fond of saw mehammering away at my limestone!'

'If you could have loved as I would wish you to love, your career had neverfallen to this. The heart that loved would have stimulated the head thatthought. Don't fancy that people are only better because they are in love, but they are greater, bolder, brighter, more daring in danger, and moreready in every emergency. So wonder-working is the real passion that evenin the base mockery of Love men have risen to genius. Look what it madePetrarch, and I might say Byron too, though he never loved worthy of thename. '

'And how came you to know all this, cousin mine? I'm really curious to knowthat. '

'I was reared in Italy, Cousin Dick, and I have made a deep study of naturethrough French novels. '

Now there was a laughing devilry in her eye as she said this that terriblypuzzled the young fellow, for just at the very moment her enthusiasm hadbegun to stir his breast, her merry mockery wafted it away as with astorm-wind. 

'I wish I knew if you were serious, ' said he gravely. 

'Just as serious as you were when you spoke of being ruined. '

'I was so, I pledge my honour. The conversation I reported to you reallytook place; and when you joined me, I was gravely deliberating with myselfwhether I should take a header into a deep pool or enlist as a soldier. '

'Fie, fie! how ignoble all that is. You don't know the hundreds ofthousands of things one can do in life. Do you speak French or Italian?'

'I can read them, but not freely; but how are they to help me?'

'You shall see: first of all, let me be your tutor. We shall take twohours, three if you like, every morning. Are you free now from all yourcollege studies?'

'I can be after Wednesday next. I ought to go up for my term examination. '

'Well, do so; but mind, don't bring down Mr. Atlee with you. '

'My chum is no favourite of yours?'

'That's as it may be, ' said she haughtily. 'I have only said let us nothave the embarrassment, or, if you like it, the pleasure of his company. I'll give you a list of books to bring down, and my life be on it, but _my_course of study will surpass what you have been doing at Trinity. Is itagreed?'

'Give me till to-morrow to think of it, Nina. '

'That does not sound like a very warm acceptance; but be it so: tillto-morrow. '

'Here are some of Kate's dogs, ' cried he angrily. 'Down, Fan, down! I say. I'll leave you now before she joins us. Mind, not a word of what I toldyou. '

And, without another word, he sprang over a low fence, and speedilydisappeared in the copse beyond it. 

'Wasn't that Dick I saw making his escape?' cried Kate, as she came up. 

'Yes, we were taking a walk together, and he left me very abruptly. '

'I wish I had not spoiled a _tête-à-tête_, ' said Kate merrily. 

'It is no great mischief: we can always renew it. '

'Dear Nina, ' said the other caressingly, as she drew her arm aroundher--'dear, dear Nina, do not, do not, I beseech you. '

'Don't what, child?--you must not speak in riddles. '

'Don't make that poor boy in love with you. You yourself told me you couldsave him from it if you liked. '

'And so I shall, Kate, if you don't dictate or order me. Leave me quite tomyself, and I shall be most merciful. '

CHAPTER XVIII

MATHEW KEARNEY'S 'STUDY'

Had Mathew Kearney but read the second sheet of his correspondent's letter, it is more than likely that Dick had not taken such a gloomy view of hiscondition. Mr. McKeown's epistle continued in this fashion: 'That ought todo for him, Mathew, or my name ain't Tom McKeown. It is not that he is anyworse or better than other young fellows of his own stamp, but he has thegreatest scamp in Christendom for his daily associate. Atlee is deep inall the mischief that goes on in the National press. I believe he is ahead-centre of the Fenians, and I know he has a correspondence with theFrench socialists, and that Rights-of-labour-knot of vagabonds who meet atGeneva. Your boy is not too wise to keep himself out of these scrapes, and he is just, by name and station, of consequence enough to make thesefellows make up to and flatter him. Give him a sound fright, then, and whenhe is thoroughly alarmed about his failure, send him abroad for a shorttour, let him go study at Halle or Heidelberg--anything, in short, thatwill take him away from Ireland, and break off his intimacy with this Atleeand his companions. While he is with you at Kilgobbin, don't let him makeacquaintance with those Radical fellows in the county towns. Keep him down, Mathew, keep him down; and if you find that you cannot do this, make himbelieve that you'll be one day lords of Kilgobbin, and the more he has tolose the more reluctant he'll be to risk it. If he'd take to farming, andmarry some decent girl, even a little beneath him in life, it would saveyou all uneasiness; but he is just that thing now that brings all themisery on us in Ireland. He thinks he's a gentleman because he can donothing; and to save himself from the disgrace of incapacity, 'he'd like tobe a rebel. '

If Mr. Tom McKeown's reasonings were at times somewhat abstruse and hard ofcomprehension to his friend Kearney, it was not that he did not bestowon them due thought and reflection; and over this private and strictlyconfidential page he had now meditated for hours. 

'Bad luck to me, ' cried he at last, 'if I see what he's at. If I'm to tellthe boy he is ruined to-day, and to-morrow to announce to him that he is alord--if I'm to threaten him now with poverty, and the morning after I'm tosend him to Halle, or Hell, or wherever it is--I'll soon be out of my mindmyself through bare confusion. As to having him "down, " he's low enough;but so shall I be too, if I keep him there. I'm not used to seeing my houseuncomfortable, and I cannot bear it. '

Such were some of his reflections, over his agent's advice; and it may beimagined that the Machiavellian Mr. McKeown had fallen upon a very inaptpupil. 

It must be owned that Mathew Kearney was somewhat out of temper with hisson even before the arrival of this letter. While the 'swells, ' as he wouldpersist in calling the two English visitors, were there, Dick took notrouble about them, nor to all seeming made any impression on them. AsMathew said, 'He let Joe Atlee make all the running, and, signs on it! JoeAtlee was taken off to town as Walpole's companion, and Dick not so much asthought of. Joe, too, did the honours of the house as if it was his own, and talked to Lockwood about coming down for the partridge-shooting as ifhe was the head of the family. The fellow was a bad lot, and McKeown wasright so far--the less Dick saw of him the better. '

The trouble and distress these reflections, and others like them, cost himwould more than have recompensed Dick, had he been hard-hearted enough todesire a vengeance. 'For a quarter of an hour, or maybe twenty minutes, 'said he, 'I can be as angry as any man in Europe, and, if it was requiredof me during that time to do anything desperate--downright wicked--I couldbe bound to do it; and what's more, I'd stand to it afterwards if it costme the gallows. But as for keeping up the same mind, as for being able tosay to myself my heart is as hard as ever, I'm just as much bent on crueltyas I was yesterday--that's clean beyond me; and the reason, God help me, isno great comfort to me after all--for it's just this: that when I do a hardthing, whether distraining a creature out of his bit of ground, selling awidow's pig, or fining a fellow for shooting a hare, I lose my appetite andhave no heart for my meals; and as sure as I go asleep, I dream of all themisfortunes in life happening to me, and my guardian angel sitting laughingall the while and saying to me, "Didn't you bring it on yourself, MathewKearney? couldn't you bear a little rub without trying to make a calamityof it? Must somebody be always punished when anything goes wrong in life?Make up your mind to have six troubles every day of your life, and see howjolly you'll be the day you can only count five, or maybe four. "'

As Mr. Kearney sat brooding in this wise, Peter Gill made his entrance intothe study with the formidable monthly lists and accounts, whose examinationconstituted a veritable doomsday to the unhappy master. 

'Wouldn't next Saturday do, Peter?' asked Kearney, in a tone of almostentreaty. 

'I'm afther ye since Tuesday last, and I don't think I'll be able to go onmuch longer. '

Now as Mr. Gill meant by this speech to imply that he was obliged to trustentirely to his memory for all the details which would have been committedto writing by others, and to a notched stick for the manifold dates of avast variety of events, it was not really a very unfair request he had madefor a peremptory hearing. 

'I vow to the Lord, ' sighed out Kearney, 'I believe I'm the hardest-workedman in the three kingdoms. '

'Maybe you are, ' muttered Gill, though certainly the concurrence scarcelysounded hearty, while he meanwhile arranged the books. 

'Oh, I know well enough what you mean. If a man doesn't work with a spadeor follow the plough, you won't believe that he works at all. He mustdrive, or dig, or drain, or mow. There's no labour but what strains a man'sback, and makes him weary about the loins; but I'll tell you, Peter Gill, that it's here'--and he touched his forehead with his finger--'it's here isthe real workshop. It's thinking and contriving; setting this against that;doing one thing that another may happen, and guessing what will come if wedo this and don't do that; carrying everything in your brain, and, whetheryou are sitting over a glass with a friend or taking a nap after dinner, thinking away all the time! What would you call that, Peter Gill--whatwould you call that?'

'Madness, begorra, or mighty near it!'

'No; it's just work--brain-work. As much above mere manual labour asthe intellect, the faculty that raises us above the brutes, is abovethe--the--'

'Yes, ' said Gill, opening the large volume and vaguely passing his handover a page. 'It's somewhere there about the Conacre!'

'You're little better than a beast!' said Kearney angrily. 

'Maybe I am, and maybe I'm not. Let us finish this, now that we're aboutit. '

And so saying, he deposited his other books and papers on the table, andthen drew from his breast-pocket a somewhat thick roll of exceedingly dirtybank-notes, fastened with a leather thong. 

'I'm glad to see some money at last, Peter, ' cried Kearney, as his eyecaught sight of the notes. 

'Faix, then, it's little good they'll do ye, ' muttered the other gruffly. 

'What d'ye mean by that, sir?' asked he angrily. 

'Just what I said, my lord, the devil a more nor less, and that the moneyyou see here is no more yours nor it is mine! It belongs to the land itcame from. Ay, ay, stamp away, and go red in the face: you must hear thetruth, whether you like it or no. The place we're living in is going torack and ruin out of sheer bad treatment. There's not a hedge on theestate; there isn't a gate that could be called a gate; the holes thepeople live in isn't good enough for badgers; there's no water for themill at the cross-roads; and the Loch meadows is drowned with wet--we'redragging for the hay, like seaweed! And you think you've a right tothese'--and he actually shook the notes at him--to go and squander them onthem "impedint" Englishmen that was laughing at you! Didn't I hear themmyself about the tablecloth that one said was the sail of a boat. '

'Will you hold your tongue?' cried Kearney, wild with passion. 

'I will not! I'll die on the floore but I'll speak my mind. '

This was not only a favourite phrase of Mr. Gill's, but it was so farsignificant that it always indicated he was about to give notice toleave--a menace on his part of no unfrequent occurrence. 

'Ye's going, are ye?' asked Kearney jeeringly. 

'I just am; and I'm come to give up the books, and to get my receipts andmy charac--ter. '

'It won't be hard to give the last, anyway, ' said Kearney, with a grin. 

'So much the better. It will save your honour much writing, with all thatyou have to do. '

'Do you want me to kick you out of the office, Peter Gill?'

'No, my lord, I'm going quiet and peaceable. I'm only asking my rights. '

'You're bidding hard to be kicked out, you are. '

'Am I to leave them here, or will your honour go over the books with me?'

'Leave the notes, sir, and go to the devil. '

'I will, my lord; and one comfort at least I'll have--it won't be harder toput up with his temper. '

Mr. Gill's head barely escaped the heavy account-book which struck the doorabove him as he escaped from the room, and Mathew Kearney sat back in hischair and grasped the arms of it like one threatened with a fit. 

'Where's Miss Kitty--where's my daughter?' cried he aloud, as though therewas some one within hearing. 'Taking the dogs a walk, I'll be bound, 'muttered he, 'or gone to see somebody's child with the measles, devil fearher! She has plenty on her hands to do anywhere but at home. The placemight be going to rack and ruin for her if there was only a young colt tolook at, or a new litter of pigs! And so you think to frighten me, PeterGill! You've been doing the same thing every Easter, and every harvest, these five-and-twenty years! I can only say I wish you had kept your threatlong ago, and the property wouldn't have as many tumble-down cabins andruined fences as it has now, and my rent-roll, too, wouldn't have been theworse. I don't believe there's a man in Ireland more cruelly robbed thanmyself. There isn't an estate in the county has not risen in value exceptmy own! There's not a landed gentleman hasn't laid by money in the baronybut myself, and if you were to believe the newspapers, I'm the hardestlandlord in the province of Leinster. Is that Mickey Doolan there? Mickey!'cried he, opening the window, 'did you see Miss Kearney anywhere about?'

'Yes, my lord. I see her coming up the Bog road with Miss O'Shea. '

'The worse luck mine!' muttered he, as he closed the window, and leaned hishead on his hand. 

CHAPTER XIX

AN UNWELCOME VISIT

If Mathew Kearney had been put to the question, he could not have concealedthe fact that the human being he most feared and dreaded in life was hisneighbour Miss Betty O'Shea. 

With two years of seniority over him, Miss Betty had bullied him as achild, snubbed him as a youth, and opposed and sneered at him ever after;and to such an extent did her influence over his character extend, according to his own belief, that there was not a single good trait of hisnature she had not thwarted by ridicule, nor a single evil temptation towhich he had yielded that had not come out of sheer opposition to thatlady's dictation. 

Malevolent people, indeed, had said that Mathew Kearney had once hadmatrimonial designs on Miss Betty, or rather, on that snug place and niceproperty called 'O'Shea's Barn, ' of which she was sole heiress; but he moststoutly declared this story to be groundless, and in a forcible mannerasseverated that had he been Robinson Crusoe and Miss Betty the onlyinhabitant of the island with him, he would have lived and died incelibacy. 

Miss Betty, to give her the name by which she was best known, was nomiracle of either tact or amiability, but she had certain qualities thatcould not be disparaged. She was a strict Catholic, charitable, in her ownpeculiar and imperious way, to the poor, very desirous to be strictly justand honest, and such a sure foe to everything that she thought pretensionor humbug of any kind--which meant anything that did not square with herown habits--that she was perfectly intolerable to all who did not acceptherself and her own mode of life as a model and an example. 

Thus, a stout-bodied copper urn on the tea-table, a very uncouthjaunting-car, driven by an old man, whose only livery was a cockade, somevery muddy port as a dinner wine, and whisky-punch afterwards on the brownmahogany, were so many articles of belief with her, to dissent from any ofwhich was a downright heresy. 

Thus, after Nina arrived at the castle, the appearance of napkins palpablyaffected her constitution; with the advent of finger-glasses she ceased hervisits, and bluntly declined all invitations to dinner. That coffee andsome indescribable liberties would follow, as postprandial excesses, shesecretly imparted to Kate Kearney in a note, which concluded with theassurance that when the day of these enormities arrived, O'Shea's BarnWould be open to her as a refuge and a sanctuary; 'but not, ' added she, 'with your cousin, for I'll not let the hussy cross my doors. '

For months now this strict quarantine had lasted, and except for theinterchange of some brief and very uninteresting notes, all intimacy hadceased between the two houses--a circumstance, I am loth to own, which wasmost ungallantly recorded every day after dinner by old Kearney, who drank'Miss Betty's health, and long absence to her. ' It was then with no smallastonishment Kate was overtaken in the avenue by Miss Betty on her oldchestnut mare Judy, a small bog-boy mounted on the croup behind to act asgroom; for in this way Paddy Walshe was accustomed to travel, without theslightest consciousness that he was not in strict conformity with the waysof Rotten Row and the 'Bois. '

That there was nothing 'stuck-up' or pretentious about this mode of beingaccompanied by one's groom--a proposition scarcely assailable--was MissBetty's declaration, delivered in a sort of challenge to the world. Indeed, certain ticklesome tendencies in Judy, particularly when touched with theheel, seemed to offer the strongest protest against the practice; forwhenever pushed to any increase of speed or admonished in any way, thebeast usually responded by a hoist of the haunches, which invariablycompelled Paddy to clasp his mistress round the waist for safety--asituation which, however repugnant to maiden bashfulness, time, and perhapsnecessity, had reconciled her to. At all events, poor Paddy's terror wouldhave been the amplest refutation of scandal, while the stern immobility ofMiss Betty during the embrace would have silenced even malevolence. 

On the present occasion, a sharp canter of several miles had reduced Judyto a very quiet and decorous pace, so that Paddy and his mistress satalmost back to back--a combination that only long habit enabled Kate towitness without laughing. 

'Are you alone up at the castle, dear?' asked Miss Betty, as she rodealong at her side; 'or have you the house full of what the papers call"distinguished company"?'

'We are quite alone, godmother. My brother is with us, but we have nostrangers. '

'I am glad of it. I've come over to "have it out" with your father, andit's pleasant to know we shall be to ourselves. '

Now, as this announcement of having 'it out' conveyed to Kate's mindnothing short of an open declaration of war, a day of reckoning on whichMiss O'Shea would come prepared with a full indictment, and a resolution toprosecute to conviction, the poor girl shuddered at a prospect so certainto end in calamity. 

'Papa is very far from well, godmother, ' said she, in a mild way. 

'So they tell me in the town, ' said the other snappishly. 'His brothermagistrates said that the day he came in, about that supposed attack--thememorable search for arms--'

'Supposed attack! but, godmother, pray don't imagine we had invented allthat. I think you know me well enough and long enough to know--'

'To know that you would not have had a young scamp of a Castle aide-de-campon a visit during your father's absence, not to say anything about amusingyour English visitor by shooting down your own tenantry. '

'Will you listen to me for five minutes?'

'No, not for three. '

'Two, then--one even--one minute, godmother, will convince you how youwrong me. '

'I won't give you that. I didn't come over about you nor your affairs. Whenthe father makes a fool of himself, why wouldn't the daughter? The wholecountry is laughing at him. His lordship indeed! a ruined estate and atenantry in rags; and the only remedy, as Peter Gill tells me, raising therents--raising the rents where every one is a pauper. '

'What would you have him do, Miss O'Shea?' said Kate, almost angrily. 

'I'll tell you what I'd have him do. I'd have him rise of a morning beforenine o'clock, and be out with his labourers at daybreak. I'd have himreform a whole lazy household of blackguards, good for nothing but wasteand wickedness. I'd have him apprentice your brother to a decent trade ora light business. I'd have him declare he'd kick the first man that calledhim "My lord"; and for yourself, well, it's no matter--'

'Yes, but it is, godmother, a great matter to me at least. What aboutmyself?'

'Well, I don't wish to speak of it, but it just dropped out of my lips byaccident; and perhaps, though not pleasant to talk about, it's as well itwas said and done with. I meant to tell your father that it must be allover between you and my nephew Gorman; that I won't have him back here onleave as I intended. I know it didn't go far, dear. There was none of whatthey call love in the case. You would probably have liked one another wellenough at last; but I won't have it, and it's better we came to the rightunderstanding at once. '

'Your curb-chain is loose, godmother, ' said the girl, who now, pale asdeath and trembling all over, advanced to fasten the link. 

'I declare to the Lord, he's asleep!' said Miss Betty, as the wearied headof her page dropped heavily on her shoulder. 'Take the curb off, dear, orI may lose it. Put it in your pocket for me, Kate; that is, if you wear apocket. '

'Of course I do, godmother. I carry very stout keys in it, too. Look atthese. '

'Ay, ay. I liked all that, once on a time, well enough, and used to thinkyou'd be a good thrifty wife for a poor man; but with the viscount yourfather, and the young princess your first cousin, and the devil knows whatof your fine brother, I believe the sooner we part good friends the better. Not but if you like my plan for you, I'll be just as ready as ever to aidyou. '

'I have not heard the plan yet, ' said Kate faintly. 

'Just a nunnery, then--no more nor less than that. The "Sacred Heart" atNamur, or the Sisters of Mercy here at home in Bagot Street, I believe, ifyou like better--eh?'

'It is soon to be able to make up one's mind on such a point. I want alittle time for this, godmother. '

'You would not want time if your heart were in a holy work, Kate Kearney. It's little time you'd be asking if I said, will you have Gorman O'Shea fora husband?'

'There is such a thing as insult, Miss O'Shea, and no amount of longintimacy can license that. '

'I ask your pardon, godchild. I wish you could know how sorry I feel. '

'Say no more, godmother, say no more, I beseech you, ' cried Kate, and hertears now gushed forth, and relieved her almost bursting heart. 'I'll takethis short path through the shrubbery, and be at the door before you, 'cried she, rushing away; while Miss Betty, with a sharp touch of the spur, provoked such a plunge as effectually awoke Paddy, and apprised him thathis duties as groom were soon to be in request. 

While earnestly assuring him that some changes in his diet should bespeedily adopted against somnolency, Miss Betty rode briskly on, andreached the hall door. 

'I told you I should be first, godmother, ' said the girl; and the pleasantring of her voice showed she had regained her spirits, or at least suchself-control as enabled her to suppress her sorrow. 

CHAPTER XX

A DOMESTIC DISCUSSION

It is a not infrequent distress in small households, especially when somemiles from a market-town, to make adequate preparation for an unexpectedguest at dinner; but even this is a very inferior difficulty to thatexperienced by those who have to order the repast in conformity withcertain rigid notions of a guest who will criticise the smallest deviationfrom the most humble standard, and actually rebuke the slightest pretensionto delicacy of food or elegance of table-equipage. 

No sooner, then, had Kate learned that Miss O'Shea was to remain fordinner, than she immediately set herself to think over all the possiblereductions that might be made in the fare, and all the plainness andsimplicity that could be imparted to the service of the meal. 

Napkins had not been the sole reform suggested by the Greek cousin. She hadintroduced flowers on the table, and so artfully had she decked out theboard with fruit and ornamental plants, that she had succeeded in effectingby artifice what would have been an egregious failure if more openlyattempted--the service of the dishes one by one to the guests without anybeing placed on the table. These, with finger-glasses, she had alreadyachieved, nor had she in the recesses of her heart given up the hope ofseeing the day that her uncle would rise from the table as she did, giveher his arm to the drawing-room, and bow profoundly as he left her. Of theinestimable advantages, social, intellectual, and moral, of this system, she had indeed been cautious to hold forth; for, like a great reformer, she was satisfied to leave her improvements to the slow test of time, 'educating her public, ' as a great authority has called it, while she bidedthe result in patience. 

Indeed, as poor Mathew Kearney was not to be indulged with the luxury ofwhisky-punch during his dinner, it was not easy to reply to his question, 'When am I to have my tumbler?' as though he evidently believed theaforesaid 'tumbler' was an institution that could not be abrogated oromitted altogether. 

Coffee in the drawing-room was only a half-success so long as the gentlemensat over their wine; and as for the daily cigarette Nina smoked with it, Kate, in her simplicity, believed it was only done as a sort of protestat being deserted by those unnatural protectors who preferred poteen toladies. 

It was therefore in no small perturbation of mind that Kate rushed toher cousin's room with the awful tidings that Miss Betty had arrived andintended to remain for dinner. 

'Do you mean that odious woman with the boy and band-box behind her onhorseback?' asked Nina superciliously. 

'Yes, she always travels in that fashion; she is odd and eccentric inscores of things, but a fine-hearted, honest woman, generous to the poor, and true to her friends. '

'I don't care for her moral qualities, but I do bargain for a littleoutward decency, and some respect for the world's opinion. '

'You will like her, Nina, when you know her. '

'I shall profit by the warning. I'll take care not to know her. '

'She is one of the oldest, I believe the oldest, friend our family has inthe world. '

'What a sad confession, child; but I have always deplored longevity. '

'Don't be supercilious or sarcastic, Nina, but help me with your own goodsense and wise advice. She has not come over in the best of humours. Shehas, or fancies she has, some difference to settle with papa. They seldommeet without a quarrel, and I fear this occasion is to be no exception; sodo aid me to get things over pleasantly, if it be possible. '

'She snubbed me the only time I met her. I tried to help her off with herbonnet, and, unfortunately, I displaced, if I did not actually remove, herwig, and she muttered something "about a rope-dancer not being a dexterouslady's-maid. "'

'O Nina, surely you do not mean--'

'Not that I was exactly a rope-dancer, Kate, but I had on a Greek jacketthat morning of blue velvet and gold, and a white skirt, and perhaps thesehad some memories of the circus for the old lady. '

'You are only jesting now, Nina. '

'Don't you know me well enough to know that I never jest when I think, oreven suspect, I am injured?'

'Injured!'

'It's not the word I wanted, but it will do; I used it in its Frenchsense. '

'You bear no malice, I'm sure?' said the other caressingly. 

'No!' replied she, with a shrug that seemed to deprecate even having athought about her. 

'She will stay for dinner, and we must, as far as possible, receive her inthe way she has been used to here, a very homely dinner, served as shehas always seen it--no fruit or flowers on the table, no claret-cup, nofinger-glasses. '

'I hope no tablecloth; couldn't we have a tray on a corner table, and everyone help himself as he strolled about the room?'

'Dear Nina, be reasonable just for this once. '

'I'll come down just as I am, or, better still, I'll take down my hair andcram it into a net; I'd oblige her with dirty hands, if I only knew how todo it. '

'I see you only say these things in jest; you really do mean to help methrough this difficulty. '

'But why a difficulty? what reason can you offer for all this absurdsubmission to the whims of a very tiresome old woman? Is she very rich, anddo you expect an heritage?'

'No, no; nothing of the kind. '

'Does she load you with valuable presents? Is she ever ready to commemoratebirthdays and family festivals?'

'No. '

'Has she any especial quality or gift beyond riding double and a badtemper? Oh, I was forgetting; she is the aunt of her nephew, isn'tshe?--the dashing lancer that was to spend his summer over here?'

'You were indeed forgetting when you said this, ' said Kate proudly, and herface grew scarlet as she spoke. 

'Tell me that you like him or that he likes you; tell me that there issomething, anything, between you, child, and I'll be discreet and mannerly, too; and more, I'll behave to the old lady with every regard to one whoholds such dear interests in her keeping. But don't bandage my eyes, andtell me at the same time to look out and see. '

'I have no confidences to make you, ' said Kate coldly. 'I came here to aska favour--a very small favour, after all--and you might have accorded itwithout question or ridicule. '

'But which you never need have asked, Kate, ' said the other gravely. 'Youare the mistress here; I am but a very humble guest. Your orders areobeyed, as they ought to be; my suggestions may be adopted now andthen--partly in caprice, part compliment--but I know they have nopermanence, no more take root here than--than myself. '

'Do not say that, my dearest Nina, ' said Kate, as she threw herself on herneck and kissed her affectionately again and again. 'You are one of us, andwe are all proud of it. Come along with me, now, and tell me all thatyou advise. You know what I wish, and you will forgive me even in mystupidity. '

'Where's your brother?' asked Nina hastily. 

'Gone out with his gun. He'll not be back till he is certain Miss Betty hastaken her departure. '

'Why did he not offer to take me with him?'

'Over the bog, do you mean?'

'Anywhere; I'd not cavil about the road. Don't you know that I have dayswhen "don't care" masters me--when I'd do anything, go anywhere--'

'Marry any one?' said the other, laughing. 

'Yes, marry any one, as irresponsibly as if I was dealing with the destinyof some other that did not regard me. On these days I do not belong tomyself, and this is one of them. '

'I know nothing of such humours, Nina; nor do I believe it a healthy mindthat has them. '

'I did not boast of my mind's health, nor tell you to trust to it. Come, let us go down to the dinner-room, and talk that pleasant leg-of-muttontalk you know you are fond of. '

'And best fitted for, say that, ' said Kate, laughing merrily. 

The other did not seem to have heard her words, for she moved slowly away, calling on Kate to follow her. 

CHAPTER XXI

A SMALL DINNER-PARTY

It is sad to have to record that all Kate's persuasions with her cousin, all her own earnest attempts at conciliation, and her ably-planned schemesto escape a difficulty, were only so much labour lost. A stern messagefrom her father commanded her to make no change either in the house or theservice of the dinner--an interference with domestic cares so novel onhis part as to show that he had prepared himself for hostilities, and wasresolved to meet his enemy boldly. 

'It's no use, all I have been telling you, Nina, ' said Kate, as shere-entered her room, later in the day. 'Papa orders me to have everythingas usual, and won't even let me give Miss Betty an early dinner, though heknows she has nine miles of a ride to reach home. '

'That explains somewhat a message he has sent myself, ' replied Nina, 'towear my very prettiest toilet and my Greek cap, which he admired so muchthe other day. '

'I am almost glad that _my_ wardrobe has nothing attractive, ' said Kate, half sadly. 'I certainly shall never be rebuked for my becomingness. '

'And do you mean to say that the old woman would be rude enough to extendher comments to _me_?'

'I have known her do things quite as hardy, though I hope on the presentoccasion the other novelties may shelter you. '

'Why isn't your brother here? I should insist on his coming down indiscreet black, with a white tie and that look of imposing solemnity youngEnglishmen assume for dinner. '

'Dick guessed what was coming, and would not encounter it. '

'And yet you tell me you submit to all this for no earthly reason. She canleave you no legacy, contribute in no way to your benefit. She has neitherfamily, fortune, nor connections; and, except her atrocious manners andher indomitable temper, there is not a trait of her that claims to berecorded. '

'Oh yes; she rides capitally to hounds, and hunts her own harriers toperfection. '

'I am glad she has one quality that deserves your favour. '

'She has others, too, which I like better than what they callaccomplishments. She is very kind to the poor, never deterred by anysickness from visiting them, and has the same stout-hearted courage forevery casualty in life. '

'A commendable gift for a squaw, but what does a gentlewoman want with thissame courage?'

'Look out of the window, Nina, and see where you are living! Throw youreyes over that great expanse of dark bog, vast as one of the greatcampagnas you have often described to us, and bethink you how mereloneliness--desolation--needs a stout heart to bear it; how the simplefact that for the long hours of a summer's day, or the longer hours of awinter's night, a lone woman has to watch and think of all the possiblecasualties lives of hardship and misery may impel men to. Do you imaginethat she does not mark the growing discontent of the people? see theircareworn looks, dashed with a sullen determination, and hear in theirvoices the rising of a hoarse defiance that was never heard before? Doesshe not well know that every kindness she has bestowed, every merciful actshe has ministered, would weigh for nothing in the balance on the day thatshe will be arraigned as a landowner--the receiver of the poor man's rent!And will you tell me after this she can dispense with courage?'

'_Bel paese davvero!_' muttered the other. 

'So it is, ' cried Kate; 'with all its faults I'd not exchange it for thebrightest land that ever glittered in a southern sun. But why should I tellyou how jarred and disconcerted we are by laws that have no reference toour ways--conferring rights where we were once contented with trustfulness, and teaching men to do everything by contract, and nothing by affection, nothing by good-will. '

'No, no, tell me none of all these; but tell me, shall I come down in mySuliote jacket of yellow cloth, for I know it becomes me?'

'And if we women had not courage, ' went on Kate, not heeding the question, 'what would our men do? Should we see them lead lives of bolder daring thanthe stoutest wanderer in Africa?'

'And my jacket and my Theban belt?'

'Wear them all. Be as beautiful as you like, but don't be late for dinner. 'And Kate hurried away before the other could speak. 

When Miss O'Shea, arrayed in a scarlet poplin and a yellow gauzeturban--the month being August--arrived in the drawing-room before dinner, she found no one there--a circumstance that chagrined her so far that shehad hurried her toilet and torn one of her gloves in her haste. 'When theysay six for the dinner-hour, they might surely be in the drawing-room bythat hour, ' was Miss Betty's reflection as she turned over some of themagazines and circulating-library books which since Nina's arrival hadfound their way to Kilgobbin. The contemptuous manner in which she treated_Blackwood_ and _Macmillan_, and the indignant dash with which she flungTrollope's last novel down, showed that she had not been yet corrupted bythe light reading of the age. An unopened country newspaper, addressed tothe Viscount Kilgobbin, had however absorbed all her attention, and shewas more than half disposed to possess herself of the envelope, when Mr. Kearney entered. 

His bright blue coat and white waistcoat, a profusion of shirt-frill, anda voluminous cravat proclaimed dinner-dress, and a certain pomposity ofmanner showed how an unusual costume had imposed on himself, and suggestedan important event. 

'I hope I see Miss O'Shea in good health?' said he, advancing. 

'How are you, Mathew?' replied she dryly. 'When I heard that big bellthundering away, I was so afraid to be late that I came down with onebracelet, and I have torn my glove too. '

'It was only the first bell--the dressing-bell, ' he said. 

'Humph! That's something new since I was here last, ' said she tartly. 

'You remind me of how long it is since you dined with us, Miss O'Shea. '

'Well, indeed, Mathew, I meant to be longer, if I must tell the truth. Isaw enough the last day I lunched here to show me Kilgobbin was not whatit used to be. You were all of you what my poor father--who was alwaysthinking of the dogs--used to call "on your hind-legs, " walking about verystately and very miserable. There were three or four covered dishes onthe table that nobody tasted; and an old man in red breeches ran about inhalf-distraction, and said, "Sherry, my lord, or Madeira?" Many's the timeI laughed over it since. ' And, as though to vouch for the truth of themirthfulness, she lay back in her chair and shook with hearty laughter. 

Before Kearney could reply--for something like a passing apoplexy hadarrested his words--the girls entered, and made their salutations. 

'If I had the honour of knowing you longer, Miss Costigan, ' said MissO'Shea--for it was thus she translated the name Kostalergi--'I'd ask youwhy you couldn't dress like your cousin Kate. It may be all very well inthe house, and it's safe enough here, there's no denying it; but my name'snot Betty if you'd walk down Kilbeggan without a crowd yelling after youand calling names too, that a respectable young woman wouldn't bargain for;eh, Mathew, is that true?'

'There's the dinner-bell now, ' said Mathew; 'may I offer my arm?'

'It's thin enough that arm is getting, Mathew Kearney, ' said she, as hewalked along at her side. 'Not but it's time, too. You were born in theSeptember of 1809, though your mother used to deny it; and you're now ayear older than your father was when he died. '

'Will you take this place?' said Kearney, placing her chair for her. 'We're a small party to-day. I see Dick does not dine with us. '

'Maybe I hunted him away. The young gentlemen of the present day are frankenough to say what they think of old maids. That's very elegant, and I'msure it's refined, ' said she, pointing to the mass of fruit and flowers sotastefully arranged before her. 'But I was born in a time when people likedto see what they were going to eat, Mathew Kearney, and as I don't intendto break my fast on a stockgilly-flower, or make a repast of raisins, Iprefer the old way. Fill up my glass whenever it's empty, ' said she to theservant, 'and don't bother me with the name of it. As long as I know theKing's County, and that's more than fifty years, we've been calling CapeMadeira, Sherry!'

'If we know what we are drinking, Miss O'Shea, I don't suppose it mattersmuch. '

'Nothing at all, Mathew. Calling you the Viscount Kilgobbin, as I read awhile ago, won't confuse me about an old neighbour. '

'Won't you try a cutlet, godmother?' asked Kate hurriedly. 

'Indeed I will, my dear. I don't know why I was sending the man away. Inever saw this way of dining before, except at the poorhouse, where eachpoor creature has his plateful given him, and pockets what he can't eat. 'And here she laughed long and heartily at the conceit. 

Kearney's good-humour relished the absurdity, and he joined in the laugh, while Nina stared at the old woman as an object of dread and terror. 

'And that boy that wouldn't dine with us. How is he turning out, Mathew?They tell me he's a bit of a scamp. '

'He's no such thing, godmother. Dick is as good a fellow and asright-minded as ever lived, and you yourself would be the first to say itif you saw him, ' cried Kate angrily. 

'So would the young lady yonder, if I might judge from her blushes, ' saidMiss Betty, looking at Nina. 'Not indeed but it's only now I'm rememberingthat you're not a boy. That little red cap and that thing you wear roundyour throat deceived me. '

'It is not the lot of every one to be so fortunate in a head-dress as MissO'Shea, ' said Nina, very calmly. 

'If it's my wig you are envying me, my dear, ' replied she quietly, 'there'snothing easier than to have the own brother of it. It was made by Crimp, ofNassau Street, and box and all cost four pound twelve. '

'Upon my life, Miss Betty, ' broke in Kearney, 'you are tempting me to anextravagance. ' And he passed his hand over his sparsely-covered head as hespoke. 

'And I would not, if I was you, Mathew Kearney, ' said she resolutely. 'Theytell me that in that House of Lords you are going to, more than half ofthem are bald. '

There was no possible doubt that she meant by this speech to deliver achallenge, and Kate's look, at once imploring and sorrowful, appealed toher for mercy. 

'No, thank you, ' said Miss Betty to the servant who presented a dish, 'though, indeed, maybe I'm wrong, for I don't know what's coming. '

'This is the _menu_, ' said Nina, handing a card to her. 

'The bill of fare, godmother, ' said Kate hastily. 

'Well, indeed, it's a kindness to tell me, and if there is any morenovelties to follow, perhaps you'll be kind enough to inform me, for Inever dined in the Greek fashion before. '

'The Russian, I believe, madam, not the Greek, ' said Nina. 

'With all my heart, my dear. It's about the same, for whatever may happento Mathew Kearney or myself, I don't suspect either of us will go to liveat Moscow. '

'You'll not refuse a glass of port with your cheese?' said Kearney. 

'Indeed I will, then, if there's any beer in the house, though perhaps it'stoo vulgar a liquor to ask for. '

While the beer was being brought, a solemn silence ensued, and a lesscomfortable party could not easily be imagined. 

When the interval had been so far prolonged that Kearney himself saw thenecessity to do something, he placed his napkin on the table, leanedforward with a half-motion of rising, and, addressing Miss Betty, said, 'Shall we adjourn to the drawing-room and take our coffee?'

'I'd rather stay where I am, Mathew Kearney, and have that glass of portyou offered me a while ago, for the beer was flat. Not that I'll detain theyoung people, nor keep yourself away from them very long. '

When the two girls withdrew, Nina's look of insolent triumph at Katebetrayed the tone she was soon to take in treating of the old lady's goodmanners. 

'You had a very sorry dinner, Miss Betty, but I can promise you an honestglass of wine, ' said Kearney, filling her glass. 

'It's very nice, ' said she, sipping it, 'though, maybe, like myself, it'sjust a trifle too old. '

'A good fault, Miss Betty, a good fault. '

'For the wine, perhaps, ' said she dryly, 'but maybe it would taste betterif I had not bought it so dearly. '

'I don't think I understand you. '

'I was about to say that I have forfeited that young lady's esteem by theway I obtained it. She'll never forgive me, instead of retiring for mycoffee, sitting here like a man--and a man of that old hard-drinkingschool, Mathew, that has brought all the ruin on Ireland. '

'Here's to their memory, anyway, ' said Kearney, drinking off his glass. 

'I'll drink no toasts nor sentiments, Mathew Kearney, and there's noartifice or roguery will make me forget I'm a woman and an O'Shea. '

'Faix, you'll not catch me forgetting either, ' said Mathew, with a drolltwinkle of his eye, which it was just as fortunate escaped her notice. 

'I doubted for a long time, Mathew Kearney, whether I'd come over myself, or whether I 'd write you a letter; not that I'm good at writing, but, somehow, one can put their ideas more clear, and say things in a way thatwill fix them more in the mind; but at last I determined I'd come, thoughit's more than likely it's the last time Kilgobbin will see me here. '

'I sincerely trust you are mistaken, so far. '

'Well, Mathew, I'm not often mistaken! The woman that has managed an estatefor more than forty years, been her own land-steward and her own law-agent, doesn't make a great many blunders; and, as I said before, if Mathew has nofriend to tell him the truth among the men of his acquaintance, it's wellthat there is a woman to the fore, who has courage and good sense to go upand do it. '

She looked fixedly at him, as though expecting some concurrence in theremark, if not some intimation to proceed; but neither came, and shecontinued. 

'I suppose you don't read the Dublin newspapers?' said she civilly. 

'I do, and every day the post brings them. '

'You see, therefore, without my telling you, what the world is saying aboutyou. You see how they treat "the search for arms, " as they head it, and"the Maid of Saragossa!" O Mathew Kearney! Mathew Kearney! whateverhappened the old stock of the land, they never made themselves ridiculous. '

'Have you done, Miss Betty?' asked he, with assumed calm. 

'Done! Why, it's only beginning I am, ' cried she. 'Not but I'd bear a dealof blackguarding from the press--as the old woman said when the soldierthreatened to run his bayonet through her: "Devil thank you, it's only yourtrade. " But when we come to see the head of an old family making ducks anddrakes of his family property, threatening the old tenants that have beenon the land as long as his own people, raising the rent here, evictingthere, distressing the people's minds when they've just as much as they canto bear up with--then it's time for an old friend and neighbour to give atimely warning, and cry "Stop. '"

'Have you done, Miss Betty?' And now his voice was more stern than before. 

'I have not, nor near done, Mathew Kearney. I've said nothing of the wayyou're bringing up your family--that son, in particular--to make him thinkhimself a young man of fortune, when you know, in your heart, you'll leavehim little more than the mortgages on the estate. I have not told youthat it's one of the jokes of the capital to call him the Honourable DickKearney, and to ask him after his father the viscount. '

'You haven't done yet, Miss O'Shea?' said he, now with a thickened voice. 

'No, not yet, ' replied she calmly--'not yet; for I'd like to remind youof the way you're behaving to the best of the whole of you--the only one, indeed, that's worth much in the family--your daughter Kate. '

'Well, what have I done to wrong _her_?' said he, carried beyond hisprudence by so astounding a charge. 

'The very worst you could do, Mathew Kearney; the only mischief it was inyour power, maybe. Look at the companion you have given her! Look at therespectable young lady you've brought home to live with your decent child!'

'You'll not stop?' cried he, almost choking with passion. 

'Not till I've told you why I came here, Mathew Kearney; for I'd beg you tounderstand it was no interest about yourself or your doings brought me. I came to tell you that I mean to be free about an old contract we oncemade--that I revoke it all. I was fool enough to believe that an alliancebetween our families would have made me entirely happy, and my nephewGorman O'Shea was brought up to think the same. I have lived to knowbetter, Mathew Kearney: I have lived to see that we don't suit each otherat all, and I have come here to declare to you formally that it's all off. No nephew of mine shall come here for a wife. The heir to Shea's Barnshan't bring the mistress of it out of Kilgobbin Castle. '

'Trust _me_ for that, old lady, ' cried he, forgetting all his good mannersin his violent passion. 

'You'll be all the freer to catch a young aide-de-camp from the Castle, 'said she sneeringly; 'or maybe, indeed, a young lord--a rank equal to yourown. '

'Haven't you said enough?' screamed he, wild with rage. 

'No, nor half, or you wouldn't be standing there, wringing your hands withpassion and your hair bristling like a porcupine. You'd be at my feet, Mathew Kearney--ay, at my feet. '

'So I would, Miss Betty, ' chimed he in, with a malicious grin, 'if I wasonly sure you'd be as cruel as the last time I knelt there. Oh dear! ohdear! and to think that I once wanted to marry that woman!'

'That you did! You'd have put your hand in the fire to win her. '

'By my conscience, I'd have put myself altogether there, if I had won her. '

'You understand now, sir, ' said she haughtily, 'that there's no morebetween us. '

'Thank God for the same!' ejaculated he fervently. 

'And that no nephew of mine comes courting a daughter of yours?'

'For his own sake, he'd better not. '

'It's for his own sake I intend it, Mathew Kearney. It's of himself I'mthinking. And now, thanking you for the pleasant evening I've passed, andyour charming society, I'll take my leave. '

'I hope you'll not rob us of your company till you take a dish of tea, 'said he, with well-feigned politeness. 

'It's hard to tear one's self away, Mr. Kearney; but it's late already. '

'Couldn't we induce you to stop the night, Miss Betty?' asked he, in a toneof insinuation. 'Well, at least you'll let me ring to order your horse?'

'You may do that if it amuses you, Mathew Kearney; but, meanwhile, I'lljust do what I've always done in the same place--I'll just go look for myown beast and see her saddled myself; and as Peter Gill is leaving youto-morrow, I'll take him back with me to-night. '

'Is he going to you?' cried he passionately. 

'He's going to _me_, Mr. Kearney, with your leave, or without it, I don'tknow which I like best. ' And with this she swept out of the room, whileKearney closed his eyes and lay back in his chair, stunned and almoststupefied. 

CHAPTER XXII

A CONFIDENTIAL TALK

Dick Kearney walked the bog from early morning till dark without firing ashot. The snipe rose almost at his feet, and wheeling in circles throughthe air, dipped again into some dark crevice of the waste, unnoticed byhim! One thought only possessed, and never left him, as he went. He hadoverheard Nina's words to his sister, as he made his escape over the fence, and learned how she promised to 'spare him'; and that if not worried abouthim, or asked to pledge herself, she should be 'merciful, ' and not entanglethe boy in a hopeless passion. 

He would have liked to have scoffed at the insolence of this speech, andtreated it as a trait of overweening vanity; he would have gladly acceptedher pity as a sort of challenge, and said, 'Be it so; let us see who willcome safest out of this encounter, ' and yet he felt in his heart he couldnot. 

First of all, her beauty had really dazzled him, and the thousand gracesof a manner of which he had known nothing captivated and almost bewilderedhim. He could not reply to her in the same tone he used to any other. Ifhe fetched her a book or a chair, he gave it with a sort of deference thatactually reacted on himself, and made him more gentle and more courteous, for the time. 'What would this influence end in making me?' was hisquestion to himself. 'Should I gain in sentiment or feeling? Should I havehigher and nobler aims? Should I be anything of that she herself describedso glowingly, or should I only sink to a weak desire to be her slave, andask for nothing better than some slight recognition of my devotion? I takeit that she would say the choice lay with _her_, and that I should be theone or the other as she willed it, and though I would give much to believeher wrong, my heart tells me that I cannot. I came down here resolved toresist any influence she might attempt to have over me. Her likenessshowed me how beautiful she was, but it could not tell me the dangerousfascination of her low liquid voice, her half-playful, half-melancholysmile, and that bewitching walk, with all its stately grace, so that everyfold as she moves sends its own thrill of ecstasy. And now that I know allthese, see and feel them, I am told that to me they can bring no hope! ThatI am too poor, too ignoble, too undistinguished, to raise my eyes to suchattraction. I am nothing, and must live and die nothing. 

'She is candid enough, at all events. There is no rhapsody about her whenshe talks of poverty. She chronicles every stage of the misery, as thoughshe had felt them all; and how unlike it she looks! There is an almostinsolent well-being about her that puzzles me. She will not heed this, orsuffer that, because it looks mean. Is this the subtle worship she offersWealth, and is it thus she offers up her prayer to Fortune?

'But why should she assume I must be her slave?' cried he aloud, in a sortof defiance. 'I have shown her no such preference, nor made any advancesthat would show I want to win her favour. Without denying that she isbeautiful, is it so certain it is the kind of beauty I admire? She hasscores of fascinations--I do not deny it; but should I say that I trusther? And if I should trust her and love her too, where must it all end in?I do not believe in her theory that love will transform a fellow of mymould into a hero, not to say that I have my own doubt if she herselfbelieves it. I wonder if Kate reads her more clearly? Girls so oftenunderstand each other by traits we have no clue to; and it was Kate whoasked her, almost in tone of entreaty, "to spare me, " to save me from ahopeless passion, just as though I were some peasant-boy who had set hisaffection on a princess. Is that the way, then, the world would read ourrespective conditions? The son of a ruined house or the guest of a beggaredfamily leaves little to choose between! Kate--the world--would call my lotthe better of the two. The man's chance is not irretrievable, at least suchis the theory. Those half-dozen fellows, who in a century or so contriveto work their way up to something, make a sort of precedent, and tell theothers what they might be if they but knew how. 

'I'm not vain enough to suppose I am one of these, and it is quite plainthat she does not think me so. ' He pondered long over this thought, andthen suddenly cried aloud, 'Is it possible she may read Joe Atlee in thisfashion? is that the stuff out of which she hopes to make a hero?' Therewas more bitterness in this thought than he had first imagined, and therewas that of jealousy in it too that pained him deeply. 

Had she preferred either of the two Englishmen to himself, he could haveunderstood and, in a measure, accepted it. They were, as he called them, 'swells. ' They might become, he knew not what. The career of the Saxonin fortune was a thing incommensurable by Irish ideas; but Joe was likehimself, or in reality less than himself, in worldly advantages. 

This pang of jealousy was very bitter; but still it served to stimulate himand rouse him from a depression that was gaining fast upon him. It is true, he remembered she had spoken slightingly of Joe Atlee. Called him noisy, pretentious, even vulgar; snubbed him openly on more than one occasion, andseemed to like to turn the laugh against him; but with all that she hadsung duets with him, corrected some Italian verses he wrote, and actuallymade a little sketch in his note-book for him as a souvenir. A souvenir!and of what? Not of the ridicule she had turned upon him! not the jest shehad made upon his boastfulness. Now which of these two did this argue: wasthis levity, or was it falsehood? Was she so little mindful of honesty thatshe would show these signs of favour to one she held most cheaply, or wasit that her distaste to this man was mere pretence, and only assumed todeceive others. 

After all, Joe Atlee was a nobody; flattery might call him an adventurer, but he was not even so much. Amongst the men of the dangerous party hemixed with he was careful never to compromise himself. He might write thesongs of rebellion, but he was little likely to tamper with treason itself. So much he would tell her when he got back. Not angrily, nor passionately, for that would betray him and disclose his jealousy, but in the tone of aman revealing something he regretted--confessing to the blemish of onehe would have liked better to speak well of. There was not, he thought, anything unfair in this. He was but warning her against a man who wasunworthy of her. Unworthy of her! What words could express the disparitybetween them? Not but if she liked him--and this he said with a certainbitterness--or thought she liked him, the disproportion already ceased toexist. 

Hour after hour of that long summer day he walked, revolving such thoughtsas these; all his conclusions tending to the one point, that _he_ was notthe easy victim she thought him, and that, come what might, _he_ should notbe offered up as a sacrifice to her worship of Joe Atlee. 

'There is nothing would gratify the fellow's vanity, ' thought he, 'like asuccessful rivalry of him! Tell him he was preferred to me, and he would beready to fall down and worship whoever had made the choice. '

By dwelling on all the possible and impossible issues of such anattachment, he had at length convinced himself of its existence, and evenmore, persuaded himself to fancy it was something to be regretted andgrieved over for worldly considerations, but not in any way regarded aspersonally unpleasant. 

As he came in sight of home and saw a light in the small tower where Kate'sbedroom lay, he determined he would go up to his sister and tell her somuch of his mind as he believed was finally settled, and in such a way aswould certainly lead her to repeat it to Nina. 

'Kate shall tell her that if I have left her suddenly and gone backto Trinity to keep my term, I have not fled the field in a moment offaint-heartedness. I do not deny her beauty. I do not disparage one of herattractions, and she has scores of them. I will not even say that when Ihave sat beside her, heard her low soft voice, and watched the tremor ofthat lovely mouth vibrating with wit, or tremulous with feeling, I havebeen all indifference; but this I will say, she shall not number _me_amongst the victims of her fascinations; and when she counts the trinketson her wrist that record the hearts she has broken--a pastime I oncewitnessed--not one of them shall record the initial of Dick Kearney. '

[Illustration: Kate, still dressed, had thrown herself on the bed, and wassound asleep]

With these brave words he mounted the narrow stair and knocked at hissister's door. No answer coming, he knocked again, and after waiting a fewseconds, he slowly opened the door and saw that Kate, still dressed, hadthrown herself on her bed, and was sound asleep. The table was covered withaccount-books and papers; tax-receipts, law-notices, and tenants' letterslay littered about, showing what had been the task she was last engaged on;and her heavy breathing told the exhaustion which it had left behind it. 

'I wish I could help her with her work, ' muttered he to himself, as a pangof self-reproach shot through him. This certainly should have been his owntask rather than hers; the question was, however, Could he have done it?And this doubt increased as he looked over the long column of tenants'names, whose holdings varied in every imaginable quantity of acres, roods, and perches. Besides these there were innumerable small details ofallowances for this and compensation for that. This one had given so manydays' horse-and-car hire at the bog; that other had got advances 'inseed-potatoes'; such a one had a claim for reduced rent, because themill-race had overflowed and deluged his wheat crop; such another had fedtwo pigs of 'the lord's' and fattened them, while himself and his own werenigh starving. 

Through an entire column there was not one case without its complication, either in the shape of argument for increased liability or claim forcompensation. It was makeshift everywhere, and Dick could not but askhimself whether any tenant on the estate really knew how far he washopelessly in debt or a solvent man? It only needed Peter Gill's peculiarmode of collecting the moneys due, and recording the payment by the notchedstick, to make the complication perfect; and there, indeed, upon the table, amid accounts and bills and sale warrants, lay the memorable bits of woodthemselves, as that worthy steward had deposited them before quitting hismaster's service. 

Peter's character, too, written out in Kate's hand, and only awaiting herfather's signature, was on the table--the first intimation Dick Kearney hadthat old Gill had quitted his post. 

'All this must have occurred to-day, ' thought Dick; 'there were noevidences of these changes when I left this morning! Was it the backwaterof my disgrace, I wonder, that has overwhelmed poor Gill?' thought he, 'orcan I detect Miss Betty's fine Roman hand in this incident?'

In proportion to the little love he bore Miss O'Shea, were his convictionsthe stronger that she was the cause of all mischief. She was one of thosewho took very 'utilitarian' notions of his own career, and he bore hersmall gratitude for the solicitude. There were short sentences in pencilalong the margin of the chief book in Kate's handwriting which could notfail to strike him as he read them, indicating as they did her difficulty, if not utter incapacity, to deal with the condition of the estate. Thus:--

'There is no warranty for this concession. It cannot be continued. '--'Thenotice in this case was duly served, and Gill knows that it was to papa'sgenerosity they were indebted for remaining. '--'These arrears have neverbeen paid, on that point I am positive!'--'Malone's holding was notfairly measured, he has a just claim to compensation, and shall haveit. '--'Hannigan's right to tenancy must not be disputed, but cannot be usedas a precedent by others on the same part of the estate, and I will statewhy. '--'More of Peter Gill's conciliatory policy! The Regans, for havingbeen twice in gaol, and once indicted, and nearly convicted of Ribbonism, have established a claim to live rent-free! This I will promise torectify. '--'I shall make no more allowances for improvements without aguarantee, and a penalty besides on non-completion. '

And last of all came these ominous words:--

'It will thus be seen that our rent-roll since '64 has been progressivelydecreasing, and that we have only been able to supply our expenses by salesof property. Dick must be spoken to on this, and at once. '

Several entries had been already rubbed out, and it was clear that she hadbeen occupied in the task of erasion on that very night. Poor girl! hersleep was the heavy repose of one utterly exhausted; and her closelyclasped lips and corrugated brow showed in what frame of intense thoughtshe had sunk to rest. He closed the book noiselessly, as he looked at her, replaced the various objects on the table, and rose to steal quietly away. 

The accidental movement of a chair, however, startled her; she turned, andleaning on her elbow, she saw him as he tried to move away. 'Don't go, Dick, don't go. I'm awake, and quite fresh again. Is it late?'

'It's not far from one o'clock, ' said he, half-roughly, to hide hisemotion; for her worn and wearied features struck him now more forciblythan when she slept. 

'And are you only returned now? How hungry you must be. Poor fellow--haveyou dined to-day?'

'Yes; I got to Owen Molloy's as they were straining the potatoes, and satdown with them, and ate very heartily too. '

'Weren't they proud of it? Won't they tell how the young lord shared theirmeal with them?'

'I don't think they are as cordial as they used to be, Kate; they did nottalk so openly, nor seem at their ease, as I once knew them. And they didone thing, significant enough in its way, that I did not like. They quotedthe county newspaper twice or thrice when we talked of the land. '

'I am aware of that, Dick; they have got other counsellors than theirlandlords now, ' said she mournfully, 'and it is our own fault if theyhave. '

'What, are you turning Nationalist, Kitty?' said he, laughing. 

'I was always a Nationalist in one sense, ' said she, 'and mean to continueso; but let us not get upon this theme. Do you know that Peter Gill hasleft us?'

'What, for America?'

'No; for "O'Shea's Barn. " Miss Betty has taken him. She came here to-day to"have it out" with papa, as she said; and she has kept her word. Indeed, not alone with him, but with all of us--even Nina did not escape. '

'Insufferable old woman. What did she dare to say to Nina?'

'She got off the cheapest of us all, Dick, ' said she, laughing. 'It wasonly some stupid remark she made her about looking like a boy, or beingdressed like a rope-dancer. A small civility of this sort was her share ofthe general attention. '

'And how did Nina take the insolence?'

'With great good-temper, or good-breeding. I don't know exactly whichcovered the indifference she displayed, till Miss Betty, when taking herleave, renewed the impertinence in the hall, by saying something about thetriumphant success such a costume would achieve in the circus, when Ninacurtsied, and said: "I am charmed to hear you say so, madam, and shall wearit for my benefit; and if I could only secure the appearance of yourselfand your little groom, my triumph would be, indeed, complete. " I did notdare to wait for more, but hurried out to affect to busy myself with thesaddle, and pretend that it was not tightly girthed. '

'I'd have given twenty pounds, if I had it, to have seen the old woman'sface. No one ever ventured before to pay her back with her own money. '

'But I give you such a wrong version of it, Dick. I only convey thecoarseness of the rejoinder, and I can give you no idea of the ineffablegrace and delicacy which made her words sound like a humble apology. Hereyelids drooped as she curtsied, and when she looked up again, in a waythat seemed humility itself, to have reproved her would have appeareddownright cruelty. '

'She is a finished coquette, ' said he bitterly; 'a finished coquette. '

Kate made no answer, though he evidently expected one; and after waiting awhile, he went on: 'Not but her high accomplishments are clean thrown awayin such a place as this, and amongst such people. What chance of fittingexercise have they with my father or myself? Or is it on Joe Atlee shewould try the range of her artillery?'

'Not so very impossible this, after all, ' muttered Kate quietly. 

'What, and is it to _that_ her high ambitions tend? Is _he_ the prize shewould strive to win?'

'I can be no guide to you in this matter, Dick. She makes no confidenceswith me, and of myself I see nothing. '

'You have, however, some influence over her. '

'No; not much. '

'I did not say much; but enough to induce her to yield to a strongentreaty, as when, for instance, you implored her to spare yourbrother--that poor fellow about to fall so hopelessly in love--'

'I'm not sure that my request did not come too late after all, ' said she, with a laughing malice in her eye. 

'Don't be too sure of that, ' retorted he, almost fiercely. 

'Oh, I never bargained for what you might do in a moment of passion orresentment. '

'There is neither one nor the other here. I am perfectly cool, calm, andcollected, and I tell you this, that whoever your pretty Greek friend is tomake a fool of, it shall not be Dick Kearney. '

'It might be very nice fooling, all the same, Dick. '

'I know--that is, I believe I know--what you mean. You have listened tosome of those high heroics she ascends to in showing what the exaltationof a great passion can make of any man who has a breast capable of theemotion, and you want to see the experiment tried in its least favourableconditions--on a cold, soulless, selfish fellow of my own order; but, takemy word for it, Kate, it would prove a sheer loss of time to us both. Whatever she might make of me, it would not be a _hero_; and whatever Ishould strive for, it would not be her _love_. '

'I don't think I'd say that if I were a man. '

He made no answer to these words, but arose and walked the room with hastysteps. 'It was not about these things I came here to talk to you, Kitty, 'said he earnestly. 'I had my head full of other things, and now I cannotremember them. Only one occurs to me. Have you got any money? I mean a meretrifle--enough to pay my fare to town?'

'To be sure I have that much, Dick; but you are surely not going to leaveus?'

'Yes. I suddenly remembered I must be up for the last day of term inTrinity. Knocking about here--I'll scarcely say amusing myself--I hadforgotten all about it. Atlee used to jog my memory on these things when hewas near me, and now, being away, I have contrived to let the whole escapeme. You can help me, however, with a few pounds?'

'I have got five of my own, Dick; but if you want more--'

'No, no; I'll borrow the five of your own, and don't blend it with more, orI may cease to regard it as a debt of honour. '

'And if you should, my poor dear Dick--'

'I'd be only pretty much what I have ever been, but scarcely wish to be anylonger, ' and he added the last words in a whisper. 'It's only to be a briefabsence, Kitty, ' said he, kissing her; 'so say good-bye for me to theothers, and that I shall be soon back again. '

'Shall I kiss Nina for you, Dick?'

'Do; and tell her that I gave you the same commission for Miss O'Shea, andwas grieved that both should have been done by deputy!'

And with this he hurried away. 

CHAPTER XXIII

A HAPHAZARD VICEROY

When the Government came into office, they were sorely puzzled where tofind a Lord-Lieutenant for Ireland. It is, unhappily, a post that the menmost fitted for generally refuse, while the Cabinet is besieged by a classof applicants whose highest qualification is a taste for mock-royaltycombined with an encumbered estate. 

Another great requisite, beside fortune and a certain amount of ability, was at this time looked for. The Premier was about, as newspapers call it, 'to inaugurate a new policy, ' and he wanted a man who knew nothing aboutIreland! Now, it might be carelessly imagined that here was one of thoseessentials very easily supplied. Any man frequenting club-life or diningout in town could have safely pledged himself to tell off a score or twoof eligible Viceroys, so far as this qualification went. The Minister, however, wanted more than mere ignorance: he wanted that sort ofindifference on which a character for impartiality could so easily beconstructed. Not alone a man unacquainted with Ireland, but actuallyincapable of being influenced by an Irish motive or affected by an Irishview of anything. 

Good-luck would have it that he met such a man at dinner. He was anambassador at Constantinople, on leave from his post, and so utterly deadto Irish topics as to be uncertain whether O'Donovan Rossa was a Fenianor a Queen's Counsel, and whether he whom he had read of as the 'Lion ofJudah' was the king of beasts or the Archbishop of Tuam!

The Minister was pleased with his new acquaintance, and talked much to him, and long. He talked well, and not the less well that his listener was afresh audience, who heard everything for the first time, and with all theinterest that attaches to a new topic. Lord Danesbury was, indeed, that'sheet of white paper' the head of the Cabinet had long been searching for, and he hastened to inscribe him with the characters he wished. 

'You must go to Ireland for me, my lord, ' said the Minister. 'I have metno one as yet so rightly imbued with the necessities of the situation. Youmust be our Viceroy. '

Now, though a very high post and with great surroundings, Lord Danesburyhad no desire to exchange his position as an ambassador, even to become aLord-Lieutenant. Like most men who have passed their lives abroad, he grewto like the ways and habits of the Continent. He liked the easy indulgencesin many things, he liked the cosmopolitanism that surrounds existence, andeven in its littleness is not devoid of a certain breadth; and best of allhe liked the vast interests at stake, the large questions at issue, thefortunes of states, the fate of dynasties! To come down from the greatgame, as played by kings and kaisers, to the small traffic of a localgovernment wrangling over a road-bill, or disputing over a harbour, seemedtoo horrible to confront, and he eagerly begged the Minister to allow himto return to his post, and not risk a hard-earned reputation on a new anduntried career. 

'It is precisely from the fact of its being new and untried I need you, 'was the reply, and his denial was not accepted. 

Refusal was impossible; and with all the reluctance a man consents to whathis convictions are more opposed to even than his reasons, Lord Danesburygave in, and accepted the viceroyalty of Ireland. 

He was deferential to humility in listening to the great aims and nobleconceptions of the mighty Minister, and pledged himself--as he could safelydo--to become as plastic as wax in the powerful hands which were about toremodel Ireland. 

He was gazetted in due course, went over to Dublin, made a state entrance, received the usual deputations, complimented every one, from the Provost ofTrinity College to the Chief Commissioner of Pipewater; praised the coast, the corporation, and the city; declared that he had at length reached thehighest goal of his ambition; entertained the high dignitaries at dinner, and the week after retired to his ancestral seat in North Wales, to recruitafter his late fatigue, and throw off the effects of that damp, moistclimate which already he fancied had affected him. 

He had been sworn in with every solemnity of the occasion; he had sat onthe throne of state, named the officers of his household, made a master ofthe horse, and a state steward, and a grand chamberlain; and, till stoppedby hearing that he could not create ladies and maids of honour, he fanciedhimself every inch a king; but now that he had got over to the tranquilquietude of his mountain home, his thoughts went away to the old channels, and he began to dream of the Russians in the Balkan and the Greeks inThessaly. Of all the precious schemes that had taken him months to weave, what was to come of them _now_? How and with what would his successor, whoever he should be, oppose the rogueries of Sumayloff or the chicanery ofIgnatief? what would any man not trained to the especial watchfulness ofthis subtle game know of the steps by which men advanced? Who was to watchBulgaria and see how far Russian gold was embellishing the life of Athens?There was not a hungry agent that lounged about the Russian embassy inGreek petticoats and pistols whose photograph the English ambassador didnot possess, with a biographical note at the back to tell the fellow's nameand birthplace, what he was meant for, and what he cost. Of every interviewof his countrymen with the Grand-Vizier he was kept fully informed, andwhether a forage magazine was established on the Pruth, or a new frigatelaid down at Nickolief, the news reached him by the time it arrived at St. Petersburg. It is true he was aware how hopeless it was to write home aboutthese things. The ambassador who writes disagreeable despatches is a boreor an old woman. He who dares to shake the security by which we daily boastwe are surrounded, is an alarmist, if not worse. Notwithstanding this, heheld his cards well 'up' and played them shrewdly. And now he was to turnfrom this crafty game, with all its excitement, to pore over constabularyreports and snub justices of the peace!

But there was worse than this. There was an Albanian spy who had been muchemployed by him of late, a clever fellow, with access to society, and greatfacilities for obtaining information. Seeing that Lord Danesbury should notreturn to the embassy, would this fellow go over to the enemy? If so, therewere no words for the mischief he might effect. By a subordinate positionin a Greek government-office, he had often been selected to conveydespatches to Constantinople, and it was in this way his lordship firstmet him; and as the fellow frankly presented himself with a very momentouspiece of news, he at once showed how he trusted to British faith not tobetray him. It was not alone the incalculable mischief such a man might doby change of allegiance, but the whole fabric on which Lord Danesbury'sreputation rested was in this man's keeping; and of all that wondrousprescience on which he used to pride himself before the world, all theskill with which he baffled an adversary, and all the tact with which heoverwhelmed a colleague, this same 'Speridionides' could give the secretand show the trick. 

How much more constantly, then, did his lordship's thoughts revert to theBosporus than the Liffey! all this home news was mean, commonplace, andvulgar. The whole drama--scenery, actors, plot--all were low and ignoble;and as for this 'something that was to be done for Ireland, ' it would ofcourse be some slowly germinating policy to take root now, and blossom inanother half-century: one of those blessed parliamentary enactments whichmen who dealt in heroic remedies like himself regarded as the chronicplacebo of the political quack. 

'I am well aware, ' cried he aloud, 'for what they are sending me over. I amto "make a case" in Ireland for a political legislation, and the bill isalready drawn and ready; and while I am demonstrating to Irish Churchmenthat they will be more pious without a religion, and the landlords richerwithout rent, the Russians will be mounting guard at the Golden Horn, andthe last British squadron steaming down the Levant. '

It was in a temper kindled by these reflections he wrote this note:--

PLMNUDDM CASTLE, NORTH WALES. 

'DEAR WALPOLE, --I can make nothing out of the papers you have sent me; noram I able to discriminate between what you admit to be newspaper slanderand the attack on the castle with the unspeakable name. At all events, youraccount is far too graphic for the Treasury lords, who have less of thepictorial about them than Mr. Mudie's subscribers. If the Irish peasantsare so impatient to assume their rights that they will not wait for the"Hatt-Houmaïoun, " or Bill in Parliament that is to endow them, I suspect alittle further show of energy might save us a debate and a third reading. Iam, however, far more eager for news from Therapia. Tolstai has been twiceover with despatches; and Boustikoff, pretending to have sprained hisankle, cannot leave Odessa, though I have ascertained that he has laid downnew lines of fortification, and walked over twelve miles per day. You mayhave heard of the great "Speridionides, " a scoundrel that supplied me withintelligence. I should like much to get him over here while I am on myleave, confer with him, and, if possible, save him _from the necessity ofother engagements_. It is not every one could be trusted to deal with a manof this stamp, nor would the fellow himself easily hold relations with anybut a gentleman. Are you sufficiently recovered from your sprained arm toundertake this journey for me? If so, come over at once, that I may giveyou all necessary indications as to the man and his whereabouts. 

'Maude has been "on the sick-list, " but is better, and able to ride outto-day. I cannot fill the law-appointments till I go over, nor shall I goover till I cannot help it. The Cabinet is scattered over the Scotch lakes. C. Alone in town, and preparing for the War Ministry by practising thegoose-step. Telegraph, if possible, that you are coming, and believe meyours, DANESBURY. '

CHAPTER XXIV

TWO FRIENDS AT BREAKFAST

Irishmen may reasonably enough travel for climate, they need scarcely goabroad in search of scenery. Within even a very short distance from thecapital, there are landscapes which, for form, outline, and colour, equalsome of the most celebrated spots of continental beauty. 

One of these is the view from Bray Head over the wide expanse of the Bay ofDublin, with Howth and Lambay in the far distance. Nearer at hand lies thesweep of that graceful shore to Killiney, with the Dalky Islands dottingthe calm sea; while inland, in wild confusion, are grouped the WicklowMountains, massive with wood and teeming with a rich luxuriance. 

When sunlight and stillness spread colour over the blue mirror of thesea--as is essential to the scene--I know of nothing, not even Naples orAmalfi, can surpass this marvellous picture. 

It was on a terrace that commanded this view that Walpole and Atlee satat breakfast on a calm autumnal morning; the white-sailed boats scarcelycreeping over their shadows; and the whole scene, in its silence andsoftened effect, presenting a picture of almost rapturous tranquillity. 

'With half-a-dozen days like this, ' said Atlee, as he smoked his cigarette, in a sort of languid grace, 'one would not say O'Connell was wrong in hisglowing admiration for Irish scenery. If I were to awake every day for aweek to this, I suspect I should grow somewhat crazy myself about the greenisland. '

'And dash the description with a little treason too, ' said the othersuperciliously. 'I have always remarked the ingenious connection with whichIrishmen bind up a love of the picturesque with a hate of the Saxon. '

'Why not? They are bound together in the same romance. Can you look on theParthenon and not think of the Turk?'

'Apropos of the Turk, ' said the other, laying his hand on a folded letterwhich lay before him, 'here's a long letter from Lord Danesbury about thatwearisome "Eastern question, " as they call the ten thousand issues thatawait the solution of the Bosporus. Do you take interest in these things. '

'Immensely. After I have blown myself with a sharp burst on home politics, I always take a canter among the Druses and the Lebanites; and I am suchan authority on the "Grand Idea, " that Rangabe refers to me as "theillustrious statesman whose writings relieve England from the stain ofuniversal ignorance about Greece. "'

'And do you know anything on the subject?'

'About as much as the present Cabinet does of Ireland. I know all theclap-traps: the grand traditions that have sunk down into a presentbarbarism--of course, through ill government; the noble instincts depravedby gross usage; I know the inherent love of freedom we cherish, which makesmen resent rents as well as laws, and teaches that taxes are as great atyranny as the rights of property. '

'And do the Greeks take this view of it?'

'Of course they do; and it was in experimenting on them that your greatMinisters learned how to deal with Ireland. There was but one step fromThebes to Tipperary. Corfu was "pacified"--that's the phrase for it--byabolishing the landlords. The peasants were told they might spare a littleif they liked to the ancient possessor of the soil; and so they took theground, and they gave him the olive-trees. You may imagine how fertilethese were, when the soil around them was utilised to the last fraction ofproductiveness. '

'Is that a fair statement of the case?'

'Can you ask the question? I'll show it to you in print. '

'Perhaps written by yourself?'

'And why not? What convictions have not broken on my mind by reading my ownwritings? You smile at this; but how do you know your face is clean tillyou look in a glass?'

Walpole, however, had ceased to attend to the speaker, and was deeplyengaged with the letter before him. 

'I see here, ' cried he, 'his Excellency is good enough to say that somemark of royal favour might be advantageously extended to those Kilgobbinpeople, in recognition of their heroic defence. What should it be, is thequestion. '

'Confer on him the peerage, perhaps. '

'That is totally out of the question. '

'It was Kate Kearney made the defence; why not give her a commission in thearmy?--make it another "woman's right. "'

'You are absurd, Mr. Atlee. '

'Suppose you endowed her out of the Consolidated Fund? Give her twentythousand pounds, and I can almost assure you that a very clever fellow Iknow will marry her. '

'A strange reward for good conduct. '

'A prize of virtue. They have that sort of thing in France, and they say itgives a great support to purity of morals. '

'Young Kearney might accept something, if we knew what to offer him. '

'I'd say a pair of black trousers; for I think I'm now wearing his last inthat line. '

'Mr. Atlee, ' said the other grimly, 'let me remind you once again, that thehabit of light jesting--_persiflage_--is so essentially Irish, you shouldkeep it for your countrymen; and if you persist in supposing the career ofa private secretary suits you, this is an incongruity that will totallyunfit you for the walk. '

'I am sure you know your countrymen, sir, and I am grateful for therebuke. '

Walpole's cheek flushed at this, and it was plain that there was a hiddenmeaning in the words which he felt, and resented. 

'I do not know, ' continued Walpole, 'if I am not asking you to curb oneof the strongest impulses of your disposition; but it rests entirely withyourself whether my counsel be worth following. '

'Of course it is, sir. I shall follow your advice to the letter, and keepall my good spirits and my bad manners for my countrymen. '

It was evident that Walpole had to exercise some strong self-control not toreply sharply; but he refrained, and turned once more to Lord Danesbury'sletter, in which he was soon deeply occupied. At last he said: 'HisExcellency wants to send me out to Turkey to confer with a man with whom hehas some confidential relations. It is quite impossible that, in my presentstate of health, I could do this. Would the thing suit you, Atlee--that is, if, on consideration, I should opine that _you_ would suit _it_?'

'I suspect, ' replied Atlee, but with every deference in his manner, 'if youwould entertain the last part of the contingency first, it would be moreconvenient to each of us. I mean whether I were fit for the situation. '

'Well, perhaps so, ' said the other carelessly; 'it is not at allimpossible, it may be one of the things you would acquit yourself well in. It is a sort of exercise for tact and discretion--an occasion in which thatlight hand of yours would have a field for employment, and that acute skillin which I know you pride yourself as regards reading character--'

'You have certainly piqued my curiosity, ' said Atlee. 

'I don't know that I ought to have said so much; for, after all, it remainsto be seen whether Lord Danesbury would estimate these gifts of yours ashighly as I do. What I think of doing is this: I shall send you over to hisExcellency in your capacity as my own private secretary, to explain howunfit I am in my present disabled condition to undertake a journey. I shalltell my lord how useful I have found your services with regard to Ireland, how much you know of the country and the people, and how worthy of trust Ihave found your information and your opinions; and I shall hint--but onlyhint, remember--that, for the mission he speaks of, he might possiblydo worse than fix upon yourself. As, of course, it rests with him to belike-minded with me or not upon this matter--to take, in fact, his ownestimate of Mr. Atlee from his own experiences of him--you are not to knowanything whatever of this project till his Excellency thinks proper to openit to you. You understand that?'

'Thoroughly. '

'Your mission will be to explain--when asked to explain--certaindifficulties of Irish life and habits, and if his lordship should directconversation to topics of the East, to be careful to know nothing of thesubject whatever--mind that. '

'I shall be careful. I have read the _Arabian Nights_--but that's all. '

'And of that tendency to small joking and weak epigram I would also cautionyou to beware; they will have no success in the quarter to which you aregoing, and they will only damage other qualities which you might possiblyrely on. '

Atlee bowed a submissive acquiescence. 

'I don't know that you'll see Lady Maude Bickerstaffe, his lordship'sniece. ' He stopped as if he had unwittingly uttered an awkwardness, andthen added--'I mean she has not been well, and may not appear while you areat the castle; but if you should--and if, which is not at all likely, butstill possible, you should be led to talk of Kilgobbin and the incidentthat has got into the papers, you must be very guarded in all you say. Itis a county family of station and repute. We were there as visitors. Theladies--I don't know that I 'd say very much of the ladies. '

'Except that they were exceedingly plain in looks, and somewhat _passées_besides, ' added Atlee gravely. 

'I don't see why you should say that, sir, ' replied the other stiffly. 'Ifyou are not bent on compromising me by an indiscretion, I don't perceivethe necessity of involving me in a falsehood. '

'You shall be perfectly safe in my hands, ' said Atlee. 

'And that I may be so, say as little about me as you can. I know theinjunction has its difficulties, Mr. Atlee, but pray try and observe it. '

The conversation had now arrived at a point in which one angry word moremust have produced a rupture between them; and though Atlee took in thewhole situation and its consequences at a glance, there was nothing in theeasy jauntiness of his manner that gave any clue to a sense of anxiety ordiscomfort. 

'Is it likely, ' asked he at length, 'that his Excellency will advert to theidea of recognising or rewarding these people for their brave defence?'

'I am coming to that, if you will spare me a little patience: Saxonslowness is a blemish you'll have to grow accustomed to. If Lord Danesburyshould know that you are an acquaintance of the Kilgobbin family, and askyou what would be a suitable mode of showing how their conduct has beenappreciated in a high quarter, you should be prepared with an answer. '

Atlee's eyes twinkled with a malicious drollery, and he had to bite hislips to repress an impertinence that seemed almost to master his prudence, and at last he said carelessly--

'Dick Kearney might get something. '

'I suppose you know that his qualifications will be tested. You bear thatin mind, I hope--'

'Yes. I was just turning it over in my head, and I thought the best thingto do would be to make him a Civil Service Commissioner. They are the onlypeople taken on trust. '

'You are severe, Mr. Atlee. Have these gentlemen earned this dislike onyour part?'

'Do you mean by having rejected me? No, that they have not. I believe Icould have survived that; and if, however, they had come to the point oftelling me that they were content with my acquirements, and what iscalled "passed me, " I fervently believe I should have been seized with anapoplexy. '

'Mr. Atlee's opinion of himself is not a mean one, ' said Walpole, with acold smile. 

'On the contrary, sir, I have occasion to feel pretty often in everytwenty-four hours what an ignominious part a man plays in life who has toaffect to be taught what he knows already--to be asking the road where hehas travelled every step of the way--and to feel that a threadbare coat andbroken boots take more from the value of his opinions than if he were aknave or a blackleg. '

'I don't see the humility of all this. '

'I feel the shame of it, though, ' said Atlee; and as he arose and walkedout upon the terrace, the veins in his forehead were swelled and knotted, and his lips trembled with suppressed passion. 

In a tone that showed how thoroughly indifferent he felt to the other'sirritation, Walpole went on to say: 'You will then make it your business, Mr. Atlee, to ascertain in what way most acceptable to those people atKilgobbin his Excellency may be able to show them some mark of royalfavour--bearing in mind not to commit yourself to anything that may raisegreat expectations. In fact, a recognition is what is intended, not areward. '

Atlee's eyes fell upon the opal ring, which he always wore since the dayWalpole had given it to him, and there was something so significant in theglance that the other flushed as he caught it. 

'I believe I appreciate the distinction, ' said Atlee quietly. 'It is to besomething in which the generosity of the donor is more commemorated thanthe merits of the person rewarded, and, consequently, a most appropriaterecognition of the Celt by the Saxon. Do you think I ought to go down toKilgobbin Castle, sir?'

'I am not quite sure about that; I'll turn it over in my mind. MeanwhileI'll telegraph to my lord that, if he approves, I shall send you over toWales; and you had better make what arrangements you have to make, to beready to start at a moment. '

'Unfortunately, sir, I have none. I am in the full enjoyment of suchcomplete destitution, that I am always ready to go anywhere. '

Walpole did not notice the words, but arose and walked over to awriting-table to compose his message for the telegraph. 

'There, ' said he, as he folded it, 'have the kindness to despatch this atonce, and do not be out of the way about five, or half-past, when I shallexpect an answer. '

'Am I free to go into town meanwhile?' asked Atlee. 

Walpole nodded assent without speaking. 

'I wonder if this sort of flunkeydom be good for a man, ' muttered Atlee tohimself as he sprang down the stairs. 'I begin to doubt it. At all events, I understand now the secret of the first lieutenant's being a tyrant: hehas once been a middy. And so I say, let me only reach the ward-room, andHeaven help the cockpit!'

CHAPTER XXV

ATLEE'S EMBARRASSMENTS

When Atlee returned to dress for dinner, he was sent for hurriedly byWalpole, who told him that Lord Danesbury's answer had arrived with theorder, 'Send him over at once, and write fully at the same time. '

'There is an eleven o'clock packet, Atlee, to-night, ' said he: 'you mustmanage to start by that. You'll reach Holyhead by four or thereabouts, andcan easily get to the castle by mid-day. '

'I wish I had had a little more time, ' muttered the other. 'If I am topresent myself before his Excellency in such a "rig" as this--'

'I have thought of that. We are nearly of the same size and build; you are, perhaps, a trifle taller, but nothing to signify. Now Buckmaster hasjust sent me a mass of things of all sorts from town; they are in mydressing-room, not yet unpacked. Go up and look at them after dinner: takewhat suits you--as much--all, if you like--but don't delay now. It onlywants a few minutes of seven o'clock. '

Atlee muttered his thanks hastily, and went his way. If there was athoughtfulness in the generosity of this action, the mode in which itwas performed--the measured coldness of the words--the look of impassiveexamination that accompanied them, and the abstention from anything thatsavoured of apology for a liberty--were all deeply felt by the other. 

It was true, Walpole had often heard him tell of the freedom with which hehad treated Dick Kearney's wardrobe, and how poor Dick was scarcely sure hecould call an article of dress his own, whenever Joe had been the firstto go out into the town. The innumerable straits to which he reduced thatunlucky chum, who had actually to deposit a dinner-suit at an hotel to saveit from Atlee's rapacity, had amused Walpole; but then these things wereall done in the spirit of the honest familiarity that prevailed betweenthem--the tie of true _camaraderie_ that neither suggested a thought ofobligation on one side nor of painful inferiority on the other. Here itwas totally different. These men did not live together with that dailyinterchange of liberties which, with all their passing contentions, soaccustom people to each other's humours as to establish the soundest andstrongest of all friendships. Walpole had adopted Atlee because hefound him useful in a variety of ways. He was adroit, ready-witted, andintelligent; a half-explanation sufficed with him on anything--a mere hintwas enough to give him for an interview or a reply. He read people readily, and rarely failed to profit by the knowledge. Strange as it may seem, the great blemish of his manner--his snobbery--Walpole rather liked thandisliked it. I was a sort of qualifying element that satisfied him, asthough it said, 'With all that fellow's cleverness, he is not "one of us. "He might make a wittier reply, or write a smarter note; but society hasits little tests--not one of which he could respond to. ' And this was aninferiority Walpole loved to cherish and was pleased to think over. 

Atlee felt that Walpole might, with very little exercise of courtesy, havedealt more considerately by him. 

'I'm not exactly a valet, ' muttered he to himself, 'to whom a man flings awaistcoat as he chucks a shilling to a porter. I am more than Mr. Walpole'sequal in many things, which are not accidents of fortune. '

He knew scores of things he could do better than him; indeed, there werevery few he could not. 

Poor Joe was not, however, aware that it was in the 'not doing' layWalpole's secret of superiority; that the inborn sense of abstention is thegreat distinguishing element of the class Walpole belonged to; and hemight harass himself for ever, and yet never guess where it was that thedistinction evaded him. 

Atlee's manner at dinner was unusually cold and silent. He habitually madethe chief efforts of conversation, now he spoke little and seldom. WhenWalpole talked, it was in that careless discursive way it was his wont todiscuss matters with a familiar. He often put questions, and as often wenton without waiting for the answers. 

As they sat over the dessert and were alone, he adverted to the other'smission, throwing out little hints, and cautions as to manner, which Atleelistened to in perfect silence, and without the slightest sign that couldindicate the feeling they produced. 

'You are going into a new country, Atlee, ' said he at last, 'and I am sureyou will not be sorry to learn something of the geography. '

'Though it may mar a little of the adventure, ' said the other, smiling. 

'Ah, that's exactly what I want to warn you against. With us in England, there are none of those social vicissitudes you are used to here. The gameof life is played gravely, quietly, and calmly. There are no brilliantsuccesses of bold talkers, no _coups de théâtre_ of amusing _raconteurs_:no one tries to push himself into any position of eminence. '

A half-movement of impatience, as Atlee pushed his wine-glass before him, arrested the speaker. 

'I perceive, ' said he stiffly, 'you regard my counsels as unnecessary. '

'Not that, sir, so much as hopeless, ' rejoined the other coldly. 

'His Excellency will ask you, probably, some questions about this country:let me warn you not to give him Irish answers. '

'I don't think I understand you, sir. '

'I mean, don't deal in any exaggerations, avoid extravagance, and never beslapdash. '

'Oh, these are Irish, then?'

Without deigning reply to this, Walpole went on--

'Of course you have your remedy for all the evils of Ireland. I never metan Irishman who had not. But I beg you spare his lordship your theory, whatever it is, and simply answer the questions he will ask you. '

'I will try, sir, ' was the meek reply. 

'Above all things, let me warn you against a favourite blunder of yourcountrymen. Don't endeavour to explain peculiarities of action in thiscountry by singularities of race or origin; don't try to make out thatthere are special points of view held that are unknown on the other side ofthe Channel, or that there are other differences between the two peoples, except such as more rags and greater wretchedness produce. We have got overthat very venerable and time-honoured blunder, and do not endeavour torevive it. '

'Indeed!'

'Fact, I assure you. It is possible in some remote country-house to chanceupon some antiquated Tory who still cherishes these notions; but you'll notfind them amongst men of mind or intelligence, nor amongst any class of ourpeople. '

It was on Atlee's lip to ask, 'Who were our people?' but he forbore by amighty effort, and was silent. 

'I don't know if I have any other cautions to give you. Do you?'

'No, sir. I could not even have reminded you of these, if you had notyourself remembered them. '

'Oh, I had almost forgotten it. If his Excellency should give you anythingto write out, or to copy, don't smoke while you are over it: he abhorstobacco. I should have given you a warning to be equally careful as regardsLady Maude's sensibilities; but, on the whole, I suspect you'll scarcelysee her. '

'Is that all, sir?' said the other, rising. 

'Well, I think so. I shall be curious to hear how you acquit yourself--howyou get on with his Excellency, and how he takes you; and you must write itall to me. Ain't you much too early? it's scarcely ten o'clock. '

'A quarter past ten; and I have some miles to drive to Kingstown. '

'And not yet packed, perhaps?' said the other listlessly. 

'No, sir; nothing ready. '

'Oh! you'll be in ample time; I'll vouch for it. You are one of therough-and-ready order, who are never late. Not but in this same flurry ofyours you have made me forget something I know I had to say; and you tellme you can't remember it?'

'No, sir. '

'And yet, ' said the other sententiously, 'the crowning merit of a privatesecretary is exactly that sort of memory. _Your_ intellects, if properlytrained, should be the complement of your chief's. The infinite number ofthings that are too small and too insignificant for _him_, are to havetheir place, duly docketed and dated, in _your_ brain; and the veryexpression of his face should be an indication to you of what he is lookingfor and yet cannot remember. Do you mark me?'

'Half-past ten, ' cried Atlee, as the clock chimed on the mantel-piece; andhe hurried away without another word. 

It was only as he saw the pitiable penury of his own scanty wardrobe thathe could persuade himself to accept of Walpole's offer. 

'After all, ' he said, 'the loan of a dress-coat may be the turning-point ofa whole destiny. Junot sold all he had to buy a sword, to make his firstcampaign; all I have is my shame, and here it goes for a suit of clothes!'And, with these words, he rushed down to Walpole's dressing-room, and nottaking time to inspect and select the contents, carried off the box, as itwas, with him. 'I'll tell him all when I write, ' muttered he, as he droveaway. 

CHAPTER XXVI

DICK KEARNEY'S CHAMBERS

When Dick Kearney quitted Kilgobbin Castle for Dublin, he was very far fromhaving any projects in his head, excepting to show his cousin Nina that hecould live without her. 

'I believe, ' muttered he to himself, 'she counts upon me as another"victim. " These coquettish damsels have a theory that the "whole drama oflife" is the game of their fascinations and the consequences that comeof them, and that we men make it our highest ambition to win them, andsubordinate all we do in life to their favour. I should like to show herthat one man at least refuses to yield this allegiance, and that whateverher blandishments do with others, with him they are powerless. '

These thoughts were his travelling-companions for nigh fifty miles oftravel, and, like most travelling-companions, grew to be tiresome enoughtowards the end of the journey. 

When he arrived in Dublin, he was in no hurry to repair to his quarters inTrinity; they were not particularly cheery in the best of times, and now itwas long vacation, with few men in town, and everything sad and spiritless;besides this, he was in no mood to meet Atlee, whose free-and-easyjocularity he knew he would not endure, even with his ordinary patience. Joe had never condescended to write one line since he had left Kilgobbin, and Dick, who felt that in presenting him to his family he had done himimmense honour, was proportionately indignant at this show of indifference. But, by the same easy formula with which he could account for anything inNina's conduct by her 'coquetry, ' he was able to explain every deviationfrom decorum of Joe Atlee's by his 'snobbery. ' And it is astonishing howcomfortable the thought made him, that this man, in all his smartness andready wit, in his prompt power to acquire, and his still greater quicknessto apply knowledge, was after all a most consummate snob. 

He had no taste for a dinner at commons, so he ate his mutton-chop at atavern, and went to the play. Ineffably bored, he sauntered along thealmost deserted streets of the city, and just as midnight was striking, heturned under the arched portal of the college. Secretly hoping that Atleemight be absent, he inserted the key and entered his quarters. 

The grim old coal-bunker in the passage, the silent corridor, and thedreary room at the end of it, never looked more dismal than as he surveyedthem now by the light of a little wax-match he had lighted to guide hisway. There stood the massive old table in the middle, with its litter ofbooks and papers--memories of many a headache; and there was the paper ofcoarse Cavendish, against which he had so often protested, as well as apewter-pot--a new infraction against propriety since he had been away. Worse, however, than all assaults on decency, were a pair of coarsehighlows, which had been placed within the fender, and had evidentlyenjoyed the fire so long as it lingered in the grate. 

'So like the fellow! so like him!' was all that Dick could mutter, and heturned away in disgust. 

As Atlee never went to bed till daybreak, it was quite clear that he wasfrom home, and as the college gates could not reopen till morning, Dick wasnot sorry to feel that he was safe from all intrusion for some hours. Withthis consolation, he betook him to his bedroom, and proceeded to undress. Scarcely, however, had he thrown off his coat than a heavy, long-drawnrespiration startled him. He stopped and listened: it came again, and fromthe bed. He drew nigh, and there, to his amazement, on his own pillow, laythe massive head of a coarse-looking, vulgar man of about thirty, with asilk handkerchief fastened over it as nightcap. A brawny arm lay outsidethe bedclothes, with an enormous hand of very questionable cleanness, though one of the fingers wore a heavy gold ring. 

Wishing to gain what knowledge he might of his guest before awakinghim, Dick turned to inspect his clothes, which, in a wild disorder, layscattered through the room. They were of the very poorest; but suchstill as might have belonged to a very humble clerk, or a messenger in acounting-house. A large black leather pocket-book fell from a pocket of thecoat, and, in replacing it, Dick perceived it was filled with letters. On one of these, as he closed the clasp, he read the name, 'Mr. DanielDonogan, Dartmouth Gaol. '

'What!' cried he, 'is this the great head-centre, Donogan, I have read somuch of? and how is he here?'

Though Dick Kearney was not usually quick of apprehension, he was notlong here in guessing what the situation meant: it was clear enough thatDonogan, being a friend of Joe Atlee, had been harboured here as a saferefuge. Of all places in the capital, none were so secure from the visitsof the police as the college; indeed, it would have been no small hazardfor the public force to have invaded these precincts. Calculating thereforethat Kearney was little likely to leave Kilgobbin at present, Atlee hadinstalled his friend in Dick's quarters. The indiscretion was a graveone; in fact, there was nothing--even to expulsion itself--might not havefollowed on discovery. 

'So like him! so like him!' was all he could mutter, as he arose and walkedabout the room. 

While he thus mused, he turned into Atlee's bedroom, and at once itappeared why Mr. Donogan had been accommodated in his room. Atlee's wasperfectly destitute of everything: bed, chest of drawers, dressing-table, chair, and bath were all gone. The sole object in the chamber was a coarseprint of a well-known informer of the year '98, 'Jemmy O'Brien, 'under whose portrait was written, in Atlee's hand, 'Bought in atfourpence-halfpenny, at the general sale, in affectionate remembrance ofhis virtues, by one who feels himself to be a relative. --J. A. ' Kearney toredown the picture in passion, and stamped upon it; indeed, his indignationwith his chum had now passed all bounds of restraint. 

'So like him in everything!' again burst from him in utter bitterness. 

Having thus satisfied himself that he had read the incident aright, hereturned to the sitting-room, and at once decided that he would leaveDonogan to his rest till morning. 

'It will be time enough then to decide what is to be done, ' thought he. 

He then proceeded to relight the fire, and drawing a sofa near, he wrappedhimself in a railway-rug, and lay down to sleep. For a long time he couldnot compose himself to slumber: he thought of Nina and her wiles--ay, theywere wiles; he saw them plainly enough. It was true he was no prize--no'catch, ' as they call it--to angle for, and such a girl as she was couldeasily look higher; but still he might swell the list of those followersshe seemed to like to behold at her feet offering up every homage toher beauty, even to their actual despair. And he thought of his owncondition--very hopeless and purposeless as it was. 

'What a journey, to be sure, was life without a goal to strive for. Kilgobbin would be his one day; but by that time would it be able to payoff the mortgages that were raised upon it? It was true Atlee was noricher, but Atlee was a shifty, artful fellow, with scores of contrivancesto go windward of fortune in even the very worst of weather. Atlee would domany a thing _he_ would not stoop to. '

And as Kearney said this to himself, he was cautious in the use of hisverb, and never said 'could, ' but always 'would' do; and oh dear! is itnot in this fashion that so many of us keep up our courage in life, andattribute to the want of will what we well know lies in the want of power. 

Last of all he bethought himself of this man Donogan, a dangerous fellow ina certain way, and one whose companionship must be got rid of at any price. Plotting over in his mind how this should be done in the morning, he atlast fell fast asleep. 

So overcome was he by slumber, that he never awoke when that venerableinstitution called the college woman--the hag whom the virtue of unerringdons insists o imposing as a servant on resident students--entered, made upthe fire, swept up the room, and arranged the breakfast-table. It was onlyas she jogged his arm to ask him for an additional penny to buy more milk, that he awoke and remembered where he was. 

'Will I get yer honour a bit of bacon?' asked she, in a tone intended to beinsinuating. 

'Whatever you like, ' said he drowsily. 

'It's himself there likes a rasher--when he can get it, ' said she, with aleer, and a motion of her thumb towards the adjoining room. 

'Whom do you mean?' asked he, half to learn what and how much she knew ofhis neighbour. 

'Oh! don't I know him well?--Dan Donogan, ' replied she, with a grin. 'Didn't I see him in the dock with Smith O'Brien in '48, and wasn't he introuble again after he got his pardon; and won't he always be in trouble?'

'Hush! don't talk so loud, ' cried Dick warningly. 

'He'd not hear me now if I was screechin'; it's the only time he sleepshard; for he gets up about three or half-past--before it's day--and hesqueezes through the bars of the window, and gets out into the park, and hetakes his exercise there for two hours, most of the time running full speedand keeping himself in fine wind. Do you know what he said to me the otherday? "Molly, " says he, "when I know I can get between those bars there, andrun round the college park in three minutes and twelve seconds, I feel thatthere's not many a gaol in Ireland can howld, and the divil a policeman inthe island could catch, me. "' And she had to lean over the back of a chairto steady herself while she laughed at the conceit. 

'I think, after all, ' said Kearney, 'I'd rather keep out of the scrape thantrust to that way of escaping it. '

'_He_ wouldn't, ' said she. 'He'd rather be seducin' soldiers in BarrackStreet, or swearing in a new Fenian, or nailing a death-warnin' on a halldoor, than he'd be lord mayor! If he wasn't in mischief he'd like to be inhis grave. '

'And what comes of it all?' said Kearney, scarcely giving any exact meaningto his words. 

'That's what I do be saying myself, ' cried the hag. 'When they cantransport you for singing a ballad, and send you to pick oakum for a greencravat, it's time to take to some other trade than patriotism!' And withthis reflection she shuffled away, to procure the materials for breakfast. 

The fresh rolls, the watercress, a couple of red herrings devilled as thoseancient damsels are expert in doing, and a smoking dish of rashers andeggs, flanked by a hissing tea-kettle, soon made their appearance, the hagassuring Kearney that a stout knock with the poker on the back of the gratewould summon Mr. Donogan almost instantaneously--so rapidly, indeed, andwith such indifference as to raiment, that, as she modestly declared, 'Ihave to take to my heels the moment I call him, ' and the modest avowal wasconfirmed by her hasty departure. 

The assurance was so far correct, that scarcely had Kearney replaced thepoker, when the door opened, and one of the strangest figures he had everbeheld presented itself in the room. He was a short, thick-set man with aprofusion of yellowish hair, which, divided in the middle of the head, hungdown on either side to his neck--beard and moustache of the same hue, leftlittle of the face to be seen but a pair of lustrous blue eyes, deep-sunkenin their orbits, and a short wide-nostrilled nose, which bore the closestresemblance to a lion's. Indeed, a most absurd likeness to the king ofbeasts was the impression produced on Kearney as this wild-looking fellowbounded forward, and stood there amazed at finding a stranger to confronthim. 

His dress was a flannel-shirt and trousers, and a pair of old slipperswhich had once been Kearney's own. 

'I was told by the college woman how I was to summon you, Mr. Donogan, 'said Kearney good-naturedly. 'You are not offended with the liberty?'

'Are you Dick?' asked the other, coming forward. 

'Yes. I think most of my friends know me by that name. '

'And the old devil has told you mine?' asked he quickly. 

'No, I believe I discovered that for myself. I tumbled over some of yourthings last night, and saw a letter addressed to you. '

'You didn't read it?'

'Certainly not. It fell out of your pocket-book, and I put it back there. '

'So the old hag didn't blab on me? I'm anxious about this, because it's gotout somehow that I'm back again. I landed at Kenmare in a fishing-boat fromthe New York packet, the _Osprey_, on Tuesday fortnight, and three of thenewspapers had it before I was a week on shore. '

'Our breakfast is getting cold; sit down here and let me help you. Will youbegin with a rasher?'

Not replying to the invitation, Donogan covered his plate with bacon, andleaning his arm on the table, stared fixedly at Kearney. 

'I'm as glad as fifty pounds of it, ' muttered he slowly to himself. 

'Glad of what?'

'Glad that you're not a swell, Mr. Kearney, ' said he gravely. '"TheHonourable Richard Kearney, " whenever I repeated that to myself, it gave mea cold sweat. I thought of velvet collars and a cravat with a grand pin init, and a stuck-up creature behind both, that wouldn't condescend to sitdown with me. '

'I'm sure Joe Atlee gave you no such impression of me. '

A short grunt that might mean anything was all the reply. 

'He was my chum, and knew me better, ' reiterated the other. 

'He knows many a thing he doesn't say, and he says plenty that he doesn'tknow. "Kearney will be a swell, " said I, "and he'll turn upon me just outof contempt for my condition. '"

'That was judging me hardly, Mr. Donogan. '

'No, it wasn't; it's the treatment the mangy dogs meet all the world over. Why is England insolent to us, but because we're poor--answer me that? Arewe mangy? Don't you feel mangy?--I know _I_ do!'

Dick smiled a sort of mild contradiction, but said nothing. 

'Now that I see you, Mr. Kearney, ' said the other, 'I'm as glad as aten-pound note about a letter I wrote you--'

'I never received a letter from you. '

'Sure I know you didn't! haven't I got it here?' And he drew forth asquare-shaped packet and held it up before him. 'I never said that I sentit, nor I won't send it now: here's its present address, ' added he, as hethrew it on the fire and pressed it down with his foot. 

'Why not have given it to me now?' asked the other. 

'Because three minutes will tell you all that was in it, and better thanwriting; for I can reply to anything that wants an explanation, and that'swhat a letter cannot. First of all, do you know that Mr. Claude Barry, yourcounty member, has asked for the Chiltern, and is going to resign?'

'No, I have not heard it. '

'Well, it's a fact. They are going to make him a second secretarysomewhere, and pension him off. He has done his work: he voted an Arms Billand an Insurrection Act, and he had the influenza when the amnesty petitionwas presented, and sure no more could be expected from any man. '

'The question scarcely concerns me; our interest in the county is so smallnow, we count for very little. '

'And don't you know how to make your influence greater?'

'I cannot say that I do. '

'Go to the poll yourself, Richard Kearney, and be the member. '

'You are talking of an impossibility, Mr. Donogan. First of all, we have nofortune, no large estates in the county, with a wide tenantry and plenty ofvotes; secondly, we have no place amongst the county families, as our oldname and good blood might have given us; thirdly, we are of the wrongreligion, and, I take it, with as wrong politics; and lastly, we should notknow what to do with the prize if we had won it. '

'Wrong in every one of your propositions--wholly wrong, ' cried the other. 'The party that will send you in won't want to be bribed, and they'll beproud of a man who doesn't overtop them with his money. You don't need thebig families, for you'll beat them. Your religion is the right one, for itwill give you the Priests; and your politics shall be Repeal, and itwill give you the Peasants; and as to not knowing what to do when you'reelected, are you so mighty well off in life that you've nothing to wishfor?'

'I can scarcely say that, ' said Dick, smiling. 

'Give me a few minutes' attention, ' said Donogan, 'and I think I'll showyou that I've thought this matter out and out; indeed, before I sat down towrite to you, I went into all the details. '

And now, with a clearness and a fairness that astonished Kearney, thisstrange-looking fellow proceeded to prove how he had weighed the wholedifficulty, and saw how, in the nice balance of the two great parties whowould contest the seat, the Repealer would step in and steal votes fromboth. 

He showed not only that he knew every barony of the county, and everyestate and property, but that he had a clear insight into the differentlocalities where discontent prevailed, and places where there was somethingmore than discontent. 

'It is down there, ' said he significantly, 'that I can be useful. The manthat has had his foot in the dock, and only escaped having his head in thenoose, is never discredited in Ireland. Talk Parliament and parliamentarytactics to the small shopkeepers in Moate, and leave me to talk treason tothe people in the bog. '

'But I mistake you and your friends greatly, ' said Kearney, 'if these werethe tactics you always followed; I thought that you were the physical-forceparty, who sneered at constitutionalism and only believed in the pike. '

'So we did, so long as we saw O'Connell and the lawyers working the game ofthat grievance for their own advantage, and teaching the English Governmenthow to rule Ireland by a system of concession to _them_ and to _their_friends. Now, however, we begin to perceive that to assault that heavybastion of Saxon intolerance, we must have spies in the enemy's fortress, and for this we send in so many members to the Whig party. There are scoresof men who will aid us by their vote who would not risk a bone in ourcause. Theirs is a sort of subacute patriotism; but it has its use. Itsmashes an Established Church, breaks down Protestant ascendency, destroysthe prestige of landed property, and will in time abrogate entail andprimogeniture, and many another fine thing; and in this way it clears theground for our operations, just as soldiers fell trees and level houseslest they interfere with the range of heavy artillery. '

'So that the place you would assign me is that very honourable one you havejust called a "spy in the camp"?'

'By a figure I said that, Mr. Kearney; but you know well enough what Imeant was, that there's many a man will help us on the Treasury benchesthat would not turn out on Tallaght; and we want both. I won't say, ' addedhe, after a pause, 'I'd not rather see you a leader in our ranks thana Parliament man. I was bred a doctor, Mr. Kearney, and I must takean illustration from my own art. To make a man susceptible of certainremedies, you are often obliged to reduce his strength and weaken hisconstitution. So it is here. To bring Ireland into a condition to bebettered by Repeal, you must crush the Church and smash the bitterProtestants. The Whigs will do these for us, but we must help them. Do youunderstand me now?'

'I believe I do. In the case you speak of, then, the Government willsupport my election. '

'Against a Tory, yes; but not against a pure Whig--a thorough-goingsupporter, who would bargain for nothing for his country, only somethingfor his own relations. '

'If your project has an immense fascination for me at one moment, andexcites my ambition beyond all bounds, the moment I turn my mind to thecost, and remember my own poverty, I see nothing but hopelessness. '

'That's not my view of it, nor when you listen to me patiently, will it, Ibelieve, be yours. Can we have another talk over this in the evening?'

'To be sure! we'll dine here together at six. '

'Oh, never mind me, think of yourself, Mr. Kearney, and your ownengagements. As to the matter of dining, a crust of bread and a couple ofapples are fully as much as I want or care for. '

'We'll dine together to-day at six, ' said Dick, 'and bear in mind, I ammore interested in this than you are. '

CHAPTER XXVII

A CRAFTY COUNSELLOR

As they were about to sit down to dinner on that day, a telegram, re-directed from Kilgobbin, reached Kearney's hand. It bore the date ofthat morning from Plmnuddm Castle, and was signed 'Atlee. ' Its contentswere these: 'H. E. Wants to mark the Kilgobbin defence with some sign ofapproval. What shall it be? Reply by wire. '

'Read that, and tell us what you think of it. '

'Joe Atlee at the Viceroy's castle in Wales!' cried the other. 'We're goingup the ladder hand over head, Mr. Kearney! A week ago his ambition wasbounded on the south by Ship Street, and on the east by the Lower CastleYard. '

'How do you understand the despatch?' asked Kearney quickly. 

'Easily enough. His Excellency wants to know what you'll have for shootingdown three--I think they were three--Irishmen. '

'The fellows came to demand arms, and with loaded guns in their hands. '

'And if they did! Is not the first right of a man the weapon that defendshim? He that cannot use it or does not possess it, is a slave. By whatprerogative has Kilgobbin Castle within its walls what can take the life ofany, the meanest, tenant on the estate?'

'I am not going to discuss this with you; I think I have heard most of itbefore, and was not impressed when I did so. What I asked was, what sort ofa recognition one might safely ask for and reasonably expect?'

'That's not long to look for. Let them support you in the county. Telegraphback, "I'm going to stand, and, if I get in, will be a Whig whenever I amnot a Nationalist. Will the party stand by me?"'

'Scarcely with that programme. '

'And do you think that the priests' nominees, who are three-fourths of theIrish members, offer better terms? Do you imagine that the men that crowdthe Whig lobby have not reserved their freedom of action about the Pope, and the Fenian prisoners, and the Orange processionists? If they were notfree so far, I'd ask you with the old Duke, How is Her Majesty's Governmentto be carried on?'

Kearney shook his head in dissent. 

'And that's not all, ' continued the other; 'but you must write to thepapers a flat contradiction of that shooting story. You must either declarethat it never occurred at all, or was done by that young scamp from theCastle, who happily got as much as he gave. '

'That I could not do, ' said Kearney firmly. 

'And it is that precisely that you must do, ' rejoined the other. 'If you gointo the House to represent the popular feeling of Irishmen, the hand thatsigns the roll must not be stained with Irish blood. '

'You forget; I was not within fifty miles of the place. '

'And another reason to disavow it. Look here, Mr. Kearney: if a man in abattle was to say to himself, I'll never give any but a fair blow, he'dmake a mighty bad soldier. Now, public life is a battle, and worse than abattle in all that touches treachery and falsehood. If you mean to do anygood in the world, to yourself and your country, take my word for it, you'll have to do plenty of things that you don't like, and, what's worse, can't defend. '

'The soup is getting cold all this time. Shall we sit down?'

'No, not till we answer the telegram. Sit down and say what I told you. '

'Atlee will say I'm mad. He knows that I have not a shilling in the world. '

'Riches is not the badge of the representation, ' said the other. 

'They can at least pay the cost of the elections. '

'Well, we'll pay ours too--not all at once, but later on; don't fretyourself about that. '

'They'll refuse me flatly. '

'No, we have a lien on the fine gentleman with the broken arm. What wouldthe Tories give for that story, told as I could tell it to them? At allevents, whatever you do in life, remember this--that if asked your pricefor anything you have done, name the highest, and take nothing if it'srefused you. It's a waiting race, but I never knew it fail in the end. '

Kearney despatched his message, and sat down to the table, far too muchflurried and excited to care for his dinner. Not so his guest, who atevoraciously, seldom raising his head and never uttering a word. 'Here's tothe new member for King's County, ' said he at last, and he drained off hisglass; 'and I don't know a pleasanter way of wishing a man prosperity thanin a bumper. Has your father any politics, Mr. Kearney?'

'He thinks he's a Whig, but, except hating the Established Church andhaving a print of Lord Russell over the fireplace, I don't know he hasother reason for the opinion. '

'All right; there's nothing finer for a young man entering public life thanto be able to sneer at his father for a noodle. That's the practical way toshow contempt for the wisdom of our ancestors. There's no appeal the publicrespond to with the same certainty as that of the man who quarrels with hisrelations for the sake of his principles, and whether it be a change inyour politics or your religion, they're sure to uphold you. '

'If differing with my father will ensure my success, I can afford to beconfident, ' said Dick, smiling. 

'Your sister has her notions about Ireland, hasn't she?'

'Yes, I believe she has; but she fancies that laws and Acts of Parliamentare not the things in fault, but ourselves and our modes of dealing withthe people, that were not often just, and were always capricious. I am notsure how she works out her problem, but I believe we ought to educate eachother; and that in turn, for teaching the people to read and write, thereare scores of things to be learned from them. '

'And the Greek girl?'

'The Greek girl'--began Dick haughtily, and with a manner that betokenedrebuke, and which suddenly changed as he saw that nothing in the other'smanner gave any indication of intended freedom or insolence--'The Greek ismy first cousin, Mr. Donogan, ' said he calmly; 'but I am anxious to knowhow you have heard of her, or indeed of any of us. '

'From Joe--Joe Atlee! I believe we have talked you over--every one ofyou--till I know you all as well as if I lived in the castle and called youby your Christian names. Do you know, Mr. Kearney'--and his voice tremblednow as he spoke--'that to a lone and desolate man like myself, who has nohome, and scarcely a country, there is something indescribably touching inthe mere picture of the fireside, and the family gathered round it, talkingover little homely cares and canvassing the changes of each day's fortune. I could sit here half the night and listen to Atlee telling how you lived, and the sort of things that interested you. '

'So that you'd actually like to look at us?'

Donogan's eyes grew glassy, and his lips trembled, but he could not utter aword. 

'So you shall, then, ' cried Dick resolutely. 'We'll start to-morrow by theearly train. You'll not object to a ten miles' walk, and we'll arrive fordinner. '

'Do you know who it is you are inviting to your father's house? Do you knowthat I am an escaped convict, with a price on my head this minute? Do youknow the penalty of giving me shelter, or even what the law calls comfort?'

'I know this, that in the heart of the Bog of Allen, you'll be far saferthan in the city of Dublin; that none shall ever learn who you are, nor, ifthey did, is there one--the poorest in the place--would betray you. '

'It is of you, sir, I'm thinking, not of me, ' said Donogan calmly. 

'Don't fret yourself about us. We are well known in our county, and abovesuspicion. Whenever you yourself should feel that your presence was like tobe a danger, I am quite willing to believe you'd take yourself off. '

'You judge me rightly, sir, and I am proud to see it; but how are you topresent me to your friends?'

'As a college acquaintance--a friend of Atlee's and of mine--a gentlemanwho occupied the room next me. I can surely say that with truth. '

'And dined with you every day since you knew him. Why not add that?'

He laughed merrily over this conceit, and at last Donogan said, 'I've alittle kit of clothes--something decenter than these--up in Thomas Street, No. 13, Mr. Kearney; the old house Lord Edward was shot in, and the safestplace in Dublin now, because it is so notorious. I'll step up for them thisevening, and I'll be ready to start when you like. '

'Here's good fortune to us, whatever we do next, ' said Kearney, fillingboth their glasses; and they touched the brims together, and clinked thembefore they drained them. 

CHAPTER XXVIII

'ON THE LEADS'

Kate Kearney's room was on the top of the castle, and 'gave' by a windowover the leads of a large square tower. On this space she had made alittle garden of a few flowers, to tend which was of what she called her'dissipations. '

[Illustration: 'Is not that as fine as your boasted Campagna?']

Some old packing-cases filled with mould sufficed to nourish a few stocksand carnations, a rose or two, and a mass of mignonette, which possibly, like the children of the poor, grew up sturdy and healthy from some of theadverse circumstances of their condition. It was a very favourite spot withher; and if she came hither in her happiest moments, it was here also hersaddest hours were passed, sure that in the cares and employments of herloved plants she would find solace and consolation. It was at this windowKate now sat with Nina, looking over the vast plain, on which a richmoonlight was streaming, the shadows of fast-flitting clouds throwingstrange and fanciful effects over a space almost wide enough to be aprairie. 

'What a deal have mere names to do with our imaginations, Nina!' said Kate. 'Is not that boundless sweep before us as fine as your boasted Campagna?Does not the night wind career over it as joyfully, and is not themoonlight as picturesque in its breaks by turf-clamp and hillock as byruined wall and tottering temple? In a word, are not we as well here, todrink in all this delicious silence, as if we were sitting on your lovedPincian?'

'Don't ask me to share such heresies. I see nothing out there but bleakdesolation. I don't know if it ever had a past; I can almost swear it willhave no future. Let us not talk of it. '

'What shall we talk of?' asked Kate, with an arch smile. 

'You know well enough what led me up here. I want to hear what you know ofthat strange man Dick brought here to-day to dinner. '

'I never saw him before--never even heard of him. '

'Do you like him?'

'I have scarcely seen him. '

'Don't be so guarded and reserved. Tell me frankly the impression he makeson you. Is he not vulgar--very vulgar?'

'How should I say, Nina? Of all the people you ever met, who knows solittle of the habits of society as myself? Those fine gentlemen who werehere the other day shocked my ignorance by numberless little displaysof indifference. Yet I can feel that they must have been paragons ofgood-breeding, and that what I believed to be a very cool self-sufficiency, was in reality the very latest London version of good manners. '

'Oh, you did not like that charming carelessness of Englishmen that goeswhere it likes and when it likes, that does not wait to be answered when itquestions, and only insists on one thing, which is--"not to be bored. " Ifyou knew, dearest Kate, how foreigners school themselves, and strive tocatch up that insouciance, and never succeed--never!'

'My brother's friend certainly is no adept in it. '

'He is insufferable. I don't know that the man ever dined in the company ofladies before; did you remark that he did not open the door as we left thedinner-room? and if your brother had not come over, I should have had toopen it for myself. I declare I'm not sure he stood up as we passed. '

'Oh yes; I saw him rise from his chair. '

'I'll tell you what you did not see. You did not see him open his napkinat dinner. He stole his roll of bread very slyly from the folds, and thenplaced the napkin, carefully folded, beside him. '

'You seem to have observed him closely, Nina. '

'I did so, because I saw enough in his manner to excite suspicion of hisclass, and I want to know what Dick means by introducing him here. '

'Papa liked him; at least he said that after we left the room a good dealof his shyness wore off, and that he conversed pleasantly and well. Aboveall, he seems to know Ireland perfectly. '

'Indeed!' said she, half disdainfully. 

'So much so that I was heartily sorry to leave the room when I heard thembegin the topic; but I saw papa wished to have some talk with him, and Iwent. '

'They were gallant enough not to join us afterwards, though I think wewaited tea till ten. '

'Till nigh eleven, Nina; so that I am sure they must have been interestedin their conversation. '

'I hope the explanation excuses them. '

'I don't know that they are aware they needed an apology. Perhaps they wereaffecting a little of that British insouciance you spoke of--'

'They had better not. It will sit most awkwardly on their Irish habits. '

'Some day or other I'll give you a formal battle on this score, Nina, and Iwarn you you'll not come so well out of it. '

'Whenever you like. I accept the challenge. Make this brilliant companionof your brother's the type, and it will test your cleverness, I promiseyou. Do you even know his name?'

'Mr. Daniel, my brother called him; but I know nothing of his country or ofhis belongings. '

'Daniel is a Christian name, not a family name, is it not? We have scoresof people like that--Tommasina, Riccardi, and such like--in Italy, but theymean nothing. '

'Our friend below-stairs looks as if _that_ was not his failing. I shouldsay that he means a good deal. '

'Oh, I know you are laughing at my stupid phrase--no matter; you understandme, at all events. I don't like that man. '

'Dick's friends are not fortunate with you. I remember how unfavourably youjudged of Mr. Atlee from his portrait. '

'Well, he looked rather better than his picture--less false, I mean; orperhaps it was that he had a certain levity of manner that carried off theperfidy. '

'What an amiable sort of levity!'

'You are too critical on me by half this evening, ' said Nina pettishly; andshe arose and strolled out upon the leads. 

For some time Kate was scarcely aware she had gone. Her head was full ofcares, and she sat trying to think some of them 'out, ' and see her way todeal with them. At last the door of the room slowly and noiselessly opened, and Dick put in his head. 

'I was afraid you might be asleep, Kate, ' said he, entering, 'finding allso still and quiet here. '

'No. Nina and I were chatting here--squabbling, I believe, if I were totell the truth; and I can't tell when she left me. '

'What could you be quarrelling about?' asked he, as he sat down beside her. 

'I think it was with that strange friend of yours. We were not quite agreedwhether his manners were perfect, or his habits those of the well-bredworld. Then we wanted to know more of him, and each was dissatisfied thatthe other was so ignorant; and, lastly, we were canvassing that verypeculiar taste you appear to have in friends, and were wondering where youfind your odd people. '

'So then you don't like Donogan?' said he hurriedly. 

'Like whom? And you call him Donogan!'

'The mischief is out, ' said he. 'Not that I wanted to have secrets fromyou; but all the same, I am a precious bungler. His name is Donogan, andwhat's more, it's Daniel Donogan. He was the same who figured in the dockat, I believe, sixteen years of age, with Smith O'Brien and the others, and was afterwards seen in England in '59, known as a head-centre, andapprehended on suspicion in '60, and made his escape from Dartmoor the sameyear. There's a very pretty biography in skeleton, is it not?'

'But, my dear Dick, how are you connected with him?'

'Not very seriously. Don't be afraid. I'm not compromised in any way, nor does he desire that I should be. Here is the whole story of ouracquaintance. '

And now he told what the reader already knows of their first meeting andthe intimacy that followed it. 

'All that will take nothing from the danger of harbouring a man charged ashe is, ' said she gravely. 

'That is to say, if he be tracked and discovered. '

'It is what I mean. '

'Well, one has only to look out of that window, and see where we are, andwhat lies around us on every side, to be tolerably easy on that score. '

And, as he spoke, he arose and walked out upon the terrace. 

'What, were you here all this time?' asked he, as he saw Nina seated on thebattlement, and throwing dried leaves carelessly to the wind. 

'Yes, I have been here this half-hour, perhaps longer. '

'And heard what we have been saying within there?'

'Some chance words reached me, but I did not follow them. '

'Oh, it was here you were, then, Nina!' cried Kate. 'I am ashamed to say Idid not know it. '

'We got so warm in discussing your friend's merits or demerits, that weparted in a sort of huff, ' said Nina. 'I wonder was he worth quarrellingfor?'

'What should _you_ say?' asked Dick inquiringly, as he scanned her face. 

'In any other land, I might say he was--that is, that some interest mightattach to him; but here, in Ireland, you all look so much brighter, andwittier, and more impetuous, and more out of the common than you reallyare, that I give up all divination of you, and own I cannot read you atall. '

'I hope you like the explanation, ' said Kate to her brother, laughing. 

'I'll tell my friend of it in the morning, ' said Dick; 'and as he is agreat national champion, perhaps he'll accept it as a defiance. '

'You do not frighten me by the threat, ' said Nina calmly. 

Dick looked from her face to her sister's and back again to hers, todiscern if he might how much she had overheard; but he could read nothingin her cold and impassive bearing, and he went his way in doubt andconfusion. 

CHAPTER XXIX

ON A VISIT AT KILGOBBIN

Before Kearney had risen from his bed the next morning, Donogan was in hisroom, his look elated and his cheek glowing with recent exercise. 'I havehad a burst of two hours' sharp walking over the bog, ' cried he; 'and ithas put me in such spirits as I have not known for many a year. Do youknow, Mr. Kearney, that what with the fantastic effects of the morningmists, as they lift themselves over these vast wastes--the glorious patchesof blue heather and purple anemone that the sun displays through thefog--and, better than all, the springiness of a soil that sends a thrill tothe heart, like a throb of youth itself, there is no walking in the worldcan compare with a bog at sunrise! There's a sentiment to open a paper onnationalities! I came up with the postboy, and took his letters to save hima couple of miles. Here's one for you, I think from Atlee; and this is alsoto your address, from Dublin; and here's the last number of the _Pike_, and you'll see they have lost no time. There's a few lines about you. "Ourreaders will be grateful to us for the tidings we announce to-day, withauthority--that Richard Kearney, Esq. , son of Mathew Kearney, o KilgobbinCastle, will contest his native county at the approaching election. It willbe a proud day for Ireland when she shall see her representation in thenames of those who dignify the exalted station they hold in virtue of theirbirth and blood, by claims of admitted talent and recognised ability. Mr. Kearney, junior, has swept the university of its prizes, and the collegegate has long seen his name at the head of her prizemen. He contests theseat in the National interest. It is needless to say all our sympathies, and hopes, and best wishes go with him. "'

Dick shook with laughing while the other read out the paragraph in ahigh-sounding and pretentious tone. 

'I hope, ' said Kearney at last, 'that the information as to my collegesuccesses is not vouched for on authority. '

'Who cares a fig about them? The phrase rounds off a sentence, and nobodytreats it like an affidavit. '

'But some one may take the trouble to remind the readers that my victorieshave been defeats, and that in my last examination but one I got"cautioned. "'

'Do you imagine, Mr. Kearney, the House of Commons in any way reflectscollege distinction? Do you look for senior-wranglers and double-firsts onthe Treasury bench? and are not the men who carry away distinction the menof breadth, not depth? Is it not the wide acquaintance with a large fieldof knowledge, and the subtle power to know how other men regard thesetopics, that make the popular leader of the present day? and remember, itis talk, and not oratory, is the mode. You must be commonplace, and evenvulgar, practical, dashed with a small morality, so as not to be classedwith the low Radical; and if then you have a bit of high-faluting for theperoration, you'll do. The morning papers will call you a young man ofgreat promise, and the whip will never pass you without a shake-hands. '

'But there are good speakers. '

'There is Bright--I don't think I know another--and he only at times. Takemy word for it, the secret of success with "the collective wisdom" isreiteration. Tell them the same thing, not once or twice or even ten, butfifty times, and don't vary very much even the way you tell it. Go onrepeating your platitudes, and by the time you find you are cursing yourown stupid persistence, you may swear you have made a convert to youropinions. If you are bent on variety, and must indulge it, ring yourchanges on the man who brought these views before them--yourself, butbeyond these never soar. O'Connell, who had a variety at will for his owncountrymen, never tried it in England: he knew better. The chawbacons thatwe sneer at are not always in smock-frocks, take my word for it; they manyof them wear wide-brimmed hats and broadcloth, and sit above the gangway. Ay, sir, ' cried he, warming with the theme, 'once I can get my countrymenfully awakened to the fact of who and what are the men who rule them, I'llask for no Catholic Associations, or Repeal Committees, or NationalistClubs--the card-house of British supremacy will tumble of itself; therewill be no conflict, but simply submission. '

'We're a long day's journey from these convictions, I suspect, ' saidKearney doubtfully. 

'Not so far, perhaps, as you think. Do you remark how little the Englishpress deal in abuse of us to what was once their custom? They have not, Iadmit, come down to civility; but they don't deride us in the old fashion, nor tell us, as I once saw, that we are intellectually and physicallystamped with inferiority. If it was true, Mr. Kearney, it was stupid totell it to us. '

'I think we could do better than dwell upon these things. '

'I deny that: deny it _in toto_. The moment you forget, in your dealingswith the Englishman, the cheap estimate he entertains, not alone of yourbrains and your skill, but of your resolution, your persistence, yourstrong will, ay, your very integrity, that moment, I say, places him in aposition to treat you as something below him. Bear in mind, however, how heis striving to regard you, and it's your own fault if you're not his equal, and something more perhaps. There was a man more than the master of themall, and his name was Edmund Burke; and how did they treat _him_? Howinsolently did they behave to O'Connell in the House till he put his heelon them? Were they generous to Sheil? Were they just to Plunket? No, no. The element that they decry in our people they know they have not got, andthey'd like to crush the race, when they cannot extinguish the quality. '

Donogan had so excited himself now that he walked up and down the room, his voice ringing with emotion, and his arms wildly tossing in all theextravagance of passion. 'This is from Joe Atlee, ' said Kearney, as he toreopen the envelope:--

'"DEAR DICK, --I cannot account for the madness that seems to have seizedyou, except that Dan Donogan, the most rabid dog I know, has bitten you. Ifso, for Heaven's sake have the piece cut out at once, and use the strongestcautery of common sense, if you know of any one who has a little to spare. I only remembered yesterday that I ought to have told you I had shelteredDan in our rooms, but I can already detect that you have made hisacquaintance. He is not a bad fellow. He is sincere in his opinions, andincorruptible, if that be the name for a man who, if bought to-morrow, would not be worth sixpence to his owner. 

'"Though I resigned all respect for my own good sense in telling it, I wasobliged to let H. E. Know the contents of your despatch, and then, as I sawhe had never heard of Kilgobbin, or the great Kearney family, I toldmore lies of your estated property, your county station, your influencegenerally, and your abilities individually, than the fee-simple of yourproperty, converted into masses, will see me safe through purgatory; and Ihave consequently baited the trap that has caught myself; for, persuadedby my eloquent advocacy of you all, H. E. Has written to Walpole to makecertain inquiries concerning you, which, if satisfactory, he, Walpole, willput himself in communication with you, as to the extent and the mode towhich the Government will support you. I think I can see Dan Donogan's finehand in that part of your note which foreshadows a threat, and hints thatthe Walpole story would, if published abroad, do enormous damage to theMinistry. This, let me assure you, is a fatal error, and a blunder whichcould only be committed by an outsider in political life. The days are longpast since a scandal could smash an administration; and we are sostrong now that arson or forgery could not hurt, and I don't think thatinfanticide would affect us. 

'"If you are really bent on this wild exploit, you should see Walpole, and confer with him. You don't talk well, but you write worse, so avoidcorrespondence, and do all your indiscretions verbally. Be angry if youlike with my candour, but follow my counsel. 

'"See him, and show him, if you are able, that, all questions ofnationality apart, he may count upon your vote; that there are certainimpracticable and impossible conceits in politics--like repeal, subdivisionof land, restoration of the confiscated estates, and such like--on whichIrishmen insist on being free to talk balderdash, and air their patriotism;but that, rightfully considered, they are as harmless and mean just aslittle as a discussion on the Digamma, or a debate on perpetual motion. Thestupid Tories could never be brought to see this. Like genuine dolts, theywould have an army of supporters, one-minded with them in everything. Weknow better, and hence we buy the Radical vote by a little coquettingwith communism, and the model working-man and the rebel by an occasionalgaol-delivery, and the Papist by a sop to the Holy Father. Bear in mind, Dick--and it is the grand secret of political life--it takes all sort ofpeople to make a 'party. ' When you have thoroughly digested this aphorism, you are fit to start in the world. 

'"If you were not so full of what I am sure you would call your 'legitimateambitions, ' I'd like to tell you the glorious life we lead in this place. Disraeli talks of 'the well-sustained splendour of their stately lives, 'and it is just the phrase for an existence in which all the appliances toease and enjoyment are supplied by a sort of magic, that never shows itsmachinery, nor lets you hear the sound of its working. The saddle-horsesknow when I want to ride by the same instinct that makes the butler giveme the exact wine I wish at my dinner. And so on throughout the day, 'thesustained splendour' being an ever-present luxuriousness that I drink inwith a thirst that knows no slaking. 

'"I have made a hit with H. E. , and from copying some rather muddle-headeddespatches, I am now promoted to writing short skeleton sermons onpolitics, which, duly filled out and fattened with official nutriment, will one day astonish the Irish Office, and make one of the Nestors ofbureaucracy exclaim, 'See how Danesbury has got up the Irish question. '

'"I have a charming collaborateur, my lord's niece, who was acting as hisprivate secretary up to the time of my arrival, and whose explanation of avariety of things I found to be so essential that, from being at first inthe continual necessity of seeking her out, I have now arrived at a pointat which we write in the same room, and pass our mornings in the librarytill luncheon. She is stunningly handsome, as tall as the Greek cousin, andwith a stately grace of manner and a cold dignity of demeanour I'd give myheart's blood to subdue to a mood of womanly tenderness and dependence. Upto this, my position is that of a very humble courtier in the presence of aqueen, and she takes care that by no momentary forgetfulness shall I losesight of the 'situation. '

'"She is engaged, they say, to be married to Walpole; but as I have notheard that he is heir-apparent, or has even the reversion to the crown ofSpain, I cannot perceive what the contract means. 

'"I rode out with her to-day by special invitation, or permission--whichwas it?--and in the few words that passed between us, she asked me if I hadlong known Mr. Walpole, and put her horse into a canter without waiting formy answer. 

'"With H. E. I can talk away freely, and without constraint. I am neververy sure that he does not know the things he questions me on better thanmyself--a practice some of his order rather cultivate; but, on the whole, our intercourse is easy. I know he is not a little puzzled about me, and Iintend that he should remain so. 

'"When you have seen and spoken with Walpole, write me what has takenplace between you; and though I am fully convinced that what you intend isunmitigated folly, I see so many difficulties in the way, such obstacles, and such almost impossibilities to be overcome, that I think Fate willbe more merciful to you than your ambitions, and spare you, by an earlydefeat, from a crushing disappointment. 

'"Had you ambitioned to be a governor of a colony, a bishop, or a Queen'smessenger--they are the only irresponsible people I can think of--Imight have helped you; but this conceit to be a Parliament man is suchirredeemable folly, one is powerless to deal with it. 

'"At all events, your time is not worth much, nor is your public characterof a very grave importance. Give them both, then, freely to the effort, butdo not let it cost you money, nor let Donogan persuade you that you are oneof those men who can make patriotism self-supporting. 

'"H. E. Hints at a very confidential mission on which he desires to employme; and though I should leave this place now with much regret, and a moretender sorrow than I could teach you to comprehend, I shall hold myselfat his orders for Japan if he wants me. Meanwhile, write to me whattakes place with Walpole, and put your faith firmly in the good-will andefficiency of yours truly, '"JOE ATLEE. 

'"If you think of taking Donogan down with you to Kilgobbin, I ought totell you that it would be a mistake. Women invariably dislike him, and hewould do you no credit. '"

Dick Kearney, who had begun to read this letter aloud, saw himselfconstrained to continue, and went on boldly, without stop or hesitation, tothe last word. 

'I am very grateful to you, Mr. Kearney, for this mark of trustfulness, andI'm not in the least sore about all Joe has said of me. '

'He is not over complimentary to myself, ' said Kearney, and the irritationhe felt was not to be concealed. 

'There's one passage in his letter, ' said the other thoughtfully, 'wellworth all the stress he lays on it. He tells you never to forget it "takesall sorts of men to make a party. " Nothing can more painfully prove thefact than that we need Joe Atlee amongst ourselves! And it is true, Mr. Kearney, ' said he sternly, 'treason must now, to have any chance at all, bemany-handed. We want not only all sorts of men, but in all sorts of places;and at tables where rebel opinions dared not be boldly announced anddefended, we want people who can coquet with felony, and get men to talkover treason with little if any ceremony. Joe can do this--he can write, and, what is better, sing you a Fenian ballad, and if he sees he has made amistake, he can quiz himself and his song as cavalierly as he has sung it!And now, on my solemn oath I say it, I don't know that anything worse hasbefallen us than the fact that there are such men as Joe Atlee amongst us, and that we need them--ay, sir, we need them!'

'This is brief enough, at any rate, ' said Kearney, as he broke open thesecond letter:--

'"DUBLIN CASTLE, _Wednesday Evening_. 

'"DEAR SIR, --Would you do me the great favour to call on me here at yourearliest convenient moment? I am still an invalid, and confined to a sofa, or would ask for permission to meet you at your chambers. --Believe me, yours faithfully, CECIL WALPOLE. "'

'That cannot be delayed, I suppose?' said Kearney, in the tone of aquestion. 

'Certainly not. '

'I'll go up by the night-mail. You'll remain where you are, and where Ihope you feel you are with a welcome. '

'I feel it, sir--I feel it more than I can say. ' And his face was blood-redas he spoke. 

'There are scores of things you can do while I am away. You'll have tostudy the county in all its baronies and subdivisions. There, my sister canhelp you; and you'll have to learn the names and places of our great countyswells, and mark such as may be likely to assist us. You'll have to strollabout in our own neighbourhood, and learn what the people near home say ofthe intention, and pick up what you can of public opinion in our towns ofMoate and Kilbeggan. '

'I have bethought me of all that---' He paused here and seemed to hesitateif he should say more; and after an effort, he went on: 'You'll not takeamiss what I'm going to say, Mr. Kearney. You'll make full allowance for aman placed as I am; but I want, before you go, to learn from you in whatway, or as what, you have presented me to your family? Am I a poor sizar ofTrinity, whose hard struggle with poverty has caught your sympathy? Am I achance acquaintance, whose only claim on you is being known to Joe Atlee?I'm sure I need not ask you, have you called me by my real name and givenme my real character?'

Kearney flushed up to the eyes, and laying his hand on the other'sshoulder, said, 'This is exactly what I have done. I have told my sisterthat you are the noted Daniel Donogan, United Irishman and rebel. '

'But only to your sister?'

'To none other. '

'_She_'ll not betray me, I know that. '

'You are right there, Donogan. Here's how it happened, for it was notintended. ' And now he related how the name had escaped him. 

'So that the cousin knows nothing?'

'Nothing whatever. My sister Kate is not one to make rash confidences, andyou may rely on it she has not told her. '

'I hope and trust that this mistake will serve you for a lesson, Mr. Kearney, and show you that to keep a secret, it is not enough to have anhonest intention, but a man must have a watch over his thoughts and apadlock on his tongue. And now to something of more importance. In yourmeeting with Walpole, mind one thing: no modesty, no humility; make yourdemands boldly, and declare that your price is well worth the paying;let him feel that, as he must make a choice between the priests and thenationalists, we are the easier of the two to deal with: first of all, wedon't press for prompt payment; and, secondly, we'll not shock Exeter Hall!Show him that strongly, and tell him that there are clever fellows amongstus who'll not compromise him or his party, and will never desert him on aclose division. Oh dear me, how I wish I was going in your place. '

'So do I, with all my heart; but there's ten striking, and we shall be latefor breakfast. '

CHAPTER XXX

THE MOATE STATION

The train by which Miss Betty O'Shea expected her nephew was late in itsarrival at Moate, and Peter Gill, who had been sent with the car to fetchhim over, was busily discussing his second supper when the passengersarrived. 

'Are you Mr. Gorman O'Shea, sir?' asked Peter of a well-dressed andwell-looking young man, who had just taken his luggage from the train. 

'No; here he is, ' replied he, pointing to a tall, powerful young fellow, whose tweed suit and billycock hat could not completely conceal asoldierlike bearing and a sort of compactness that comes of 'drill. '

'That's my name. What do you want with me?' cried he, in a loud butpleasant voice. 

'Only that Miss Betty has sent me over with the car for your honour, ifit's plazing to you to drive across. '

'What about this broiled bone, Miller?' asked O'Shea. 'I rather think Ilike the notion better than when you proposed it. '

'I suspect you do, ' said the other; 'but we'll have to step over to the"Blue Goat. " It's only a few yards off, and they'll be ready, for Itelegraphed them from town to be prepared as the train came in. '

'You seem to know the place well. '

'Yes. I may say I know something about it. I canvassed this part of thecounty once for one of the Idlers, and I secretly determined, if I everthought of trying for a seat in the House, I'd make the attempt here. Theyare a most pretentious set of beggars these small townsfolk, and they'drather hear themselves talk politics, and give their notions of what theythink "good for Ireland, " than actually pocket bank-notes; and that, my dear friend, is a virtue in a constituency never to be ignored orforgotten. The moment, then, I heard of M----'s retirement, I sent off aconfidential emissary down here to get up what is called a requisition, asking me to stand for the county. Here it is, and the answer, in thismorning's _Freeman_. You can read it at your leisure. Here we are now atthe "Blue Goat"; and I see they are expecting us. '

Not only was there a capital fire in the grate, and the table ready laidfor supper, but a half-dozen or more of the notabilities of Moate were inwaiting to receive the new candidate, and confer with him over the comingcontest. 

'My companion is the nephew of an old neighbour of yours, gentlemen, ' saidMiller; 'Captain Gorman O'Shea, of the Imperial Lancers of Austria. I knowyou have heard of, if you have not seen him. '

A round of very hearty and demonstrative salutations followed, and O'Gormanwas well pleased at the friendly reception accorded him. 

Austria was a great country, one of the company observed. They had gotliberal institutions and a free press, and they were good Catholics, whowould give those heretical Prussians a fine lesson one of these days; andGorman O'Shea's health, coupled with these sentiments, was drank with allthe honours. 

'There's a jolly old face that I ought to remember well, ' said Gorman, ashe looked up at the portrait of Lord Kilgobbin over the chimney. 'When Ientered the service, and came back here on leave, he gave me the firstsword I ever wore, and treated me as kindly as if I was his son. '

The hearty speech elicited no response from the hearers, who only exchangedsignificant looks with each other, while Miller, apparently less underrestraint, broke in with, 'That stupid adventure the English newspaperscalled "The gallant resistance of Kilgobbin Castle" has lost that man theesteem of Irishmen. '

A perfect burst of approval followed these words; and while young O'Sheaeagerly pressed for an explanation of an incident of which he heard for thefirst time, they one and all proceeded to give their versions of what hadoccurred; but with such contradictions, corrections, and emendations thatthe young man might be pardoned if he comprehended little of the event. 

'They say his son will contest the county with you, Mr. Miller, ' cried one. 

'Let me have no weightier rival, and I ask no more. '

'Faix, if he's going to stand, ' said another, 'his father might have takenthe trouble to ask us for our votes. Would you believe it, sir, it's goingon six months since he put his foot in this room?'

'And do the "Goats" stand that?' asked Miller. 

'I don't wonder he doesn't care to come into Moate. There's not a shop inthe town he doesn't owe money to. '

'And we never refused him credit---'

'For anything but his principles, ' chimed in an old fellow, whose oratorywas heartily relished. 

'He's going to stand in the National interest, ' said one. 

'That's the safe ticket when you have no money, ' said another. 

'Gentlemen, ' said Miller, who rose to his legs to give greater importanceto his address:--'If we want to make Ireland a country to live in, theonly party to support is the Whig Government! The Nationalist may open thegaols, give license to the press, hunt down the Orangemen, and make theplace generally too hot for the English. But are these the things that youand I want or strive for? We want order and quietness in the land, and thebest places in it for ourselves to enjoy these blessings. Is Mr. Casey downthere satisfied to keep the post-office in Moate when he knows he couldbe the first secretary in Dublin, at the head office, with two thousand ayear? Will my friend Mr. McGloin say that he'd rather pass his life herethan be a Commissioner of Customs, and live in Merrion Square? Ain'twe men? Ain't we fathers and husbands? Have we not sons to advance anddaughters to marry in the world, and how much will Nationalism do forthese?

'I will not tell you that the Whigs love us or have any strong regard forus; but they need us, gentlemen, and they know well that, without theRadicals, and Scotland, and our party here, they couldn't keep power forthree weeks. Now why is Scotland a great and prosperous country? I'll tellyou. Scotland has no sentimental politics. Scotland says, in her own homelyadage, "Claw me and I'll claw thee. " Scotland insists that there shouldbe Scotchmen everywhere--in the Post-Office, in the Privy Council, inthe Pipewater, and in the Punjab! Does Scotland go on vapouring about anextinct nationality or the right of the Stuarts? Not a bit of it. She says, Burn Scotch coal in the navy, though the smoke may blind you and you neverget up steam! She has no national absurdities: she neither asks for a flagnor a Parliament. She demands only what will pay. And it is by supportingthe Whigs you will make Ireland as prosperous as Scotland. Literally, theFenians, gentlemen, will never make my friend yonder a baronet, or put meon the Bench; and now that we are met here in secret committee, I can sayall this to you and none of it get abroad. 

'Mind, I never told you the Whigs love us, or said that we love the Whigs;but we can each of us help the other. When _they_ smash the Protestantparty, they are doing a fine stroke of work for Liberalism in pullingdown a cruel ascendency and righting the Romanists. And when we crush theProtestants, we are opening the best places in the land to ourselves bygetting rid of our only rivals. Look at the Bench, gentlemen, and the highoffices of the courts. Have not we Papists, as they call us, our sharein both? And this is only the beginning, let me tell you. There is auniversity in College Green due to us, and a number of fine palaces thattheir bishops once lived in, and grand old cathedrals whose very names showthe rightful ownership; and when we have got all these--as the Whigs willgive them one day--even then we are only beginning. And now turn the otherside, and see what you have to expect from the Nationalists. Some very hardfighting and a great number of broken heads. I give in that you'll drivethe English out, take the Pigeon-House Fort, capture the Magazine, andcarry away the Lord-Lieutenant in chains. And what will you have for it, after all, but another scrimmage amongst yourselves for the spoils. Mr. Mullen, of the _Pike_, will want something that Mr. Darby McKeown, of the_Convicted Felon_, has just appropriated; Tom Casidy, that burned the GrandMaster of the Orangemen, finds that he is not to be pensioned for life; andPhil Costigan, that blew up the Lodge in the Park, discovers that he is noteven to get the ruins as building materials. I tell you, my friends, it'snot in such convulsions as these that you and I, and other sensible menlike us, want to pass our lives. We look for a comfortable berth andquarter-day; that's what we compound for--quarter-day--and I give it to youas a toast with all the honours. '

And certainly the rich volume of cheers that greeted the sentiment vouchedfor a hearty and sincere recognition of the toast. 

'The chaise is ready at the door, councillor, ' cried the landlord, addressing Mr. Miller, and after a friendly shake-hands all round, Millerslipped his arm through O'Shea's and drew him apart. 

'I'll be back this way in about ten days or so, and I'll ask you to presentme to your aunt. She has got above a hundred votes on her property, and Ithink I can count upon you to stand by me. '

'I can, perhaps, promise you a welcome at the Barn, ' muttered the youngfellow in some confusion; 'but when you have seen my aunt, you'llunderstand why I give you no pledges on the score of political support. '

'Oh, is that the way?' asked Miller, with a knowing laugh. 

'Yes, that's the way, and no mistake about it, ' replied O'Shea, and theyparted. 

CHAPTER XXXI

HOW THE 'GOATS' REVOLTED

In less than a week after the events last related, the members of the'Goat Club' were summoned to an extraordinary and general meeting, by aninvitation from the vice-president, Mr. McGloin, the chief grocer andhardware dealer of Kilbeggan. The terms of this circular seemed to indicateimportance, for it said--'To take into consideration a matter of vitalinterest to the society. '

Though only the denizen of a very humble country town, McGloin possessedcertain gifts and qualities which might have graced a higher station. Hewas the most self-contained and secret of men; he detected mysteriousmeanings in every--the smallest--event of life; and as he divulged none ofhis discoveries, and only pointed vaguely and dimly to the consequences, hegot credit for the correctness of his unuttered predictions as completelyas though he had registered his prophecies as copyright at Stationers'Hall. It is needless to say that on every question, religious, social, orpolitical, he was the paramount authority of the town. It was but rarelyindeed that a rebellious spirit dared to set up an opinion in opposition tohis; but if such a hazardous event were to occur, he would suppress it witha dignity of manner which derived no small aid from the resources of amind rich in historical parallel; and it was really curious for those whobelieve that history is always repeating itself, to remark how frequentlyJohn McGloin represented the mind and character of Lycurgus, and how oftenpoor old, dreary, and bog-surrounded Moate recalled the image of Sparta andits 'sunny slopes. '

Now, there is one feature of Ireland which I am not quite sure is verygenerally known or appreciated on the other side of St. George's Channel, and this is the fierce spirit of indignation called up in a countyhabitually quiet, when the newspapers bring it to public notice as thescene of some lawless violence. For once there is union amongst Irishmen. Every class, from the estated proprietor to the humblest peasant, is loudin asserting that the story is an infamous falsehood. Magistrates, priests, agents, middlemen, tax-gatherers, and tax-payers rush into print to abusethe 'blackguard'--he is always the blackguard--who invented the lie;and men upwards of ninety are quoted to show that so long as they couldremember, there never was a man injured, nor a rick burned, nor a heiferhamstrung in the six baronies round! Old newspapers are adduced to showhow often the going judge of assize has complimented the grand-jury on thecatalogue of crime; in a word, the whole population is ready to make oaththat the county is little short of a terrestrial paradise, and that it isa district teeming with gentle landlords, pious priests, and industriouspeasants, without a plague-spot on the face of the county, except it bethe police-barrack, and the company of lazy vagabonds with crossbelts andcarbines that lounge before it. When, therefore, the press of Dublin atfirst, and afterwards of the empire at large, related the night attack forarms at Kilgobbin Castle, the first impulse of the county at large wasto rise up in the face of the nation and deny the slander! Magistratesconsulted together whether the high-sheriff should not convene a meeting ofthe county. Priests took counsel with the bishop, whether notice should notbe taken of the calumny from the altar. The small shopkeepers of the smalltowns, assuming that their trade would be impaired by these rumours ofdisturbance--just as Parisians used to declaim against barricades in thestreets--are violent in denouncing the malignant falsehoods upon a quietand harmless community; so that, in fact, every rank and condition viedwith its neighbour in declaring that the whole story was a base tissueof lies, and which could only impose upon those who knew nothing ofthe county, nor of the peaceful, happy, and brother-like creatures whoinhabited it. 

It was not to be supposed that, at such a crisis, Mr. John McGloin would beinactive or indifferent. As a man of considerable influence at elections, he had his weight with a county member, Mr. Price; and to him he wrote, demanding that he should ask in the House what correspondence had passedbetween Mr. Kearney and the Castle authorities with reference to thissupposed outrage, and whether the law-officers of the Crown, or the adviserof the Viceroy, or the chiefs of the local police, or--to quote the exactwords--'any sane or respectable man in the county' believed on word of thestory. Lastly, that he would also ask whether any and what correspondencehad passed between Mr. Kearney and the Chief Secretary with respect to asmall house on the Kilgobbin property, which Mr. Kearney had suggested asa convenient police-station, and for which he asked a rent of twenty-fivepounds per annum; and if such correspondence existed, whether it had any orwhat relation to the rumoured attack on Kilgobbin Castle?

If it should seem strange that a leading member of the 'Goat Club' shouldassail its president, the explanation is soon made: Mr. McGloin had longdesired to be the chief himself. He and many others had seen, with someirritation and displeasure, the growing indifference of Mr. Kearney for the'Goats. ' For many months he had never called them together, and severalmembers had resigned, and many more threatened resignation. It was time, then, that some energetic steps should be taken. The opportunity for thiswas highly favourable. Anything unpatriotic, anything even unpopular inKearney's conduct, would, in the then temper of the club, be sufficient torouse them to actual rebellion; and it was to test this sentiment, and, ifnecessary, to stimulate it, Mr. McGloin convened a meeting, which abylaw of the society enabled him to do at any period when, for the threepreceding months, the president had not assembled the club. 

Though the members generally were not a little proud of their president, and deemed it considerable glory to them to have a viscount for theirchief, and though it gave great dignity to their debates that the risingspeaker should begin 'My Lord and Buck Goat, ' yet they were not withoutdissatisfaction at seeing how cavalierly he treated them, what slight valuehe appeared to attach to their companionship, and how perfectly indifferenthe seemed to their opinions, their wishes, or their wants. 

There were various theories in circulation to explain this change of temperin their chief. Some ascribed it to young Kearney, who was a 'stuck-up'young fellow, and wanted his father to give himself greater airs andpretensions. Others opinioned it was the daughter, who, though she playedLady Bountiful among the poor cottiers, and affected interest in thepeople, was in reality the proudest of them all. And last of all, therewere some who, in open defiance of chronology, attributed the change to apost-dated event, and said that the swells from the Castle were the ruinof Mathew Kearney, and that he was never the same man since the day he sawthem. 

Whether any of these were the true solution of the difficulty or not, Kearney's popularity was on the decline at the moment when this unfortunatenarrative of the attack on his castle aroused the whole county and excitedtheir feelings against him. Mr. McGloin took every step of his proceedingwith due measure and caution: and having secured a certain number ofpromises of attendance at the meeting, he next notified to his lordship, how, in virtue of a certain section of a certain law, he had exercised hisright of calling the members together; and that he now begged respectfullyto submit to the chief, that some of the matters which would be submittedto the collective wisdom would have reference to the 'Buck Goat' himself, and that it would be an act of great courtesy on his part if he shouldcondescend to be present and afford some explanation. 

That the bare possibility of being called to account by the 'Goats' woulddrive Kearney into a ferocious passion, if not a fit of the gout, McGloinknew well; and that the very last thing on his mind would be to comeamongst them, he was equally sure of: so that in giving his invitationthere was no risk whatever. Mathew Kearney's temper was no secret; andwhenever the necessity should arise that a burst of indiscreet anger shouldbe sufficient to injure a cause, or damage a situation, 'the lord' could becalculated on with a perfect security. McGloin understood this thoroughly;nor was it matter of surprise to him that a verbal reply of 'There isno answer' was returned to his note; while the old servant, instead ofstopping the ass-cart as usual for the weekly supply of groceries atMcGloin's, repaired to a small shop over the way, where colonial productswere rudely jostled out of their proper places by coils of rope, sacks ofrape-seed, glue, glass, and leather, amid which the proprietor felt farmore at home than amidst mixed pickles and mocha. 

Mr. McGloin, however, had counted the cost of his policy: he knew well thatfor the ambition to succeed his lordship as Chief of the Club, he shouldhave to pay by the loss of the Kilgobbin custom; and whether it was thatthe greatness in prospect was too tempting to resist, or that the sacrificewas smaller than it might have seemed, he was prepared to risk the venture. 

The meeting was in so far a success that it was fully attended. Such aflock of 'Goats' had not been seen by them since the memory of man, nor wasthe unanimity less remarkable than the number; and every paragraph ofMr. McGloin's speech was hailed with vociferous cheers and applause, thesentiment of the assembly being evidently highly National, and the feelingthat the shame which the Lord of Kilgobbin had brought down upon theircounty was a disgrace that attached personally to each man there present;and that if now their once happy and peaceful district was to be proclaimedunder some tyranny of English law, or, worse still, made a mark for theinsult and sarcasm of the _Times_ newspaper, they owed the disaster and theshame to no other than Mathew Kearney himself. 

'I will now conclude with a resolution, ' said McGloin, who, having filledthe measure of allegation, proceeded to the application. 'I shall move thatit is the sentiment of this meeting that Lord Kilgobbin be called on todisavow, in the newspapers, the whole narrative which has been circulatedof the attack on his house; that he declare openly that the supposedincident was a mistake caused by the timorous fears of his household, during his own absence from home: terrors aggravated by the unwarrantableanxiety of an English visitor, whose ignorance of Ireland had worked uponan excited imagination; and that a copy of the resolution be presented tohis lordship, either in letter or by a deputation, as the meeting shalldecide. '

While the discussion was proceeding as to the mode in which this boldresolution should be most becomingly brought under Lord Kilgobbin's notice, a messenger on horseback arrived with a letter for McGloin. The bearer wasin the Kilgobbin livery, and a massive seal, with the noble lord's arms, attested the despatch to be from himself. 

'Shall I put the resolution to the vote, or read this letter first, gentlemen?' said the chairman. 

'Read! read!' was the cry, and he broke the seal. It ran thus:--

'Mr. McGloin, --Will you please to inform the members of the "Goat Club" atMoate that I retire from the presidency, and cease to be a member of thatsociety? I was vain enough to believe at one time that the humanisingelement of even one gentleman in the vulgar circle of a little obscuretown, might have elevated the tone of manners and the spirit of socialintercourse. I have lived to discover my great mistake, and that theleadership of a man like yourself is far more likely to suit the instinctsand chime in with the sentiments of such a body. --Your obedient andfaithful servant, Kilgobbin. '

The cry which followed the reading of this document can only be describedas a howl. It was like the enraged roar of wild animals, rather than theunion of human voices; and it was not till after a considerable intervalthat McGloin could obtain a hearing. He spoke with great vigour andfluency. He denounced the letter as an outrage which should be proclaimedfrom one end of Europe to the other; that it was not their town, or theirclub, or themselves had been insulted, but Ireland! that this mock-lord(cheers)--this sham viscount--(greater cheers)--this Brummagem peer, whosenobility their native courtesy and natural urbanity had so long deigned toaccept as real, should now be taught that his pretensions only existed onsufferance, and had no claim beyond the polite condescension of men whomit was no stretch of imagination to call the equals of Mathew Kearney. The cries that received this were almost deafening, and lasted for someminutes. 

'Send the ould humbug his picture there, ' cried a voice from the crowd, andthe sentiment was backed by a roar of voices; and it was at once decreedthe portrait should accompany the letter which the indignant 'Goats' nowcommissioned their chairman to compose. 

That same evening saw the gold-framed picture on its way to KilgobbinCastle, with an ample-looking document, whose contents we have no curiosityto transcribe--nor, indeed, is the whole incident one which we should havecared to obtrude upon our readers, save as a feeble illustration of the wayin which the smaller rills of public opinion swell the great streams oflife, and how the little events of existence serve now as impulses, nowobstacles, to the larger interests that sway fortune. So long as MathewKearney drank his punch at the 'Blue Goat' he was a patriot and aNationalist; but when he quarrelled with his flock, he renounced hisIrishry, and came out a Whig. 

CHAPTER XXXII

AN UNLOOKED-FOR PLEASURE

When Dick Kearney waited on Cecil Walpole at his quarters in the Castle, hewas somewhat surprised to find that gentleman more reserved in manner, andin general more distant, than when he had seen him as his father's guest. 

Though he extended two fingers of his hand on entering, and begged him tobe seated, Walpole did not take a chair himself, but stood with his back tothe fire--the showy skirts of a very gorgeous dressing-gown displayed overhis arms--where he looked like some enormous bird exulting in the fulleffulgence of his bright plumage. 

'You got my note, Mr. Kearney?' began he, almost before the other hadsat down, with the air of a man whose time was too precious for merepoliteness. 

'It is the reason of my present visit, ' said Dick dryly. 

'Just so. His Excellency instructed me to ascertain in what shape mostacceptable to your family he might show the sense entertained by theGovernment of that gallant defence of Kilgobbin; and believing that thebest way to meet a man's wishes is first of all to learn what the wishesare, I wrote you the few lines of yesterday. '

'I suspect there must be a mistake somewhere, ' began Kearney, withdifficulty. 'At least, I intimated to Atlee the shape in which theViceroy's favour would be most agreeable to us, and I came here prepared tofind you equally informed on the matter. '

'Ah, indeed! I know nothing--positively nothing. Atlee telegraphed me, "SeeKearney, and hear what he has to say. I write by post. --ATLEE. " There's thewhole of it. '

'And the letter--'

'The letter is there. It came by the late mail, and I have not opened it. '

'Would it not be better to glance over it now?' said Dick mildly. 

'Not if you can give me the substance by word of mouth. Time, they tellus, is money, and as I have got very little of either, I am obliged to beparsimonious. What is it you want? I mean the sort of thing we could helpyou to obtain. I see, ' said he, smiling, 'you had rather I should readAtlee's letter. Well, here goes. ' He broke the envelope, and began:--

'"MY DEAR MR. WALPOLE, --I hoped by this time to have had a report to makeyou of what I had done, heard, seen, and imagined since my arrival, and yethere I am now towards the close of my second week, and I have nothing totell; and beyond a sort of confused sense of being immensely delighted withmy mode of life, I am totally unconscious of the flight of time. 

'"His Excellency received me once for ten minutes, and later on, after somedays, for half an hour; for he is confined to bed with gout, and forbiddenby his doctor all mental labour. He was kind and courteous to a degree, hoped I should endeavour to make myself at home--giving orders at the sametime that my dinner should be served at my own hour, and the stables placedat my disposal for riding or driving. For occupation, he suggested I shouldsee what the newspapers were saying, and make a note or two if anythingstruck me as remarkable. 

'"Lady Maude is charming--and I use the epithet in all the significance ofits sorcery. She conveys to me each morning his Excellency's instructionsfor my day's work; and it is only by a mighty effort I can tear myself fromthe magic thrill of her voice, and the captivation of her manner, to followwhat I have to reply to, investigate, and remark on. 

'"I meet her each day at luncheon, and she says she will join me 'some dayat dinner. ' When that glorious occasion arrives, I shall call it theevent of my life, for her mere presence stimulates me to such effort inconversation that I feel in the very lassitude afterwards what a strain myfaculties have undergone. "'

'What an insufferable coxcomb, and an idiot to boot!' cried Walpole. 'I could not do him a more spiteful turn than to tell my cousin of herconquest. There is another page, I see, of the same sort. But here youare--this is all about you: I'll read it. "In _re_ Kearney. The Irish arealways logical; and as Miss Kearney once shot some of her countrymen, whenon a mission they deemed National, her brother opines that he ought torepresent the principles thus involved in Parliament. "'

'Is this the way in which he states my claims!' broke in Dick, withill-suppressed passion. 

'Bear in mind, Mr. Kearney, this jest, and a very poor one it is, was meantfor me alone. The communication is essentially private, and it is onlythrough my indiscretion you know anything of it whatever. '

'I am not aware that any confidence should entitle him to write such animpertinence. '

'In that case, I shall read no more, ' said Walpole, as he slowly refoldedthe letter. ' The fault is all on my side, Mr. Kearney, ' he continued;' butI own I thought you knew your friend so thoroughly that extravagance on hispart could have neither astonished nor provoked you. '

'You are perfectly right, Mr. Walpole; I apologise for my impatience. Itwas, perhaps, in hearing his words read aloud by another that I forgotmyself, and if you will kindly continue the reading, I will promise tobehave more suitably in future. '

Walpole reopened the letter, but, whether indisposed to trust the pledgethus given, or to prolong the interview, ran his eyes over one side andthen turned to the last page. 'I see, ' said he, 'he augurs ill as to yourchances of success; he opines that you have not well calculated the greatcost of the venture, and that in all probability it has been suggested bysome friend of questionable discretion. "At all events, "' and here he readaloud--'"at all events, his Excellency says, 'We should like to mark theKilgobbin affair by some show of approbation; and though supporting youngK. In a contest for his county is a "higher figure" than we meant to pay, see him, and hear what he has to say of his prospects--what he can do toobtain a seat, and what he will do if he gets one. We need not cautionhim against'"--'hum, hum, hum, ' muttered he, slurring over the words, andendeavouring to pass on to something else. 

'May I ask against what I am supposed to be so secure?'

'Oh, nothing, nothing. A very small impertinence, but which Mr. Atlee foundirresistible. '

'Pray let me hear it. It shall not irritate me. '

'He says, "There will be no more a fear of bribery in your case than of adebauch at Father Mathew's. "'

'He is right there, ' said Kearney. 'The only difference is that ourforbearance will be founded on something stronger than a pledge. '

Walpole looked at the speaker, and was evidently struck by the calm commandhe had displayed of his passion. 

'If we could forget Joe Atlee for a few minutes, Mr. Walpole, we mightpossibly gain something. I, at least, would be glad to know how far I mightcount on the Government aid in my project. '

'Ah, you want to--in fact, you would like that we should give you somethinglike a regular--eh?--that is to say, that you could declare to certainpeople--naturally enough, I admit; but here is how we are, Kearney. Of course what I say now is literally between ourselves, and strictlyconfidential. '

'I shall so understand it, ' said the other gravely. 

'Well, now, here it is. The Irish vote, as the Yankees would call it, is ofundoubted value to us, but it is confoundedly dear! With Cardinal Cullen onone side and Fenianism on the other, we have no peace. Time was when youall pulled the one way, and a sop to the Pope pleased you all. Now thatwill suffice no longer. The "Sovereign Pontiff dodge" is the surest of allways to offend the Nationals; so that, in reality, what we want in theHouse is a number of Liberal Irishmen who will trust the Government to doas much for the Catholic Church as English bigotry will permit, and as muchfor the Irish peasant as will not endanger the rights of property over theChannel. '

'There's a wide field there, certainly, ' said Dick, smiling. 

'Is there not?' cried the other exultingly. 'Not only does it bowl over theEstablished Church and Protestant ascendency, but it inverts the positionof landlord and tenant. To unsettle everything in Ireland, so that anybodymight hope to be anything, or to own Heaven knows what--to legalisegambling for existence to a people who delight in high play, and yet notinvolve us in a civil war--was a grand policy, Kearney, a very grandpolicy. Not that I expect a young, ardent spirit like yourself, fresh fromcollege ambitions and high-flown hopes, will take this view. '

Dick only smiled and shook his head. 

'Just so, ' resumed Walpole. 'I could not expect you to like this programme, and I know already all that you allege against it; but, as B. Says, Kearney, the man who rules Ireland must know how to take command of aship in a state of mutiny, and yet never suppress the revolt. There's theproblem--as much discipline as you can, as much indiscipline as youcan bear. The brutal old Tories used to master the crew and hang theringleaders; and for that matter, they might have hanged the whole ship'scompany. We know better, Kearney; and we have so confused and addled themby our policy, that, if a fellow were to strike his captain, he would neverbe quite sure whether he was to be strung up at the gangway or made apetty-officer. Do you see it now?'

'I can scarcely say that I do see it--I mean, that I see it as _you_ do. '

'I scarcely could hope that you should, or, at least, that you should doso at once; but now, as to this seat for King's County, I believe we havealready found our man. I'll not be sure, nor will I ask you to regard thematter as fixed on, but I suspect we are in relations--you know what Imean--with an old supporter, who has been beaten half-a-dozen times in ourinterest, but is coming up once more. I'll ascertain about this positively, and let you know. And then'--here he drew breath freely and talked more atease--'if we should find our hands free, and that we see our way clearlyto support you, what assurance could you give us that you would go throughwith the contest, and fight the battle out?'

'I believe, if I engage in the struggle, I shall continue to the end, ' saidDick, half doggedly. 

'Your personal pluck and determination I do not question for a moment. Now, let us see'--here he seemed to ruminate for some seconds, and looked likeone debating a matter with himself. 'Yes, ' cried he at last, 'I believethat will be the best way. I am sure it will. When do you go back, Mr. Kearney--to Kilgobbin, I mean?'

'My intention was to go down the day after to-morrow. '

'That will be Friday. Let us see, what is Friday? Friday is the 15th, is itnot?'

'Yes. '

'Friday'--muttered the other--'Friday? There's the Education Board, and theHarbour Commissioners, and something else at--to be sure, a visit to thePopish schools with Dean O'Mahony. You couldn't make it Saturday, couldyou?'

'Not conveniently. I had already arranged a plan for Saturday. But whyshould I delay here--to what end?'

'Only that, if you could say Saturday, I would like to go down with you. '

From the mode in which he said these words, it was clear that he looked foran almost rapturous acceptance of his gracious proposal; but Dick did notregard the project in that light, nor was he overjoyed in the least at theproposal. 

'I mean, ' said Walpole, hastening to relieve the awkwardness of silence--'Imean that I could talk over this affair with your father in a practicalbusiness fashion, that you could scarcely enter into. Still, if Saturdaycould not be managed, I'll try if I could not run down with you on Friday. Only for a day, remember, I must return by the evening train. We shallarrive by what hour?'

'By breakfast-time, ' said Dick, but still not over-graciously. 

'Nothing could be better; that will give us a long day, and I should likea full discussion with your father. You'll manage to send me on to--what'sthe name?'

'Moate. '

'Moate. Yes; that's the place. The up-train leaves at midnight, I remember. Now that's all settled. You'll take me up, then, here on Friday morning, Kearney, on your way to the station, and meanwhile I'll set to work, andput off these deputations and circulars till Saturday, when, I remember, Ihave a dinner with the provost. Is there anything more to be thought of?'

'I believe not, ' muttered Dick, still sullenly. 

'Bye-bye, then, till Friday morning, ' said he, as he turned towards hisdesk, and began arranging a mass of papers before him. 

'Here's a jolly mess with a vengeance, ' muttered Kearney, as he descendedthe stair. 'The Viceroy's private secretary to be domesticated with a"head-centre" and an escaped convict. There's not even the doubtful comfortof being able to make my family assist me through the difficulty. '

CHAPTER XXXIII

PLMNUDDM CASTLE, NORTH WALES

Among the articles of that wardrobe of Cecil Walpole's of which Atleehad possessed himself so unceremoniously, there was a very gorgeous bluedress-coat, with the royal button and a lining of sky-blue silk, whichformed the appropriate costume of the gentlemen of the viceregal household. This, with a waistcoat to match, Atlee had carried off with him inthe indiscriminating haste of a last moment, and although thoroughlyunderstanding that he could not avail himself of a costume so distinctivelythe mark of a condition, yet, by one of the contrarieties of his strangenature, in which the desire for an assumption of any kind was a passion, hehad tried on that coat fully a dozen times, and while admiring how well itbecame him, and how perfectly it seemed to suit his face and figure, he haddramatised to himself the part of an aide-de-camp in waiting, rehearsingthe little speeches in which he presented this or that imaginary person tohis Excellency, and coining the small money of epigram in which he relatedthe news of the day. 

'How I should cut out those dreary subalterns with their mess-roomdrolleries, how I should shame those tiresome cornets, whose only glitteris on their sabretaches!' muttered he, as he surveyed himself in hiscourtly attire. 'It is all nonsense to say that the dress a man wears canonly impress the surrounders. It is on himself, on his own natureand temper, his mind, his faculties, his very ambition, there is atransformation effected; and I, Joe Atlee, feel myself, as I move about inthis costume, a very different man from that humble creature in grey tweed, whose very coat reminds him he is a "cad, " and who has but to look in theglass to read his condition. '

On the morning he learned that Lady Maude would join him that day atdinner, Atlee conceived the idea of appearing in this costume. It was notonly that she knew nothing of the Irish Court and its habits, but she madean almost ostentatious show of her indifference to all about it, and in thefew questions she asked, the tone of interrogation might have suited Africaas much as Ireland. It was true, she was evidently puzzled to know whatplace or condition Atlee occupied; his name was not familiar to her, andyet he seemed to know everything and everybody, enjoyed a large share ofhis Excellency's confidence, and appeared conversant with every detailplaced before him. 

That she would not directly ask him what place he occupied in the householdhe well knew, and he felt at the same time what a standing and positionthat costume would give him, what self-confidence and ease it would alsoconfer, and how, for once in his life, free from the necessity of assertinga station, he could devote all his energies to the exercise of agreeabilityand those resources of small-talk in which he knew he was a master. 

Besides all this, it was to be his last day at the castle--he was to startthe next morning for Constantinople, with all instructions regarding thespy Speridionides, and he desired to make a favourable impression on LadyMaude before he left. Though intensely, even absurdly vain, Atlee was oneof those men who are so eager for success in life that they are ever on thewatch lest any weakness of disposition or temper should serve to compromisetheir chances, and in this way he was led to distrust what he would in hispuppyism have liked to have thought a favourable effect produced by him onher ladyship. She was intensely cold in manner, and yet he had made hermore than once listen to him with interest. She rarely smiled, and he hadmade her actually laugh. Her apathy appeared complete, and yet he had sopiqued her curiosity that she could not forbear a question. 

Acting as her uncle's secretary, and in constant communication with him, itwas her affectation to imagine herself a political character, and she didnot scruple to avow the hearty contempt she felt for the usual occupationof women's lives. Atlee's knowledge, therefore, actually amazed her: hishardihood, which never forsook him, enabled him to give her the mostpositive assurances on anything he spoke; and as he had already fathomedthe chief prejudices of his Excellency, and knew exactly where and towhat his political wishes tended, she heard nothing from her uncle butexpressions of admiration for the just views, the clear and definite ideas, and the consummate skill with which that 'young fellow' distinguishedhimself. 

'We shall have him in the House one of these days, ' he would say; 'and I ammuch mistaken if he will not make a remarkable figure there. '

When Lady Maude sailed proudly into the library before dinner, Atleewas actually stunned by amazement at her beauty. Though not in actualevening-dress, her costume was that sort of demi-toilet compromise whichoccasionally is most becoming; and the tasteful lappet of Brussels lace, which, interwoven with her hair, fell down on either side so as to frameher face, softened its expression to a degree of loveliness he was notprepared for. 

It was her pleasure--her caprice, perhaps--to be on this occasion unusuallyamiable and agreeable. Except by a sort of quiet dignity, there was nocoldness, and she spoke of her uncle's health and hopes just as she mighthave discussed them with an old friend of the house. 

When the butler flung wide the folding-doors into the dining-room andannounced dinner, she was about to move on, when she suddenly stopped, andsaid, with a faint smile, 'Will you give me your arm?' Very simple words, and commonplace too, but enough to throw Atlee's whole nature into aconvulsion of delight. And as he walked at her side it was in the veryecstasy of pride and exultation. 

Dinner passed off with the decorous solemnity of that meal, at whichthe most emphatic utterances were the butler's 'Marcobrunner, ' or'Johannisberg. ' The guests, indeed, spoke little, and the strangeness oftheir situation rather disposed to thought than conversation. 

'You are going to Constantinople to-morrow, Mr. Atlee, my uncle tells me, 'said she, after a longer silence than usual. 

'Yes; his Excellency has charged me with a message, of which I hope toacquit myself well, though I own to my misgivings about it now. '

'You are too diffident, perhaps, of your powers, ' said she; and there was afaint curl of the lip that made the words sound equivocally. 

'I do not know if great modesty be amongst my failings, ' said helaughingly. 'My friends would say not. '

'You mean, perhaps, that you are not without ambitions?'

'That is true. I confess to very bold ones. ' And as he spoke he stole aglance towards her; but her pale face never changed. 

'I wish, before you had gone, that you had settled that stupid muddle aboutthe attack on--I forget the place. '

'Kilgobbin?'

'Yes, Kil-gobbin--horrid name!--for the Premier still persists in thinkingthere was something in it, and worrying my uncle for explanations; and assomebody is to ask something when Parliament meets, it would be as well tohave a letter to read to the House. '

'In what sense, pray?' asked Atlee mildly. 

'Disavowing all: stating the story had no foundation: that there was noattack--no resistance--no member of the viceregal household present at anytime. '

'That would be going too far; for then we should next have to denyWalpole's broken arm and his long confinement to house. '

'You may serve coffee in a quarter of an hour, Marcom, ' said she, dismissing the butler; and then, as he left the room--'And you tell meseriously there was a broken arm in this case?'

'I can hide nothing from you, though I have taken an oath to silence, 'said he, with an energy that seemed to defy repression. 'I will tell youeverything, though it's little short of a perjury, only premising thismuch, that I know nothing from Walpole himself. '

With this much of preface, he went on to describe Walpole's visit toKilgobbin as one of those adventurous exploits which young Englishmen fancythey have a sort of right to perform in the less civilised country. 'Heimagined, I have no doubt, ' said he, 'that he was studying the condition ofIreland, and investigating the land question, when he carried on a fierceflirtation with a pretty Irish girl. '

'And there was a flirtation?'

'Yes, but nothing more. Nothing really serious at any time. So far hebehaved frankly and well, for even at the outset of the affair he ownedto--a what shall I call it?--an entanglement was, I believe, his ownword--an entanglement in England--'

'Did he not state more of this entanglement, with whom it was, or how, orwhere?'

'I should think not. At all events, they who told me knew nothing of thesedetails. They only knew, as he said, that he was in a certain sense tiedup, and that till Fate unbound him he was a prisoner. '

'Poor fellow, it _was_ hard. '

'So _he_ said, and so _they_ believed him. Not that I myself believe he wasever seriously in love with the Irish girl. '

'And why not?'

'I may be wrong in my reading of him; but my impression is that he regardsmarriage as one of those solemn events which should contribute to a man'sworldly fortune. Now an Irish connection could scarcely be the road tothis. '

'What an ungallant admission, ' said she, with a smile. 'I hope Mr. Walpoleis not of your mind. ' After a pause she said, 'And how was it that in yourintimacy he told you nothing of this?'

He shook his head in dissent. 

'Not even of the "entanglement"?'

'Not even of that. He would speak freely enough of his "egregious blunder, "as he called it, in quitting his career and coming to Ireland; that it wasa gross mistake for any man to take up Irish politics as a line in life;that they were puzzles in the present and lead to nothing in the future, and, in fact, that he wished himself back again in Italy every day helived. '

'Was there any "entanglement" there also?'

'I cannot say. On these he made me no confidences. '

'Coffee, my lady!' said the butler, entering at this moment. Nor was Atleegrieved at the interruption. 

'I am enough of a Turk, ' said she laughingly, 'to like that muddy, strongcoffee they give you in the East, and where the very smallness of the cupssuggests its strength. You, I know, are impatient for your cigarette, Mr. Atlee, and I am about to liberate you. ' While Atlee was muttering hisassurances of how much he prized her presence, she broke in, 'Besides, I promised my uncle a visit before tea-time, and as I shall not see youagain, I will wish you now a pleasant journey and a safe return. '

'Wish me success in my expedition, ' said he eagerly. 

'Yes, I will wish that also. One word more. I am very short-sighted, as youmay see, but you wear a ring of great beauty. May I look at it?'

'It is pretty, certainly. It was a present Walpole made me. I am not surethat there is not a story attached to it, though I don't know it. '

'Perhaps it may be linked with the "entanglement, '" said she, laughingsoftly. 

'For aught I know, so it may. Do you admire it?'

'Immensely, ' said she, as she held it to the light. 

'You can add immensely to its value if you will, ' said he diffidently. 

'In what way?'

[Illustration: 'You wear a ring of great beauty--may I look at it?']

'By keeping it, Lady Maude, ' said he; and for once his cheek coloured withthe shame of his own boldness. 

'May I purchase it with one of my own? Will you have this, or this?' saidshe hurriedly. 

'Anything that once was yours, ' said he, in a mere whisper. 

'Good-bye, Mr. Atlee. '

And he was alone!

CHAPTER XXXIV

AT TEA-TIME

The family at Kilgobbin Castle were seated at tea when Dick Kearney'stelegram arrived. It bore the address, 'Lord Kilgobbin, ' and ran thus:'Walpole wishes to speak with you, and will come down with me on Friday;his stay cannot be beyond one day. --RICHARD KEARNEY. '

'What can he want with me?' cried Kearney, as he tossed over the despatchto his daughter. 'If he wants to talk over the election, I could tell himper post that I think it a folly and an absurdity. Indeed, if he is notcoming to propose for either my niece or my daughter, he might sparehimself the journey. '

'Who is to say that such is not his intention, papa?' said Kate merrily. 'Old Catty had a dream about a piebald horse and a haystack on fire, andsomething about a creel of duck eggs, and I trust that every educatedperson knows what _they_ mean. '

'I do not, ' cried Nina boldly. 

'Marriage, my dear. One is marriage by special license, with a bishop or adean to tie the knot; another is a runaway match. I forget what the eggssignify. '

'An unbroken engagement, ' interposed Donogan gravely, 'so long as none ofthem are smashed. '

'On the whole, then, it is very promising tidings, ' said Kate. 

'It may be easy to be more promising than the election, ' said the old man. 

'I'm not flattered, uncle, to hear that I am easier to win than a seat inParliament. '

'That does not imply you are not worth a great deal more, ' said Kearney, with an air of gallantry. 'I know if I was a young fellow which I'd strivemost for. Eh, Mr. Daniel? I see you agree with me. '

Donogan's face, slightly flushed before, became now crimson as he sippedhis tea in confusion, unable to utter a word. 

'And so, ' resumed Kearney, 'he'll only give us a day to make up our minds!It's lucky, girls, that you have the telegram there to tell you what'scoming. '

'It would have been more piquant, papa, if he had made his message say, "Ipropose for Nina. Reply by wire. "'

'Or, "May I marry your daughter?" chimed in Nina quickly. 

'There it is, now, ' broke in Kearney, laughing, 'you're fighting for himalready! Take my word for it, Mr. Daniel, there's no so sure way to get agirl for a wife, as to make her believe there's another only waiting to beasked. It's the threat of the opposition coach on the road keeps down thefares. '

'Papa is all wrong, ' said Kate. 'There is no such conceivable pleasure assaying No to a man that another woman is ready to accept. It is about themost refined sort of self-flattery imaginable. '

'Not to say that men are utterly ignorant of that freemasonry among womenwhich gives us all an interest in the man who marries one of us, ' saidNina. 'It is only your confirmed old bachelor that we all agree indetesting. '

''Faith, I give you up altogether. You're a puzzle clean beyond me, ' saidKearney, with a sigh. 

'I think it is Balzac tells us, ' said Donogan, 'that women and politics arethe only two exciting pursuits in life, for you never can tell where eitherof them will lead you. '

'And who is Balzac?' asked Kearney. 

'Oh, uncle, don't let me hear you ask who is the greatest novelist thatever lived. '

''Faith, my dear, except _Tristram Shandy_ and _Tom Jones_, and maybe_Robinson Crusoe_--if that be a novel--my experience goes a short way. WhenI am not reading what's useful--as in the _Farmer's Chronicle_ or Purcell's"Rotation of Crops"--I like the "Accidents" in the newspapers, where theygive you the name of the gentleman that was smashed in the train, and tellyou how his wife was within ten days of her third confinement; how it wasonly last week he got a step as a clerk in Somerset House. Haven't you morematerials for a sensation novel there than any of your three-volume fellowswill give you?'

'The times we are living in give most of us excitement enough, ' saidDonogan. 'The man who wants to gamble for life itself need not be balkednow. '

'You mean that a man can take a shot at an emperor?' said Kearneyinquiringly. 

'No, not that exactly; though there are stakes of that kind some men wouldnot shrink from. What are called "arms of precision" have had a greatinfluence on modern politics. When there's no time for a plebiscite, there's always time for a pistol. '

'Bad morality, Mr. Daniel, ' said Kearney gravely. 

'I suspect we do not fairly measure what Mr. Daniel says, ' broke in Kate. 'He may mean to indicate a revolution, and not justify it. '

'I mean both!' said Donogan. 'I mean that the mere permission to live undera bad government is too high a price to pay for life at all. I'd rather go"down into the streets, " as they call it, and have it out, than I'd drudgeon, dogged by policemen, and sent to gaol on suspicion. '

'He is right, ' cried Nina. 'If I were a man, I'd think as he does. '

'Then I'm very glad you're not, ' said Kearney; 'though, for the matter ofrebellion, I believe you would be a more dangerous Fenian as you are. Am Iright, Mr. Daniel?'

'I am disposed to say you are, sir, ' was his mild reply. 

'Ain't we important people this evening!' cried Kearney, as the servantentered with another telegram. 'This is for you, Mr. Daniel. I hope we'reto hear that the Cabinet wants you in Downing Street. '

'I'd rather it did not, ' said he, with a very peculiar smile, which didnot escape Kate's keen glance across the table, as he said, 'May I read mydespatch?'

'By all means, ' said Kearney; while, to leave him more undisturbed, heturned to Nina, with some quizzical remark about her turn for the telegraphcoming next. 'What news would you wish it should bring you, Nina?' askedhe. 

'I scarcely know. I have so many things to wish for, I should be puzzledwhich to place first. '

'Should you like to be Queen of Greece?' asked Kate. 

'First tell me if there is to be a King, and who is he?'

'Maybe it's Mr. Daniel there, for I see he has gone off in a great hurry tosay he accepts the crown. '

'What should you ask for, Kate, ' cried Nina, 'if Fortune were civil enoughto give you a chance?'

'Two days' rain for my turnips, ' said Kate quickly. 'I don't rememberwishing for anything so much in all my life. '

'Your turnips!' cried Nina contemptuously. 

'Why not? If you were a queen, would you not have to think of those whodepended on you for support and protection? And how should I forget my poorheifers and my calves--calves of very tender years some of them--and allwith as great desire to fatten themselves as any of us have to do what willas probably lead to our destruction?'

'You're not going to have the rain, anyhow, ' said Kearney; 'and you'll notbe sorry, Nina, for you wanted a fine day to finish your sketch of CroghanCastle. '

'Oh! by the way, has old Bob recovered from his lameness yet, to be fit tobe driven?'

'Ask Kitty there; she can tell you, perhaps. '

'Well, I don't think I'd harness him yet. The smith has pinched him in theoff fore-foot, and he goes tender still. '

'So do I when I go afoot, for I hate it, ' cried Nina; 'and I want a day inthe open air, and I want to finish my old Castle of Croghan--and last ofall, ' whispered she in Kate's ear, 'I want to show my distinguished friendMr. Walpole that the prospect of a visit from him does not induce me tokeep the house. So that, from all the wants put together, I shall take anearly breakfast, and start to-morrow for Cruhan--is not that the name ofthe little village in the bog?'

'That's Miss Betty's own townland--though I don't know she's much thericher of her tenants, ' said Kearney, laughing. 'The oldest inhabitantsnever remember a rent-day. '

'What a happy set of people!'

'Just the reverse. You never saw misery till you saw them. There is not acabin fit for a human being, nor is there one creature in the place withenough rags to cover him. '

'They were very civil as I drove through. I remember how a little baskethad fallen out, and a girl followed me ten miles of the road to restoreit, ' said Nina. 

'That they would; and if it were a purse of gold they 'd have done thesame, ' cried Kate. 

'Won't you say that they'd shoot you for half a crown, though?' saidKearney, 'and that the worst "Whiteboys" of Ireland come out of the samevillage?'

'I do like a people so unlike all the rest of the world, ' cried Nina;'whose motives none can guess at, none forecast. I'll go there to-morrow. '

These words were said as Daniel had just re-entered the room, and hestopped and asked, 'Where to?'

'To a Whiteboy village called Cruhan, some ten miles off, close to an oldcastle I have been sketching. '

'Do you mean to go there to-morrow?' asked he, half-carelessly; but notwaiting for her answer, and as if fully preoccupied, he turned and left theroom. 

CHAPTER XXXV

A DRIVE AT SUNRISE

The little basket-carriage in which Nina made her excursions, and whichcourtesy called a phaeton, would scarcely have been taken as a model atLong Acre. A massive old wicker-cradle constituted the body, which, from aslight inequality in the wheels, had got an uncomfortable 'lurch to port, 'while the rumble was supplied by a narrow shelf, on which her foot-pagesat _dos à dos_ to herself--a position not rendered more dignified by hisinvariable habit of playing pitch-and-toss with himself, as a means ofdistraction in travel. 

Except Bob, the sturdy little pony in the shafts, nothing could be lessschooled or disciplined than Larry himself. At sight of a party at marblesor hopscotch, he was sure to desert his post, trusting to short cuts andspeed to catch up his mistress later on. 

As for Bob, a tuft of clover or fresh grass on the roadside weretemptations to the full as great to him, and no amount of whipping couldinduce him to continue his road leaving these dainties untasted. As in Mr. Gill's time, he had carried that important personage, he had contracted thehabit of stopping at every cabin by the way, giving to each halt the amountof time he believed the colloquy should have occupied, and then, withoutany admonition, resuming his journey. In fact, as an index to therefractory tenants on the estate, his mode of progression, with itsinterruptions, might have been employed, and the sturdy fashion in whichhe would 'draw up' at certain doors might be taken as the forerunner of anejectment. 

The blessed change by which the county saw the beast now driven by abeautiful young lady, instead of bestrode by an inimical bailiff, added toa popularity which Ireland in her poorest and darkest hour always accordsto beauty; and they, indeed, who trace points of resemblance betweentwo distant peoples, have not failed to remark that the Irish, like theItalians, invariably refer all female loveliness to that type of surpassingexcellence, the Madonna. 

Nina had too much of the South in her blood not to like the heartfelt, outspoken admiration which greeted her as she went; and the 'God blessyou--but you are a lovely crayture!' delighted, while it amused her in theway the qualification was expressed. 

It was soon after sunrise on this Friday morning that she drove down theapproach, and made her way across the bog towards Cruhan. Though pretendingto her uncle to be only eager to finish her sketch of Croghan Castle, herjourney was really prompted by very different considerations. By Dick'stelegram she learned that Walpole was to arrive that day at Kilgobbin, and as his stay could not be prolonged beyond the evening, she secretlydetermined she would absent herself so much as she could from home--onlyreturning to a late dinner--and thus show her distinguished friend howcheaply she held the occasion of his visit, and what value she attached tothe pleasure of seeing him at the castle. 

She knew Walpole thoroughly--she understood the working of such a nature toperfection, and she could calculate to a nicety the mortification, and evenanger, such a man would experience at being thus slighted. 'These men, 'thought she, 'only feel for what is done to them before the world: it isthe insult that is passed upon them in public, the _soufflet_ that is givenin the street, that alone can wound them to the quick. ' A woman may growtired of their attentions, become capricious and change, she may be piquedby jealousy, or, what is worse, by indifference; but, while she makes noopen manifestation of these, they can be borne: the really insupportablething is, that a woman should be able to exhibit a man as a creature thathad no possible concern or interest for her--one might come or go, or stayon, utterly unregarded or uncared for. To have played this game duringthe long hours of a long day was a burden she did not fancy to encounter, whereas to fill the part for the short space of a dinner, and an hour or soin the drawing-room, she looked forward to rather as an exciting amusement. 

'He has had a day to throw away, ' said she to herself, 'and he will give itto the Greek girl. I almost hear him as he says it. How one learns to knowthese men in every nook and crevice of their natures, and how by neverrelaxing a hold on the one clue of their vanity, one can trace everyemotion of their lives. '

In her old life of Rome these small jealousies, these petty passions ofspite, defiance, and wounded sensibility, filled a considerable space ofher existence. Her position in society, dependent as she was, exposed herto small mortifications: the cold semi-contemptuous notice of women who sawshe was prettier than themselves, and the half-swaggering carelessness ofthe men, who felt that a bit of flirtation with the Titian Girl was asirresponsible a thing as might be. 

'But here, ' thought she, 'I am the niece of a man of recognised station;I am treated in his family with a more than ordinary deference andrespect--his very daughter would cede the place of honour to me, andmy will is never questioned. It is time to teach this pretentious finegentleman that our positions are not what they once were. If I were a man, I should never cease till I had fastened a quarrel on him; and being awoman, I could give my love to the man who would avenge me. Avenge me ofwhat? a mere slight, a mood of impertinent forgetfulness--nothing more--asif anything could be more to a woman's heart! A downright wrong can beforgiven, an absolute injury pardoned--one is raised to self-esteem by suchan act of forgiveness; but there is no elevation in submitting patiently toa slight. It is simply the confession that the liberty taken with you wasjustifiable--was even natural. '

These were the sum of her thoughts as she went, ever recurring to the pointhow Walpole would feel offended by her absence, and how such a mark of herindifference would pique his vanity, even to insult. 

Then she pictured to her mind how this fine gentleman would feel theboredom of that dreary day. True, it would be but a day; but these men werenot tolerant of the people who made time pass heavily with them, and theyrevenged their own ennui on all around them. How he would snub the oldman for the son's pretensions, and sneer at the young man for hisdisproportioned ambition; and last of all, how he would mystify poor Kate, till she never knew whether he cared to fatten calves and turkeys, or wassimply drawing her on to little details, which he was to dramatise one dayin an after-dinner story. 

She thought of the closed pianoforte, and her music on the top--the songshe loved best; she had actually left Mendelssohn there to be seen--a verybait to awaken his passion. She thought she actually saw the fretfulimpatience with which he threw the music aside and walked to the window tohide his anger. 

'This excursion of Mademoiselle Nina was then a sudden thought, you tellme; only planned last night? And is the country considered safe enough fora young lady to go off in this fashion. Is it secure--is it decent? I knowhe will ask, "Is it decent?" Kate will not feel--she will not see theimpertinence with which he will assure her that she herself may beprivileged to do these things; that her "Irishry" was itself a safeguard, but Dick will notice the sneer. Oh, if he would but resent it! How littlehope there is of that. These young Irishmen get so overlaid by the Englishin early life, they never resist their dominance: they accept everything ina sort of natural submission. I wonder does the rebel sentiment make themany bolder?' And then she bethought her of some of those national songs Mr. Daniel had been teaching her, and which seemed to have such an overwhelminginfluence over his passionate nature. She had even seen the tears in hiseyes, and twice he could not speak to her with emotion. What a triumph itwould have been to have made the high-bred Mr. Walpole feel in this wise. Possibly at the moment, the vulgar Fenian seemed the finer fellow. Scarcelyhad the thought struck her, than there, about fifty yards in advance, andwalking at a tremendous pace, was the very man himself. 

'Is not that Mr. Daniel, Larry?' asked she quickly. 

But Larry had already struck off on a short cut across the bog, and wasmiles away. 

Yes, it could be none other than Mr. Daniel. The coat thrown back, theloose-stepping stride, and the occasional flourish of the stick as he went, all proclaimed the man. The noise of the wheels on the hard road made himturn his head; and now, seeing who it was, he stood uncovered till shedrove up beside him. 

'Who would have thought to see you here at this hour?' said he, salutingher with deep respect. 

'No one is more surprised at it than myself, ' said she, laughing; 'but Ihave a partly-done sketch of an old castle, and I thought in this fineautumn weather I should like to throw in the colour. And besides, there arenow and then with me unsocial moments when I fancy I like to be alone. Doyou know what these are?'

'Do I know?--too well. '

'These motives then, not to think of others, led me to plan this excursion;and now will you be as candid, and say what is _your_ project?'

'I am bound for a little village called Cruhan: a very poor, unenticingspot; but I want to see the people there, and hear what they say of theserumours of new laws about the land. '

'And can _they_ tell you anything that would be likely to interest _you_?'

'Yes, their very mistakes would convey their hopes; and hopes have come tomean a great deal in Ireland. '

'Our roads are then the same. I am on my way to Croghan Castle. '

'Croghan is but a mile from my village of Cruhan, ' said he. 

'I am aware of that, and it was in your village of Cruhan, as you call it, I meant to stable my pony till I had finished my sketch; but my gentlepage, Larry, I see, has deserted me; I don't know if I shall find himagain. '

'Will you let me be your groom? I shall be at the village almost as soon asyourself, and I'll look after your pony. '

'Do you think you could manage to seat yourself on that shelf at the back?'

'It is a great temptation you offer me, if I were not ashamed to be aburden. '

'Not to me, certainly; and as for the pony, I scarcely think he'll mindit. '

'At all events, I shall walk the hills. '

'I believe there are none. If I remember aright, it is all through a levelbog. '

'You were at tea last night when a certain telegram came?'

'To be sure I was. I was there, too, when one came for you, and saw youleave the room immediately after. '

'In evident confusion?' added he, smiling. 

'Yes, I should say, in evident confusion. At least, you looked like one whohad got some very unexpected tidings. '

'So it was. There is the message. ' And he drew from his pocket a slip ofpaper, with the words, ' Walpole is coming for a day. Take care to be out ofthe way till he is gone. '

'Which means that he is no friend of yours. '

'He is neither friend nor enemy. I never saw him; but he is the privatesecretary, and, I believe, the nephew of the Viceroy, and would find itvery strange company to be domiciled with a rebel. '

'And you are a rebel?'

'At your service, Mademoiselle Kostalergi. '

'And a Fenian, and head-centre?'

'A Fenian and a head-centre. '

'And probably ought to be in prison?'

'I have been already, and as far as the sentence of English law goes, should be still there. '

'How delighted I am to know that. I mean, what a thrilling sensation it isto be driving along with a man so dangerous, that the whole country wouldbe up and in pursuit of him at a mere word. '

'That is true. I believe I should be worth a few hundred pounds to any onewho would capture me. I suspect it is the only way I could turn to valuableaccount. '

'What if I were to drive you into Moate and give you up?'

'You might. I'll not run away. '

'I should go straight to the Podestà, or whatever he is, and say, "Here isthe notorious Daniel Donogan, the rebel you are all afraid of. '"

'How came you by my name?' asked he curtly. 

'By accident. I overheard Dick telling it to his sister. It dropped fromhim unawares, and I was on the terrace and caught the words. '

'I am in your hands completely, ' said he, in the same calm voice; 'but Irepeat my words: I'll not run away. '

'That is, because you trust to my honour. '

'It is exactly so--because I trust to your honour. '

'But how if I were to have strong convictions in opposition to all you weredoing--how if I were to believe that all you intended was a gross wrong anda fearful cruelty?'

'Still you would not betray me. You would say, "This man is anenthusiast--he imagines scores of impossible things--but, at least, he isnot a self-seeker--a fool possibly, but not a knave. It would be hard tohang him. "'

'So it would. I have just thought _that_. '

'And then you might reason thus: "How will it serve the other cause to sendone poor wretch to the scaffold, where there are so many just as deservingof it?"'

'And are there many?'

'I should say close on two millions at home here, and some hundred thousandin America. '

'And if you be as strong as you say, what craven creatures you must be notto assert your own convictions. '

'So we are--I'll not deny it--craven creatures; but remember this, mademoiselle, we are not all like-minded. Some of us would be satisfiedwith small concessions, some ask for more, some demand all; and as theGovernment higgles with some, and hangs the others, they mystify us all, and end by confounding us. '

'That is to say, you are terrified. '

'Well, if you like that word better, I'll not quarrel about it. '

'I wonder how men as irresolute ever turn to rebellion. When our people setout for Crete, they went in another spirit to meet the enemy. '

'Don't be too sure of that. The boldest fellows in that exploit were theliberated felons: they fought with desperation, for they had left thehangman behind. '

'How dare you defame a great people!' cried she angrily. 

'I was with them, mademoiselle. I saw them and fought amongst them; and toprove it, I will speak modern Greek with you, if you like it. '

'Oh! do, ' said she. 'Let me hear those noble sounds again, though I shallbe sadly at a loss to answer you. I have been years and years away fromAthens. '

'I know that. I know your story from one who loved to talk of you, allunworthy as he was of such a theme. '

'And who was this?'

'Atlee--Joe Atlee, whom you saw here some months ago. '

'I remember him, ' said she thoughtfully. 

'He was here, if I mistake not, with that other friend of yours you have sostrangely escaped from to-day. '

'Mr. Walpole?'

'Yes, Mr. Walpole; to meet whom would not have involved _you_, at least, inany contrariety. '

'Is this a question, sir? Am I to suppose your curiosity asks an answerhere?'

'I am not so bold; but I own my suspicions have mastered my discretion, and, seeing you here this morning, I did think you did not care to meethim. '

'Well, sir, you were right. I am not sure that _my_ reasons for avoidinghim were exactly as strong as _yours_, but they sufficed for _me_. '

There was something so like reproof in the way these words were utteredthat Donogan had not courage to speak for some time after. At last he said, 'In one thing, your Greeks have an immense advantage over us here. In yourpopular songs you could employ your own language, and deal with your ownwrongs in the accents that became them. _We_ had to take the tongue of theconqueror, which was as little suited to our traditions as to our feelings, and travestied both. Only fancy the Greek vaunting his triumphs orbewailing his defeats in Turkish!'

'What do you know of Mr. Walpole?' asked she abruptly. 

'Very little beyond the fact that he is an agent of the Government, whobelieves that he understands the Irish people. '

'Which you are disposed to doubt?'

'I only know that I am an Irishman, and I do not understand them. An organ, however, is not less an organ that it has many "stops. "'

'I am not sure Cecil Walpole does not read you aright. He thinks that youhave a love of intrigue and plot, but without the conspirator element thatSouthern people possess; and that your native courage grows impatient atthe delays of mere knavery, and always betrays you. '

'That distinction was never _his_--that was your own. '

'So it was; but he adopted it when he heard it. '

'That is the way the rising politician is educated, ' cried Donogan. 'It isout of these petty thefts he makes all his capital, and the poor peoplenever suspect how small a creature can be their millionaire. '

'Is not that our village yonder, where I see the smoke?'

'Yes; and there on the stile sits your little groom awaiting you. I shallget down here. '

'Stay where you are, sir. It is by your blunder, not by your presence, thatyou might compromise me. ' And this time her voice caught a tone of sharpseverity that suppressed reply. 

CHAPTER XXXVI

THE EXCURSION

The little village of Cruhan-bawn, into which they now drove, was, in everydetail of wretchedness, dirt, ruin, and desolation, intensely Irish. Asmall branch of the well-known bog-stream, the 'Brusna, ' divided onepart of the village from the other, and between these two settlements soseparated there raged a most rancorous hatred and jealousy, and Cruhan-beg, as the smaller collection of hovels was called, detested Cruhan-bawn withan intensity of dislike that might have sufficed for a national antipathy, where race, language, and traditions had contributed their aids to theanimosity. 

There was, however, one real and valid reason for this inveterate jealousy. The inhabitants of Cruhan-beg--who lived, as they said themselves, 'beyondthe river'--strenuously refused to pay any rent for their hovels; while'the cis-Brusnaites, ' as they may be termed, demeaned themselves to thecondition of tenants in so far as to acknowledge the obligation of rent, though the oldest inhabitant vowed he had never seen a receipt in his life, nor had the very least conception of a gale-day. 

If, therefore, actually, there was not much to separate them on the scoreof principle, they were widely apart in theory, and the sturdy denizens ofthe smaller village looked down upon the others as the ignoble slaves of aSaxon tyranny. The village in its entirety--for the division was a purelylocal and arbitrary one--belonged to Miss Betty O'Shea, forming the extremeedge of her estate as it merged into the vast bog; and, with the habitualfate of frontier populations, it contained more people of lawless lives andreckless habits than were to be found for miles around. There was not aresource of her ingenuity she had not employed for years back to bringthese refractory subjects into the pale of a respectable tenantry. Everyprocess of the law had been essayed in turn. They had been hunted down bythe police, unroofed, and turned into the wide bog; their chattels had been'canted, ' and themselves--a last resource--cursed from the altar; but withthat strange tenacity that pertains to life where there is little to livefor, these creatures survived all modes of persecution, and came back intotheir ruined hovels to defy the law and beard the Church, and went onliving--in some strange, mysterious way of their own--an open challenge toall political economy, and a sore puzzle to the _Times_ commissioner whenhe came to report on the condition of the cottier in Ireland. 

At certain seasons of county excitement--such as an election or anunusually weighty assizes--it was not deemed perfectly safe to visit thevillage, and even the police would not have adventured on the step exceptwith a responsible force. At other periods, the most marked feature of theplace would be that of utter vacuity and desolation. A single inhabitanthere and there smoking listlessly at his door--a group of women, with theirarms concealed beneath their aprons, crouching under a ruined wall--or afew ragged children, too miserable and dispirited even for play, would beall that would be seen. 

At a spot where the stream was fordable for a horse, the page Larry hadalready stationed himself, and now walked into the river, which rose overhis knees, to show the road to his mistress. 

'The bailiffs is on them to-day, ' said he, with a gleeful look in hiseye; for any excitement, no matter at what cost to others, was intenselypleasurable to him. 

'What is he saying?' asked Nina. 

'They are executing some process of law against these people, ' mutteredDonogan. 'It's an old story in Ireland; but I had as soon you had beenspared the sight. '

'Is it quite safe for yourself?' whispered she. 'Is there not some dangerin being seen here?'

'Oh, if I could but think that you cared--I mean ever so slightly, ' criedhe, with fervour, 'I'd call this moment of my danger the proudest of mylife!'

Though declarations of this sort--more or less sincere as chance might makethem--were things Nina was well used to, she could not help marking theimpassioned manner of him who now spoke, and bent her eyes steadily on him. 

'It is true, ' said he, as if answering the interrogation in her gaze. 'Apoor outcast as I am--a rebel--a felon--anything you like to call me--theslightest show of your interest in me gives my life a value, and my hope apurpose I never knew till now. '

'Such interest would be but ill-bestowed if it only served to heighten yourdanger. Are you known here?'

'He who has stood in the dock, as I have, is sure to be known by some one. Not that the people would betray me. There is poverty and misery enough inthat wretched village, and yet there's not one so hungry or so ragged thathe would hand me over to the law to make himself rich for life. '

'Then what do you mean to do?' asked she hurriedly. 

'Walk boldly through the village at the head of your pony, as I amnow--your guide to Croghan Castle. '

'But we were to have stabled the beast here. I intended to have gone onfoot to Croghan. '

'Which you cannot now. Do you know what English law is, lady?' cried hefiercely. 'This pony and this carriage, if they had shelter here, areconfiscated to the landlord for his rent. It's little use to say _you_ owenothing to this owner of the soil; it's enough that they are found amongstthe chattels of his debtors. '

'I cannot believe this is law. '

'You can prove it--at the loss of your pony; and it is mercy and generousdealing when compared with half the enactments our rulers have devised forus. Follow me. I see the police have not yet come down. I will go on infront and ask the way to Croghan. '

There was that sort of peril in the adventure now that stimulated Nina andexcited her; and as they stoutly wended their way through the crowd, shewas far from insensible to the looks of admiration that were bent on herfrom every side. 

'What are they saying?' asked she; 'I do not know their language. '

'It is Irish, ' said he; 'they are talking of your beauty. '

'I should so like to follow their words, ' said she, with the smile of oneto whom such homage had ever its charm. 

'That wild-looking fellow, that seemed to utter an imprecation, has justpronounced a fervent blessing; what he has said was, "May every glance ofyour eye be a candle to light you to glory. "'

A half-insolent laugh at this conceit was all Nina's acknowledgment of it. Short greetings and good wishes were now rapidly exchanged between Donoganand the people, as the little party made their way through the crowd--themen standing bareheaded, and the women uttering words of admiration, someeven crossing themselves piously, at sight of such loveliness, as, to them, recalled the ideal of all beauty. 

'The police are to be here at one o'clock, ' said Donogan, translating aphrase of one of the bystanders. 

'And is there anything for them to seize on?' asked she. 

'No; but they can level the cabins, ' cried he bitterly. 'We have no moreright to shelter than to food. '

Moody and sad, he walked along at the pony's head, and did not speakanother word till they had left the village far behind them. 

Larry, as usual, had found something to interest him, and dropped behind inthe village, and they were alone. 

A passing countryman, to whom Donogan addressed a few words in Irish, toldthem that a short distance from Croghan they could stable the pony at asmall 'shebeen. '

On reaching this, Nina, who seemed to have accepted Donogan's companionshipwithout further question, directed him to unpack the carriage and takeout her easel and her drawing materials. 'You'll have to carrythese--fortunately not very far, though, ' said she, smiling, 'and thenyou'll have to come back here and fetch this basket. '

'It is a very proud slavery--command me how you will, ' muttered he, notwithout emotion. 

'That, ' continued she, pointing to the basket, 'contains my breakfast, andluncheon or dinner, and I invite you to be my guest. '

'And I accept with rapture. Oh!' cried he passionately, 'what whispered tomy heart this morning that this would be the happiest day of my life!'

'If so, Fate has scarcely been generous to you. ' And her lip curled halfsuperciliously as she spoke. 

'I'd not say that. I have lived amidst great hopes, many of them dashed, it is true, by disappointment; but who that has been cheered by gloriousdaydreams has not tasted moments at least of exquisite bliss?'

'I don't know that I have much sympathy with political ambitions, ' said shepettishly. 

'Have you tasted--have you tried them? Do you know what it is to feel theheart of a nation throb and beat?--to know that all that love can do topurify and elevate, can be exercised for the countless thousands of one'sown race and lineage, and to think that long after men have forgotten yourname, some heritage of freedom will survive to say that there once livedone who loved his country. '

'This is very pretty enthusiasm. '

'Oh, how is it that you, who can stimulate one's heart to such confessions, know nothing of the sentiment?'

'I have my ambitions, ' said she coldly, almost sternly. 

'Let me hear some of them. '

'They are not like yours, though they are perhaps just as impossible. ' Shespoke in a broken, unconnected manner, like one who was talking aloud thethoughts that came laggingly; then with a sudden earnestness she said, 'I'll tell you one of them. It's to catch the broad bold light that hasjust beat on the old castle there, and brought out all its rich tints ofgreys and yellows in such a glorious wealth of colour. Place my easel here, under the trees; spread that rug for yourself to lie on. No--you won't haveit? Well, fold it neatly, and place it there for my feet: very nicelydone. And now, Signer Ribello, you may unpack that basket, and arrange ourbreakfast, and when you have done all these, throw yourself down on thegrass, and either tell me a pretty story, or recite some nice verses forme, or be otherwise amusing and agreeable. '

'Shall I do what will best please myself? If so, it will be to lie here andlook at you. '

'Be it so, ' said she, with a sigh. 'I have always thought, in lookingat them, how saints are bored by being worshipped--it adds fearfully tomartyrdom, but happily I am used to it. "Oh, the vanity of that girl!" Yes, sir, say it out: tell her frankly that if she has no friend to caution heragainst this besetting wile, that you will be that friend. Tell herthat whatever she has of attraction is spoiled and marred by thisself-consciousness, and that just as you are a rebel without knowing it, soshould she be charming and never suspect it. Is not that coming nicely, 'said she, pointing to the drawing; 'see how that tender light is carrieddown from those grey walls to the banks beneath, and dies away in thatlittle pool, where the faintest breath of air is rustling. Don't look atme, sir, look at my drawing. '

'True, there is no tender light there, ' muttered he, gazing at her eyes, where the enormous size of the pupils had given a character of steadfastbrilliancy, quite independent of shape, or size, or colour. 

'You know very little about it, ' said she saucily; then, bending over thedrawing, she said, 'That middle distance wants a bit of colour: you shallaid me here. '

'How am I to aid you?' asked he, in sheer simplicity. 

'I mean that you should be that bit of colour. There, take my scarletcloak, and perch yourself yonder on that low rock. A few minutes will do. Was there ever immortality so cheaply purchased! Your biographer shall tellthat you were the figure in that famous sketch--what will be called in thecant of art, one of Nina Kostalergi's earliest and happiest efforts. There, now, dear Mr. Donogan, do as you are bid. '

'Do you know the Greek ballad, where a youth remembers that the word "dear"has been coupled with his name--a passing courtesy, if even so much, butenough to light up a whole chamber in his heart?'

'I know nothing of Greek ballads. How does it go?'

'It is a simple melody, in a low key. ' And he sang, in a deep but tremulousvoice, to a very plaintive air--

 'I took her hand within my own, I drew her gently nearer, And whispered almost on her cheek, "Oh, would that I were dearer. " Dearer! No, that's not my prayer: A stranger, e'en the merest, Might chance to have some value there; But I would be the dearest. '

[Illustration: 'True, there is no tender light there, ' muttered he, gazingat her eyes]

'What had he done to merit such a hope?' said she haughtily. 

'Loved her--only loved her!'

'What value you men must attach to this gift of your affection, when it cannourish such thoughts as these! Your very wilfulness is to win us--is notthat your theory? I expect from the man who offers me his heart that hemeans to share with me his own power and his own ambition--to make me thepartner of a station that is to give me some pre-eminence I had not knownbefore, nor could gain unaided. '

'And you would call that marrying for love?'

'Why not? Who has such a claim upon my life as he who makes the life worthliving for? Did you hear that shout?'

'I heard it, ' said he, standing still to listen. 

'It came from the village. What can it mean?'

'It's the old war-cry of the houseless, ' said he mournfully. 'It's a notewe are well used to here. I must go down to learn. I'll be back presently. '

'You are not going into danger?' said she; and her cheek grew paler as shespoke. 

'And if I were, who is to care for it?'

'Have you no mother, sister, sweetheart?'

'No, not one of the three. Good-bye. '

'But if I were to say--stay?'

'I should still go. To have your love, I'd sacrifice even my honour. Without it--' he threw up his arms despairingly and rushed away. 

'These are the men whose tempers compromise us, ' said she thoughtfully. 'Wecome to accept their violence as a reason, and take mere impetuosity for anargument. I am glad that he did not shake my resolution. There, that wasanother shout, but it seemed in joy. There was a ring of gladness in it. Now for my sketch. ' And she reseated herself before her easel. 'He shallsee when he comes back how diligently I have worked, and how small a shareanxiety has had in my thoughts. The one thing men are not proof against isour independence of them. ' And thus talking in broken sentences to herself, she went on rapidly with her drawing, occasionally stopping to gaze on it, and humming some old Italian ballad to herself. 'His Greek air was pretty. Not that it was Greek; these fragments of melody were left behind themby the Venetians, who, in all lust of power, made songs about contentedpoverty and humble joys. I feel intensely hungry, and if my dangerous guestdoes not return soon, I shall have to breakfast alone--another way ofshowing him how little his fate has interested me. My foreground here doeswant that bit of colour. Why does he not come back?' As she rose to lookat her drawing, the sound of somebody running attracted her attention, andturning, she saw it was her foot-page Larry coming at full speed. 

'What is it, Larry? What has happened?' asked she. 

'You are to go--as fast as you can, ' said he; which being for him a longerspeech than usual, seemed to have exhausted him. 

'Go where? and why?'

'Yes, ' said he, with a stolid look, 'you are. '

'I am to do what? Speak out, boy! Who sent you here?'

'Yes, ' said he again. 

'Are they in trouble yonder? Is there fighting at the village?'

'No. ' And he shook his head, as though he said so regretfully. 

'Will you tell me what you mean, boy?'

'The pony is ready?' said he, as he stooped down to pack away the things inthe basket. 

'Is that gentleman coming back here--that gentleman whom you saw with me?'

'He is gone; he got away. ' And here he laughed in a malicious way, that wasmore puzzling even than his words. 

'And am I to go back home at once?'

'Yes, ' replied he resolutely. 

'Do you know why--for what reason?'

'I do. '

'Come, like a good boy, tell me, and you shall have this. ' And she drew apiece of silver from her purse, and held it temptingly before him. 'Whyshould I go back, now?'

'Because, ' muttered he, 'because--' and it was plain, from the glance inhis eyes, that the bribe had engaged all his faculties. 

'So, then, you will not tell me?' said she, replacing the money in herpurse. 

'Yes, ' said he, in a despondent tone. 

'You can have it still, Larry, if you will but say who sent you here. '

'_He_ sent me, ' was the answer. 

'Who was he? Do you mean the gentleman who came here with me?' A nodassented to this. 'And what did he tell you to say to me?'

'Yes, ' said he, with a puzzled look, as though once more the confusion ofhis thoughts was mastering him. 

'So, then, it is that you will not tell me?' said she angrily. He made noanswer, but went on packing the plates in the basket. 'Leave those there, and go and fetch me some water from the spring yonder. ' And she gave him ajug as she spoke, and now she reseated herself on the grass. He obeyed atonce, and returned speedily with water. 

'Come now, Larry, ' said she kindly to him. 'I'm sure you mean to be a goodboy. You shall breakfast with me. Get me a cup, and I'll give you somemilk; here is bread and cold meat. '

'Yes, ' muttered Larry, whose mouth was already too much engaged for speech. 

'You will tell me by-and-by what they were doing at the village, and whatthat shouting meant--won't you?'

'Yes, ' said he, with a nod. Then suddenly bending his head to listen, hemotioned with his hand to keep silence, and after a long breath said, 'They're coming. '

'Who are coming?' asked she eagerly; but at the same instant a man emergedfrom the copse below the hill, followed by several others, whom she saw bytheir dress and equipment to belong to the constabulary. 

Approaching with his hat in his hand, and with that air of servile civilitywhich marked him, old Gill addressed her. 'If it's not displazin' to ye, miss, we want to ax you a few questions, ' said he. 

'You have no right, sir, to make any such request, ' said she, with ahaughty air. 

'There was a man with you, my lady, ' he went on, 'as you drove throughCruhan, and we want to know where he is now. '

'That concerns you, sir, and not me. '

'Maybe it does, my lady, ' said he, with a grin; 'but I suppose you know whoyou were travelling with?'

'You evidently don't remember, sir, whom you are talking to. '

'The law is the law, miss, and there's none of us above it, ' said he, halfdefiantly; 'and when there's some hundred pounds on a man's head, there'sfew of us such fools as to let him slip through our fingers. '

'I don't understand you, sir, nor do I care to do so. '

'The sergeant there has a warrant against him, ' said he, in a whisperhe intended to be confidential; 'and it's not to do anything that yourladyship would think rude that I came up myself. There's how it is now, 'muttered he, still lower. 'They want to search the luggage, and examinethe baskets there, and maybe, if you don't object, they'd look through thecarriage. '

'And if I should object to this insult?' broke she in. 

'Faix, I believe, ' said he, laughing, 'they'd do it all the same. Eighthundred--I think it's eight--isn't to be made any day of the year!'

'My uncle is a justice of the peace, Mr. Gill; and you know if he willsuffer such an outrage to go unpunished. '

'There's the more reason that a justice shouldn't harbour a Fenian, miss, 'said he boldly; 'as he'll know when he sees the search-warrant. '

'Get ready the carriage, Larry, ' said she, turning contemptuously away, 'and follow me towards the village. '

'The sergeant, miss, would like to say a word or two, ' said Gill, in hisaccustomed voice of servility. 

'I will not speak with him, ' said she proudly, and swept past him. 

The constables stood to one side, and saluted in military fashion as shepassed down the hill. There was that in her queenlike gesture and carriagethat so impressed them, the men stood as though on parade. 

Slowly and thoughtfully as she sauntered along, her thoughts turned toDonogan. Had he escaped? was the idea that never left her. The presence ofthese men here seemed to favour that impression; but there might be otherson his track, and if so, how in that wild bleak space was he to concealhimself? A single man moving miles away on the bog could be seen. There wasno covert, no shelter anywhere! What an interest did his fate now suggest, and yet a moment back she believed herself indifferent to him. 'Was heaware of his danger, ' thought she, ' when he lay there talking carelessly tome? was that recklessness the bravery of a bold man who despised peril?'And if so, what stuff these souls were made of! These were not of theKearney stamp, that needed to be stimulated and goaded to any effort inlife; nor like Atlee, the fellow who relied on trick and knavery forsuccess; still less such as Walpole, self-worshippers and triflers. 'Yes, 'said she aloud, ' a woman might feel that with such a man at her side thebattle of life need not affright her. He might venture too far--he mightaspire to much that was beyond his reach, and strive for the impossible;but that grand bold spirit would sustain him, and carry him through all thesmaller storms of life: and such a man might be a hero, even to her who sawhim daily. These are the dreamers, as we call them, ' said she. 'How strangeit would be if _they_ should prove the realists, and that it was _we_should be the mere shadows! If these be the men who move empires and makehistory, how doubly ignoble are we in our contempt of them. ' And then shebethought her what a different faculty was that great faith that these menhad in themselves from common vanity; and in this way she was led again tocompare Donogan and Walpole. 

She reached the village before her little carriage had overtaken her, andsaw that the people stood about in groups and knots. A depressing silenceprevailed over them, and they rarely spoke above a whisper. The samerespectful greeting, however, which welcomed her before, met her again; andas they lifted their hats, she saw, or thought she saw, that they looked onher with a more tender interest. Several policemen moved about through thecrowd, who, though they saluted her respectfully, could not refrain fromscrutinising her appearance and watching her as she went. With that airof haughty self-possession which well became her--for it was noaffectation--she swept proudly along, resolutely determined not to utter aword, or even risk a question as to the way. 

Twice she turned to see if her pony were coming, and then resumed her road. From the excited air and rapid gestures of the police, as they hurriedfrom place to place, she could guess that up to this Donogan had not beencaptured. Still, it seemed hopeless that concealment in such a place couldbe accomplished. 

As she gained the little stream that divided the village, she stood for amoment uncertain, when a countrywoman, as it were divining her difficulty, said, 'If you'll cross over the bridge, my lady, the path will bring youout on the highroad. '

As Nina turned to thank her, the woman looked up from her task of washingin the river, and made a gesture with her hand towards the bog. Slight asthe action was, it appealed to that Southern intelligence that reads a signeven faster than a word. Nina saw that the woman meant to say Donogan hadescaped, and once more she said, 'Thank you--from my heart I thank you!'

Just as she emerged upon the highroad, her pony and carriage came up. Asergeant of police was, however, in waiting beside it, who, saluting herrespectfully, said, 'There was no disrespect meant to you, miss, by oursearch of the carriage--our duty obliged us to do it. We have a warrant toapprehend the man that was seen with you this morning, and it's only thatwe know who you are, and where you come from, prevents us from asking youto come before our chief. '

He presented his arm to assist her to her place as he spoke; but shedeclined the help, and, without even noticing him in any way, arrangedher rugs and wraps around her, took the reins, and motioning Larry to hisplace, drove on. 

'Is my drawing safe?--have all my brushes and pencils been put in?' askedshe, after a while. But already Larry had taken his leave, and she couldsee him as he flitted across the bog to catch her by some short cut. 

That strange contradiction by which a woman can journey alone and in safetythrough the midst of a country only short of open insurrection, filled hermind as she went, and thinking of it in every shape and fashion occupiedher for miles of the way. The desolation, far as the eye could reach, wascomplete--there was not a habitation, not a human thing to be seen. Thedark-brown desert faded away in the distance into low-lying clouds, theonly break to the dull uniformity being some stray 'clamp, ' as it iscalled, of turf, left by the owners from some accident of season or badweather, and which loomed out now against the sky like a vast fortress. 

This long, long day--for so without any weariness she felt it--was now inthe afternoon, and already long shadows of these turf-mounds stretchedtheir giant limbs across the waste. Nina, who had eaten nothing since earlymorning, felt faint and hungry. She halted her pony, and taking out somebread and a bottle of milk, proceeded to make a frugal luncheon. Thecomplete loneliness, the perfect silence, in which even the rattling ofthe harness as the pony shook himself made itself felt, gave somethingof solemnity to the moment, as the young girl sat there and gazed halfterrified around her. 

As she looked, she thought she saw something pass from one turf-clamp tothe other, and, watching closely, she could distinctly detect a figurecrouching near the ground, and, after some minutes, emerging into the openspace, again to be hidden by some vast turf-mound. There, now--there couldnot be a doubt--it was a man, and he was waving his handkerchief as asignal. It was Donogan himself--she could recognise him well. Clearing thelong drains at a bound, and with a speed that vouched for perfect training, he came rapidly forward, and, leaping the wide trench, alighted at last onthe road beside her. 

'I have watched you for an hour, and but for this lucky halt, I should nothave overtaken you after all, ' cried he, as he wiped his brow and stoodpanting beside her. 

'Do you know that they are in pursuit of you?' cried she hastily. 

'I know it all. I learned it before I reached the village, and intime--only in time--to make a circuit and reach the bog. Once there, I defythe best of them. '

'They have what they call a warrant to search for you. '

'I know that too, ' cried he. 'No, no!' said he passionately, as she offeredhim a drink, 'let me have it from the cup you have drank from. It may bethe last favour I shall ever ask you--don't refuse me this!'

She touched the glass slightly with her lips, and handed it to him with asmile. 

'What peril would I not brave for this!' cried he, with a wild ecstasy. 

'Can you not venture to return with me?' said she, in some confusion, forthe bold gleam of his gaze now half abashed her. 

'No. That would be to compromise others as well as myself. I must gainDublin how I can. There I shall be safe against all pursuit. I have comeback for nothing but disappointment, ' added he sorrowfully. 'This countryis not ready to rise--they are too many-minded for a common effort. The menlike Wolfe Tone are not to be found amongst us now, and to win freedom youmust dare the felony. '

'Is it not dangerous to delay so long here?' asked she, looking around herwith anxiety. 

'So it is--and I will go. Will you keep this for me?' said he, placing athick and much-worn pocket-book in her hands. 'There are papers there wouldrisk far better heads than mine; and if I should be taken, these must notbe discovered. It may be, Nina--oh, forgive me if I say your name! but itis such joy to me to utter it once--it may be that you should chance tohear some word whose warning might save me. If so, and if you would deignto write to me, you'll find three, if not four, addresses, under any ofwhich you could safely write to me. '

'I shall not forget. Good fortune be with you. Adieu!'

She held out her hand; but he bent over it, and kissed it rapturously; andwhen he raised his head, his eyes were streaming, and his cheeks deadlypale. 'Adieu!' said she again. 

He tried to speak, but no sound came from his lips; and when, after she haddriven some distance away, she turned to look after him, he was standing onthe same spot in the road, his hat at his foot, where it had fallen when hestooped to kiss her hand. 

CHAPTER XXXVII

THE RETURN

Kate Kearney was in the act of sending out scouts and messengers to lookout for Nina, whose long absence had begun to alarm her, when she heardthat she had returned and was in her room. 

'What a fright you have given me, darling!' said Kate, as she threw herarms about her, and kissed her affectionately. 'Do you know how late youare?'

'No; I only know how tired I am. '

'What a long day of fatigue you must have gone through. Tell me of it all. '

'Tell me rather of yours. You have had the great Mr. Walpole here: is itnot so?'

'Yes; he is still here--he has graciously given us another day, and willnot leave till to-morrow night. '

'By what good fortune have you been so favoured as this?'

'Ostensibly to finish a long conversation or conference with papa, butreally and truthfully, I suspect, to meet Mademoiselle Kostalergi, whoseabsence has piqued him. '

'Yes, piqued is the word. It is the extreme of the pain he is capable offeeling. What has he said of it?'

'Nothing beyond the polite regrets that courtesy could express, and thenadverted to something else. '

'With an abruptness that betrayed preparation?'

'Perhaps so. '

'Not perhaps, but certainly so. Vanity such as his has no variety. Itrepeats its moods over and over; but why do we talk of him? I have otherthings to tell you of. You know that man who came here with Dick. That Mr. ----'

'I know--I know, ' cried the other hurriedly, 'what of him?'

'He joined me this morning, on my way through the bog, and drove with me toCruhan. '

'Indeed!' muttered Kate thoughtfully. 

'A strange, wayward, impulsive sort of creature--unlike anyone--interesting from his strong convictions--'

'Did he convert you to any of his opinions, Nina?'

'You mean, make a rebel of me. No; for the simple reason that I had none tosurrender. I do not know what is wrong here, nor what people would say wasright. '

'You are aware, then, who he is?'

'Of course I am. I was on the terrace that night when your brother told youhe was Donogan--the famous Fenian Donogan. The secret was not intended forme, but I kept it all the same, and I took an interest in the man from thetime I heard it. '

'You told him, then, that you knew who he was. '

'To be sure I did, and we are fast friends already; but let me go onwith my narrative. Some excitement, some show of disturbance at Cruhan, persuaded him that what he called--I don't know why--the Crowbar Brigadewas at work and that the people were about to be turned adrift on the worldby the landlord, and hearing a wild shout from the village, he insisted ongoing back to learn what it might mean. He had not left me long, when yourlate steward, Gill, came up with several policemen, to search for theconvict Donogan. They had a warrant to apprehend him, and some informationas to where he had been housed and sheltered. '

'Here--with us?'

'Here--with you! Gill knew it all. This, then, was the reason for thatexcitement we had seen in the village--the people had heard the police werecoming, but for what they knew not; of course the only thought was fortheir own trouble. '

'Has he escaped? Is he safe?'

'Safe so far, that I last saw him on the wide bog, some eight miles awayfrom any human habitation; but where he is to turn to, or who is to shelterhim, I cannot say. '

'He told you there was a price upon his head?'

'Yes, a few hundred pounds, I forget how much, but he asked me this morningif I did not feel tempted to give him up and earn the reward. '

Kate leaned her head upon her hand, and seemed lost in thought. 

'They will scarcely dare to come and search for him here, ' said she; and, after a pause, added, 'And yet I suspect that the chief constable, Mr. Curtis, owes, or thinks he owes, us a grudge: he might not be sorry to passthis slight upon papa. ' And she pondered for some time over the thought. 

'Do you think he can escape?' asked Nina eagerly. 

'Who, Donogan?'

'Of course--Donogan. '

'Yes, I suspect he will: these men have popular feeling with them, evenamongst many who do not share their opinions. Have you lived long enoughamongst us, Nina, to know that we all hate the law? In some shape or otherit represents to the Irish mind a tyranny. '

'You are Greeks without their acuteness, ' said Nina. 

'I'll not say that, ' said Kate hastily. 'It is true I know nothing of yourpeople, but I think I could aver that for a shrewd calculation of the costof a venture, for knowing when caution and when daring will best succeed, the Irish peasant has scarcely a superior anywhere. '

'I have heard much of his caution this very morning, ' said Ninasuperciliously. 

'You might have heard far more of his recklessness, if Donogan cared totell of it, ' said Kate, with irritation. 'It is not English squadrons andbatteries he is called alone to face, he has to meet English gold, thattempts poverty, and English corruption, that begets treachery and betrayal. The one stronghold of the Saxon here is the informer, and mind, I, who tellyou this, am no rebel. I would rather live under English law, if Englishlaw would not ignore Irish feeling, than I'd accept that Heaven knows whatof a government Fenianism could give us. '

'I care nothing for all this, I don't well know if I can follow it; but Ido know that I'd like this man to escape. He gave me this pocket-book, andtold me to keep it safely. It contains some secrets that would compromisepeople that none suspect, and it has, besides, some three or four addressesto which I could write with safety if I saw cause to warn him of any comingdanger. '

'And you mean to do this?'

'Of course I do; I feel an interest in this man. I like him. I like hisadventurous spirit. I like that ambitious daring to do or to be somethingbeyond the herd around him. I like that readiness he shows to stake hislife on an issue. His enthusiasm inflames his whole nature. He vulgarisessuch fine gentlemen as Mr. Walpole, and such poor pretenders as Joe Atlee, and, indeed, your brother, Kate. '

'I will suffer no detraction of Dick Kearney, ' said Kate resolutely. 

'Give me a cup of tea, then, and I shall be more mannerly, for I am quiteexhausted, and I am afraid my temper is not proof against starvation. '

'But you will come down to the drawing-room, they are all so eager to seeyou, ' said Kate caressingly. 

'No; I'll have my tea and go to bed, and I'll dream that Mr. Donogan hasbeen made King of Ireland, and made an offer to share the throne with me. '

'Your Majesty's tea shall be served at once, ' said Kate, as she curtsieddeeply and withdrew. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII

O'SHEA'S BARN

There were many more pretentious houses than O'Shea's Barn. It wouldhave been easy enough to discover larger rooms and finer furniture, morenumerous servants and more of display in all the details of life; but foran air of quiet comfort, for the certainty of meeting with every materialenjoyment that people of moderate fortune aspire to, it stood unrivalled. 

The rooms were airy and cheerful, with flowers in summer, as they were wellheated and well lighted in winter. The most massive-looking but luxuriousold arm-chairs, that modern taste would have repudiated for ugliness, abounded everywhere; and the four cumbrous but comfortable seats that stoodaround the circular dinner-table--and it was a matter of principle withMiss Betty that the company should never be more numerous--only neededspeech to have told of traditions of conviviality for very nigh twocenturies back. 

As for a dinner at the Barn, the whole countyside confessed that they neverknew how it was that Miss Betty's salmon was 'curdier' and her mountainmutton more tender, and her woodcocks racier and of higher flavour, thanany one else's. Her brown sherry you might have equalled--she liked thecolour and the heavy taste--but I defy you to match that marvellous portwhich came in with the cheese, and as little, in these days of lightBordeaux, that stout-hearted Sneyd's claret, in its ancient decanter, whosedelicately fine neck seemed fashioned to retain the bouquet. 

The most exquisite compliment that a courtier ever uttered could not havegiven Miss Betty the same pleasure as to hear one of her guests request asecond slice off 'the haunch. ' This was, indeed, a flattery that appealedto her finest sensibilities, and as she herself carved, she knew how toreward that appreciative man with fat. 

Never was the virtue of hospitality more self-rewarding than in her case;and the discriminating individual who ate with gusto, and who neverassociated the wrong condiment with his food, found favour in her eyes, andwas sure of re-invitation. 

Fortune had rewarded her with one man of correct taste and exquisite palateas a diner-out. This was the parish priest, the Rev. Luke Delany, who hadbeen educated abroad, and whose natural gifts had been improved by Frenchand Italian experiences. He was a small little meek man, with closely-cutblack hair and eyes of the darkest, scrupulously neat in dress, and, by hisruffles and buckled shoes at dinner, affecting something of the abbé in hisappearance. To such as associated the Catholic priest with coarse manners, vulgar expressions, or violent sentiments, Father Luke, with his low voice, his well-chosen words, and his universal moderation, was a standing rebuke;and many an English tourist who met him came away with the impression ofthe gross calumny that associated this man's order with underbred habitsand disloyal ambitions. He spoke little, but he was an admirable listener, and there was a sweet encouragement in the bland nod of his head, and aracy appreciation in the bright twinkle of his humorous eye, that theprosiest talker found irresistible. 

There were times, indeed--stirring intervals of political excitement--whenMiss Betty would have liked more hardihood and daring in her ghostlycounsellor; but Heaven help the man who would have ventured on the openavowal of such opinion or uttered a word in disparagement of Father Luke. 

It was in that snug dinner-room I have glanced at that a party of four satover their wine. They had dined admirably, a bright wood fire blazed on thehearth, and the scene was the emblem of comfort and quiet conviviality. Opposite Miss O'Shea sat Father Delany, and on either side of her hernephew Gorman and Mr. Ralph Miller, in whose honour the present dinner wasgiven. 

The Catholic bishop of the diocese had vouchsafed a guarded and cautiousapproval of Mr. Miller's views, and secretly instructed Father Delany tolearn as much more as he conveniently could of the learned gentleman'sintentions before committing himself to a pledge of hearty support. 

'I will give him a good dinner, ' said Miss O'Shea, 'and some of the '45claret, and if you cannot get his sentiments out of him after that, I washmy hands of him. '

Father Delany accepted his share of the task, and assuredly Miss Betty didnot fail on her part. 

The conversation had turned principally on the coming election, and Mr. Miller gave a flourishing account of his success as a canvasser, and evenwent the length of doubting if any opposition would be offered to him. 

'Ain't you and young Kearney going on the same ticket?' asked Gorman, whowas too new to Ireland to understand the nice distinctions of party. 

'Pardon me, ' said Miller, 'we differ essentially. _We_ want a government inIreland--the Nationalists want none. _We_ desire order by means of timelyconcessions and judicious boons to the people. They want disorder--thedisplay of gross injustice--content to wait for a scramble, and see whatcan come of it. '

'Mr. Miller's friends, besides, ' interposed Father Luke, 'would defendthe Church and protect the Holy See'--and this was said with ahalf-interrogation. 

Miller coughed twice, and said, 'Unquestionably. We have shown our handalready--look what we have done with the Established Church. '

'You need not be proud of it, ' cried Miss Betty. 'If you wanted to get ridof the crows, why didn't you pull down the rookery?'

'At least they don't caw so loud as they used, ' said the priest, smiling;and Miller exchanged delighted glances with him for his opinion. 

'I want to be rid of them, root and branch, ' said Miss Betty. 

'If you will vouchsafe us, ma'am, a little patience. Rome was not built ina day. The next victory of our Church must be won by the downfall of theEnglish establishment. Ain't I right, Father Luke?'

'I am not quite clear about that, ' said the priest cautiously. 'Equality isnot the safe road to supremacy. '

'What was that row over towards Croghan Castle this morning?' asked Gorman, who was getting wearied with a discussion he could not follow. 'I saw theconstabulary going in force there this afternoon. '

'They were in pursuit of the celebrated Dan Donogan, ' said Father Luke. 'They say he was seen at Moate. '

'They say more than that, ' said Miss Betty. 'They say that he is stoppingat Kilgobbin Castle!'

'I suppose to conduct young Kearney's election, ' said Miller, laughing. 

'And why should they hunt him down?' asked Gorman. 'What has he done?'

'He's a Fenian--a head-centre--a man who wants to revolutionise Ireland, 'replied Miller. 

'And destroy the Church, ' chimed in the priest. 

'Humph!' muttered Gorman, who seemed to imply, Is this all you can lay tohis charge? 'Has he escaped? asked he suddenly. 

'Up to this he has, ' said Miller. 'I was talking to the constabulary chiefthis afternoon, and he told me that the fellow is sure to be apprehended. He has taken to the open bog, and there are eighteen in full cry after him. There is a search-warrant, too, arrived, and they mean to look him up atKilgobbin Castle. '

'To search Kilgobbin Castle, do you mean?' asked Gorman. 

'Just so. It will be, as I perceive you think it, a great offence to Mr. Kearney, and it is not impossible that his temper may provoke him to resistit. '

'The mere rumour may materially assist his son's election, ' said the priestslyly. 

'Only with the party who have no votes, Father Luke, ' rejoined Miller. 'That precarious popularity of the mob is about the most dangerous enemy aman can have in Ireland. '

'You are right, sir, ' said the priest blandly. 'The real favour of thispeople is only bestowed on him who has gained the confidence of theclergy. '

'If that be true, ' cried Gorman, 'upon my oath I think you are worse offhere than in Austria. There, at least, we are beginning to think withoutthe permission of the Church. '

'Let us have none of your atheism here, young man, ' broke in his auntangrily. 'Such sentiments have never been heard in this room before. '

'If I apprehend Lieutenant Gorman aright, ' interposed Father Luke, 'he onlyrefers to the late movement of the Austrian Empire with reference to theConcordat, on which, amongst religious men, there are two opinions. '

'No, no, you mistake me altogether, ' rejoined Gorman. 'What I mean was, that a man can read, and talk, and think in Austria without the leave ofthe priest; that he can marry, and if he like, he can die without hisassistance. '

'Gorman, you are a beast, ' said the old lady, 'and if you lived here, youwould be a Fenian. '

'You're wrong too, aunt, ' replied he. 'I'd crush those fellows to-morrow ifI was in power here. '

'Mayhap the game is not so easy as you deem it, ' interposed Miller. 

'Certainly it is not so easy when played as you do it here. You deal withyour law-breakers only by the rule of legality: that is to say, you respectall the regulations of the game towards the men who play false. You haveyour cumbrous details, and your lawyers, and judges, and juries, and youcannot even proclaim a county in a state of siege without a bill in yourblessed Parliament, and a basketful of balderdash about the liberty of thesubject. Is it any wonder rebellion is a regular trade with you, and thatmen who don't like work, or business habits, take to it as a livelihood?'

'But have you never heard Curran's saying, young gentleman? "You cannotbring an indictment against a nation, '" said Miller. 

'I'd trouble myself little with indictments, ' replied Gorman. 'I'd breakdown the confederacy by spies; I'd seize the fellows I knew to be guilty, and hang them. '

'Without evidence, without trial?'

'Very little of a trial, when I had once satisfied myself of the guilt. '

'Are you so certain that no innocent men might be brought to the scaffold?'asked the priest mildly. 

'No, I am not. I take it, as the world goes, very few of us go through lifewithout some injustice or another. I'd do my best not to hang the fellowswho didn't deserve it, but I own I'd be much more concerned about themillions who wanted to live peaceably than the few hundred rapscallionsthat were bent on troubling them. '

'I must say, sir, ' said the priest, 'I am much more gratified to know thatyou are a Lieutenant of Lancers in Austria than a British Minister inDowning Street. '

'I have little doubt myself, ' said the other, laughing, 'that I am more inmy place; but of this I am sure, that if we were as mealy-mouthed with ourCroats and Slovacks as you are with your Fenians, Austria would soon go topieces. '

'There is, however, a higher price on that man Donogan's head than Austriaever offered for a traitor, ' said Miller. 

'I know how you esteem money here, ' said Gorman, laughing. 'When all elsefails you, you fall back upon it. '

'Why did I know nothing of these sentiments, young man, before I asked youunder my roof?' said Miss Betty, in anger. 

'You need never to have known them now, aunt, if these gentlemen had notprovoked them, nor indeed are they solely mine. I am only telling you whatyou would hear from any intelligent foreigner, even though he chanced to bea liberal in his own country. '

'Ah, yes, ' sighed the priest: 'what the young gentleman says is too true. The Continent is alarmingly infected with such opinions as these. '

'Have you talked on politics with young Kearney?' asked Miller. 

'He has had no opportunity, ' interposed Miss O'Shea. 'My nephew will bethree weeks here on Thursday next, and neither Mathew nor his son havecalled on him. '

'Scarcely neighbourlike that, I must say, ' cried Miller. 

'I suspect the fault lies on my side, ' said Gorman boldly. 'When I waslittle more than a boy, I was never out of that house. The old man treatedme like a son. All the more, perhaps, as his own son was seldom at home, and the little girl Kitty certainly regarded me as a brother; and though wehad our fights and squabbles, we cried very bitterly at parting, and eachof us vowed we should never like any one so much again. And now, after all, here am I three weeks, within two hours' ride of them, and my aunt insiststhat my dignity requires I should be first called on. Confound suchdignity! say I, if it lose me the best and the pleasantest friends I everhad in my life. '

'I scarcely thought of _your_ dignity, Gorman O'Shea, ' said the old lady, bridling, 'though I did bestow some consideration on my own. '

'I'm very sorry for it, aunt, and I tell you fairly--and there's nounpoliteness in the confession--that when I asked for my leave, KilgobbinCastle had its place in my thoughts as well as O'Shea's Barn. '

'Why not say it out, young gentleman, and tell me that the real charm ofcoming here was to be within twelve miles of the Kearneys. '

'The merits of this house are very independent of contiguity, ' said thepriest; and as he eyed the claret in his glass, it was plain that thesentiment was an honest one. 

'Fifty-six wine, I should say, ' said Miller, as he laid down his glass. 

'Forty-five, if Mr. Barton be a man of his word, ' said the old ladyreprovingly. 

'Ah, ' sighed the priest plaintively, 'how rarely one meets these oldfull-bodied clarets nowadays. The free admission of French wines hascorrupted taste and impaired palate. Our cheap Gladstones have come upon uslike universal suffrage. '

'The masses, however, benefit, ' remarked Miller. 

'Only in the first moment of acquisition, and in the novelty of the gain, 'continued Father Luke; 'and then they suffer irreparably in the lossof that old guidance, which once directed appreciation when there wassomething to appreciate. '

'We want the priest again, in fact, ' broke in Gorman. 

'You must admit they understand wine to perfection, though I would humblyhope, young gentleman, ' said the Father modestly, 'to engage your goodopinion of them on higher grounds. '

'Give yourself no trouble in the matter, Father Luke, ' broke in Miss Betty. 'Gorman's Austrian lessons have placed him beyond _your_ teaching. '

'My dear aunt, you are giving the Imperial Government a credit it neverdeserved. They taught me as a cadet to groom my horse and pipeclay myuniform, to be respectful to my corporal, and to keep my thumb on the seamof my trousers when the captain's eye was on me; but as to what passedinside my mind, if I had a mind at all, or what I thought of Pope, Kaiser, or Cardinal, they no more cared to know it than the name of my sweetheart. '

'What a blessing to that benighted country would be one liberal statesman!'exclaimed Miller: 'one man of the mind and capacity of our presentPremier!'

'Heaven forbid!' cried Gorman. 'We have confusion enough, without thereflection of being governed by what you call here "healing measures. "'

'I should like to discuss that point with you, ' said Miller. 

'Not now, I beg, ' interposed Miss O'Shea. 'Gorman, will you decant anotherbottle?'

'I believe I ought to protest against more wine, ' said the priest, in hismost insinuating voice; 'but there are occasions where the yielding totemptation conveys a moral lesson. '

'I suspect that I cultivate my nature a good deal in that fashion, ' saidGorman, as he opened a fresh bottle. 

'This is perfectly delicious, ' said Miller, as he sipped his glass; 'and ifI could venture to presume so far, I would ask leave to propose a toast. '

'You have my permission, sir, ' said Miss Betty, with stateliness. 

'I drink, then, ' said he reverently, 'I drink to the long life, the goodhealth, and the unbroken courage of the Holy Father. '

There was something peculiarly sly in the twinkle of the priest's black eyeas he filled his bumper, and a twitching motion of the corner of his mouthcontinued even as he said, 'To the Pope. '

'The Pope, ' said Gorman as he eyed his wine--

 '"Der Papst lebt herrlich in der Welt. "'

'What are you muttering there?' asked his aunt fiercely. 

'The line of an old song, aunt, that tells us how his Holiness has a jollytime of it. '

'I fear me it must have been written in other days, ' said Father Luke. 

'There is no intention to desert or abandon him, I assure you, ' saidMiller, addressing him in a low but eager tone. 'I could never--no Irishmancould--ally himself to an administration which should sacrifice the HolySee. With the bigotry that prevails in England, the question requires mostdelicate handling; and even a pledge cannot be given except in language sovague and unprecise as to admit of many readings. '

'Why not bring in a Bill to give him a subsidy, a something per annum, or around sum down?' cried Gorman. 

'Mr. Miller has just shown us that Exeter Hall might become dangerous. English intolerance is not a thing to be rashly aroused. '

'If I had to deal with him, I'd do as Bright proposed with your landlordshere. I'd buy him out, give him a handsome sum for his interest, and lethim go. '

'And how would you deal with the Church, sir?' asked the priest. 

'I have not thought of that; but I suppose one might put it intocommission, as they say, or manage it by a Board, with a First Lord, likethe Admiralty. '

'I will give you some tea, gentlemen, when you appear in the drawing-room, 'said Miss Betty, rising with dignity, as though her condescension insitting so long with the party had been ill rewarded by her nephew'ssentiments. 

The priest, however, offered his arm, and the others followed as he leftthe room. 

CHAPTER XXXIX

AN EARLY GALLOP

Mathew Kearney had risen early, an unusual thing with him of late; but hehad some intention of showing his guest Mr. Walpole over the farm afterbreakfast, and was anxious to give some preliminary orders to haveeverything 'ship-shape' for the inspection. 

To make a very disorderly and much-neglected Irish farm assume an air ofdiscipline, regularity, and neatness at a moment's notice, was pretty muchsuch an exploit as it would have been to muster an Indian tribe, and passthem before some Prussian martinet as a regiment of guards. 

To make the ill-fenced and misshapen fields seem trim paddocks, waveringand serpentining furrows appear straight and regular lines of tillage, weed-grown fields look marvels of cleanliness and care, while the loungingand ragged population were to be passed off as a thriving and industriouspeasantry, well paid and contented, were difficulties that Mr. Kearney didnot propose to confront. Indeed, to do him justice, he thought there wasa good deal of pedantic and 'model-farming' humbug about all that Englishpassion for neatness he had read of in public journals, and as ourfathers--better gentlemen, as he called them, and more hospitable fellowsthan any of us--had got on without steam-mowing and threshing, andbone-crushing, he thought we might farm our properties without being eitherblacksmiths or stokers. 

'God help us, ' he would say, 'I suppose we'll be chewing our food by steamone of these days, and filling our stomachs by hydraulic pressure. But formy own part, I like something to work for me that I can swear at when itgoes wrong. There's little use in cursing a cylinder. '

To have heard him amongst his labourers that morning, it was plain to seethat they were not in the category of machinery. On one pretext or another, however, they had slunk away one by one, so that at last he found himselfstorming alone in a stubble-field, with no other companion than one ofKate's terriers. The sharp barking of this dog aroused him in the midst ofhis imprecations, and looking over the dry-stone wall that inclosed thefield, he saw a horseman coming along at a sharp canter, and taking thefences as they came like a man in a hunting-field. He rode well, and wasmounted upon a strong wiry hackney--a cross-bred horse, and of little moneyvalue, but one of those active cats of horseflesh that a knowing hand canappreciate. Now, little as Kearney liked the liberty of a man riding overhis ditches and his turnips when out of hunting season, his old love ofgood horsemanship made him watch the rider with interest and even pleasure. 'May I never!' muttered he to himself, 'if he's not coming at this wall. 'And as the inclosure in question was built of large jagged stones, withoutmortar, and fully four feet in height, the upper course being formed of asort of coping in which the stones stood edgewise, the attempt did looksomewhat rash. Not taking the wall where it was slightly breached, andwhere some loose stones had fallen, the rider rode boldly at one of thehighest portions, but where the ground was good on either side. 

'He knows what he's at!' muttered Kearney, as the horse came bounding overand alighted in perfect safety in the field. 

'Well done! whoever you are, ' cried Kearney, delighted, as the riderremoved his hat and turned round to salute him. 

'And don't you know me, sir?' asked he. 

''Faith, I do not, ' replied Kearney; 'but somehow I think I know thechestnut. To be sure I do. There's the old mark on her knee, how ever shefound the man who could throw her down. Isn't she Miss O'Shea's Kattoo?'

'That she is, sir, and I'm her nephew. '

'Are you?' said Kearney dryly. 

The young fellow was so terribly pulled up by the unexpected repulse--moremarked even by the look than the words of the other--that he sat unableto utter a syllable. 'I had hoped, sir, ' said he at last, 'that I had notoutgrown your recollection, as I can promise none of your former kindnessto me has outgrown mine. '

'But it took you three weeks to recall it, all the same, ' said Kearney. 

'It is true, sir, I am very nearly so long here; but my aunt, whose guest Iam, told me I must be called on first; that--I'm sure I can't say for whosebenefit it was supposed to be--I should not make the first visit; in fact, there was some rule about the matter, and that I must not contravene it. And although I yielded with a very bad grace, I was in a measure underorders, and dared not resist. '

'She told you, of course, that we were not on our old terms: that therewas a coldness between the families, and we had seen nothing of each otherlately?'

'Not a word of it, sir. '

'Nor of any reason why you should not come here as of old?'

'None, on my honour; beyond this piece of stupid etiquette, I never heardof anything like a reason. '

'I am all the better pleased with my old neighbour, ' said Kearney, in hismore genial tone. 'Not, indeed, that I ought ever to have distrusted her, but for all that--Well, never mind, ' muttered he, as though debating thequestion with himself, and unable to decide it, 'you are here now--eh! Youare here now. '

'You almost make me suspect, sir, that I ought not to be here now. '

'At all events, if you were waiting for me you wouldn't be here. Is notthat true, young gentleman?'

'Quite true, sir, but not impossible to explain. ' And he now flung himselfto the ground, and with the rein over his arm, came up to Kearney's side. 'I suppose, but for an accident, I should have gone on waiting for thatvisit you had no intention to make me, and canvassing with myself how longyou were taking to make up your mind to call on me, when I heard only lastnight that some noted rebel--I'll remember his name in a minute or two--wasseen in the neighbourhood, and that the police were on his track with awarrant, and even intended to search for him here. '

'In my house--in Kilgobbin Castle?'

'Yes, here in your house, where, from a sure information, he had beenharboured for some days. This fellow--a head-centre, or leader, with alarge sum on his head--has, they say, got away; but the hope of findingsome papers, some clue to him here, will certainly lead them to search thecastle, and I thought I'd come over and apprise you of it at all events, lest the surprise should prove too much for your temper. '

'Do they forget I'm in the commission of the peace?' said Kearney, in avoice trembling with passion. 

'You know far better than me how far party spirit tempers life in thiscountry, and are better able to say whether some private intention toinsult is couched under this attempt. '

'That's true, ' cried the old man, ever ready to regard himself as theobject of some secret malevolence. 'You cannot remember this rebel's name, can you?'

'It was Daniel something--that's all I know. '

A long, fine whistle was Kearney's rejoinder, and after a second or two hesaid, 'I can trust you, Gorman; and I may tell you they may be not so greatfools as I took them for. Not that I was harbouring the fellow, mind you;but there came a college friend of Dick's here a few days back--a cleverfellow he was, and knew Ireland well--and we called him Mr. Daniel, and itwas but yesterday he left us and did not return. I have a notion now he wasthe head-centre they're looking for. '

'Do you know if he has left any baggage or papers behind him?'

'I know nothing about this whatever, nor do I know how far Dick was in hissecret. '

'You will be cool and collected, I am sure, sir, when they come here withthe search-warrant. You'll not give them even the passing triumph of seeingthat you are annoyed or offended?'

'That I will, my lad. I'm prepared now, and I'll take them as easy as ifit was a morning call. Come in and have your breakfast with us, and saynothing about what we've been talking over. '

'Many thanks, sir, but I think--indeed I feel sure--I ought to go back atonce. I have come here without my aunt's knowledge, and now that I haveseen you and put you on your guard, I ought to go back as fast as I can. '

'So you shall, when you feed your beast and take something yourself. Poorold Kattoo isn't used to this sort of cross-country work, and she's pantingthere badly enough. That mare is twenty-one years of age. '

'She's fresh on her legs--not a curb nor a spavin, nor even a wind-gallabout her, ' said the young man. 

'And the reward for it all is to be ridden like a steeplechaser!' sighedold Kearney. 'Isn't that the world over? Break down early, and you are agood-for-nothing. Carry on your spirit, and your pluck, and your enduranceto a green old age, and maybe they won't take it out of you!--alwayscontrasting you, however, with yourself long ago, and telling thebystanders what a rare beast you were in your good days. Do you think theyhad dared to pass this insult upon _me_ when I was five-and-twenty orthirty? Do you think there's a man in the county would have come on thiserrand to search Kilgobbin when I was a young man, Mr. O'Shea?'

'I think you can afford to treat it with the contempt you have determinedto show it. '

'That's all very fine now, ' said Kearney; 'but there was a time I'd ratherhave chucked the chief constable out of the window and sent the sergeantafter him. '

'I don't know whether that would have been better, ' said Gorman, with afaint smile. 

'Neither do I; but I know that I myself would have felt better and easierin my mind after it. I'd have eaten my breakfast with a good appetite, andgone about my day's work, whatever it was, with a free heart and fearlessin my conscience! Ay, ay, ' muttered he to himself, 'poor old Ireland isn'twhat it used to be!'

'I'm very sorry, sir, but though I'd like immensely to go back with you, don't you think I ought to return home?'

'I don't think anything of the sort. Your aunt and I had a tiff the lasttime we met, and that was some months ago. We're both of us old andcross-grained enough to keep up the grudge for the rest of our lives. Letus, then, make the most of the accident that has led you here, and whenyou go home, you shall be the bearer of the most submissive message I caninvent to my old friend, and there shall be no terms too humble for me toask her pardon. '

'That's enough, sir. I'll breakfast here. '

'Of course you'll say nothing of what brought you over here. But I oughtto warn you not to drop anything carelessly about politics in the countygenerally, for we have a young relative and a private secretary of theLord-Lieutenant's visiting us, and it's as well to be cautious before him. '

The old man mentioned this circumstance in the cursory tone of an ordinaryremark, but he could not conceal the pride he felt in the rank andcondition of his guest. As for Gorman, perhaps it was his foreign breeding, perhaps his ignorance of all home matters generally, but he simply assentedto the force of the caution, and paid no other attention to the incident. 

'His name is Walpole, and he is related to half the peerage, ' said the oldman, with some irritation of manner. 

A mere nod acknowledged the information, and he went on--

'This was the young fellow who was with Kitty on the night they attackedthe castle, and he got both bones of his forearm smashed with a shot. '

'An ugly wound, ' was the only rejoinder. 

'So it was, and for a while they thought he'd lose the arm. Kitty says hebehaved beautifully, cool and steady all through. '

Another nod, but this time Gorman's lips were firmly compressed. 

'There's no denying it, ' said the old man, with a touch of sadness in hisvoice--'there's no denying it, the English have courage; though, ' added heafterwards, 'it's in a cold, sluggish way of their own, which we don't likehere. There he is, now, that young fellow that has just parted from the twogirls. The tall one is my niece--I must present you to her. '

CHAPTER XL

OLD MEMORIES

Though both Kate Kearney and young O'Shea had greatly outgrown each other'srecollection, there were still traits of feature remaining, and certaintones of voice, by which they were carried back to old times and oldassociations. 

Amongst the strange situations in life, there are few stranger, or, incertain respects, more painful, than the meeting after long absence ofthose who, when they had parted years before, were on terms of closestintimacy, and who now see each other changed by time, with altered habitsand manners, and impressed in a variety of ways with influences andassociations which impart their own stamp on character. 

It is very difficult at such moments to remember how far we ourselves havechanged in the interval, and how much of what we regard as altered inanother may not simply be the new standpoint from which we are looking, andthus our friend may be graver, or sadder, or more thoughtful, or, as it mayhappen, seem less reflective and less considerative than we have thoughthim, all because the world has been meantime dealing with ourselves in suchwise that qualities we once cared for have lost much of their value, andothers that we had deemed of slight account have grown into importance withus. 

Most of us know the painful disappointment of revisiting scenes which hadimpressed us strongly in early life: how the mountain we regarded with awondering admiration had become a mere hill, and the romantic tarn a poolof sluggish water; and some of this same awakening pursues us in ourrenewal of old intimacies, and we find ourselves continually warring withour recollections. 

Besides this, there is another source of uneasiness that pressesunceasingly. It is in imputing every change we discover, or think wediscover in our friend, to some unknown influences that have asserted theirpower over him in our absence, and thus when we find that our argumentshave lost their old force, and our persuasions can be stoutly resisted, webegin to think that some other must have usurped our place, and that thereis treason in the heart we had deemed to be loyally our own. 

How far Kate and Gorman suffered under these irritations, I do not stop toinquire, but certain it is, that all their renewed intercourse waslittle other than snappish reminders of unfavourable change in each, andassurances more frank than flattering that they had not improved in theinterval. 

'How well I know every tree and alley of this old garden!' said he, asthey strolled along one of the walks in advance of the others. 'Nothing ischanged here but the people. '

'And do you think we are?' asked she quietly. 

'I should think I do! Not so much for your father, perhaps. I suppose menof his time of life change little, if at all; but you are as ceremonious asif I had been introduced to you this morning. '

'You addressed me so deferentially as Miss Kearney, and with such anassuring little intimation that you were not either very certain of _that_, that I should have been very courageous indeed to remind you that I oncewas Kate. '

'No, not Kate--Kitty, ' rejoined he quickly. 

'Oh yes, perhaps, when you were young, but we grew out of that. '

'Did we? And when?'

'When we gave up climbing cherry-trees, and ceased to pull each other'shair when we were angry. '

'Oh dear!' said he drearily, as his head sank heavily. 

'You seem to sigh over those blissful times, Mr. O'Shea, ' said she, 'as ifthey were terribly to be regretted. '

'So they are. So I feel them. '

'I never knew before that quarrelling left such pleasant associations. '

'My memory is good enough to remember times when we were notquarrelling--when I used to think you were nearer an angel than a humancreature--ay, when I have had the boldness to tell you so. '

'You don't mean _that_?'

'I do mean it, and I should like to know why I should not mean it?'

'For a great many reasons--one amongst the number, that it would have beenhighly indiscreet to turn a poor child's head with a stupid flattery. '

'But were you a child? If I'm right, you were not very far from fifteen atthe time I speak of. '

'How shocking that you should remember a young lady's age!'

'That is not the point at all, ' said he, as though she had beenendeavouring to introduce another issue. 

'And what is the point, pray?' asked she haughtily. 

'Well, it is this--how many have uttered what you call stupid flatteriessince that time, and how have they been taken. '

'Is this a question?' asked she. 'I mean a question seeking to beanswered?'

'I hope so. '

'Assuredly, then, Mr. O'Shea, however time has been dealing with _me_, ithas contrived to take marvellous liberties with _you_ since we met. Do youknow, sir, that this is a speech you would not have uttered long ago forworlds?'

'If I have forgotten myself as well as you, ' said he, with deep humility, 'I very humbly crave pardon. Not but there were days, 'added he, 'when mymistake, if I made one, would have been forgiven without my asking. '

'There's a slight touch of presumption, sir, in telling me what a wonderfulperson I used to think you long ago. '

'So you did, ' cried he eagerly. 'In return for the homage I laid at yourfeet--as honest an adoration as ever a heart beat with--you condescended tolet me build my ambitions before you, and I must own you made the edificevery dear to me. '

'To be sure, I do remember it all, and I used to play or sing, "_MeinSchatz ist ein Reiter_, " and take your word that you were going to be aLancer--

 "In file arrayed, With helm and blade, And plume in the gay wind dancing. "

I'm certain my cousin would be charmed to see you in all your bravery. '

'Your cousin will not speak to me for being an Austrian. '

'Has she told you so?'

'Yes, she said it at breakfast. '

'That denunciation does not sound very dangerously; is it not worth yourwhile to struggle against a misconception?'

'I have had such luck in my present attempt as should scarcely raise mycourage. '

'You are too ingenious by far for me, Mr. O'Shea, ' said she carelessly. 'Ineither remember so well as you, nor have I that nice subtlety in detectingall the lapses each of us has made since long ago. Try, however, if youcannot get on better with Mademoiselle Kostalergi, where there are noantecedents to disturb you. '

'I will; that is if she let me. '

'I trust she may, and not the less willingly, perhaps, as she evidentlywill not speak to Mr. Walpole. '

'Ah, indeed, and is _he_ here?' he stopped and hesitated; and the full boldlook she gave him did not lessen his embarrassment. 

'Well, sir, ' asked she, 'go on: is this another reminiscence?'

'No, Miss Kearney; I was only thinking of asking you who this Mr. Walpolewas. '

'Mr. Cecil Walpole is a nephew or a something to the Lord-Lieutenant, whoseprivate secretary he is. He is very clever, very amusing--sings, draws, rides, and laughs at the Irish to perfection. I hope you mean to like him. '

'Do you?'

'Of course, or I should not have bespoken your sympathy. My cousin used tolike him, but somehow he has fallen out of favour with her. '

'Was he absent some time?' asked he, with a half-cunning manner. 

'Yes, I believe there was something of that in it. He was not here fora considerable time, and when we saw him again, we almost owned we weredisappointed. Papa is calling me from the window, pray excuse me for amoment. ' She left him as she spoke, and ran rapidly back to the house, whence she returned almost immediately. 'It was to ask you to stop and dinehere, Mr. O'Shea, ' said she. 'There will be ample time to send back to MissO'Shea, and if you care to have your dinner-dress, they can send it. '

'This is Mr. Kearney's invitation?' asked he. 

'Of course; papa is the master at Kilgobbin. '

'But will Miss Kearney condescend to say that it is hers also. '

'Certainly, though I'm not aware what solemnity the engagement gains by myco-operation. '

'I accept at once, and if you allow me, I'll go back and send a line to myaunt to say so. '

'Don't you remember Mr. O'Shea, Dick?' asked she, as her brother loungedup, making his first appearance that day. 

'I'd never have known you, ' said he, surveying him from head to foot, without, however, any mark of cordiality in the recognition. 

'All find me a good deal changed!' said the young fellow, drawing himselfto his full height, and with an air that seemed to say--'and none the worsefor it. '

'I used to fancy I was more than your match, ' rejoined Dick, smiling; 'Isuspect it's a mistake I am little likely to incur again. '

'Don't, Dick, for he has got a very ugly way of ridding people of theirillusions, ' said Kate, as she turned once more and walked rapidly towardsthe house. 

CHAPTER XLI

TWO FAMILIAR EPISTLES

There were a number of bolder achievements Gorman O'Shea would have daredrather than write a note; nor were the cares of the composition theonly difficulties of the undertaking. He knew of but one style ofcorrespondence--the report to his commanding officer, and in this he wasaided by a formula to be filled up. It was not, then, till after severalefforts, he succeeded in the following familiar epistle:--

'KILGOBBIN CASTLE. 

'DEAR AUNT, --Don't blow up or make a rumpus, but if I had not taken themare and come over here this morning, the rascally police with theirsearch-warrant might have been down upon Mr. Kearney without a warning. They were all stiff and cold enough at first: they are nothing to brag ofin the way of cordiality even yet--Dick especially--but they have asked meto stay and dine, and, I take it, it is the right thing to do. Send me oversome things to dress with--and believe me your affectionate nephew, 'G. O'SHEA. 

'I send the mare back, and shall walk home to-morrow morning. 

'There's a great Castle swell here, a Mr. Walpole, but I have not made hisacquaintance yet, and can tell nothing about him. '

 * * * * *

Towards a late hour of the afternoon a messenger arrived with an ass-cartand several trunks from O'Shea's Barn, and with the following note:--

'DEAR NEPHEW GORMAN, --O'Shea's Barn is not an inn, nor are the horsesthere at public livery. So much for your information. As you seem fond of"warnings, " let me give you one, which is, To mind your own affairs inpreference to the interests of other people. The family at Kilgobbin areperfectly welcome--so far as I am concerned--to the fascinations of yoursociety at dinner to-day, at breakfast to-morrow, and so on, with suchregularity and order as the meals succeed. To which end, I have now sentyou all the luggage belonging to you here. --I am, very respectfully, youraunt, ELIZABETH O'SHEA. '

The quaint, old-fashioned, rugged writing was marked throughout by acertain distinctness and accuracy that betoken care and attention--therewas no evidence whatever of haste or passion--and this expression of aserious determination, duly weighed and resolved on, made itself verypainfully felt by the young man as he read. 

'I am turned out--in plain words, turned out!' said he aloud, as he satwith the letter spread out before him. 'It must have been no commonquarrel--not a mere coldness between the families--when she resents mycoming here in this fashion. ' That innumerable differences could separateneighbours in Ireland, even persons with the same interests and the samereligion, he well knew, and he solaced himself to think how he could getat the source of this disagreement, and what chance there might be of areconciliation. 

Of one thing he felt certain. Whether his aunt were right or wrong, whethertyrant or victim, he knew in his heart all the submission must come fromthe others. He had only to remember a few of the occasions in life in whichhe had to entreat his aunt's forgiveness for the injustice she had herselfinflicted, to anticipate what humble pie Mathew Kearney must partake of inorder to conciliate Miss Betty's favour. 

'Meanwhile, ' he thought, and not only thought, but said too--'Meanwhile, Iam on the world. '

Up to this, she had allowed him a small yearly income. Father Luke, whosejudgment on all things relating to continental life was unimpeachable, hadtold her that anything like the reputation of being well off or connectedwith wealthy people would lead a young man into ruin in the Austrianservice; that with a sum of 3000 francs per annum--about £120--he would bein possession of something like the double of his pay, or rather more, andthat with this he would be enabled to have all the necessaries and many ofthe comforts of his station, and still not be a mark for that high play andreckless style of living that certain young Hungarians of family and largefortune affected; and so far the priest was correct, for the young Gormanwas wasteful and extravagant from disposition, and his quarter's allowancedisappeared almost when it came. His money out, he fell back at once tothe penurious habits of the poorest subaltern about him, and lived on hisflorin-and-half per diem till his resources came round again. He hoped--ofcourse he hoped--that this momentary fit of temper would not extend tostopping his allowance. 

'She knows as well as any one, ' muttered he, 'that though the baker's sonfrom Prague, or the Amtmann's nephew from a Bavarian Dorf, may manage to"come through" with his pay, the young Englishman cannot. I can neitherpiece my own overalls, nor forswear stockings, nor can I persuade mystomach that it has had a full meal by tightening my girth-strap three orfour holes. 

'I'd go down to the ranks to-morrow rather than live that life of struggleand contrivance that reduces a man to playing a dreary game with himself, by which, while he feels like a pauper, he has to fancy he felt like agentleman. No, no, I'll none of this. Scores of better men have served inthe ranks. I'll just change my regiment. By a lucky chance, I don't know aman in the Walmoden Cuirassiers. I'll join them, and nobody will ever bethe wiser. '

There is a class of men who go through life building very small castles, and are no more discouraged by the frailty of the architecture than is achild with his toy-house. This was Gorman's case; and now that he had founda solution of his difficulties in the Walmoden Cuirassiers, he reallydressed for dinner in very tolerable spirits. 'It's droll enough, ' thoughthe, 'to go down to dine amongst all these "swells, " and to think that thefellow behind my chair is better off than myself. ' The very uncertaintyof his fate supplied excitement to his spirits, for it is amongst theprivileges of the young that mere flurry can be pleasurable. 

When Gorman reached the drawing-room, he found only one person. This wasa young man in a shooting-coat, who, deep in the recess of a comfortablearm-chair, sat with the _Times_ at his feet, and to all appearance as ifhalf dozing. 

He looked around, however, as young O'Shea came forward, and saidcarelessly, 'I suppose it's time to go and dress--if I could. '

O'Shea making no reply, the other added, 'That is, if I have not oversleptdinner altogether. '

'I hope not, sincerely, ' rejoined the other, 'or I shall be a partner inthe misfortune. '

'Ah, you 're the Austrian, ' said Walpole, as he stuck his glass in his eyeand surveyed him. 

'Yes; and you are the private secretary of the Governor. '

'Only we don't call him Governor. We say Viceroy here. '

'With all my heart, Viceroy be it. '

There was a pause now--each, as it were, standing on his guard to resentany liberty of the other. At last Walpole said, 'I don't think you were inthe house when that stupid stipendiary fellow called here this morning?'

'No; I was strolling across the fields. He came with the police, Isuppose?'

'Yes, he came on the track of some Fenian leader--a droll thought enoughanywhere out of Ireland, to search for a rebel under a magistrate's roof;not but there was something still more Irish in the incident. '

'How was that?' asked O'Shea eagerly. 

'I chanced to be out walking with the ladies when the escort came, andas they failed to find the man they were after, they proceeded to makediligent search for his papers and letters. That taste for practicaljoking, that seems an instinct in this country, suggested to Mr. Kearneyto direct the fellows to my room, and what do you think they have done?Carried off bodily all my baggage, and left me with nothing but the clothesI'm wearing!'

'What a lark!' cried O'Shea, laughing. 

'Yes, I take it that is the national way to look at these things; but thatpassion for absurdity and for ludicrous situations has not the same hold onus English. '

'I know that. You are too well off to be droll. '

'Not exactly that; but when we want to laugh we go to the Adelphi. '

'Heaven help you if you have to pay people to make fun for you!'

Before Walpole could make rejoinder, the door opened to admit the ladies, closely followed by Mr. Kearney and Dick. 

'Not mine the fault if I disgrace your dinner-table by such a costume asthis, ' cried Walpole. 

'I'd have given twenty pounds if they'd have carried off yourself as therebel!' said the old man, shaking with laughter. 'But there's the soupon the table. Take my niece, Mr. Walpole; Gorman, give your arm to mydaughter. Dick and I will bring up the rear. '

CHAPTER XLII

AN EVENING IN THE DRAWING-ROOM

The fatalism of youth, unlike that of age, is all rose-coloured. That whichis coming, and is decreed to come, cannot be very disagreeable. This isthe theory of the young, and differs terribly from the experiences ofafter-life. Gorman O'Shea had gone to dinner with about as heavy amisfortune as could well befall him, so far as his future in life wasconcerned. All he looked forward to and hoped for was lost to him: theaunt who, for so many years, had stood to him in place of all family, hadsuddenly thrown him off, and declared that she would see him no more; theallowance she had hitherto given him withdrawn, it was impossible he couldcontinue to hold his place in his regiment. Should he determine not toreturn, it was desertion--should he go back, it must be to declare thathe was a ruined man, and could only serve in the ranks. These were thethoughts he revolved while he dressed for dinner, and dressed, let it beowned, with peculiar care; but when the task had been accomplished, andhe descended to the drawing-room, such was the elasticity of his youngtemperament, every thought of coming evil was merged in the sense ofpresent enjoyment, and the merry laughter which he overheard as he openedthe door, obliterated all notion that life had anything before him exceptwhat was agreeable and pleasant. 

'We want to know if you play croquet, Mr. O'Shea?' said Nina as he entered. 'And we want also to know, are you a captain, or a Rittmeister, or a major?You can scarcely be a colonel. '

'Your last guess I answer first. I am only a lieutenant, and even thatvery lately. As to croquet, if it be not your foreign mode of pronouncingcricket, I never even saw it. '

'It is not my foreign mode of pronouncing cricket, Herr Lieutenant, ' saidshe pertly, 'but I guessed already you had never heard of it. '

'It is an out-of-door affair, ' said Dick indolently, 'made for thediffusion of worked petticoats and Balmoral boots. '

'I should say it is the game of billiards brought down to universalsuffrage and the million, ' lisped out Walpole. 

'Faith, ' cried old Kearney, 'I'd say it was just football with a stick. '

'At all events, ' said Kate, 'we purpose to have a grand match to-morrow. Mr. Walpole and I are against Nina and Dick, and we are to draw lots foryou, Mr. O'Shea. '

'My position, if I understand it aright, is not a flattering one, ' said he, laughing. 

'We'll take him, ' cried Nina at once. 'I'll give him a private lesson inthe morning, and I'll answer for his performance. These creatures, 'added she, in a whisper, 'are so drilled in Austria, you can teach themanything. '

Now, as the words were spoken O'Shea caught them, and drawing close toher, said, 'I do hope I'll justify that flattering opinion. ' But her onlyrecognition was a look of half-defiant astonishment at his boldness. 

A very noisy discussion now ensued as to whether croquet was worthy to becalled a game or not, and what were its laws and rules--points which Gormanfollowed with due attention, but very little profit; all Kate's good senseand clearness being cruelly dashed by Nina's ingenious interruptions andWalpole's attempts to be smart and witty, even where opportunity scarcelyoffered the chance. 

'Next to looking on at the game, ' cried old Kearney at last, 'the mosttiresome thing I know of is to hear it talked over. Come, Nina, and give mea song. '

'What shall it be, uncle?' said she, as she opened the piano. 

'Something Irish, I'd say, if I were to choose for myself. We've plenty ofold tunes, Mr. Walpole, ' said Kearney, turning to that gentleman, 'thatrebellion, as you call it, has never got hold of. There's _"Cushla Macree"_and the _"Cailan deas cruidhte na Mbo. "_'

'Very like hard swearing that, ' said Walpole to Nina; but his simper andhis soft accent were only met by a cold blank look, as though she had notunderstood his liberty in addressing her. Indeed, in her distant manner, and even repelling coldness, there was what might have disconcertedany composure less consummate than his own. It was, however, evidentlyWalpole's aim to assume that she felt her relation towards him, and notaltogether without some cause; while she, on her part, desired to repel theinsinuation by a show of utter indifference. She would willingly, in thiscontingency, have encouraged her cousin, Dick Kearney, and even led him onto little displays of attention; but Dick held aloof, as though not knowingthe meaning of this favourable turn towards him. He would not be cheated bycoquetry. How many men are of this temper, and who never understand that itis by surrendering ourselves to numberless little voluntary deceptions ofthis sort, we arrive at intimacies the most real and most truthful. 

She next tried Gorman, and here her success was complete. All those womanlyprettinesses, which are so many modes of displaying graceful attraction ofvoice, look, gesture, or attitude, were especially dear to him. Not onlythey gave beauty its chief charm, but they constituted a sort of game, whose address was quickness of eye, readiness of perception, prompt reply, and that refined tact that can follow out one thought in a conversationjust as you follow a melody through a mass of variations. 

Perhaps the young soldier did not yield himself the less readily to thesecaptivations that Kate Kearney's manner towards him was studiously cold andceremonious. 

'The other girl is more like the old friend, ' muttered he, as he chatted onwith her about Rome, and Florence, and Venice, imperceptibly gliding intothe language which the names of places suggested. 

'If any had told me that I ever could have talked thus freely and openlywith an Austrian soldier, I'd not have believed him, ' said she at length, 'for all my sympathies in Italy were with the National party. '

[Illustration: He knelt down on one knee before her]

'But we were not the "Barbari" in your recollection, mademoiselle, ' saidhe. 'We were out of Italy before you could have any feeling for eitherparty. '

'The tradition of all your cruelties has survived you, and I am sure, ifyou were wearing your white coat still, I'd hate you. '

'You are giving me another reason to ask for a longer leave of absence, 'said he, bowing courteously. 

'And this leave of yours--how long does it last?'

'I am afraid to own to myself. Wednesday fortnight is the end of it; thatis, it gives me four days after that to reach Vienna. '

'And presenting yourself in humble guise before your colonel, to say, "_Ichmelde mich gehorsamst_. "'

'Not exactly that--but something like it. '

'I'll be the Herr Oberst Lieutenant, ' said she, laughing; 'so come forwardnow and clap your heels together, and let us hear how you utter your fewsyllables in true abject fashion. I'll sit here, and receive you. ' As shespoke, she threw herself into an arm-chair, and assuming a look of intensehauteur and defiance, affected to stroke an imaginary moustache with onehand, while with the other she waved a haughty gesture of welcome. 

'I have outstayed my leave, ' muttered Gorman, in a tremulous tone. 'I hopemy colonel, with that bland mercy which characterises him, will forgive myfault, and let me ask his pardon. ' And with this, he knelt down on one kneebefore her, and kissed her hand. 

'What liberties are these, sir?' cried she, so angrily, that it was noteasy to say whether the anger was not real. 

'It is the latest rule introduced into our service, ' said he, with mockhumility. 

'Is that a comedy they are acting yonder, ' said Walpole, 'or is it aproverb?'

'Whatever the drama, ' replied Kate coldly, 'I don't think they want apublic. '

'You may go back to your duty, Herr Lieutenant, ' said Nina proudly, andwith a significant glance towards Kate. 'Indeed, I suspect you have beenrather neglecting it of late. ' And with this she sailed majestically awaytowards the end of the room. 

'I wish I could provoke even that much of jealousy from the other, 'muttered Gorman to himself, as he bit his lip in passion. And certainly, ifa look and manner of calm unconcern meant anything, there was little thatseemed less likely. 

'I am glad you are going to the piano, Nina, ' said Kate. 'Mr. Walpole hasbeen asking me by what artifice you could be induced to sing something ofMendelssohn. '

'I am going to sing an Irish ballad for that Austrian patriot, who, likehis national poet, thinks "Ireland a beautiful country to live out of. "'Though a haughty toss of her head accompanied these words, there was aglance in her eye towards Gorman that plainly invited a renewal of theirhalf-flirting hostilities. 

'When I left it, _you_ had not been here, ' said he, with an obsequioustone, and an air of deference only too marked in its courtesy. 

A slight, very faint blush on her cheek showed that she rather resentedthan accepted the flattery, but she appeared to be occupied in lookingthrough the music-books, and made no rejoinder. 

'We want Mendelssohn, Nina, ' said Kate. 

'Or at least Spohr, ' added Walpole. 

'I never accept dictation about what I sing, ' muttered Nina, only loudenough to be overheard by Gorman. 'People don't tell you what theme you areto talk on; they don't presume to say, "Be serious or be witty. " They don'ttell you to come to the aid of their sluggish natures by passion, or todispel their dreariness by flights of fancy; and why are they to dare allthis to _us_ who speak through song?'

'Just because you alone can do these things, ' said Gorman, in the same lowvoice as she had spoken in. 

'Can I help you in your search, dearest?' said Kate, coming over to thepiano. 

'Might I hope to be of use?' asked Walpole. 

'Mr. O'Shea wants me to sing something for _him_, ' said Nina coldly. 'Whatis it to be?' asked she of Gorman. With the readiness of one who couldrespond to any sudden call upon his tact, Gorman at once took up a pieceof music from the mass before him, and said, 'Here is what I have beensearching for. ' It was a little Neapolitan ballad, of no peculiar beauty, but one of those simple melodies in which the rapid transition from deepfeeling to a wild, almost reckless, gaiety imparts all the character. 

'Yes, I'll sing that, ' said Nina; and almost in the same breath the notescame floating through the air, slow and sad at first, as though labouringunder some heavy sorrow; the very syllables faltered on her lips like agrief struggling for utterance--when, just as a thrilling cadence diedslowly away, she burst forth into the wildest and merriest strain, something so impetuous in gaiety, that the singer seemed to lose allcontrol of expression, and floated away in sound with every caprice ofenraptured imagination. When in the very whirlwind of this impetuousgladness, as though a memory of a terrible sorrow had suddenly crossed her, she ceased; then, in tones of actual agony, her voice rose to a cry of suchutter misery as despair alone could utter. The sounds died slowly away asthough lingeringly. Two bold chords followed, and she was silent. 

None spoke in the room. Was this real passion, or was it the mereexhibition of an accomplished artist, who could call up expression atwill, as easily as a painter could heighten colour? Kate Kearney evidentlybelieved the former, as her heaving chest and her tremulous lip betrayed, while the cold, simpering smile on Walpole's face, and the 'brava, bravissima' in which he broke the silence, vouched how he had interpretedthat show of emotion. 

'If that is singing, I wonder what is crying, ' cried old Kearney, while hewiped his eyes, very angry at his own weakness. ' And now will any one tellme what it was all about?'

'A young girl, sir, ' replied Gorman, 'who, by a great effort, has ralliedherself to dispel her sorrow and be merry, suddenly remembers that hersweetheart may not love her, and the more she dwells on the thought, themore firmly she believes it. That was the cry, "He never loved me, " thatwent to all our hearts. '

'Faith, then, if Nina has to say that, ' said the old man, 'Heaven help theothers. '

'Indeed, uncle, you are more gallant than all these young gentlemen, ' saidNina, rising and approaching him. 

'Why they are not all at your feet this moment is more than I can tell. They're always telling me the world is changed, and I begin to see it now. '

'I suspect, sir, it's pretty much what it used to be, ' lisped out Walpole. 'We are only less demonstrative than our fathers. '

'Just as I am less extravagant than mine, ' cried Kilgobbin, 'because I havenot got it to spend. '

'I hope Mademoiselle Nina judges us more mercifully, ' said Walpole. 

'Is that song a favourite of yours?' asked she of Gorman, without noticingWalpole's remark in any way. 

'No, ' said he bluntly; 'it makes me feel like a fool, and, I am afraid, look like one too, when I hear it. '

'I'm glad there's even that much blood in you, ' cried old Kearney, who hadcaught the words. 'Oh dear! oh dear! England need never be afraid of theyoung generation. '

'That seems to be a very painful thought to you, sir, ' said Walpole. 

'And so it is, ' replied he. 'The lower we bend, the more you'll lay on us. It was your language, and what you call your civilisation, broke us downfirst, and the little spirit that fought against either is fast dying outof us. '

'Do you want Mr. Walpole to become a Fenian, papa?' asked Kate. 

'You see, they took him for one to-day, ' broke in Dick, 'when they came andcarried off all his luggage. '

'By the way, ' interposed Walpole, 'we must take care that that stupidblunder does not get into the local papers, or we shall have it circulatedby the London press. '

'I have already thought of that, ' said Dick, 'and I shall go into Moateto-morrow and see about it. '

'Does that mean to say that you desert croquet?' said Nina imperiously. 

'You have got Lieutenant O'Shea in my place, and a better player than mealready. '

'I fear I must take my leave to-morrow, ' said Gorman, with a touch of realsorrow, for in secret he knew not whither he was going. 

'Would your aunt not spare you to us for a few days?' said the old man. 'Iam in no favour with her just now, but she would scarcely refuse what wewould all deem a great favour. '

'My aunt would not think the sacrifice too much for her, ' said Gorman, trying to laugh at the conceit. 

'You shall stay, ' murmured Nina, in a tone only audible to him; and by aslight bow he acknowledged the words as a command. 

'I believe my best way, ' said Gorman gaily, 'will be to outstay my leave, and take my punishment, whatever it be, when I go back again. '

'That is military morality, ' said Walpole, in a half-whisper to Kate, butto be overheard by Nina. 'We poor civilians don't understand how to keep adebtor and creditor account with conscience. '

'Could you manage to provoke that man to quarrel with you?' said Ninasecretly to Gorman, while her eyes glanced towards Walpole. 

'I think I might; but what then? _He_ wouldn't fight, and the rest ofEngland would shun me. '

'That is true, ' said she slowly. 'When any is injured here, he tries tomake money out of it. I don't suppose you want money?'

'Not earned in that fashion, certainly. But I think they are sayinggood-night. '

'They're always boasting about the man that found out the safety-lamp, 'said old Kearney, as he moved away; 'but give me the fellow that invented aflat candlestick!'

CHAPTER XLIII

SOME NIGHT-THOUGHTS

When Gorman reached his room, into which a rich flood of moonlight wasstreaming, he extinguished his candle, and, seating himself at the openwindow, lighted his cigar, seriously believing he was going to reflect onhis present condition, and forecast something of the future. Though hehad spoken so cavalierly of outstaying his time, and accepting arrestafterwards, the jest was by no means so palatable now that he was alone, and could own to himself that the leave he possessed was the unlimitedliberty to be houseless and a vagabond, to have none to claim, no roof toshelter him. 

His aunt's law-agent, the same Mr. McKeown who acted for Lord Kilgobbin, had once told Gorman that all the King's County property of the O'Sheas wasentailed upon him, and that his aunt had no power to alienate it. It istrue the old lady disputed this position, and so strongly resented evenallusion to it, that, for the sake of inheriting that twelve thousandpounds she possessed in Dutch stock, McKeown warned Gorman to avoidanything that might imply his being aware of this fact. 

Whether a general distrust of all legal people and their assertions was thereason, or whether mere abstention from the topic had impaired the force ofits truth, or whether--more likely than either--he would not suffer himselfto question the intentions of one to whom he owed so much, certain is ityoung O'Shea almost felt as much averse to the belief as the old ladyherself, and resented the thought of its being true, as of something thatwould detract from the spirit of the affection she had always borne him, and that he repaid by a love as faithful. 

'No, no. Confound it!' he would say to himself. 'Aunt Betty loves me, andmoney has no share in the affection I bear her. If she knew I must be herheir, she'd say so frankly and freely. She'd scorn the notion of doling outto me as benevolence what one day would be my own by right. She is proudand intolerant enough, but she is seldom unjust--never so willingly andconsciously. If, then, she has not said O'Shea's Barn must be mine sometime, it is because she knows well it cannot be true. Besides, this verylast step of hers, this haughty dismissal of me from her house, implies thepossession of a power which she would not dare to exercise if she were buta life-tenant of the property. Last of all, had she speculated ever soremotely on my being the proprietor of Irish landed property, it was mostunlikely she would so strenuously have encouraged me to pursue my careeras an Austrian soldier, and turn all my thoughts to my prospects under theEmpire. '

In fact, she never lost the opportunity of reminding him how unfit he wasto live in Ireland or amongst Irishmen. 

Such reflections as I have briefly hinted at here took him some time toarrive at, for his thoughts did not come freely, or rapidly make place forothers. The sum of them, however, was that he was thrown upon the world, and just at the very threshold of life, and when it held out its morealluring prospects. 

There is something peculiarly galling to the man who is wincing under thepang of poverty to find that the world regards him as rich and well off, and totally beyond the accidents of fortune. It is not simply that he feelshow his every action will be misinterpreted and mistaken, and a spirit ofthrift, if not actual shabbiness, ascribed to all that he does, but he alsoregards himself as a sort of imposition or sham, who has gained access to aplace he has no right to occupy, and to associate on terms of equality withmen of tastes and habits and ambitions totally above his own. It was inthis spirit he remembered Nina's chance expression, 'I don't suppose _you_want money!' There could be no other meaning in the phrase than someforegone conclusion about his being a man of fortune. Of course sheacquired this notion from those around her. As a stranger to Ireland, all she knew, or thought she knew, had been conveyed by others. 'I don'tsuppose _you_ want money' was another way of saying, 'You are your aunt'sheir. You are the future owner of the O'Shea estates. No vast property, itis true; but quite enough to maintain the position of a gentleman. '

'Who knows how much of this Lord Kilgobbin or his son Dick believed?'thought he. 'But certainly my old playfellow Kate has no faith in thematter, or if she have, it has little weight with her in her estimate ofme. 

'It was in this very room I was lodged something like five years ago. Itwas at this very window I used to sit at night, weaving Heaven knows whatdreams of a future. I was very much in love in those days, and a veryhonest and loyal love it was. I wanted to be very great, and very gallant, and distinguished, and above all, very rich; but only for _her_, only that_she_ might be surrounded with every taste and luxury that became her, and that she should share them with me. I knew well she was better thanme--better in every way: not only purer, and simpler, and more gentle, butmore patient, more enduring, more tenacious of what was true, and moredecidedly the enemy of what was merely expedient. Then, was she notproud? not with the pride of birth or station, or of an old name and atime-honoured house, but proud that whatever she did or said amongst thetenantry or the neighbours, none ever ventured to question or even qualifythe intention that suggested it. The utter impossibility of ascribing adouble motive to her, or of imagining any object in what she counselled butthe avowed one, gave her a pride that accompanied her through every hour oflife. 

'Last of all, she believed in _me_--believed I was going to be one daysomething very famous and distinguished: a gallant soldier, whose verypresence gave courage to the men who followed him, and with a name repeatedin honour over Europe. The day was too short for these fancies, for theygrew actually as we fed them, and the wildest flight of imagination led uson to the end of the time when there would be but one hope, one ambition, and one heart between us. 

'I am convinced that had any one at that time hinted to her that I was toinherit the O'Shea estates, he would have dealt a most dangerous blow toher affection for me. The romance of that unknown future had a great sharein our compact. And then we were so serious about it all--the very gravityit impressed being an ecstasy to our young hearts in the thought ofself-importance and responsibility. Nor were we without our littletiffs--those lovers' quarrels that reveal what a terrible civil war canrage within the heart that rebels against itself. I know the very spotwhere we quarrelled; I could point to the miles of way we walked side byside without a word; and oh! was it not on that very bed I have passed thenight sobbing till I thought my heart would break, all because I had notfallen at her feet and begged her forgiveness ere we parted? Not that shewas without her self-accusings too; for I remember one way in which sheexpressed sorrow for having done me wrong was to send me a shower ofrose-leaves from her little terraced garden; and as they fell in shoalsacross my window, what a balm and bliss they shed over my heart! Would Inot give every hope I have to bring it all back again? to live it over oncemore--to lie at her feet in the grass, affecting to read to her, butreally watching her long black lashes as they rested on her cheek, or thatquivering lip as it trembled with emotion. How I used to detest that workwhich employed the blue-veined hand I loved to hold within my own, kissingit at every pause in the reading, or whenever I could pretext a reason toquestion her! And now, here I am in the self-same place, amidst the samescenes and objects. Nothing changed but _herself_! She, however, willremember nothing of the past, or if she does, it is with repugnance andregret; her manner to me is a sort of cold defiance, not to dare to reviveour old intimacy, nor to fancy that I can take up our acquaintanceship fromthe past. I almost fancied she looked resentfully at the Greek girl for thefreedom to which she admitted me--not but there was in the other's coquetrythe very stamp of that levity other women are so ready to take offence at;in fact, it constitutes amongst women exactly the same sort of outrage, thesame breach of honour and loyalty, as cheating at play does amongst men, and the offenders are as much socially outlawed in one case as in theother. I wonder, am I what is called falling in love with the Greek--thatis, I wonder, have the charms of her astonishing beauty and the grace ofher manner, and the thousand seductions of her voice, her gestures, andher walk, above all, so captivated me that I do not want to go back on thepast, and may hope soon to repay Miss Kate Kearney by an indifference theequal of her own? I don't think so. Indeed, I feel that even when Ninawas interesting me most, I was stealing secret glances towards Kate, andcursing that fellow Walpole for the way he was engaging her attention. Little the Greek suspected, when she asked if "I could not fix a quarrel onhim, " with what a motive it was that my heart jumped at the suggestion! Heis so studiously ceremonious and distant with me; he seems to think I amnot one of those to be admitted to closer intimacy. I know that Englishtheory of "the unsafe man, " by which people of unquestionable courage avoidcontact with all schooled to other ways and habits than their own. I hateit. "I am unsafe, " to his thinking. Well, if having no reason to care forsafety be sufficient, he is not far wrong. Dick Kearney, too, is not verycordial. He scarcely seconded his father's invitation to me, and what hedid say was merely what courtesy obliged. So that in reality, though theold lord was hearty and good-natured, I believe I am here now becauseMademoiselle Nina commanded me, rather than from any other reason. Ifthis be true, it is, to say the least, a sorry compliment to my senseof delicacy. Her words were, "You shall stay, " and it is upon this I amstaying. '

As though the air of the room grew more hard to breathe with this thoughtbefore him, he arose and leaned half-way out of the window. 

As he did so, his ear caught the sound of voices. It was Kate and Nina, whowere talking on the terrace above his head. 

'I declare, Nina, ' said Kate, 'you have stripped every leaf off my poorivy-geranium; there's nothing left of it but bare branches. '

'There goes the last handful, ' said the other, as she threw them over theparapet, some falling on Gorman as he leaned out. 'It was a bad habit Ilearned from yourself, child. I remember when I came here, you used to dothis each night, like a religious rite. '

'I suppose they were the dried or withered leaves that I threw away, ' saidKate, with a half-irritation in her voice. 

'No, they were not. They were oftentimes from your prettiest roses, andas I watched you, I saw it was in no distraction or inadvertence you weredoing this, for you were generally silent and thoughtful some time before, and there was even an air of sadness about you, as though a painful thoughtwas bringing its gloomy memories. '

'What an object of interest I have been to you without suspecting it, ' saidKate coldly. 

'It is true, ' said the other, in the same tone; 'they who make fewconfidences suggest much ingenuity. If you had a meaning in this act andtold me what it was, it is more than likely I had forgotten all about itere now. You preferred secrecy, and you made me curious. '

'There was nothing to reward curiosity, ' said she, in the same measuredtone; then, after a moment, she added, 'I'm sure I never sought to ascribesome hidden motive to _you_. When _you_ left my plants leafless, I wasquite content to believe that you were mischievous without knowing it. '

'I read you differently, ' said Nina. 'When _you_ do mischief you meanmischief. Now I became so--so--what shall I call it, _intriguée_ about thislittle "fetish" of yours, that I remember well the night you first left offand never resumed it. '

'And when was that?' asked Kate carelessly. 

'On a certain Friday, the night Miss O'Shea dined here last; was it not aFriday?'

'Fridays, we fancy, are unlucky days, ' said Kate, in a voice of easyindifference. 

'I wonder which are the lucky ones?' said Nina, sighing. 'They arecertainly not put down in the Irish almanac. By the way, is not this aFriday?'

'Mr. O'Shea will not call it amongst his unlucky days, ' said Katelaughingly. 

'I almost think I like your Austrian, ' said the other. 

'Only don't call him _my_ Austrian. '

'Well, he was yours till you threw him off. No, don't be angry: I am onlytalking in that careless slang we all use when we mean nothing, just aspeople employ counters instead of money at cards; but I like him: he hasthat easy flippancy in talk that asks for no effort to follow, and he sayshis little nothings nicely, and he is not too eager as to great ones, ortoo energetic, which you all are here. I like him. '

'I fancied you liked the eager and enthusiastic people, and that you felt awarm interest in Donogan's fate. '

'Yes, I do hope they'll not catch him. It would be too horrid to think ofany one we had known being hanged! And then, poor fellow, he was very muchin love. '

'Poor fellow!' sighed out Kate. 

'Not but it was the only gleam of sunlight in his existence; he could goaway and fancy that, with Heaven knows what chances of fortune, he mighthave won me. '

'Poor fellow!' cried Kate, more sorrowfully than before. 

'No, far from it, but very "happy fellow" if he could feed his heart withsuch a delusion. '

'And you think it fair to let him have this delusion?'

'Of course I do. I'd no more rob him of it than I'd snatch a life-buoy froma drowning man. Do you fancy, child, that the swimmer will always go aboutwith the corks that have saved his life?'

'These mock analogies are sorry arguments, ' said Kate. 

'Tell me, does your Austrian sing? I see he understands music, but I hopehe can sing. '

'I can tell you next to nothing of my Austrian--if he must be called so. Itis five years since we met, and all I know is how little like he seems towhat he once was. '

'I'm sure he is vastly improved: a hundred times better mannered; with moreease, more quickness, and more readiness in conversation. I like him. '

'I trust he'll find out his great good-fortune--that is, if it be not adelusion. '

For a few seconds there was a silence--a silence so complete that Gormancould hear the rustle of a dress as Nina moved from her place, and seatedherself on the battlement of the terrace. He then could catch the lowmurmuring sounds of her voice, as she hummed an air to herself, and atlength traced it to be the song she had sung that same evening in thedrawing-room. The notes came gradually more and more distinct, the tonesswelled out into greater fulness, and at last, with one long-sustainedcadence of thrilling passion, she cried, '_Non mi amava--non mi amava!_'with an expression of heart-breaking sorrow, the last syllables seeming tolinger on the lips as if a hope was deserting them for ever. '_Oh, non miamava!_' cried she, and her voice trembled as though the avowal of herdespair was the last effort of her strength. Slowly and faintly the soundsdied away, while Gorman, leaning out to the utmost to catch the dyingnotes, strained his hearing to drink them in. All was still, and thensuddenly, with a wild roulade that sounded at first like the passage ofa musical scale, she burst out into a fit of laughter, crying '_Non miamava, _' through the sounds, in a half-frantic mockery. '_No, no, non miamava, _' laughed she out, as she walked back into the room. The window wasnow closed with a heavy bang, and all was silent in the house. 

'And these are the affections we break our hearts for!' cried Gorman, as hethrew himself on his bed, and covered his face with both his hands. 

CHAPTER XLIV

THE HEAD CONSTABLE

The Inspector, or, to use the irreverent designation of the neighbourhood, the Head Peeler, who had carried away Walpole's luggage and papers, nosooner discovered the grave mistake he had committed, than he hastened torestore them, and was waiting personally at Kilgobbin Castle to apologisefor the blunder, long before any of the family had come downstairs. Hisindiscretion might cost him his place, and Captain Curtis, who had tomaintain a wife and family, three saddle-horses, and a green uniform withmore gold on it than a field-marshal's, felt duly anxious and uneasy forwhat he had done. 

'Who is that gone down the road?' asked he, as he stood at the window, while a woman was setting the room in order. 

'Sure it's Miss Kate taking the dogs out. Isn't she always the first up ofa morning?' Though the captain had little personal acquaintance with MissKearney, he knew her well by reputation, and knew therefore that he mightsafely approach her to ask a favour. He overtook her at once, and in a fewwords made known the difficulty in which he found himself. 

'Is it not after all a mere passing mistake, which once apologised for isforgotten altogether?' asked she. 'Mr. Walpole is surely not a person tobear any malice for such an incident?'

'I don't know that, Miss Kearney, ' said he doubtingly. 'His papers havebeen thoroughly ransacked, and old Mr. Flood, the Tory magistrate, hastaken copies of several letters and documents, all of course under theimpression that they formed part of a treasonable correspondence. '

'Was it not very evident that the papers could not have belonged to aFenian leader? Was not any mistake in the matter easily avoided?'

[Illustration: Nina came forward at that moment]

'Not at once, because there was first of all a sort of account of theinsurrectionary movement here, with a number of queries, such as, "Who isM----?" "Are F. Y---- and McCausland the same person?" "What connectionexists between the Meath outrages and the late events in Tipperary?""How is B---- to explain his conduct sufficiently to be retained in theCommission of the Peace?" In a word, Miss Kearney, all the troublesomedetails by which a Ministry have to keep their own supporters in decentorder, are here hinted at, if not more, and it lies with a batch of red-hotTories to make a terrible scandal out of this affair. '

'It is graver than I suspected, ' said she thoughtfully. 

'And I may lose my place, ' muttered Curtis, 'unless, indeed, you wouldcondescend to say a word for me to Mr. Walpole. '

'Willingly, if it were of any use, but I think my cousin, MademoiselleKostalergi, would be likelier of success, and here she comes. '

Nina came forward at that moment, with that indolent grace of movement withwhich she swept the greensward of the lawn as though it were the carpet ofa saloon. With a brief introduction of Mr. Curtis, her cousin Kate, in afew words, conveyed the embarrassment of his present position, and his hopethat a kindly intercession might avert his danger. 

'What droll people you must be not to find out that the letters of aViceroy's secretary could not be the correspondence of a rebel leader, 'said Nina superciliously. 

'I have already told Miss Kearney how that fell out, ' said he; 'and Iassure you there was enough in those papers to mystify better and clearerheads. '

'But you read the addresses, and saw how the letters began, "My dear Mr. Walpole, " or "Dear Walpole"?'

'And thought they had been purloined. Have I not found "Dear Clarendon"often enough in the same packet with cross-bones and a coffin. '

'What a country!' said Nina, with a sigh. 

'Very like Greece, I suppose, ' said Kate tartly; then, suddenly, 'Will youundertake to make this gentleman's peace with Mr. Walpole, and show how thewhole was a piece of ill-directed zeal?'

'Indiscreet zeal. '

'Well, indiscreet, if you like it better. '

'And you fancied, then, that all the fine linen and purple you carried awaywere the properties of a head-centre?'

'We thought so. '

'And the silver objects of the dressing-table, and the ivory inlaid withgold, and the trifles studded with turquoise?'

'They might have been Donogan's. Do you know, mademoiselle, that this sameDonogan was a man of fortune, and in all the society of the first men atOxford when--a mere boy at the time--he became a rebel?'

'How nice of him! What a fine fellow!'

'I'd say what a fool!' continued Curtis. 'He had no need to risk his neckto achieve a station, the thing was done for him. He had a good house and agood estate in Kilkenny; I have caught salmon in the river that washes thefoot of his lawn. '

'And what has become of it; does he still own it?'

'Not an acre--not a rood of it; sold every square yard of it to throwthe money into the Fenian treasury. Rifled artillery, Colt's revolvers, Remington's, and Parrot guns have walked off with the broad acres. '

'Fine fellow--a fine fellow!' cried Nina enthusiastically. 

'That fine fellow has done a deal of mischief, ' said Kate thoughtfully. 

'He has escaped, has he not?' asked Nina. 

'We hope not--that is, we know that he is about to sail for St. John's bya clipper now in Belfast, and we shall have a fast steam-corvette ready tocatch her in the Channel. He'll be under Yankee colours, it is true, andclaim an American citizenship; but we must run risks sometimes, and this isone of those times. '

'But you know where he is now? Why not apprehend him on shore?'

'The very thing we do not know, mademoiselle. I'd rather be sure of itthan have five thousand pounds in my hand. Some say he is here, in theneighbourhood; some that he is gone south; others declare that he hasreached Liverpool. All we really do know is about the ship that he means tosail in, and on which the second mate has informed us. '

'And all your boasted activity is at fault, ' said she insolently, 'when youhave to own you cannot track him. '

'Nor is it so easy, mademoiselle, where a whole population befriend andfeel for him. '

'And if they do, with what face can you persecute what has the entiresympathy of a nation?'

'Don't provoke answers which are sure not to satisfy you, and which youcould but half comprehend; but tell Mr. Curtis you will use your influenceto make Mr. Walpole forget this mishap. '

'But I do want to go to the bottom of this question. I will insist onlearning why people rebel here. '

'In that case, I'll go home to breakfast, and I'll be quite satisfied if Isee you at luncheon, ' said Kate. 

'Do, pray, Mr. Curtis, tell me all about it. Why do some people shoot theothers who are just as much Irish as themselves? Why do hungry people killthe cattle and never eat them? And why don't the English go away and leavea country where nobody likes them? If there be a reason for these things, let me hear it. '

'Bye-bye, ' said Kate, waving her hand, as she turned away. 

'You are so ungenerous, ' cried Nina, hurrying after her; 'I am a stranger, and would naturally like to learn all that I could of the country and thepeople; here is a gentleman full of the very knowledge I am seeking. Heknows all about these terrible Fenians. What will they do with Donogan ifthey take him?'

'Transport him for life; they'll not hang him, I think. '

'That's worse than hanging. I mean--that is--Miss Kearney would ratherthey'd hang him. '

'I have not said so, ' replied Kate, 'and I don't suspect I think so, either. '

'Well, ' said Nina, after a pause, 'let us go back to breakfast. You'll seeMr. Walpole--he's sure to be down by that time; and I'll tell him what youwish is, that he must not think any more of the incident; that it was apiece of official stupidity, done, of course, out of the best motives; andthat if he should cut a ridiculous figure at the end, he has only himselfto blame for the worse than ambiguity of his private papers. '

'I do not know that I 'd exactly say that, ' said Kate, who felt somedifficulty in not laughing at the horror-struck expression of Mr. Curtis'sface. 

'Well, then, I'll say--this was what I wished to tell you, but my cousinKate interposed and suggested that a little adroit flattery of you, andsome small coquetries that might make you believe you were charming, wouldbe the readiest mode to make you forget anything disagreeable, and shewould charge herself with the task. '

'Do so, ' said Kate calmly; 'and let us now go back to breakfast. '

CHAPTER XLV

SOME IRISHRIES

That which the English irreverently call 'chaff' enters largely as anelement into Irish life; and when Walpole stigmatised the habit to JoeAtlee as essentially that of the smaller island, he was not far wrong. Iwill not say that it is a high order of wit--very elegant, or very refined;but it is a strong incentive to good-humour--a vent to good spirits; andbeing a weapon which every Irishman can wield in some fashion or other, establishes that sort of joust which prevailed in the mêlée tournaments, and where each tilted with whom he pleased. 

Any one who has witnessed the progress of an Irish trial, even when thecrime was of the very gravest, cannot fail to have been struck by thecontinual clash of smart remark and smarter rejoinder between the Benchand the Bar; showing how men feel the necessity of ready-wittedness, and apromptitude to repel attack, in which even the prisoner in the dock takeshis share, and cuts his joke at the most critical moment of his existence. 

The Irish theatre always exhibits traits of this national taste; but adinner-party, with its due infusion of barristers, is the best possibleexemplification of this give and take, which, even if it had no highermerit, is a powerful ally of good-humour, and the sworn foe to everythinglike over-irritability or morbid self-esteem. Indeed, I could not wish avery conceited man, of a somewhat grave temperament and distant demeanour, a much heavier punishment than a course of Irish dinner-parties; for eventhough he should come out scathless himself, the outrages to his senseof propriety, and the insults to his ideas of taste, would be a severesuffering. 

That breakfast-table at Kilgobbin had some heavy hearts around the board. There was not, with the exception of Walpole, one there who had not, in thedoubts that beset his future, grave cause for anxiety; and yet to look at, still more to listen to them, you would have said that Walpole alone hadany load of care upon his heart, and that the others were a light-hearted, happy set of people, with whom the world went always well. No cloud!--noteven a shadow to darken the road before them. Of this levity, for I supposeI must give it a hard name--the source of much that is best and worstamongst us--our English rulers take no account, and are often as ready tocharge us with a conviction, which was no more than a caprice, as they areto nail us down to some determination, which was simply a drollery; anduntil some intelligent traveller does for us what I lately perceived aclever tourist did for the Japanese, in explaining their modes of thought, impulses, and passions to the English, I despair of our being better knownin Downing Street than we now are. 

Captain Curtis--for it is right to give him his rank--was fearfully nervousand uneasy, and though he tried to eat his breakfast with an air ofunconcern and carelessness, he broke his egg with a tremulous hand, andlistened with painful eagerness every time Walpole spoke. 

'I wish somebody would send us the _Standard_; when it is known that theLord-Lieutenant's secretary has turned Fenian, ' said Kilgobbin, 'won'tthere be a grand Tory out-cry over the unprincipled Whigs?'

'The papers need know nothing whatever of the incident, ' interposed Curtisanxiously, 'if old Flood is not busy enough to inform them. '

'Who is old Flood?' asked Walpole. 

'A Tory J. P. , who has copied out a considerable share of yourcorrespondence, ' said Kilgobbin. 

'And four letters in a lady's hand, ' added Dick, 'that he imagines to be atreasonable correspondence by symbol. '

'I hope Mr. Walpole, ' said Kate, 'will rather accept felony to the law thanfalsehood to the lady. '

'You don't mean to say--' began Walpole angrily; then correcting hisirritable manner, he added, 'Am I to suppose my letters have been read?'

'Well, roughly looked through, ' said Curtis. 'Just a glance here and thereto catch what they meant. '

'Which I must say was quite unnecessary, ' said Walpole haughtily. 

'It was a sort of journal of yours, ' blundered out Curtis, who had a mostunhappy knack of committing himself, 'that they opened first, and they sawan entry with Kilgobbin Castle at the top of it, and the date last July. '

'There was nothing political in that, I'm sure, ' said Walpole. 

'No, not exactly, but a trifle rebellious, all the same; the words, "Wethis evening learned a Fenian song, 'The time to begin, ' and rather suspectit is time to leave off; the Greek better-looking than ever, and moredangerous. "'

Curtis's last words were drowned in the laugh that now shook the table;indeed, except Walpole and Nina herself, they actually roared withlaughter, which burst out afresh, as Curtis, in his innocence, said, 'Wecould not make out about the Greek, but we hoped we'd find out later on. '

'And I fervently trust you did, ' said Kilgobbin. 

'I'm afraid not; there was something about somebody called Joe, that theGreek wouldn't have him, or disliked him, or snubbed him--indeed, I forgetthe words. '

'You are quite right, sir, to distrust your memory, ' said Walpole; 'it hasbetrayed you most egregiously already. '

'On the contrary, ' burst in Kilgobbin, 'I am delighted with this proof ofthe captain's acuteness; tell us something more, Curtis. '

'There was then, "From the upper castle yard, Maude, " whoever Maude is, "says, 'Deny it all, and say you never were there, ' not so easy as shethinks, with a broken right arm, and a heart not quite so whole as it oughtto be. "'

'There, sir--with the permission of my friends here--I will ask you toconclude your reminiscences of my private papers, which can have nopossible interest for any one but myself. '

'Quite wrong in that, ' cried Kilgobbin, wiping his eyes, which had run overwith laughter. 'There's nothing I'd like so much as to hear more of them. '

'What was that about his heart?' whispered Curtis to Kate; 'was he woundedin the side also?'

'I believe so, ' said she dryly; 'but I believe he has got quite over it bythis time. '

'Will you say a word or two about me, Miss Kearney?' whispered he again;'I'm not sure I improved my case by talking so freely; but as I saw you allso outspoken, I thought I'd fall into your ways. '

'Captain Curtis is much concerned for any fault he may have committed inthis unhappy business, ' said Kate, 'and he trusts that the agitation andexcitement of the Donogan escape will excuse him. '

'That's your policy now, ' interposed Kilgobbin. 'Catch the Fenian fellow, and nobody will remember the other incident. '

'We mean to give out that we know he has got clear away to America, ' saidCurtis, with an air of intense cunning. 'And to lull his suspicions, wehave notices in print to say that no further rewards are to be given forhis apprehension; so that he'll get a false confidence, and move about asbefore. '

'With such acuteness as yours on his trail, his arrest is certain, ' saidWalpole gravely. 

'Well, I hope so, too, ' said Curtis, in good faith for the compliment. 'Didn't I take up nine men for the search of arms here, though there wereonly five? One of them turned evidence, ' added he gravely;' he was thefellow that swore Miss Kearney stood between you and the fire after theywounded you. '

'You are determined to make Mr. Walpole your friend, ' whispered Nina in hisear; 'don't you see, sir, that you are ruining yourself?'

'I have often been puzzled to explain how it was that crime went unpunishedin Ireland, ' said Walpole sententiously. 

'And you know now?' asked Curtis. 

'Yes; in a great measure, you have supplied me with the information. '

'I believe it's all right now, ' muttered the captain to Kate. 'If the swellowns that I have put him up to a thing or two, he'll not throw me over. '

'Would you give me three minutes of your time?' whispered Gorman O'Shea toLord Kilgobbin, as they arose from table. 

'Half an hour, my boy, or more if you want it. Come along with me now intomy study, and we'll be safe there from all interruption. '

CHAPTER XLVI

SAGE ADVICE

'So then you're in a hobble with your aunt, ' said Mr. Kearney, as hebelieved he had summed up the meaning of a very blundering explanation byGorman O'Shea; 'isn't that it?'

'Yes, sir; I suppose it comes to that. '

'The old story, I've no doubt, if we only knew it--as old as thePatriarchs: the young ones go into debt, and think it very hard that theelders dislike the paying it. '

'No, no; I have no debts--at least, none to speak of. '

'It's a woman, then? Have you gone and married some good-looking girl, withno fortune and less family? Who is she?'

'Not even that, sir, ' said he, half impatient at seeing how littleattention had been bestowed on his narrative. 

''Tis bad enough, no doubt, ' continued the old man, still in pursuit of hisown reflections; 'not but there's scores of things worse; for if a man is agood fellow at heart, he'll treat the woman all the better for what she hascost him. That is one of the good sides of selfishness; and when you havelived as long as me, Gorman, you'll find out how often there's somethinggood to be squeezed out of a bad quality, just as though it were a bit ofour nature that was depraved, but not gone to the devil entirely. '

'There is no woman in the case here, sir, ' said O'Shea bluntly, for thesespeculations only irritated him. 

'Ho, ho! I have it, then, ' cried the old man. 'You've been burning yourfingers with rebellion. It's the Fenians have got a hold of you. '

'Nothing of the kind, sir. If you'll just read these two letters. The oneis mine, written on the morning I came here: here is my aunt's. The firstis not word for word as I sent it, but as well as I can remember. At allevents, it will show how little I had provoked the answer. There, that'sthe document that came along with my trunks, and I have never heard fromher since. '

'"Dear Nephew, "' read out the old man, after patiently adjusting hisspectacles--'"O'Shea's Barn is not an inn, "--And more's the pity, ' addedhe; 'for it would be a model house of entertainment. You'd say any onecould have a sirloin of beef or a saddle of mutton; but where Miss Bettygets hers is quite beyond me. "Nor are the horses at public livery, "' readhe out. 'I think I may say, if they were, that Kattoo won't be hired outagain to the young man that took her over the fences. "As you seem fond ofwarnings, "' continued he, aloud--'Ho, ho! that's at _you_ for coming overhere to tell me about the search-warrant; and she tells you to mind yourown business; and droll enough it is. We always fancy we're saying animpertinence to a man when we tell him to attend to what concerns him most. It shows, at least, that we think meddling a luxury. And then she adds, "Kilgobbin is welcome to you, " and I can only say you are welcome toKilgobbin--ay, and in her own words--"with such regularity and order as themeals succeed. "--"All the luggage belonging to you, " etc. , and "I am, veryrespectfully, your Aunt. " By my conscience, there was no need to sign it!That was old Miss Betty all the world over!' and he laughed till his eyesran over, though the rueful face of young O'Shea was staring at him all thetime. 'Don't look so gloomy, O'Shea, ' cried Kearney: 'I have not so good acook, nor, I'm sorry to say, so good a cellar, as at the Barn; but thereare young faces, and young voices, and young laughter, and a light stepon the stairs; and if I know anything, or rather, if I remember anything, these will warm a heart at your age better than '44 claret or the crustiestport that ever stained a decanter. '

'I am turned out, sir--sent adrift on the world, ' said the young mandespondently. 

'And it is not so bad a thing after all, take my word for it, boy. It's agreat advantage now and then to begin life as a vagabond. It takes a dealof snobbery out of a fellow to lie under a haystack, and there's no bettercure for pretension than a dinner of cold potatoes. Not that I say youneed the treatment--far from it--but our distinguished friend Mr. Walpolewouldn't be a bit the worse of such an alterative. '

'If I am left without a shilling in the world?'

'Then you must try what you can do on sixpence--the whole thing is how youbegin. I used not to be able to eat my dinner when I did not see the fellowin a white tie standing before the sideboard, and the two flunkeys in plushand silk stockings at either side of the table; and when I perceived thatthe decanters had taken their departure, and that it was beer I was givento drink, I felt as if I had dined, and was ready to go out and have asmoke in the open air; but a little time, even without any patience, butjust time, does it all. '

'Time won't teach a man to live upon nothing. '

'It would be very hard for him if it did; let him begin by having fewwants, and work hard to supply means for them. '

'Work hard! why, sir, if I laboured from daylight to dark, I'd not earn thewages of the humblest peasant, and I'd not know how to live on it. '

'Well, I have given you all the philosophy in my budget, and to tell youthe truth, Gorman, except so far as coming down in the world in spite ofmyself, I know mighty little about the fine precepts I have been givingyou; but this I know, you have a roof over your head here, and you'reheartily welcome to it; and who knows but your aunt may come to terms allthe sooner, because she sees you here?'

'You are very generous to me, and I feel it deeply, ' said the young man;but he was almost choked with the words. 

'You have told me already, Gorman, that your aunt gave you no other reasonagainst coming here than that I had not been to call on you; and I believeyou--believe you thoroughly; but tell me now, with the same frankness, wasthere nothing passing in your mind--had you no suspicions or misgivings, orsomething of the same kind, to keep you away? Be candid with me now, andspeak it out freely. '

'None, on my honour; I was sorely grieved to be told I must not come, andthought very often of rebelling, so that indeed, when I did rebel, I was ina measure prepared for the penalty, though scarcely so heavy as this. '

'Don't take it to heart. It will come right yet--everything comes rightif we give it time--and there's plenty of time to the fellow who is notfive-and-twenty. It's only the old dogs, like myself, who are always doingtheir match against time, are in a hobble. To feel that every minute of theclock is something very like three weeks of the almanac, flurries a man, when he wants to be cool and collected. Put your hat on a peg, and makeyour home here. If you want to be of use, Kitty will show you scores ofthings to do about the garden, and we never object to see a brace of snipeat the end of dinner, though there's nobody cares to shoot them; and thebog trout--for all their dark colour--are excellent catch, and I know youcan throw a line. All I say is, do something, and something that takes youinto the open air. Don't get to lying about in easy-chairs and readingnovels; don't get to singing duets and philandering about with the girls. May I never, if I'd not rather find a brandy-flask in your pocket thanTennyson's poems!'

CHAPTER XLVII

REPROOF

'Say it out frankly, Kate, ' cried Nina, as with flashing eyes andheightened colour she paced the drawing-room from end to end, with thatbold sweeping stride which in moments of passion betrayed her. 'Say it out. I know perfectly what you are hinting at. '

'I never hint, ' said the other gravely; 'least of all with those I love. '

'So much the better. I detest an equivoque. If I am to be shot, let me lookthe fire in the face. '

'There is no question of shooting at all. I think you are very angry fornothing. '

'Angry for nothing! Do you call that studied coldness you haveobserved towards me all day yesterday nothing? Is your ceremoniousmanner--exquisitely polite, I will not deny--is that nothing? Is yourchilling salute when we met--I half believe you curtsied--nothing? That youshun me, that you take pains not to keep my company, never to be with mealone is past denial. '

'And I do not deny it, ' said Kate, with a voice of calm and quiet meaning. 

'At last, then, I have the avowal. You own that you love me no longer. '

'No, I own nothing of the kind: I love you very dearly; but I see thatour ideas of life are so totally unlike, that unless one should bend andconform to the other, we cannot blend our thoughts in that harmony whichperfect confidence requires. You are so much above me in many things, so much more cultivated and gifted--I was going to say civilised, and Ibelieve I might--'

'Ta--ta--ta, ' cried Nina impatiently. 'These flatteries are veryill-timed. '

'So they would be, if they were flatteries; but if you had patience to hearme out, you'd have learned that I meant a higher flattery for myself. '

'Don't I know it? don't I guess?' cried the Greek. 'Have not your downcasteyes told it? and that look of sweet humility that says, "At least I am nota flirt?"'

'Nor am I, ' said Kate coldly. 

'And I am! Come now, do confess. You want to say it. '

'With all my heart I wish you were not!' And Kate's eyes swam as she spoke. 

'And what if I tell you that I know it--that in the very employment ofthe arts of what you call coquetry, I am but exercising those powers ofpleasing by which men are led to frequent the salon instead of the café, and like the society of the cultivated and refined better than--'

'No, no, no!' burst in Kate. 'There is no such mock principle in the case. You are a flirt because you like the homage it secures you, and because, as you do not believe in such a thing as an honest affection, you have noscruple about trifling with a man's heart. '

'So much for captivating that bold hussar, ' cried Nina. 

'For the moment I was not thinking of him. '

'Of whom, then?'

'Of that poor Captain Curtis, who has just ridden away. '

'Oh, indeed!'

'Yes. He has a pretty wife and three nice little girls, and they arethe happiest people in the world. They love each other, and love theirhome--so, at least, I am told, for I scarcely know them myself. '

'And what have I done with _him_?'

'Sent him away sad and doubtful--very doubtful if the happiness he believedin was the real article after all, and disposed to ask himself how it wasthat his heart was beating in a new fashion, and that some new sense hadbeen added to his nature, of which he had no inkling before. Sent him awaywith the notes of a melody floating through his brain, so that the merrylaugh of his children will be a discord, and such a memory of a softglance, that his wife's bright look will be meaningless. '

'And I have done all this? Poor me!'

'Yes, and done it so often, that it leaves no remorse behind it. '

'And the same, I suppose, with the others?'

'With Mr. Walpole, and Dick, and Mr. O'Shea, and Mr. Atlee too, when he washere, in their several ways. '

'Oh, in theirs, not in mine, then?'

'I am but a bungler in my explanation. I wished to say that you adaptedyour fascinations to the tastes of each. '

'What a siren!'

'Well, yes--what a siren; for they're all in love in some fashion or other;but I could have forgiven you these, had you spared the married man. '

'So you actually envy that poor prisoner the gleam of light and the breathof cold air that comes between his prison bars--that one moment of ecstasythat reminds him how he once was free and at large, and no manacles toweigh him down? You will not let him even touch bliss in imagination? Are_you_ not more cruel than _me_?'

'This is mere nonsense, ' said Kate boldly. 'You either believe that man wasfooling _you_, or that you have sent him away unhappy? Take which of theseyou like. '

'Can't your rustic nature see that there is a third case, quite differentfrom both, and that Harry Curtis went off believing--'

'Was he Harry Curtis?' broke in Kate. 

'He was dear Harry when I said good-bye, ' said Nina calmly. 

'Oh, then, I give up everything--I throw up my brief. '

'So you ought, for you have lost your cause long ago. '

'Even that poor Donogan was not spared, and Heaven knows he had troublesenough on his head to have pleaded some pity for him. '

'And is there no kind word to say of _me_, Kate?'

'O Nina, how ashamed you make me of my violence, when I dare to blame you!but if I did not love you so dearly, I could better bear you should have afault. '

'I have only one, then?'

'I know of no great one but this. I mean, I know of none that endangersgood-nature and right feeling. '

'And are you so sure that this does? Are you so sure that what you arefaulting is not the manner and the way of a world you have not seen? thatall these levities, as you would call them, are not the ordinary wear ofpeople whose lives are passed where there is more tolerance and less pain?'

'Be serious, Nina, for a moment, and own that it was by intention you werein the approach when Captain Curtis rode away: that you said something tohim, or looked something--perhaps both--on which he got down from his horseand walked beside you for full a mile?'

'All true, ' said Nina calmly. 'I confess to every part of it. '

'I'd far rather that you said you were sorry for it. '

'But I am not; I'm very glad--I'm very proud of it. 

Yes, look as reproachfully as you like, Kate! "very proud" was what Isaid. '

'Then I am indeed sorry, ' said Kate, growing pale as she spoke. 

'I don't think, after all this sharp lecturing of me, that you deservemuch of my confidence, and if I make you any, Kate, it is not by wayof exculpation; for I do not accept your blame; it is simply out ofcaprice--mind that, and that I am not thinking of defending myself. '

'I can easily believe that, ' said Kate dryly. 

And the other continued: 'When Captain Curtis was talking to your father, and discussing the chances of capturing Donogan, he twice or thricementioned Harper and Fry--names which somehow seemed familiar to me; andon thinking the matter over when I went to my room, I opened Donogan'spocket-book and there found how these names had become known to me. Harperand Fry were tanners, in Cork Street, and theirs was one of the addressesby which, if I had occasion to warn Donogan, I could write to him. Onhearing these names from Curtis, it struck me that there might be treacherysomewhere. Was it that these men themselves had turned traitors to thecause? or had another betrayed them? Whichever way the matter went, Donoganwas evidently in great danger; for this was one of the places he regardedas perfectly safe. 

'What was to be done? I dared not ask advice on any side. To reveal thesuspicions which were tormenting me required that I should produce thispocket-book, and to whom could I impart this man's secret? I thought ofyour brother Dick, but he was from home, and even if he had not been, Idoubt if I should have told him. I should have come to you, Kate, but thatgrand rebukeful tone you had taken up this last twenty-four hours repelledme; and finally, I took counsel with myself. I set off just before CaptainCurtis started, to what you have called waylay him in the avenue. 

'Just below the beech-copse he came up; and then that small flirtation ofthe drawing-room, which has caused you so much anger and me such a sharplesson, stood me in good stead, and enabled me to arrest his progress bysome chance word or two, and at last so far to interest him that he gotdown and walked along at my side. I shall not shock you by recalling thelittle tender "nothings" that passed between us, nor dwell on the smallmockeries of sentiment which we exchanged--I hope very harmlessly--butproceed at once to what I felt my object. He was profuse of his gratitudefor what I had done for him with Walpole, and firmly believed that myintercession alone had saved him; and so I went on to say that the bestreparation he could make for his blunder would be some exercise ofwell-directed activity when occasion should offer. "Suppose, for instance, "said I, "you could capture this man Donogan?"

'"The very thing I hope to do, " cried he. "The train is laid already. Oneof my constables has a brother in a well-known house in Dublin, the membersof which, men of large wealth and good position, have long been suspectedof holding intercourse with the rebels. Through his brother, himself aFenian, this man has heard that a secret committee will meet at this placeon Monday evening next, at which Donogan will be present. Molloy, another head-centre, will also be there, and Cummings, who escaped fromCarrickfergus. " I took down all the names, Kate, the moment we parted, andwhile they were fresh in my memory. "We'll draw the net on them all, " saidhe; "and such a haul has not been made since '98. The rewards alone willamount to some thousands. " It was then I said, "And is there no danger, Harry? "'

'O Nina!'

'Yes, darling, it was very dreadful, and I felt it so; but somehow one iscarried away by a burst of feeling at certain moments, and the shame onlycomes too late. Of course it was wrong of me to call him Harry, and he, too, with a wife at home, and five little girls--or three, I forgetwhich--should never have sworn that he loved me, nor said all that madnonsense about what he felt in that region where chief constables havetheir hearts; but I own to great tenderness and a very touching sensibilityon either side. Indeed, I may add here, that the really sensitivenatures amongst men are never found under forty-five; but for genuine, uncalculating affection, for the sort of devotion that flings consequencesto the winds, I say, give me fifty-eight or sixty. '

'Nina, do not make me hate you, ' said Kate gravely. 

'Certainly not, dearest, if a little hypocrisy will avert such amisfortune. And so to return to my narrative, I learned, as accurately as agentleman so much in love could condescend to inform me, of all the stepstaken to secure Donogan at this meeting, or to capture him later on if heshould try to make his escape by sea. '

'You mean, then, to write to Donogan and apprise him of his danger?'

'It is done. I wrote the moment I got back here. I addressed him as Mr. James Bredin, care of Jonas Mullory, Esq. , 41 New Street, which was thefirst address in the list he gave me. I told him of the peril he ran, and what his friends were also threatened by, and I recounted the absurdseizure of Mr. Walpole's effects here; and, last of all, what a dangerousrival he had in this Captain Curtis, who was ready to desert wife, children, and the constabulary to-morrow for me; and assuring himconfidentially that I was well worth greater sacrifices of better men, Isigned my initials in Greek letters. '

'Marvellous caution and great discretion, ' said Kate solemnly. 

'And now come over to the drawing-room, where I have promised to sing forMr. O'Shea some little ballad that he dreamed over all the night through;and then there's something else--what is it? what is it?'

'How should I know, Nina? I was not present at your arrangement. '

'Never mind; I'll remember it presently. It will come to my recollectionwhile I'm singing that song. '

'If emotion is not too much for you. '

'Just so, Kate--sensibilities permitting; and, indeed, ' she said, ' Iremember it already. It was luncheon. '

CHAPTER XLVIII

HOW MEN IN OFFICE MAKE LOVE

'Is it true they have captured Donogan?' said Nina, coming hurriedly intothe library, where Walpole was busily engaged with his correspondence, andsat before a table covered not only with official documents, but a numberof printed placards and handbills. 

He looked up, surprised at her presence, and by the tone of familiarity inher question, for which he was in no way prepared, and for a second or twoactually stared at without answering her. 

'Can't you tell me? Are they correct in saying he has been caught?' criedshe impatiently. 

'Very far from it. There are the police returns up to last night fromMeath, Kildare, and Dublin; and though he was seen at Naas, passed somehours in Dublin, and actually attended a night meeting at Kells, all traceof him has been since lost, and he has completely baffled us. By theViceroy's orders, I am now doubling the reward for his apprehension, andam prepared to offer a free pardon to any who shall give information abouthim, who may not actually have committed a felony. '

'Is he so very dangerous, then?'

'Every man who is so daring is dangerous here. The people have a sort ofidolatry for reckless courage. It is not only that he has ventured tocome back to the country where his life is sacrificed to the law, but hedeclares openly he is ready to offer himself as a representative for anIrish county, and to test in his own person whether the English will havethe temerity to touch the man--the choice of the Irish people. '

'He is bold, ' said she resolutely. 

'And I trust he will pay for his boldness! Our law-officers are preparedto treat him as a felon, irrespective of all claim to his character as aMember of Parliament. '

'The danger will not deter him. '

'You think so?'

'I know it, ' was the calm reply. 

'Indeed, ' said he, bending a steady look at her. 'What opportunities, mightI ask, have you had to form this same opinion?'

'Are not the public papers full of him? Have we not an almost daily recordof his exploits? Do not your own rewards for his capture impart an almostfabulous value to his life?'

'His portrait, too, may lend some interest to his story, ' said he, witha half-sneering smile. 'They say this is very like him. ' And he handed aphotograph as he spoke. 

'This was done in New York, ' said she, turning to the back of the card, thebetter to hide an emotion she could not entirely repress. 

'Yes, done by a brother Fenian, long since in our pay. '

'How base all that sounds! how I detest such treachery!'

'How deal with treason without it? Is it like him?' asked he artlessly. 

'How should I know?' said she, in a slightly hurried tone. 'It is not likethe portrait in the _Illustrated News_. '

'I wonder which is the more like, ' added he thoughtfully, 'and I ferventlyhope we shall soon know. There is not a man he confides in who has notengaged to betray him. '

'I trust you feel proud of your achievement. '

'No, not proud, but very anxious for its success. The perils of thiscountry are too great for mere sensibilities. He who would extirpate aterrible disease must not fear the knife. '

'Not if he even kill the patient?' asked she. 

'That might happen, and would be to be deplored, ' said he, in the sameunmoved tone. 'But might I ask, whence has come all this interest for thiscause, and how have you learned so much sympathy with these people?'

'I read the newspapers, ' said she dryly. 

'You must read those of only one colour, then, ' said he slyly; 'or perhapsit is the tone of comment you hear about you. Are your sentiments such asyou daily listen to from Lord Kilgobbin and his family?'

'I don't know that they are. I suspect I'm more of a rebel than he is; butI'll ask him if you wish it. '

'On no account, I entreat you. It would compromise me seriously to hearsuch a discussion even in jest. Remember who I am, mademoiselle, and theoffice I hold. '

'Your great frankness, Mr. Walpole, makes me sometimes forget both, ' saidshe, with well-acted humility. 

'I wish it would do something more, ' said he eagerly. 'I wish it wouldinspire a little emulation, and make you deal as openly with _me_ as I longto do with _you_. '

'It might embarrass you very much, perhaps. '

'As how?' asked he, with a touch of tenderness in his voice. 

For a second or two she made no answer, and then, faltering at each word, she said, 'What if some rebel leader--this man Donogan, for instance--drawntowards you b some secret magic of trustfulness, moved by I know not whatneed of your sympathy--for there is such a craving void now and then feltin the heart--should tell you some secret thought of his nature--somethingthat he could utter alone to himself--would you bring yourself to use itagainst him? Could you turn round and say, "I have your inmost soul in mykeeping. You are mine now--mine--mine?"'

'Do I understand you aright?' said he earnestly. 'Is it just possible, evenpossible, that you have that to confide to me which would show that youregard me as a dear friend?'

'Oh! Mr. Walpole, ' burst she out passionately, 'do not by the greater powerof _your_ intellect seek the mastery over _mine_. Let the loneliness andisolation of my life here rather appeal to you to pity than suggest thethought of influencing and dominating me. '

'Would that I might. What would I not give or do to have that power thatyou speak of. '

'Is this true?' said she. 

'It is. '

'Will you swear it?'

'Most solemnly. '

She paused for a moment, and a slight tremor shook her mouth; but whetherthe motion expressed a sentiment of acute pain or a movement of repressedsarcasm, it was very difficult to determine. 

'What is it, then, that you would swear?' asked she calmly and even coldly. 

'Swear that I have no hope so high, no ambition so great, as to win yourheart. '

'Indeed! And that other heart that you have won--what is to become of it?'

'Its owner has recalled it. In fact, it was never in _my_ keeping but as aloan. '

'How strange! At least, how strange to me this sounds. I, in my ignorance, thought that people pledged their very lives in these bargains. '

'So it ought to be, and so it would be, if this world were not a web ofpetty interests and mean ambitions; and these, I grieve to say, will findtheir way into hearts that should be the home of very different sentiments. It was of this order was that compact with my cousin--for I will speakopenly to you, knowing it is her to whom you allude. We were to have beenmarried. It was an old engagement. Our friends--that is, I believe, theway to call them--liked it. They thought it a good thing for each of us. Indeed, making the dependants of a good family intermarry is an economy ofpatronage--the same plank rescues two from drowning. I believe--that is, Ifear--we accepted all this in the same spirit. We were to love each otheras much as we could, and our relations were to do their best for us. '

'And now it is all over?'

'All--and for ever. '

'How came this about?'

'At first by a jealousy about _you_. '

'A jealousy about _me_! You surely never dared--' and here her voicetrembled with real passion, while her eyes flashed angrily. 

'No, no. I am guiltless in the matter. It was that cur Atlee made themischief. In a moment of weak trustfulness, I sent him over to Wales toassist my uncle in his correspondence. He, of course, got to knowLady Maude Bickerstaffe--by what arts he ingratiated himself into herconfidence, I cannot say. Indeed, I had trusted that the fellow's vulgaritywould form an impassable barrier between them, and prevent all intimacy;but, apparently, I was wrong. He seems to have been the companion of herrides and drives, and under the pretext of doing some commissions for herin the bazaars of Constantinople, he got to correspond with her. So artfula fellow would well know what to make of such a privilege. '

'And is he your successor now?' asked she, with a look of almostundisguised insolence. 

'Scarcely that, ' said he, with a supercilious smile. 'I think, if you hadever seen my cousin, you would scarcely have asked the question. '

'But I have seen her. I saw her at the Odescalchi Palace at Rome. Iremember the stare she was pleased to bestow on me as she swept past me. I remember more, her words as she asked, "Is this your Titian Girl I haveheard so much of?"'

'And may hear more of, ' muttered he, almost unconsciously. 

'Yes--even that too; but not, perhaps, in the sense you mean. ' Then, as ifcorrecting herself, she went on, 'It was a bold ambition of Mr. Atlee. Imust say I like the very daring of it. '

'_He_ never dared it--take my word for it. '

An insolent laugh was her first reply. 'How little you men know of eachother, and how less than little you know of us! You sneer at the people whoare moved by sudden impulse, but you forget it is the squall upsets theboat. '

'I believe I can follow what you mean. You would imply that my cousin'sbreach with _me_ might have impelled her to listen to Atlee?'

'Not so much that as, by establishing himself as her confidant, he got thekey of her heart, and let himself in as he pleased. '

'I suspect he found little to interest him there. '

'The insufferable insolence of that speech! Can you men never be brought tosee that we are not all alike to each of you; that our natures have theirseparate watchwords, and that the soul which would vibrate with tendernessto this, is to that a dead and senseless thing, with no trace or touch offeeling about it?'

'I only believe this in part. '

'Believe it wholly, then, or own that you know nothing of love--no morethan do those countless thousands who go through life and never taste itsreal ecstasy, nor its real sorrow; who accept convenience, or caprice, orflattered vanity as its counterfeit, and live out the delusion in lives ofdiscontent. You have done wrong to break with your cousin. It is clear tome you suited each other. '

'This is sarcasm. '

'If it is, I am sorry for it. I meant it for sincerity. In _your_ career, ambition is everything. The woman that could aid you on your road would bethe real helpmate. She who would simply cross your path by her sympathies, or her affections, would be a mere embarrassment. Take the very case beforeus. Would not Lady Maude point out to you how, by the capture of thisrebel, you might so aid your friends as to establish a claim forrecompense? Would she not impress you with the necessity of showing howyour activity redounded to the credit of your party? She would neitherinterpose with ill-timed appeals to your pity or a misplaced sympathy. _She_ would help the politician, while another might hamper the man. '

'All that might be true, if the game of political life were played as itseems to be on the surface, and my cousin was exactly the sort of woman touse ordinary faculties with ability and acuteness; but there are scores ofthings in which her interference would have been hurtful, and her secrecydubious. I will give you an instance, and it will serve to show my implicitconfidence in yourself. Now with respect to this man, Donogan, there isnothing we wish less than to take him. To capture means to try--to trymeans to hang him--and how much better, or safer, or stronger are we whenit is done? These fellows, right or wrong, represent opinions that arenever controverted by the scaffold, and every man who dies for hisconvictions leaves a thousand disciples who never believed in him before. It is only because he braves us that we pursue him, and in the face of ouropponents and Parliament we cannot do less. So that while we are offeringlarge rewards for his apprehension, we would willingly give double the sumto know he had escaped. Talk of the supremacy of the Law--the more youassert that here, the more ungovernable is this country by a Party. Anactive Attorney-General is another word for three more regiments inIreland. '

'I follow you with some difficulty; but I see that you would like this manto get away, and how is that to be done?'

'Easily enough, when once he knows that it will be safe for him to gonorth. He naturally fears the Orangemen of the northern counties. Theywill, however, do nothing without the police, and the police have got theirorders throughout Antrim and Derry. Here--on this strip of paper--here arethe secret instructions:--"To George Dargan, Chief Constable, LetterkennyDistrict. Private and confidential. --It is, for many reasons, expedientthat the convict Donogan, on a proper understanding that he will not returnto Ireland, should be suffered to escape. If you are, therefore, in aposition to extort a pledge from him to this extent--and it should beexplicit and beyond all cavil--you will, taking due care not to compromiseyour authority in your office, aid him to leave the country, even to theextent of moneyed assistance. " To this are appended directions how he is toproceed to carry out these instructions: what he may, and what he may notdo, with whom he may seek for co-operation, and where he is to maintain aguarded and careful secrecy. Now, in telling you all this, MademoiselleKostalergi, I have given you the strongest assurance in my power of theunlimited trust I have in you. I see how the questions that agitate thiscountry interest you. I read the eagerness with which you watch them, butI want you to see more. I want you to see that the men who purpose tothemselves the great task of extricating Ireland from her difficulties mustbe politicians in the highest sense of the word, and that you should seein us statesmen of an order that can weigh human passions and humanemotions--and see that hope and fear, and terror and gratitude, sway thehearts of men who, to less observant eyes, seem to have no place in theirnatures but for rebellion. That this mode of governing Ireland is the onecharm to the Celtic heart, all the Tory rule of the last fifty years, with its hangings and banishments and other terrible blunders, will soonconvince you. The Priest alone has felt the pulse of this people, andwe are the only Ministers of England who have taken the Priest into ourconfidence. I own to you I claim some credit for myself in this discovery. It was in long reflecting over the ills of Ireland that I came to seethat where the malady has so much in its nature that is sensational andemotional, so must the remedy be sensational too. The Tories were ever benton extirpating--_we_ devote ourselves to "healing measures. " Do you followme?'

'I do, ' said she thoughtfully. 

'Do I interest you?' asked he, more tenderly. 

'Intensely, ' was the reply. 

'Oh, if I could but think _that_. If I could bring myself to believe thatthe day would come, not only to secure your interest, but your aid and yourassistance in this great task! I have long sought the opportunity to tellyou that we, who hold the destinies of a people in our keeping, are notinferior to our great trust, that we are not mere creatures of a statedepartment, small deities of the Olympus of office, but actual statesmenand rulers. Fortune has given me the wished-for moment, let it completemy happiness, let it tell me that you see in this noble work one worthyof your genius and your generosity, and that you would accept me as afellow-labourer in the cause. '

The fervour which he threw into the utterance of these words contrastedstrongly and strangely with the words themselves; so unlike the declarationof a lover's passion. 

'I do--not--know, ' said she falteringly. 

'What is that you do not know?' asked he, with tender eagerness. 

'I do not know if I understand you aright, and I do not know what answer Ishould give you. '

'Will not your heart tell you?'

She shook her head. 

'You will not crush me with the thought that there is no pleading for methere. '

'If you had desired in honesty my regard, you should not have prejudicedme: you began here by enlisting my sympathies in your Task; you told me ofyour ambitions. I like these ambitions. '

'Why not share them?' cried he passionately. 

'You seem to forget what you ask. A woman does not give her heart as aman joins a party or an administration. It is no question of an advantagebased upon a compromise. There is no sentiment of gratitude, or recompense, or reward in the gift. She simply gives that which is no longer hers toretain! She trusts to what her mind will not stop to question--she goeswhere she cannot help but follow. '

'How immeasurably greater your every word makes the prize of your love. '

'It is in no vanity that I say I know it, ' said she calmly. 'Let us speakno more on this now. '

'But you will not refuse to listen to me, Nina?'

'I will read you if you write to me, ' and with a wave of good-bye sheslowly left the room. 

'She is my master, even at my own game, ' said Walpole, as he sat down, andrested his head between his hands. 'Still she is mistaken: I can write justas vaguely as I can speak, and if I could not, it would have cost me myfreedom this many a day. With such a woman one might venture high, butHeaven help him when he ceased to climb the mountain!'

CHAPTER XLIX

A CUP OP TEA

It was so rare an event of late for Nina to seek her cousin in her ownroom, that Kate was somewhat surprised to see Nina enter with all her oldease of manner, and flinging away her hat carelessly, say, 'Let me have acup of tea, dearest, for I want to have a clear head and a calm mind for atleast the next half-hour. '

'It is almost time to dress for dinner, especially for you, Nina, who makea careful toilet. '

'Perhaps I shall make less to-day, perhaps not go down to dinner at all. Doyou know, child, I have every reason for agitation, and maidenbashfulness besides? Do you know I have had a proposal--a proposal in allform--from--but you shall guess whom. 

'Mr. O'Shea, of course. '

'No, not Mr. O'Shea, though I am almost prepared for such a step on hispart--nor from your brother Dick, who has been falling in and out of lovewith me for the last three months or more. My present conquest is thesupremely arrogant, but now condescending, Mr. Walpole, who, for reasons ofstate and exigencies of party, has been led to believe that a pretty wife, with a certain amount of natural astuteness, might advance his interests, and tend to his promotion in public life; and with his old instincts as agambler, he is actually ready to risk his fortunes on a single card, and I, the portionless Greek girl, with about the same advantages of family as offortune--I am to be that queen of trumps on which he stands to win. Andnow, darling, the cup of tea, the cup of tea, if you want to hear more. '

While Kate was busy arranging the cups of a little tea-service that didduty in her dressing-room, Nina walked impatiently to and fro, talking withrapidity all the time. 

'The man is a greater fool than I thought him, and mistakes his nativeweakness of mind for originality. If you had heard the imbecile nonsensehe talked to me for political shrewdness, and when he had shown me what avery poor creature he was, he made me the offer of himself! This was so farhonest and above-board. It was saying in so many words, "You see, I am abankrupt. " Now, I don't like bankrupts, either of mind or money. Could henot have seen that he who seeks my favour must sue in another fashion?'

'And so you refused him?' said Kate, as she poured out her tea. 

'Far from it--I rather listened to his suit. I was so far curious to hearwhat he could plead in his behalf, that I bade him write it. Yes, dearest;it was a maxim of that very acute man my papa, that when a person makes youany dubious proposition in words, you oblige him to commit it to writing. Not necessarily to be used against him afterwards, but for this reason--andI can almost quote my papa's phrase on the occasion--in the homage of hisself-love, a man will rarely write himself such a knave as he will dareto own when he is talking, and in that act of weakness is the gain of theother party to the compact. '

'I don't think I understand you. '

'I'm sure you do not; and you have put no sugar in my tea, which is worse. Do you mean to say that your clock is right, and that it is already nighseven? Oh dear! and I, who have not told you one-half of my news, I mustgo and dress. I have a certain green silk with white roses which I mean towear, and with my hair in that crimson Neapolitan net, it is a toilet _àla_ minute. '

'You know how it becomes you, ' said Kate, half slyly. 

'Of course I do, or in this critical moment of my life I should not riskit. It will have its own suggestive meaning too. It will recall _ce cher_Cecil to days at Baia, or wandering along the coast at Portici. I haveknown a fragment of lace, a flower, a few bars of a song, do more to linkthe broken chain of memory than scores of more laboured recollections; andthen these little paths that lead you back are so simple, so free from allpremeditation. Don't you think so, dear?'

'I do not know, and if it were not rude, I'd say I do not care?'

'If my cup of tea were not so good, I should be offended, and leave theroom after such a speech. But you do not know, you could not guess, theinteresting things that I could tell you, ' cried she, with an almostbreathless rapidity. 'Just imagine that deep statesman, that profoundplotter, telling me that they actually did not wish to captureDonogan--that they would rather that he should escape!'

'He told you this?'

'He did more: he showed me the secret instructions to his policecreatures--I forget how they are called--showing what they might do toconnive at his escape, and how they should--if they could--induce him togive some written pledge to leave Ireland for ever. '

'Oh, this is impossible!' cried Kate. 

'I could prove it to you, if I had not just sent off the veritable bit ofwriting by post. Yes, stare and look horrified if you like; it is all true. I stole the piece of paper with the secret directions, and sent it straightto Donogan, under cover to Archibald Casey, Esq. , 9 Lower Gardner Street, Dublin. '

'How could you have done such a thing?'

'Say, how could I have done otherwise. Donogan now knows whether it willbecome him to sign this pact with the enemy. If he deem his life worthhaving at the price, it is well that _I_ should know it. '

'It is then of yourself you were thinking all the while. '

'Of myself and of him. I do not say I love this man; but I do say hisconduct now shall decide if he be worth loving. There's the bell fordinner. You shall hear all I have to say this evening. What an interest itgives to life, even this much of plot and peril! Short of being with therebel himself, Kate, and sharing his dangers, I know of nothing could havegiven me such delight. '

She turned back as she left the door, and said, 'Make Mr. Walpole take youdown to dinner to-day; I shall take Mr. O'Shea's arm, or your brother's. '

The address of Archibald Casey, which Nina had used on this occasion, wasthat of a well-known solicitor in Dublin, whose Conservative opinionsplaced him above all suspicion or distrust. One of his clients, however--acertain Mr. Maher--had been permitted to have letters occasionallyaddressed to him to Casey's care; and Maher, being an old college friend ofDonogan's, afforded him this mode of receiving letters in times of unusualurgency or danger. Maher shared very slightly in Donogan's opinions. Hethought the men of the National party not only dangerous in themselves, but that they afforded a reason for many of the repressive laws whichEnglishmen passed with reference to Ireland. A friendship of early life, when both these young men were college students, had overcome suchscruples, and Donogan had been permitted to have many letters markedsimply with a D. , which were sent under cover to Maher. This facility had, however, been granted so far back as '47, and had not been renewed in theinterval, during which time the Archibald Casey of that period had died, and been succeeded by a son with the same name as his father. 

When Nina, on looking over Donogan's note-book, came upon this address, shesaw also some almost illegible words, which implied that it was only to beemployed as the last resort, or had been so used--a phrase she could notexactly determine what it meant. The present occasion--so emergent in everyway--appeared to warrant both haste and security; and so, under cover to S. Maher, she wrote to Donogan in these words:--

'I send you the words, in the original handwriting, of the instructionswith regard to you. You will do what your honour and your consciencedictate. Do not write to me; the public papers will inform me what yourdecision has been, and I shall be satisfied, however it incline. I relyupon you to burn the inclosure. '

A suit-at-law, in which Casey acted as Maher's attorney at this period, required that the letters addressed to his house for Maher should be openedand read; and though the letter D. On the outside might have suggested acaution, Casey either overlooked or misunderstood it, and broke the seal. Not knowing what to think of this document, which was without signature, and had no clue to the writer except the postmark of Kilgobbin, Caseyhastened to lay the letter as it stood before the barrister who conductedMaher's cause, and to ask his advice. The Right Hon. Paul Hartigan was anex-Attorney-General of the Tory party--a zealous, active, but somewhatrash member of his party; still in the House, a member for Mallow, and farmore eager for the return of his friends to power than the great man whodictated the tactics of the Opposition, and who with more of responsibilitycould calculate the chances of success. 

Paul Hartigan's estimate of the Whigs was such that it would have in nowiseastonished him to discover that Mr. Gladstone was in close correspondencewith O'Donovan Rossa, or that Chichester Fortescue had been sworn in as ahead-centre. That the whole Cabinet were secretly Papists, and held weeklyconfession at the feet of Dr. Manning, he was prepared to prove. He didnot vouch for Mr. Lowe; but he could produce the form of scapular worn byMr. Gladstone, and had a facsimile of the scourge by which Mr. Cardwelldiurnally chastened his natural instincts. 

If, then, he expressed but small astonishment at this 'traffic of theGovernment with rebellion, ' for so he called it--he lost no time inendeavouring to trace the writer of the letter, and ascertaining, so far ashe might, the authenticity of the inclosure. 

'It's all true, Casey, ' said he, a few days after his receipt of thepapers. 'The instructions are written by Cecil Walpole, the privatesecretary of Lord Danesbury. I have obtained several specimens of hiswriting. There is no attempt at disguise or concealment in this. I havelearned, too, that the police-constable Dargan is one of their most trustedagents; and the only thing now to find out is, who is the writer of theletter, for up to this all we know is, the hand is a woman's. '

Now it chanced that when Mr. Hartigan--who had taken great pains andbestowed much time to learn the story of the night attack on Kilgobbin, andwished to make the presence of Mr. Walpole on the scene the ground of aquestion in Parliament--had consulted the leader of the Opposition on thesubject, he had met not only a distinct refusal of aid, but something verylike a reproof for his ill-advised zeal. The Honourable Paul, not for thefirst time disposed to distrust the political loyalty that differed withhis own ideas, now declared openly that he would not confide this greatdisclosure to the lukewarm advocacy of Mr. Disraeli; he would himself layit before the House, and stand or fall by the result. 

If the men who 'stand or fall' by any measure were counted, it is to befeared that they usually would be found not only in the category of thelatter, but that they very rarely rise again, so very few are the matterswhich can be determined without some compromise, and so rare are thepolitical questions which comprehend a distinct principle. 

What warmed the Hartigan ardour, and, indeed, chafed it to a white heat onthis occasion, was to see by the public papers that Daniel Donogan had beenfixed on by the men of King's County as the popular candidate, and a publicmeeting held at Kilbeggan to declare that the man who should oppose himat the hustings should be pronounced the enemy of Ireland. To show thatwhile this man was advertised in the _Hue and Cry_, with an immense rewardfor his apprehension, he was in secret protected by the Government, whoactually condescended to treat with him; what an occasion would thisafford for an attack that would revive the memories of Grattan's scorn andCurran's sarcasm, and declare to the senate of England that the men who ledthem were unworthy guardians of the national honour!

CHAPTER L

CROSS-PURPOSES

Whether Walpole found some peculiar difficulty in committing his intentionsto writing, or whether the press of business which usually occupied hismornings served as an excuse, or whether he was satisfied with the progressof his suit by his personal assiduities, is not easy to say; but hisattentions to Mademoiselle Kostalergi had now assumed the form whichprudent mothers are wont to call 'serious, ' and had already passed intothat stage where small jealousies begin, and little episodes of anger anddiscontent are admitted as symptoms of the complaint. 

In fact, he had got to think himself privileged to remonstrate againstthis, and to dictate that--a state, be it observed, which, whatever itseffect upon the 'lady of his love, ' makes a man particularly odious tothe people around him, and he is singularly fortunate if it make him notridiculous also. 

The docile or submissive was not the remarkable element in Nina's nature. She usually resisted advice, and resented anything like dictation from anyquarter. Indeed, they who knew her best saw that, however open to casualinfluences, a direct show of guidance was sure to call up all her spiritof opposition. It was, then, a matter of actual astonishment to all toperceive not only how quietly and patiently she accepted Walpole's commentsand suggestions, but how implicitly she seemed to obey them. 

All the little harmless freedoms of manner with Dick Kearney and O'Sheawere now completely given up. No more was there between them thatinterchange of light persiflage which, presupposing some subject of commoninterest, is in itself a ground of intimacy. 

She ceased to sing the songs that were their favourites. Her walks in thegarden after breakfast, where her ready wit and genial pleasantry used tobring her a perfect troop of followers, were abandoned. The little projectsof daily pleasure, hitherto her especial province, were changed for a calmsubdued demeanour which, though devoid of all depression, wore the impressof a certain thoughtfulness and seriousness. 

No man was less observant than old Kearney, and yet even he saw the changeat last, and asked Kate what it might mean. 'She is not ill, I hope, ' saidhe, 'or is our humdrum life too wearisome to her?'

'I do not suspect either, ' said Kate slowly. 'I rather believe that as Mr. Walpole has paid her certain attentions, she has made the changes in hermanner in deference to some wishes of his. '

'He wants her to be more English, perhaps, ' said he sarcastically. 

'Perhaps so. '

'Well, she is not born one of us, but she is like us all the same, andI'll be sorely grieved if she'll give up her light-heartedness and herpleasantry to win that Cockney. '

'I think she has won the Cockney already, sir. '

A long low whistle was his reply. At last he said, 'I suppose it's a verygrand conquest, and what the world calls "an elegant match"; but mayI never see Easter, if I wouldn't rather she'd marry a fine dashingyoung fellow over six feet high, like O'Shea there, than one of yourgold-chain-and-locket young gentlemen who smile where they ought tolaugh, and pick their way through life as a man crosses a stream onstepping-stones. '

'Maybe she does not like Mr. O'Shea, sir. '

'And do you think she likes the other man? or is it anything else than oneof those mercenary attachments that you young ladies understand better, farbetter, than the most worldly-minded father or mother of us all?'

'Mr. Walpole has not, I believe, any fortune, sir. There is nothing verydazzling in his position or his prospects. '

'No. Not amongst his own set, nor with his own people--he is small enoughthere, I grant you; but when he come down to ours, Kitty, we think him agrandee of Spain; and if he was married into the family, we'd get off allhis noble relations by heart, and soon start talking of our aunt, LadySuch-a-one, and Lord Somebody else, that was our first-cousin, till ourneighbours would nearly die out of pure spite. Sitting down in one'spoverty, and thinking over one's grand relations, is for all the world likePaddy eating his potatoes, and pointing at the red-herring--even the lookof what he dare not taste flavours his meal. '

'At least, sir, you have found an excuse for our conduct. '

'Because we are all snobs, Kitty; because there is not a bit of honesty ormanliness in our nature; and because our women, that need not be bargainingor borrowing--neither pawnbrokers nor usurers--are just as vulgar-mindedas ourselves; and now that we have given twenty millions to get rid ofslavery, like to show how they can keep it up in the old country, just outof defiance. '

'If you disapprove of Mr. Walpole, sir, I believe it is full time youshould say so. '

'I neither approve nor disapprove of him. I don't well know whether Ihave any right to do either--I mean so far as to influence her choice. Hebelongs to a sort of men I know as little about as I do of the ChoctawIndians. They have lives and notions and ways all unlike ours. The world isso civil to them that it prepares everything to their taste. If they wantto shoot, the birds are cooped up in a cover, and only let fly when they'reready. When they fish, the salmon are kept prepared to be caught; and ifthey make love, the young lady is just as ready to rise to the fly, andas willing to be bagged as either. Thank God, my darling, with all ourbarbarism, we have not come to that in Ireland. '

'Here comes Mr. Walpole now, sir; and if I read his face aright, he hassomething of importance to say to you. ' Kate had barely time to leave theroom as Walpole came forward with an open telegram and a mass of papers inhis hand. 

'May I have a few moments of conversation with you?' said he; and in thetone of his words, and a certain gravity in his manner, Kearney thought hecould perceive what the communication portended. 

'I am at your orders, ' said Kearney, and he placed a chair for the other. 

'An incident has befallen my life here, Mr. Kearney, which, I grieve tosay, may not only colour the whole of my future career, but not impossiblyprove the barrier to my pursuit of public life. '

Kearney stared at him as he finished speaking, and the two men sat fixedlygazing on each other. 

'It is, I hasten to own, the one unpleasant, the one, the only one, disastrous event of a visit full of the happiest memories of my life. Ofyour generous and graceful hospitality, I cannot say half what I desire--'

'Say nothing about my hospitality, ' said Kearney, whose irritation as towhat the other called a disaster left him no place for any other sentiment;'but just tell me why you count this a misfortune. '

'I call a misfortune, sir, what may not only depose me from my office andmy station, but withdraw entirely from me the favour and protection of myuncle, Lord Danesbury. '

'Then why the devil do you do it?' cried Kearney angrily. 

'Why do I do what, sir? I am not aware of any action of mine you shouldquestion with such energy. '

'I mean, if it only tends to ruin your prospects and disgust your family, why do you persist, sir? I was going to say more, and ask with what faceyou presume to come and tell these things to _me_?'

'I am really unable to understand you, sir. '

'Mayhap, we are both of us in the same predicament, ' cried Kearney, as hewiped his brow in proof of his confusion. 

'Had you accorded me a very little patience, I might, perhaps, haveexplained myself. '

Not trusting himself with a word, Kearney nodded, and the other wenton: 'The post this morning brought me, among other things, these twonewspapers, with penmarks in the margin to direct my attention. This is the_Lily of Londonderry_, a wild Orange print; this the _Banner of Ulster_, ajournal of the same complexion. Here is what the _Lily_ says: "Our countymember, Sir Jonas Gettering, is now in a position to call the attentionof Parliament to a document which will distinctly show how Her Majesty'sMinisters are not only in close correspondence with the leaders ofFenianism, but that Irish rebellion receives its support and comfort fromthe present Cabinet. Grave as this charge is, and momentous as would bethe consequences of such an allegation if unfounded, we repeat that such adocument is in existence, and that we who write these lines have held it inour hands and have perused it. "

'The _Banner_ copies the paragraph, and adds, "We give all the publicityin our power to a statement which, from our personal knowledge, we candeclare to be true. If the disclosures which a debate on this subjectmust inevitably lead to will not convince Englishmen that Ireland is nowgoverned by a party whose falsehood and subtlety not even Machiavellihimself could justify, we are free to declare we are ready to join theNationalists to-morrow, and to cry out for a Parliament in College Green, in preference to a Holy Inquisition at Westminster. "'

'That fellow has blood in him, ' cried Kearney, with enthusiasm, 'and I go along way with him. '

'That may be, sir, and I am sorry to hear it, ' said Walpole coldly; 'butwhat I am concerned to tell you is, that the document or memorandum herealluded to was among my papers, and abstracted from them since I have beenhere. '

'So that there _was_ actually such a paper?' broke in Kearney. 

'There was a paper which the malevolence of a party journalist couldconvert to the support of such a charge. What concerns me more immediatelyis, that it has been stolen from my despatch-box. '

'Are you certain of that?'

'I believe I can prove it. The only day in which I was busied with thesepapers, I carried them down to the library, and with my own hands I broughtthem back to my room and placed them under lock and key at once. The boxbears no trace of having been broken, so that the only solution is a key. Perhaps my own key may have been used to open it, for the document isgone. '

'This is a bad business, ' said Kearney sorrowfully. 

'It is ruin to _me_, ' cried Walpole, with passion. 'Here is a despatch fromLord Danesbury, commanding me immediately to go over to him in Wales, and Ican guess easily what has occasioned the order. '

'I'll send for a force of Dublin detectives. I'll write to the chief ofthe police. I'll not rest till I have every one in the house examined onoath, ' cried Kearney. 'What was it like? Was it a despatch--was it in anenvelope?'

'It was a mere memorandum--a piece of post-paper, and headed, "Draughtof instruction touching D. D. Forward to chief constable of police atLetterkenny. October 9th. "'

'But you had no direct correspondence with Donogan?'

'I believe, sir, I need not assure you I had not. The malevolence of partyhas alone the merit of such an imputation. For reasons of state, we desiredto observe a certain course towards the man, and Orange malignity ispleased to misrepresent and calumniate us. '

'And can't you say so in Parliament?'

'So we will, sir, and the nation will believe us. Meanwhile, see themischief that the miserable slander will reflect upon our administrationhere, and remember that the people who could alone contradict the story arethose very Fenians who will benefit by its being believed. '

'Do your suspicions point to any one in particular? Do you believe thatCurtis--?'

'I had it in my hand the day after he left. '

'Was any one aware of its existence here but yourself?'

'None--wait, I am wrong. Your niece saw it. She was in the library oneday. I was engaged in writing, and as we grew to talk over the country, Ichanced to show her the despatch. '

'Let us ask her if she remembers whether any servant was about at the time, or happened to enter the room. '

'I can myself answer that question. I know there was not. '

'Let us call her down and see what she remembers, ' said Kearney. 

'I'd rather not, sir. A mere question in such a case would be offensive, and I would not risk the chance. What I would most wish is, to place mydespatch-box, with the key, in your keeping, for the purposes of theinquiry, for I must start in half an hour. I have sent for post-horses toMoate, and ordered a special train to town. I shall, I hope, catch theeight o'clock boat for Holyhead, and be with his lordship before this timeto-morrow. If I do not see the ladies, for I believe they are out walking, will you make my excuses and my adieux? my confusion and discomfiture will, I feel sure, plead for me. It would not be, perhaps, too much to ask forany information that a police inquiry might elicit; and if either of theyoung ladies would vouchsafe me a line to say what, if anything, has beendiscovered, I should feel deeply gratified. '

'I'll look to that. You shall be informed. '

'There was another question that I much desired to speak of, ' and herehe hesitated and faltered; 'but perhaps, on every score, it is as well Ishould defer it till my return to Ireland. '

'You know best, whatever it is, ' said the old man dryly. 

'Yes, I think so. I am sure of it. 'A hurried shake-hands followed, and hewas gone. 

It is but right to add that a glance at the moment through the window hadshown him the wearer of a muslin dress turning into the copse outside thegarden, and Walpole dashed down the stairs and hurried in the direction hesaw Nina take, with all the speed he could. 

'Get my luggage on the carriage, and have everything ready, ' said he, asthe horses were drawn up at the door. 'I shall return in a moment. '

CHAPTER LI

AWAKENINGS

When Walpole hurried into the beech alley which he had seen Nina take, andfollowed her in all haste, he did not stop to question himself why he didso. Indeed, if prudence were to be consulted, there was every reason in theworld why he should rather have left his leave-takings to the care of Mr. Kearney than assume the charge of them himself; but if young gentlemen whofall in love were only to be logical or 'consequent, ' the tender passionwould soon lose some of the contingencies which give it much of its charm, and people who follow such occupations as mine would discover that they hadlost one of the principal employments of their lifetime. 

As he went along, however, he bethought him that as it was to say good-byehe now followed her, it behoved him to blend his leave-taking with thatpledge of a speedy return, which, like the effects of light in landscape, bring out the various tints in the richest colouring, and mark moredistinctly all that is in shadow. 'I shall at least see, ' muttered he tohimself, 'how far my presence here serves to brighten her daily life, andwhat amount of gloom my absence will suggest. ' Cecil Walpole was one of aclass--and I hasten to say it is a class--who, if not very lavish of theirown affections, or accustomed to draw largely on their own emotions, arevery fond of being loved themselves, and not only are they convinced thatas there can be nothing more natural or reasonable than to love them, itis still a highly commendable feature in the person who carries that loveto the extent of a small idolatry, and makes it the business of a life. To worship the men of this order constitutes in their eyes a speciesof intellectual superiority for which they are grateful, and this samegratitude represents to themselves all of love their natures are capable offeeling. 

He knew thoroughly that Nina was not alone the most beautiful woman he hadever seen, that the fascinations of her manner, and her grace of movementand gesture, exercised a sway that was almost magic; that in quicknessto apprehend and readiness to reply, she scarcely had an equal; and thatwhether she smiled, or looked pensive, or listened, or spoke, there wasan absorbing charm about her that made one forget all else around her, and unable to see any but her; and yet, with all this consciousness, herecognised no trait about her so thoroughly attractive as that she admired_him_. 

Let me not be misunderstood. This same sentiment can be at times somethingvery different from a mere egotism--not that I mean to say it was such inthe present case. Cecil Walpole fully represented the order he belonged to, and was a most well-looking, well-dressed, and well-bred young gentleman, only suggesting the reflection that, to live amongst such a class pure andundiluted, would be little better than a life passed in the midst of Frenchcommunism. 

I have said that, after his fashion, he was 'in love' with her, and so, after his fashion, he wanted to say that he was going away, and to tell hernot to be utterly disconsolate till he came back again. 'I can imagine, 'thought he, 'how I made her life here, how, in developing the features thatattract _me_, I made her a very different creature to herself. '

It was not at all unpleasant to him to think that the people who shouldsurround her were so unlike himself. 'The barbarians, ' as he courteouslycalled them to himself, 'will be very hard to endure. Nor am I very sorryfor it, only she must catch nothing of their traits in accommodatingherself to their habits. On that I must strongly insist. Whether it be bysinging their silly ballads--that four-note melody they call "Irish music, "or through mere imitation, she has already caught a slight accent of thecountry. She must get rid of this. She will have to divest herself of allher "Kilgobbinries" ere I present her to my friends in town. ' Apart fromthese disparagements, she could, as he expressed it, 'hold her own, ' andpeople take a very narrow view of the social dealings of the world, whofail to see how much occasion a woman has for the exercise of tact andtemper and discretion and ready-wittedness and generosity in all thewell-bred intercourse of life. Just as Walpole had arrived at that stage ofreflection to recognise that she was exactly the woman to suit him and pushhis fortunes with the world, he reached a part of the wood where a littlespace had been cleared, and a few rustic seats scattered about to make ahalting-place. The sound of voices caught his ear, and he stopped, and now, looking stealthily through the brushwood, he saw Gorman O'Shea as he lay ina lounging attitude on a bench and smoked his cigar, while Nina Kostalergiwas busily engaged in pinning up the skirt of her dress in a festoonfashion, which, to Cecil's ideas at least, displayed more of a marvellouslypretty instep and ankle than he thought strictly warranted. Puzzling asthis seemed, the first words she spoke gave the explanation. 

[Illustration: Nina Kostalergi was busily engaged in pinning up the skirtof her dress]

'Don't flatter yourself, most valiant soldier, that you are going to teachme the "Czardasz. " I learned it years ago from Tassilo Esterhazy; but Iasked you to come here to set me right about that half-minuet step thatbegins it. I believe I have got into the habit of doing the man's part, forI used to be Pauline Esterhazy's partner after Tassilo went away. '

'You had a precious dancing-master in Tassilo, ' growled out O'Shea. 'Thegreatest scamp in the Austrian army. '

'I know nothing of the moralities of the Austrian army, but the count was aperfect gentleman, and a special friend of mine. '

'I am sorry for it, ' was the gruff rejoinder. 

'You have nothing to grieve for, sir. You have no vested interest to beimperilled by anything that I do. '

'Let us not quarrel, at all events, ' said he, as he arose with somealacrity and flung away his cigar; and Walpole turned away, as littlepleased with what he had heard as dissatisfied with himself for havinglistened. 'And we call these things accidents, ' muttered he; 'but I believeFortune means more generously by us when she crosses our path in this wise. I almost wish I had gone a step farther, and stood before them. At leastit would have finished this episode, and without a word. As it is, a merephrase will do it--the simple question as to what progress she makes indancing will show I know all. But do I know all?' Thus speculating andruminating, he went his way till he reached the carriage, and drove off atspeed, for the first time in his life, really and deeply in love!

He made his journey safely, and arrived at Holyhead by daybreak. He hadmeant to go over deliberately all that he should say to the Viceroy, whenquestioned, as he expected to be, on the condition of Ireland. It was anold story, and with very few variations to enliven it. 

How was it that, with all his Irish intelligence well arranged in hismind--the agrarian crime, the ineffective police, the timid juries, the insolence of the popular press, and the arrogant demands of thepriesthood--how was it that, ready to state all these obstacles to rightgovernment, and prepared to show that it was only by 'out-jockeying' theparties, he could hope to win in Ireland still, that Greek girl, and whathe called her perfidy, would occupy a most disproportionate share of histhoughts, and a larger place in his heart also? The simple truth is, thatthough up to this Walpole found immense pleasure in his flirtation withNina Kostalergi, yet his feeling for her now was nearer love than anythinghe had experienced before. The bare suspicion that a woman could jilt him, or the possible thought that a rival could be found to supplant him, gave, by the very pain it occasioned, such an interest to the episode, that hecould scarcely think of anything else. That the most effectual way to dealwith the Greek was to renew his old relations with his cousin Lady Maudewas clear enough. 'At least I shall seem to be the traitor, ' thought he, 'and she shall not glory in the thought of having deceived _me_. ' While hewas still revolving these thoughts, he arrived at the castle, and learnedas he crossed the door that his lordship was impatient to see him. 

Lord Danesbury had never been a fluent speaker in public, while in privatelife a natural indolence of disposition, improved, so to say, by an Easternlife, had made him so sparing of his words, that at times when he wasill or indisposed he could never be said to converse at all, and histalk consisted of very short sentences strung loosely together, and notunfrequently so ill-connected as to show that an unexpressed thought veryoften intervened between the uttered fragments. Except to men who, likeWalpole, knew him intimately, he was all but unintelligible. The privatesecretary, however, understood how to fill up the blanks in any discourse, and so follow out indications which, to less practised eyes, left nofootmarks behind them. 

His Excellency, slowly recovering from a sharp attack of gout, was proppedby pillows, and smoking a long Turkish pipe, as Cecil entered the room andsaluted him. 'Come at last, ' was his lordship's greeting. 'Ought to havebeen here weeks ago. Read that. ' And he pushed towards him a _Times_, with a mark on the margin: 'To ask the Secretary for Ireland whether thestatement made by certain newspapers in the North of a correspondencebetween the Castle authorities and the Fenian leader was true, and whethersuch correspondence could be laid on the table of the House?'

'Read it out, ' cried the Viceroy, as Walpole conned over the paragraphsomewhat slowly to himself. 

'I think, my lord, when you have heard a few words of explanation from me, you will see that this charge has not the gravity these newspaper-peoplewould like to attach to it. '

'Can't be explained--nothing could justify--infernal blunder--and must go. '

'Pray, my lord, vouchsafe me even five minutes. '

'See it all--balderdash--explain nothing--Cardinal more offended than therest--and here, read. ' And he pushed a letter towards him, dated DowningStreet, and marked private. 'The idiot you left behind you has beenbetrayed into writing to the rebels and making conditions with them. Todisown him now is not enough. '

'Really, my lord, I don't see why I should submit to the indignity ofreading more of this. '

His Excellency crushed the letter in his hand, and puffed very vigorouslyat his pipe, which was nearly extinguished. 'Must go, ' said he at last, asa fresh volume of smoke rolled forth. 

'That I can believe--that I can understand, my lord. When you tell me youcease to endorse my pledges, I feel I am a bankrupt in your esteem. '

'Others smashed in the same insolvency--inconceivable blunder--where wasCartwright?--what was Holmes about? No one in Dublin to keep you out ofthis cursed folly?'

'Until your lordship's patience will permit me to say a few words, I cannothope to justify my conduct. '

'No justifying--no explaining--no! regular smash and complete disgrace. Must go. '

'I am quite ready to go. Your Excellency has no need to recall me to thenecessity. '

'Knew it all--and against my will, too--said so from the first--thing Inever liked--nor see my way in. Must go--must go. '

'I presume, my lord, I may leave you now. I want a bath and a cup ofcoffee. '

'Answer that!' was the gruff reply, as he tossed across the table a fewlines signed, 'Bertie Spencer, Private Secretary. '

'"I am directed to request that Mr. Walpole will enable the RightHonourable Mr. Annihough to give the flattest denial to the inclosed. "'

'That must be done at once, ' said the Viceroy, as the other ceased to readthe note. 

'It is impossible, my lord; I cannot deny my own handwriting. '

'Annihough will find some road out of it, ' muttered the other. '_You_ werea fool, and mistook your instructions, or the _constable_ was a fool andrequired a misdirection, or the _Fenian_ was a fool, which he would havebeen if he gave the pledge you asked for. Must go, all the same. '

'But I am quite ready to go, my lord, ' rejoined Walpole angrily. 'There isno need to insist so often on that point. '

'Who talks--who thinks of _you_, sir?' cried the other, with an irritatedmanner. 'I speak of myself. It is _I_ must resign--no great sacrifice, perhaps, after all; stupid office, false position, impracticable people. Make them all Papists to-morrow, and ask to be Hindus. They've got theland, and not content if they can't shoot the landlords!'

'If you think, my lord, that by any personal explanation of mine, I couldenable the Minister to make his answer in the House more plausible--'

'Leave the plausibility to himself, sir, ' and then he added, half aloud, 'he'll be unintelligible enough without _you_. There, go, and get somebreakfast--come back afterwards, and I'll dictate my letter of resignation. Maude has had a letter from Atlee. Shrewd fellow, Atlee--done the thingwell. '

As Walpole was near the door, his Excellency said, 'You can have Guatemala, if they have not given it away. It will get you out of Europe, which is thefirst thing, and with the yellow fever it may do more. '

'I am profoundly grateful, my lord, ' said he, bowing low. 

'Maude, of course, would not go, so it ends _that_. '

'I am deeply touched by the interest your lordship vouchsafes to myconcerns. '

'Try and live five years, and you'll have a retiring allowance. The lastfellow did, but was eaten by a crocodile out bathing. ' And with this heresumed his _Times_, and turned away, while Walpole hastened off to hisroom, in a frame of mind very far from comfortable or reassuring. 

CHAPTER LII

A CHANCE AGREEMENT

As Dick Kearney and young O'Shea had never attained any close intimacy--astrange sort of half-jealousy, inexplicable as to its cause, served to keepthem apart--it was by mere accident that the two young men met one morningafter breakfast in the garden, and on Kearney's offer of a cigar, the fewwords that followed led to a conversation. 

'I cannot pretend to give you a choice Havana, like one of Walpole's, ' saidDick, 'but you'll perhaps find it smokeable. '

'I'm not difficult, ' said the other; 'and as to Mr. Walpole's tobacco, Idon't think I ever tasted it. '

'And I, ' rejoined the other, 'as seldom as I could; I mean, only whenpoliteness obliged me. '

'I thought you liked him?' said Gorman shortly. 

'I? Far from it. I thought him a consummate puppy, and I saw that he lookeddown on us as inveterate savages. '

'He was a favourite with your ladies, I think?'

'Certainly not with my sister, and I doubt very much with my cousin. Do_you_ like him?'

'No, not at all; but then he belongs to a class of men I neither understandnor sympathise with. Whatever _I_ know of life is associated with downrighthard work. As a soldier I had my five hours' daily drill and the care of myequipments, as a lieutenant I had to see that my men kept to their duty, and whenever I chanced to have a little leisure, I could not give it up toennui or consent to feel bored and wearied. '

'And do you mean to say you had to groom your horse and clean your armswhen you served in the ranks?'

'Not always. As a cadet I had a soldier-servant, what we call a "Bursche";but there were periods when I was out of funds, and barely able to grope myway to the next quarter-day, and at these times I had but one meal a day, and obliged to draw my waist-belt pretty tight to make me feel I had eatenenough. A Bursche costs very little, but I could not spare even thatlittle. '

'Confoundedly hard that. '

'All my own fault. By a little care and foresight, even without thrift, I had enough to live as well as I ought; but a reckless dash of the oldspendthrift blood I came of would master me now and then, and I'd launchout into some extravagance that would leave me penniless for months after. '

'I believe I can understand that. One does get horribly bored by themonotony of a well-to-do existence: just as I feel my life here--almostinsupportable. '

'But you are going into Parliament; you are going to be a great publicman. '

'That bubble has burst already; don't you know what happened at Birr? Theytore down all Miller's notices and mine, they smashed our booths, beat ourvoters out of the town, and placed Donogan--the rebel Donogan--at the headof the poll, and the head-centre is now M. P. For King's County. '

'And he has a right to sit in the House?'

'There's the question. The matter is discussed every day in the newspapers, and there are as many for as against him. Some aver that the popular willis a sovereign edict that rises above all eventualities; others assert thatthe sentence which pronounces a man a felon declares him to be dead inlaw. '

'And which side do you incline to?'

'I believe in the latter: he'll not be permitted to take his seat. '

'You'll have another chance, then?'

'No; I'll venture no more. Indeed, but for this same man Donogan, I hadnever thought of it. He filled my head with ideas of a great part tobe played and a proud place to be occupied, and that even without highabilities, a man of a strong will, a fixed resolve, and an honestconscience, might at this time do great things for Ireland. '

'And then betrayed you?'

'No such thing; he no more dreamed of Parliament himself than you do now. He knew he was liable to the law, --he was hiding from the police--and wellaware that there was a price upon his head. '

'But if he was true to you, why did he not refuse this honour? why did henot decline to be elected?'

'They never gave him the choice. Don't you see, it is one of the strangesigns of the strange times we are living in that the people fix uponcertain men as their natural leaders and compel them to march in the van, and that it is the force at the back of these leaders that, far more thantheir talents, makes them formidable in public life. '

'I only follow it in part. I scarcely see what they aim at, and I do notknow if they see it more clearly themselves. And now, what will you turnto?'

'I wish you could tell me. '

'About as blank a future as my own, ' muttered Gorman. 

'Come, come, _you_ have a career: you are a lieutenant of lancers; intime you will be a captain, and eventually a colonel, and who knows buta general at last, with Heaven knows how many crosses and medals on yourbreast. '

'Nothing less likely--the day is gone by when Englishmen were advanced toplaces of high honour and trust in the Austrian army. There are no morefield-marshals like Nugent than major-generals like O'Connell. I might bemade a Rittmeister, and if I lived long enough, and was not superannuated, a major; but there my ambition must cease. '

'And you are content with that prospect?'

'Of course I am not. I go back to it with something little short ofdespair. '

'Why go back, then?'

'Tell me what else to do--tell me what other road in life to take--show meeven one alternative. '

The silence that now succeeded lasted several minutes, each immersed in hisown thoughts, and each doubtless convinced how little presumption he had toadvise or counsel the other. 

'Do you know, O'Shea, ' cried Kearney, 'I used to fancy that this Austrianlife of yours was a mere caprice--that you took "a cast, " as we call it inthe hunting-field, amongst those fellows to see what they were like andwhat sort of an existence was theirs--but that being your aunt's heir, andwith a snug estate that must one day come to you, it was a mere "lark, " andnot to be continued beyond a year or two?'

'Not a bit of it. I never presumed to think I should be my aunt's heir--andnow less than ever. Do you know, that even the small pension she hasallowed me hitherto is now about to be withdrawn, and I shall be left tolive on my pay?'

'How much does that mean?'

'A few pounds more or less than you pay for your saddle-horse at livery atDycers'. '

'You don't mean that?'

'I do mean it, and even that beggarly pittance is stopped when I am on myleave; so that at this moment my whole worldly wealth is here, ' and hetook from his pocket a handful of loose coin, in which a few gold piecesglittered amidst a mass of discoloured and smooth-looking silver. 

'On my oath, I believe you are the richer man of the two, ' cried Kearney, 'for except a few half-crowns on my dressing-table, and some coppers, Idon't believe I am master of a coin with the Queen's image. '

'I say, Kearney, what a horrible take-in we should prove to mothers withdaughters to marry!'

'Not a bit of it. You may impose upon any one else--your tailor, yourbootmaker, even the horsy gent that jobs your cabriolet, but you'll nevercheat the mamma who has the daughter on sale. '

Gorman could not help laughing at the more than ordinary irritability withwhich these words were spoken, and charged him at last with having uttereda personal experience. 

'True, after all!' said Dick, half indolently. 'I used to spoon a prettygirl up in Dublin, ride with her when I could, and dance with her at allthe balls, and a certain chum of mine--a Joe Atlee--of whom you may haveheard--under-took, simply by a series of artful rumours as to my futureprospects--now extolling me as a man of fortune and a fine estate, to-morrow exhibiting me as a mere pretender with a mock title and mockincome--to determine how I should be treated in this family; and he wouldsay to me, "Dick, you are going to be asked to dinner on Saturday next";or, "I say, old fellow, they're going to leave you out of that picnic atPowerscourt. You'll find the Clancys rather cold at your next meeting. "'

'And he would be right in his guess?'

'To the letter! Ay, and I shame to say that the young girl answered thesignal as promptly as the mother. '

'I hope it cured you of your passion?'

'I don't know that it did. When you begin to like a girl, and find thatshe has regularly installed herself in a corner of your heart, there isscarcely a thing she can do you'll not discover a good reason for; andeven when your ingenuity fails, go and pay a visit; there is some artfulwitchery in that creation you have built up about her--for I heartilybelieve most of us are merely clothing a sort of lay figure of lovelinesswith attributes of our fancy--and the end of it is, we are about as wiseabout our idols as the South Sea savages in their homage to the gods oftheir own carving. '

'I don't think that!' said Gorman sternly. 'I could no more invent thefascination that charms me than I could model a Venus or an Ariadne. '

'I see where your mistake lies. You do all this, and never know you do it. Mind, I am only giving you Joe Atlee's theory all this time; for though Ibelieve in, I never invented it. '

'And who is Atlee?'

'A chum of mine--a clever dog enough--who, as he says himself, takes a verylow opinion of mankind, and in consequence finds this a capital world tolive in. '

'I should hate the fellow. '

'Not if you met him. He can be very companionable, though I never saw anyone take less trouble to please. He is popular almost everywhere. '

'I know I should hate him. '

'My cousin Nina thought the same, and declared, from the mere sight of hisphotograph, that he was false and treacherous, and Heaven knows what elsebesides; and now she'll not suffer a word in his disparagement. She beganexactly as you say you would, by a strong prejudice against him. I rememberthe day he came down here--her manner towards him was more than distant;and I told my sister Kate how it offended me; and Kate only smiled andsaid, "Have a little patience, Dick. "'

'And you took the advice? You did have a little patience?'

'Yes; and the end is they are firm friends. I'm not sure they don'tcorrespond. '

'Is there love in the case, then?'

'That is what I cannot make out. So far as I know either of them, thereis no trustfulness in their dispositions; each of them must see into thenature of the other. I have heard Joe Atlee say, "With that woman for awife, a man might safely bet on his success in life. " And she herself oneday owned, "If a girl was obliged to marry a man without sixpence, shemight take Atlee. "'

'So, I have it, they will be man and wife yet!'

'Who knows! Have another weed?'

Gorman declined the offered cigar, and again a pause in the conversationfollowed. At last he suddenly said, 'She told me she thought she wouldmarry Walpole. '

'She told _you_ that? How did it come about to make _you_ such aconfidence?'

'Just this way. I was getting a little--not spooney--but attentive, andrather liked hanging after her; and in one of our walks in the wood--andthere was no flirting at the time between us--she suddenly said, "I don'tthink you are half a bad fellow, lieutenant. " "Thanks for the compliment, "said I coldly. She never heeded my remark, but went on, "I mean, in fact, that if you had something to live for, and somebody to care about, thereis just the sort of stuff in you to make you equal to both. " Not exactlyknowing what I said, and half, only half in earnest, I answered, "Why can Inot have one to care for?" And I looked tenderly into her eyes as I spoke. She did not wince under my glance. Her face was calm, and her colour didnot change; and she was full a minute before she said, with a faint sigh, "I suppose I shall marry Cecil Walpole. " "Do you mean, " said I, "againstyour will?" "Who told you I had a will, sir?" said she haughtily; "or thatif I had, I should now be walking here in this wood alone with you? No, no, " added she hurriedly, "you cannot understand me. There is nothing to beoffended at. Go and gather me some of those wild flowers, and we'll talk ofsomething else. "'

'How like her!--how like her!' said Dick, and then looked sad and pondered. 'I was very near falling in love with her myself!' said he, after aconsiderable pause. 

'She has a way of curing a man if he should get into such an indiscretion, 'muttered Gorman, and there was bitterness in his voice as he spoke. 

'Listen! listen to that!' and from an open window of the house there camethe prolonged cadence of a full sweet voice, as Nina was singing an Irishballad air. 'That's for my father! "Kathleen Mavourneen" is one of hisfavourites, and she can make him cry over it. '

'I'm not very soft-hearted, ' muttered Gorman, 'but she gave me a sense offulness in the throat, like choking, the other day, that I vowed to myselfI'd never listen to that song again. '

'It is not her voice--it is not the music--there is some witchery in thewoman herself that does it, ' cried Dick, almost fiercely. 'Take a walk withher in the wood, saunter down one of these alleys in the garden, and I'llbe shot if your heart will not begin to beat in another fashion, and yourbrain to weave all sorts of bright fancies, in which she will form thechief figure; and though you'll be half inclined to declare your love, andswear that you cannot live without her, some terror will tell you not tobreak the spell of your delight, but to go on walking there at her side, and hearing her words just as though that ecstasy could last for ever. '

'I suspect you are in love with her, ' said O'Shea dryly. 

'Not now. Not now; and I'll take care not to have a relapse, ' said hegravely. 

'How do you mean to manage that?'

'The only one way it is possible--not to see her, nor to hear her--not tolive in the same land with her. I have made up my mind to go to Australia. I don't well know what to do when I get there; but whatever it be, andwhatever it cost me to bear, I shall meet it without shrinking, for therewill be no old associates to look on and remark upon my shabby clothes andbroken boots. '

'What will the passage cost you?' asked Gorman eagerly. 

'I have ascertained that for about fifty pounds I can land myself inMelbourne, and if I have a ten-pound note after, it is as much as I mean toprovide. '

'If I can raise the money, I'll go with you, ' said O'Shea. 

'Will you? is this serious? is it a promise?'

'I pledge my word on it. I'll go over to the Barn to-day and see my aunt. Ithought up to this I could not bring myself to go there, but I will now. Itis for the last time in my life, and I must say good-bye, whether she helpsme or not. '

'You'll scarcely like to ask her for money, ' said Dick. 

'Scarcely--at all events, I'll see her, and I'll tell her that I'm goingaway, with no other thought in my mind than of all the love and affectionshe had for me, worse luck mine that I have not got them still. '

'Shall I walk over with--? would you rather be alone?'

'I believe so! I think I should like to be alone. '

'Let us meet, then, on this spot to-morrow, and decide what is to be done?'

'Agreed!' cried O'Shea, and with a warm shake-hands to ratify the pledge, they parted: Dick towards the lower part of the garden, while O'Shea turnedtowards the house. 

CHAPTER LIII

A SCRAPE

We have all of us felt how depressing is the sensation felt in a familycircle in the first meeting after the departure of their guests. Thefriends who have been staying some time in your house not only bring to thecommon stock their share of pleasant converse and companionship, but, inthe quality of strangers, they exact a certain amount of effort for theiramusement, which is better for him who gives than for the recipient, and they impose that small reserve which excludes the purely personalinconveniences and contrarieties, which unhappily, in strictly familyintercourse, have no small space allotted them for discussion. 

It is but right to say that they who benefit most by, and most gratefullyacknowledge, this boon of the visitors, are the young. The elders, sometimes more disposed to indolence than effort, sometimes irritable atthe check essentially put upon many little egotisms of daily use, andoftener than either, perhaps, glad to get back to the old groove of homediscussion, unrestrained by the presence of strangers; the elders arenow and then given to express a most ungracious gratitude for being onceagain to themselves, and free to be as confidential and outspoken anddisagreeable as their hearts desire. 

The dinner at Kilgobbin Castle, on the day I speak of, consisted solely ofthe Kearney family, and except in the person of the old man himself, notrace of pleasantry could be detected. Kate had her own share of anxieties. A number of notices had been served by refractory tenants for demands theywere about to prefer for improvements, under the new land act. The passionfor litigation, so dear to the Irish peasant's heart--that sense of havingsomething to be quibbled for, so exciting to the imaginative nature of theCelt, had taken possession of all the tenants on the estate, and even thewell-to-do and the satisfied were now bestirring themselves to think ifthey had not some grievance to be turned into profit, and some possiblehardship to be discounted into an abatement. 

Dick Kearney, entirely preoccupied by the thought of his intended journey, already began to feel that the things of home touched him no longer. A fewmonths more and he should be far away from Ireland and her interests, andwhy should he harass himself about the contests of party or the balance offactions, which never again could have any bearing on his future life. Hiswhole thought was what arrangement he could make with his father by which, for a little present assistance, he might surrender all his right on theentail and give up Kilgobbin for ever. 

As for Nina, her complexities were too many and too much interwoven for ourinvestigation; and there were thoughts of all the various persons she hadmet in Ireland, mingled with scenes of the past, and, more strangely still, the people placed in situations and connections which by no likelihoodshould they ever have occupied. The thought that the little comedy ofeveryday life, which she relished immensely, was now to cease for lack ofactors, made her serious--almost sad--and she seldom spoke during the meal. 

At Lord Kilgobbin's request, that they would not leave him to take hiswine alone, they drew their chairs round the dining-room fire; but, exceptthe bright glow of the ruddy turf, and the pleasant look of the old manhimself, there was little that smacked of the agreeable fireside. 

'What has come over you girls this evening?' said the old man. 'Are you inlove, or has the man that ought to be in love with either of you discoveredit was only a mistake he was making?'

'Ask Nina, sir, ' said Kate gravely. 

'Perhaps you are right, uncle, ' said Nina dreamily. 

'In which of my guesses--the first or the last?'

'Don't puzzle me, sir, for I have no head for a subtle distinction. I onlymeant to say it is not so easy to be in love without mistakes. You mistakerealities and traits for something not a bit like them, and you mistakeyourself by imagining that you mind them. '

'I don't think I understand you, ' said the old man. 

'Very likely not, sir. I do not know if I had a meaning that I couldexplain. '

'Nina wants to tell you, my lord, that the right man has not come forwardyet, and she does not know whether she'll keep the place open in her heartfor him any longer, ' said Dick, with a half-malicious glance. 

'That terrible Cousin Dick! nothing escapes him, ' said Nina, with a faintsmile. 

'Is there any more in the newspapers about that scandal of the Government?'cried the old man, turning to Kate. 

'Is there not going to be some inquiry as to whether his Excellency wroteto the Fenians?'

'There are a few words here, papa, ' cried Kate, opening the paper. '"Inreply to the question of Sir Barnes Malone as to the late communicationsalleged to have passed between the head of the Irish Government and thehead-centre of the Fenians, the Right Honourable the First Lord of theTreasury said, 'That the question would be more properly addressed tothe noble lord the Secretary for Ireland, who was not then in the House. Meanwhile, sir, ' continued he, 'I will take on myself the responsibility ofsaying that in this, as in a variety of other cases, the zeal of party hasgreatly outstripped the discretion that should govern political warfare. The exceptional state of a nation, in which the administration of justicemainly depends on those aids which a rigid morality might disparage--thesocial state of a people whose integrity calls for the application of meansthe most certain to disseminate distrust and disunion, are facts whichconstitute reasons for political action that, however assailable in themere abstract, the mind of statesmanlike form will at once accept as solidand effective, and to reject which would only show that, in over-lookingthe consequences of sentiment, a man can ignore the most vital interests ofhis country. '"'

'Does he say that they wrote to Donogan?' cried Kilgobbin, whose patiencehad been sorely pushed by the Premier's exordium. 

'Let me read on, papa. '

'Skip all that, and get down to a simple question and answer, Kitty; don'tread the long sentences. '

'This is how he winds up, papa. "I trust I have now, sir, satisfied theHouse that there are abundant reasons why this correspondence should not beproduced on the table, while I have further justified my noble friend for acourse of action in which the humanity of the man takes no lustre from theglory of the statesman"--then there are some words in Latin--"and the righthon. Gentleman resumed his seat amidst loud cheers, in which some of theOpposition were heard to join. "'

'I want to be told, after all, did they write the letter to say Donogan wasto be let escape?'

'Would it have been a great crime, uncle?' said Nina artlessly. 

'I'm not going into that. I'm only asking what the people over us say isthe best way to govern us. I'd like to know, once for all, what was wrongand what was right in Ireland. '

'Has not the Premier just told you, sir, ' replied Nina, 'that it is alwaysthe reverse of what obtains everywhere else?'

'I have had enough of it, anyhow, ' cried Dick, who, though not intendingit before, now was carried away by a momentary gust of passion to make theavowal. 

'Have you been in the Cabinet all this time, then, without our knowing it?'asked Nina archly. 

'It is not of the Cabinet I was speaking, mademoiselle. It was of thecountry. ' And he answered haughtily. 

'And where would you go, Dick, and find better?' said Kate. 

'Anywhere. I should find better in America, in Canada, in the Far West, inNew Zealand--but I mean to try in Australia. '

'And what will you do when you get there?' asked Kilgobbin, with a grimhumour in his look. 

'Do tell me, Cousin Dick, for who knows that it might not suit me also?'

Young Kearney filled his glass, and drained it without speaking. At lasthe said, 'It will be for you, sir, to say if I make the trial. It is clearenough, I have no course open to me here. For a few hundred pounds, or, indeed, for anything you like to give me, you get rid of me for ever. Itwill be the one piece of economy my whole life comprises. '

'Stay at home, Dick, and give to your own country the energy you arewilling to bestow on a strange land, ' said Kate. 

'And labour side by side with the peasant I have looked down upon since Iwas able to walk. '

'Don't look down on him, then--do it no longer. If you would treat thefirst stranger you met in the bush as your equal, begin the Christianpractice in your own country. '

'But he needn't do that at all, ' broke in the old man. 'If he would taketo strong shoes and early rising here at Kilgobbin, he need never go toGeelong for a living. Your great-grandfathers lived here for centuries, andthe old house that sheltered them is still standing. '

'What should I stay for--?' He had got thus far when his eyes met Nina's, and he stopped and hesitated, and, as a deep blush covered his face, faltered out, 'Gorman O'Shea says he is ready to go with me, and twofellows with less to detain them in their own country would be hard tofind. '

'O'Shea will do well enough, ' said the old man; 'he was not brought upto kid-leather boots and silk linings in his greatcoat. There's stuffin _him_, and if it comes to sleeping under a haystack or dining on ared-herring, he'll not rise up with rheumatism or heartburn. And what'sbetter than all, he'll not think himself a hero because he mends his ownboots or lights his own kitchen-fire. '

'A letter for your honour, ' said the servant, entering with a veryinformal-looking note on coarse paper, and fastened with a wafer. 'Thegossoon, sir, is waiting for an answer; he run every mile from Moate. '

'Read it, Kitty, ' said the old man, not heeding the servant's comment. 

'It is dated "Moate Jail, seven o'clock, "' said Kitty, as she read: '"DearSir, --I have got into a stupid scrape, and have been committed to jail. Will you come, or send some one to bail me out. The thing is a mere trifle, but the 'being locked up' is very hard to bear. --Yours always, G. O'Shea. "'

'Is this more Fenian work?' cried Kilgobbin. 

'I'm certain it is not, sir, ' said Dick. 'Gorman O'Shea has no likingfor them, nor is he the man to sympathise with what he owns he cannotunderstand. It is a mere accidental row. '

'At all events, we must see to set him at liberty. Order the gig, Dick, andwhile they are putting on the harness, I'll finish this decanter of port. If it wasn't that we're getting retired shopkeepers on the bench, we'd notsee an O'Shea sent to prison like a gossoon that stole a bunch of turnips. '

'What has he been doing, I wonder?' said Nina, as she drew her arm withinKate's and left the room. 

'Some loud talk in the bar-parlour, perhaps, ' was Kate's reply, and thetoss of her head as she said it implied more even than the words. 

CHAPTER LIV

HOW IT BEFELL

While Lord Kilgobbin and his son are plodding along towards Moate with ahorse not long released from the harrow, and over a road which the laterains had sorely damaged, the moment is not inopportune to explain thenature of the incident, small enough in its way, that called on them forthis journey at nightfall. It befell that when Miss Betty, indignant ather nephew's defection, and outraged that he should descend to call atKilgobbin, determined to cast him off for ever, she also resolved upon aproject over which she had long meditated, and to which the conversation ather late dinner greatly predisposed her. 

The growing unfertility of the land, the sturdy rejection of the authorityof the Church, manifested in so many ways by the people, had led MissO'Shea to speculate more on the insecurity of landed property in Irelandthan all the long list of outrages scheduled at assizes, or all the burninghaggards that ever flared in a wintry sky. Her notion was to retire intosome religious sisterhood, and away from life and its cares, to pass herremaining years in holy meditation and piety. She would have liked to havesold her estate and endowed some house or convent with the proceeds, butthere were certain legal difficulties that stood in the way, and herlaw-agent, McKeown, must be seen and conferred with about these. 

Her moods of passion were usually so very violent that she would stop atnothing; and in the torrent of her anger she would decide on a course ofaction which would colour a whole lifetime. On the present occasion herfirst step was to write and acquaint McKeown that she would be at Moodie'sHotel, Dominick Street, the same evening, and begged he might call there ateight or nine o'clock, as her business with him was pressing. Her next carewas to let the house and lands of O'Shea's Barn to Peter Gill, for the termof one year, at a rent scarcely more than nominal, the said Gill bindinghimself to maintain the gardens, the shrubberies, and all the ornamentalplantings in their accustomed order and condition. In fact, the extrememoderation of the rent was to be recompensed by the large space allottedto unprofitable land, and the great care he was pledged to exercise inits preservation; and while nominally the tenant, so manifold were theobligations imposed on him, he was in reality very little other thanthe caretaker of O'Shea's Barn and its dependencies. No fences wereto be altered, or boundaries changed. All the copses of young timberwere to be carefully protected by palings as heretofore, and even theornamental cattle--the shorthorns, and the Alderneys, and a few favourite'Kerries, '--were to be kept on the allotted paddocks; and to old Kattooherself was allotted a loose box, with a small field attached to it, whereshe might saunter at will, and ruminate over the less happy quadrupeds thathad to work for their subsistence. 

Now, though Miss Betty, in the full torrent of her anger, had that much ofmethod in her madness to remember the various details, whose interests werethe business of her daily life, and so far made provision for the future ofher pet cows and horses and dogs and guinea-fowls, so that if she shouldever resolve to return she should find all as she had left it, the shortpaper of agreement by which she accepted Gill as her tenant was drawn up byher own hand, unaided by a lawyer; and, whether from the intemperate hasteof the moment, or an unbounded confidence in Gill's honesty and fidelity, was not only carelessly expressed, but worded in a way that implied how hertrustfulness exonerated her from anything beyond the expression of what shewished for, and what she believed her tenant would strictly perform. Gill'srepeated phrase of 'Whatever her honour's ladyship liked' had followedevery sentence as she read the document aloud to him; and the only realpuzzle she had was to explain to the poor man's simple comprehension thatshe was not making a hard bargain with him, but treating him handsomely andin all confidence. 

Shrewd and sharp as the old lady was, versed in the habits of the people, and long trained to suspect a certain air of dulness, by which, when askingthe explanation of a point, they watch, with a native casuistry, to seewhat flaw or chink may open an equivocal meaning or intention, she wasthoroughly convinced by the simple and unreasoning concurrence this humbleman gave to every proviso, and the hearty assurance he always gave 'thather honour knew what was best. God reward and keep her long in the way todo it!'--with all this, Miss O'Shea had not accomplished the first stageof her journey to Dublin, when Peter Gill was seated in the office of PatMcEvoy, the attorney at Moate--smart practitioner, who had done more tofoster litigation between tenant and landlord than all the 'grievances'that ever were placarded by the press. 

'When did you get this, Peter?' said the attorney, as he looked about, unable to find a date. 

'This morning, sir, just before she started. '

'You'll have to come before the magistrate and make an oath of the date, and, by my conscience, it's worth the trouble. '

'Why, sir, what's in it?' cried Peter eagerly. 

'I'm no lawyer if she hasn't given you a clear possession of the place, subject to certain trusts, and even for the non-performance of these thereis no penalty attached. When Councillor Holmes comes down at the assizes, I'll lay a case before him, and I'll wager a trifle, Peter, you will turnout to be an estated gentleman. '

'Blood alive!' was all Peter could utter. 

Though the conversation that ensued occupied more than an hour, it is notnecessary that we should repeat what occurred, nor state more than the factthat Peter went home fully assured that if O'Shea's Barn was not his ownindisputably, it would be very hard to dispossess him, and that, at allevents, the occupation was secure to him for the present. The importancethat the law always attaches to possession Mr. McEvoy took care to impresson Gill's mind, and he fully convinced him that a forcible seizure of thepremises was far more to be apprehended than the slower process of a suitand a verdict. 

It was about the third week after this opinion had been given, when youngO'Shea walked over from Kilgobbin Castle to the Barn, intending to see hisaunt and take his farewell of her. 

Though he had steeled his heart against the emotion such a leave-taking waslikely to evoke, he was in nowise prepared for the feelings the old placeitself would call up, and as he opened a little wicket that led by ashrubbery walk to the cottage, he was glad to throw himself on the firstseat he could find and wait till his heart could beat more measuredly. What a strange thing was life--at least that conventional life we make forourselves--was his thought now. 'Here am I ready to cross the globe, to bethe servant, the labourer of some rude settler in the wilds of Australia, and yet I cannot be the herdsman here, and tend the cattle in the scenesthat I love, where every tree, every bush, every shady nook, and everyrunning stream is dear to me. I cannot serve my own kith and kin, but mustseek my bread from the stranger! This is our glorious civilisation. Ishould like to hear in what consists its marvellous advantage. '

And then he began to think of those men of whom he had oftenheard--gentlemen and men of refinement--who had gone out to Australia, andwho, in all the drudgery of daily labour--herding cattle on the plains orconducting droves of horses long miles of way--still managed to retain thehabits of their better days, and, by the instinct of the breeding, whichhad become a nature, to keep intact in their hearts the thoughts and thesympathies and the affections that made them gentlemen. 

'If my dear aunt only knew me as I know myself, she would let me stay hereand serve her as the humblest labourer on her land. I can see no indignityin being poor and faring hardly. I have known coarse food and coarseclothing, and I never found that they either damped my courage or soured mytemper. '

It might not seem exactly the appropriate moment to have bethought him ofthe solace of companionship in such poverty, but somehow his thoughts _did_take that flight, and unwarrantable as was the notion, he fancied himselfreturning at nightfall to his lowly cabin, and a certain girlish figure, whom our reader knows as Kate Kearney, standing watching for his coming. 

There was no one to be seen about as he approached the house. Thehall door, however, lay open. He entered and passed on to the littlebreakfast-parlour on the left. The furniture was the same as before, but acoarse fustian jacket was thrown on the back of a chair, and a clay-pipeand a paper of tobacco stood on the table. While he was examining theseobjects with some attention, a very ragged urchin, of some ten or elevenyears, entered the room with a furtive step, and stood watching him. Fromthis fellow, all that he could hear was that Miss Betty was gone away, and that Peter was at the Kilbeggan Market, and though he tried variousquestions, no other answers than these were to be obtained. Gorman nowtried to see the drawing-room and the library, but these, as well as thedining-room, were all locked. He next essayed the bedrooms, but with thesame unsuccess. At length he turned to his own well-known corner--thewell-remembered little 'green-room'--which he loved to think his own. Thistoo was locked, but Gorman remembered that by pressing the door underneathwith his walking-stick, he could lift the bolt from the old-fashionedreceptacle that held it, and open the door. Curious to have a last look ata spot dear by so many memories, he tried the old artifice and succeeded. 

He had still on his watch-chain the little key of an old marquetriecabinet, where he was wont to write, and now he was determined to write alast letter to his aunt from the old spot, and send her his good-bye fromthe very corner where he had often come to wish her 'good-night. '

He opened the window and walked out on the little wooden balcony, fromwhich the view extended over the lawn and the broad belt of wood thatfenced the demesne. The Sliebh Bloom Mountain shone in the distance, andin the calm of an evening sunlight the whole picture had something in itssilence and peacefulness of almost rapturous charm. 

Who is there amongst us that has not felt, in walking through the rooms ofsome uninhabited house, with every appliance of human comfort strewn about, ease and luxury within, wavy trees and sloping lawn or eddying waterswithout--who, in seeing all these, has not questioned himself as to whythis should be deserted? and why is there none to taste and feel all theblessedness of such a lot as life here should offer? Is not the world fullof these places? is not the puzzle of this query of all lands and of allpeoples? That ever-present delusion of what we should do--what be if wewere aught other than ourselves: how happy, how contented, how unrepining, and how good--ay, even our moral nature comes into the compact--thisdelusion, I say, besets most of us through life, and we never weary ofbelieving how cruelly fate has treated us, and how unjust destiny has beento a variety of good gifts and graces which are doomed to die unrecognisedand unrequited. 

I will not go to the length of saying that Gorman O'Shea's reflections wentthus far, though they did go to the extent of wondering why his aunt hadleft this lovely spot, and asked himself, again and again, where she couldpossibly have found anything to replace it. 

'My dearest aunt, ' wrote he, 'in my own old room at the dear old desk, andon the spot knitted to my heart by happiest memories, I sit down to sendyou my last good-bye ere I leave Ireland for ever. 

'It is in no mood of passing fretfulness or impatience that I resolve togo and seek my fortune in Australia. As I feel now, believing you aredispleased with me, I have no heart to go further into the question of myown selfish interests, nor say why I resolve to give up soldiering, and whyI turn to a new existence. Had I been to you what I have hitherto been, hadI the assurance that I possessed the old claim on your love which made meregard you as a dear mother, I should tell you of every step that has ledme to this determination, and how carefully and anxiously I tried to studywhat might be the turning-point of my life. '

When he had written thus far, and his eyes had already grown glassy withthe tears which would force their way across them, a heavy foot was heardon the stairs, the door was burst rudely open, and Peter Gill stood beforehim. 

No longer, however, the old peasant in shabby clothes, and with his lookhalf-shy, half-sycophant, but vulgarly dressed in broadcloth and brightbuttons, a tall hat on his head, and a crimson cravat round his neck. Hisface was flushed, and his eye flashing and insolent, so that O'Shea onlyfeebly recognised him by his voice. 

'You thought you'd be too quick for me, young man, ' said the fellow, andthe voice in its thickness showed he had been drinking, 'and that you woulddo your bit of writing there before I'd be back, but I was up to you. '

'I really do not know what you mean, ' cried O'Shea, rising; 'and as it isonly too plain you have been drinking, I do not care to ask you. '

'Whether I was drinking or no is my own business; there's none to call meto account now. I am here in my own house, and I order you to leave it, and if you don't go by the way you came in, by my soul you'll go by thatwindow!' A loud bang of his stick on the floor gave the emphasis to thelast words, and whether it was the action or the absurd figure of the manhimself overcame O'Shea, he burst out in a hearty laugh as he surveyed him. 'I'll make it no laughing matter to you, ' cried Gill, wild with passion, and stepping to the door he cried out, 'Come up, boys, every man of ye:come up and see the chap that's trying to turn me out of my holding. '

The sound of voices and the tramp of feet outside now drew O'Shea to thewindow, and passing out on the balcony, he saw a considerable crowd ofcountry-people assembled beneath. They were all armed with sticks, and hadthat look of mischief and daring so unmistakable in a mob. As the young manstood looking at them, some one pointed him out to the rest, and a wildyell, mingled with hisses, now broke from the crowd. He was turning awayfrom the spot in disgust when he found that Gill had stationed himself atthe window, and barred the passage. 

'The boys want another look at ye, ' said Gill insolently; 'go back and showyourself: it is not every day they see an informer. '

'Stand back, you old fool, and let me pass, ' cried O'Shea. 

'Touch me if you dare; only lay one finger on me in my own house, ' said thefellow, and he grinned almost in his face as he spoke. 

'Stand back, ' said Gorman, and suiting the action to the word, he raisedhis arm to make space for him to pass out. Gill, no sooner did he feel thearm graze his chest, than he struck O'Shea across the face; and thoughthe blow was that of an old man, the insult was so maddening that O'Shea, seizing him by the arms, dragged him out upon the balcony. 

'He's going to throw the old man over, ' cried several of those beneath, andamidst the tumult of voices, a number soon rushed up the stairs and outon the balcony, where the old fellow was clinging to O'Shea's legs in hisdespairing attempt to save himself. The struggle scarcely lasted manyseconds, for the rotten wood-work of the balcony creaked and trembled, and at last gave way with a crash, bringing the whole party to the groundtogether. 

[Illustration: The balcony creaked and trembled, and at last gave way]

A score of sticks rained their blows on the luckless young man, and eachtime that he tried to rise he was struck back and rolled over by a blow ora kick, till at length he lay still and senseless on the sward, his facecovered with blood and his clothes in ribbons. 

'Put him in a cart, boys, and take him off to the gaol, ' said the attorney, McEvoy. 'We'll be in a scrape about all this, if we don't make _him_ in thewrong. '

His audience fully appreciated the counsel, and while a few were busied incarrying old Gill to the house--for a broken leg made him unable to reachit alone--the others placed O'Shea on some straw in a cart, and set outwith him to Kilbeggan. 

'It is not a trespass at all, ' said McEvoy. 'I'll make it a burglary andforcible entry, and if he recovers at all, I'll stake my reputation Itransport him for seven years. '

A hearty murmur of approval met the speech, and the procession, with thecart at their head, moved on towards the town. 

CHAPTER LV

TWO J. P. 'S

It was the Tory magistrate, Mr. Flood--the same who had ransacked Walpole'scorrespondence--before whom the informations were sworn against GormanO'Shea, and the old justice of the peace was, in secret, not sorry to seethe question of land-tenure a source of dispute and quarrel amongst thevery party who were always inveighing against the landlords. 

When Lord Kilgobbin arrived at Kilbeggan it was nigh midnight, and asyoung O'Shea was at that moment a patient in the gaol infirmary, and soundasleep, it was decided between Kearney and his son that they would leavehim undisturbed till the following morning. 

Late as it was, Kearney was so desirous to know the exact narrative ofevents that he resolved on seeing Mr. Flood at once. Though Dick Kearneyremonstrated with his father, and reminded him that old Tom Flood, as hewas called, was a bitter Tory, had neither a civil word nor a kind thoughtfor his adversaries in politics, Kearney was determined not to be turnedfrom his purpose by any personal consideration, and being assured by theinnkeeper that he was sure to find Mr. Flood in his dining-room and overhis wine, he set out for the snug cottage at the entrance of the town, where the old justice of the peace resided. 

Just as he had been told, Mr. Flood was still in the dinner-room, andwith his guest, Tony Adams, the rector, seated with an array of decantersbetween them. 

'Kearney--Kearney!' cried Flood, as he read the card the servant handedhim. 'Is it the fellow who calls himself Lord Kilgobbin, I wonder?'

'Maybe so, ' growled Adams, in a deep guttural, for he disliked the effortof speech. 

'I don't know him, nor do I want to know him. He is one of yourhalf-and-half Liberals that, to my thinking, are worse than the rebelsthemselves! What is this here in pencil on the back of the card?' Mr. K. Begs to apologise for the hour of his intrusion, and earnestly entreats afew minutes from Mr. Flood. 'Show him in, Philip, show him in; and bringsome fresh glasses. '

Kearney made his excuses with a tact and politeness which spoke of a timewhen he mixed freely with the world, and old Flood was so astonished by theease and good-breeding of his visitor that his own manner became at oncecourteous and urbane. 

'Make no apologies about the hour, Mr. Kearney, ' said he. 'An oldbachelor's house is never very tight in discipline. Allow me to introduceMr. Adams, Mr. Kearney, the best preacher in Ireland, and as good a judgeof port wine as of theology. '

The responsive grunt of the parson was drowned in the pleasant laugh of theothers, as Kearney sat down and filled his glass. In a very few words herelated the reason of his visit to the town, and asked Mr. Flood to tellhim what he knew of the late misadventure. 

'Sworn information, drawn up by that worthy man, Pat McEvoy, the greatestrascal in Europe, and I hope I don't hurt you by saying it, Mr. Kearney. Sworn information of a burglarious entry, and an aggravated assault on thepremises and person of one Peter Gill, another local blessing--bad luckto him. The aforesaid--if I spoke of hi before--Gorman O'Shea, having, _suadente diabolo_, smashed down doors and windows, palisadingsand palings, and broke open cabinets, chests, cupboards, and othercontrivances. In a word, he went into another man's house, and when askedwhat he did there, he threw the proprietor out of the window. There's thewhole of it. '

'Where was the house?'

'O'Shea's Barn. '

'But surely O'Shea's Barn, being the residence and property of his aunt, there was no impropriety in his going there?'

'The informant states that the place was in the tenancy of this said Gill, one of your own people, Mr. Kearney. I wish you luck of him. '

'I disown him, root and branch; he is a disgrace to any side. And where isMiss Betty O'Shea?'

'In a convent or a monastery, they say. She has turned abbess or monk; but, upon my conscience, from the little I've seen of her, if a strong will anda plucky heart be the qualifications, she might be the Pope!'

'And are the young man's injuries serious? Is he badly hurt? for they wouldnot let me see him at the gaol. '

'Serious, I believe they are. He is cut cruelly about the face and head, and his body bruised all over. The finest peasantry have a taste forkicking with strong brogues on them, Mr. Kearney, that cannot be equalled. '

'I wish with all my heart they'd kick the English out of Ireland!' criedKearney, with a savage energy. 

''Faith! if they go on governing us in the present fashion, I do not sayI'll make any great objection. Eh, Adams?'

'Maybe so!' was the slow and very guttural reply, as the fat man crossedhis hands on his waistcoat. 

'I'm sick of them all, Whigs and Tories, ' said Kearney. 

Is not every Irish gentleman sick of them, Mr. Kearney? Ain't you sickof being cheated and cajoled, and ain't _we_ sick of being cheated andinsulted? They seek to conciliate _you_ by outraging _us_. Don't you thinkwe could settle our own differences better amongst ourselves? It wasPhilpot Curran said of the fleas in Manchester, that if they'd all pulledtogether, they'd have pulled him out of bed. Now, Mr. Kearney, what if weall took to "pulling together?"'

'We cannot get rid of the notion that we'd be out-jockeyed, ' said Kearneyslowly. 

'We _know_, ' cried the other, 'that we should be out-numbered, and that isworse. Eh, Adams?'

'Ay!' sighed Adams, who did not desire to be appealed to by either side. 

'Now we're alone here, and no eavesdropper near us, tell me fairly, Kearney, are you better because we are brought down in the world? Are youricher--are you greater--are you happier?'

'I believe we are, Mr. Flood, and I'll tell you why I say so. '

I'll be shot if I hear you, that's all. Fill your glass. That's old portthat John Beresford tasted in the Custom-House Docks seventy-odd years ago, and you are the only Whig living that ever drank a drop of it!'

'I am proud to be the first exception, and I go so far as to believe--Ishall not be the last!'

'I'll send a few bottles over to that boy in the infirmary. It cannot butbe good for him, ' said Flood. 

'Take care, for Heaven's sake, if he be threatened with inflammation. Donothing without the doctor's leave. '

'I wonder why the people who are so afraid of inflammation, are so fond ofrebellion, ' said he sarcastically. 

'Perhaps I could tell you that, too--'

'No, do not--do not, I beseech you; reading the Whig Ministers' speecheshas given me such a disgust to all explanations, I'd rather concedeanything than hear how it could be defended! Apparently Mr. Disraeli is ofmy mind also, for he won't support Paul Hartigan's motion. '

'What was Hartigan's motion?'

'For the papers, or the correspondence, or whatever they called it, thatpassed between Danesbury and Dan Donogan. '

'But there was none. '

'Is that all you know of it? They were as thick as two thieves. It was"Dear Dane" and "Dear Dan" between them. "Stop the shooting. We want alight calendar at the summer assizes, " says one. "You shall have fortythousand pounds yearly for a Catholic college, if the House will let us. ""Thank you for nothing for the Catholic college, " says Dan. "We want ourown Parliament and our own militia; free pardon for political offences. "What would you say to a bill to make landlord-shooting manslaughter, Mr. Kearney?'

'Justifiable homicide, Mr. Bright called it years ago, but the judgesdidn't see it. '

'This Danesbury "muddle, " for that is the name they give it, will be hushedup, for he has got some Tory connections, and the lords are never hard onone of their "order, " so I hear. Hartigan is to be let have his talk outin the House, and as he is said to be violent and indiscreet, the PrimeMinister will only reply to the violence and the indiscretion, and hewill conclude by saying that the noble Viceroy has begged Her Majesty torelease him of the charge of the Irish Government; and though the Cabinethave urgently entreated him to remain and carry out the wise policy ofconciliation so happily begun in Ireland, he is rooted in his resolve, andhe will not stay; and there will be cheers; and when he adds that Mr. CecilWalpole, having shown his great talents for intrigue, will be sent backto the fitting sphere--his old profession of diplomacy--there will belaughter; for as the Minister seldom jokes, the House will imagine this tobe a slip, and then, with every one in good humour--but Paul Hartigan, whowill have to withdraw his motion--the right honourable gentleman will sitdown, well pleased at his afternoon's work. '

Kearney could not but laugh at the sketch of a debate given with all themimicry of tone and mock solemnity of an old debater, and the two men nowbecame, by the bond of their geniality, like old acquaintances. 

'Ah, Mr. Kearney, I won't say we'd do it better on College Green, butwe'd do it more kindly, more courteously, and, above all, we'd be lesshypocritical in our inquiries. I believe we try to cheat the devil inIreland just as much as our neighbours. But we don't pretend that we arearch-bishops all the time we're doing it. There's where we differ from theEnglish. '

'And who is to govern us, ' cried Kearney, ' if we have no Lord-Lieutenant?'

'The Privy Council, the Lords Justices, or maybe the Board of Works, whoknows? When you are going over to Holyhead in the packet, do you ever askif the man at the wheel is decent, or a born idiot, and liable to fits? Nota bit of it. You know that there are other people to look to this, and youtrust, besides, that they'll land you all safe. '

'That's true, ' said Kearney, and he drained his glass; 'and now tell me onething more. How will it go with young O'Shea about this scrimmage, will itbe serious?'

'Curtis, the chief constable, says it will be an ugly affair enough. They'll swear hard, and they'll try to make out a title to the land throughthe action of trespass; and if, as I hear, the young fellow is a scamp anda bad lot--'

'Neither one nor the other, ' broke in Kearney; 'as fine a boy and asthorough a gentleman as there is in Ireland. '

'And a bit of a Fenian, too, ' slowly interposed Flood. 

'Not that I know; I'm not sure that he follows the distinctions of partyhere; he is little acquainted with Ireland. '

'Ho, ho! a Yankee sympathiser?'

'Not even that; an Austrian soldier, a young lieutenant of lancers overhere for his leave. '

'And why couldn't he shoot, or course, or kiss the girls, or play atfootball, and not be burning his fingers with the new land-laws? There'splenty of ways to amuse yourself in Ireland, without throwing a man out ofwindow; eh, Adams?'

And Adams bowed his assent, but did not utter a word. 

'You are not going to open more wine?' remonstrated Kearney eagerly. 

'It's done. Smell that, Mr. Kearney, ' cried Flood, as he held out afresh-drawn cork at the end of the screw. 'Talk to me of clove-pinks andviolets and carnations after that? I don't know whether you have anyprayers in your church against being led into temptation. '

'Haven't we!' sighed the other. 

'Then all I say is, Heaven help the people at Oporto; they'll have more toanswer for even than most men. '

It was nigh dawn when they parted, Kearney muttering to himself as hesauntered back to the inn, 'If port like that is the drink of the Tories, they must be good fellows with all their prejudices. '

'I'll be shot if I don't like that rebel, ' said Flood as he went to bed. 

CHAPTER LVI

BEFORE THE DOOR

Though Lord Kilgobbin, when he awoke somewhat late in the afternoon, didnot exactly complain of headache, he was free to admit that his facultieswere slightly clouded, and that his memory was not to the desired extentretentive of all that passed on the preceding night. Indeed, beyond thefact--which he reiterated with great energy--that 'old Flood, Tory thoughhe was, was a good fellow, an excellent fellow, and had a marvellous binof port wine, ' his son Dick was totally unable to get any information fromhim. 'Bigot, if you like, or Blue Protestant, and all the rest of it; buta fine hearty old soul, and an Irishman to the heart's core!' That was thesum of information which a two hours' close cross-examination elicited; andDick was sulkily about to leave the room in blank disappointment when theold man suddenly amazed him by asking: 'And do you tell me that you havebeen lounging about the town all the morning and have learned nothing? Wereyou down to the gaol? Have you seen O'Shea? What's _his_ account of it?Who began the row? Has he any bones broken? Do you know anything at all?'cried he, as the blank look of the astonished youth seemed to imply utterignorance, as well as dismay. 

'First of all, ' said Dick, drawing a long breath, 'I have not seen O'Shea;nobody is admitted to see him. His injuries about the head are so severethe doctors are in dread of erysipelas. '

'What if he had? Have not every one of us had the erysipelas some time orother; and, barring the itching, what's the great harm?'

'The doctors declare that if it come, they will not answer for his life. '

'They know best, and I'm afraid they know why also. Oh dear, oh dear!if there's anything the world makes no progress in, it's the science ofmedicine. Everybody now dies of what we all used to have when I was a boy!Sore throats, smallpox, colic, are all fatal since they've found out Greeknames for them, and with their old vulgar titles they killed nobody. '

'Gorman is certainly in a bad way, and Dr. Rogan says it will be some daysbefore he could pronounce him out of danger. '

'Can he be removed? Can we take him back with us to Kilgobbin?'

'That is utterly out of the question; he cannot be stirred, and requiresthe most absolute rest and quiet. Besides that, there is anotherdifficulty--I don't know if they would permit us to take him away. '

'What! do you mean, refuse our bail?'

'They have got affidavits to show old Gill's life's in danger; he is inhigh fever to-day, and raving furiously, and if he should die, McEvoydeclares that they'll be able to send bills for manslaughter, at least, before the grand-jury. '

'There's more of it!' cried Kilgobbin, with a long whistle. 'Is it Roganswears the fellow is in danger?'

'No, it's Tom Price, the dispensary doctor; and as Miss Betty withdrew hersubscription last year, they say he swore he'd pay her off for it. '

'I know Tom, and I'll see to that, ' said Kearney. 'Are the affidavitssworn?'

'No. They are drawn out; McEvoy is copying them now; but they'll be readyby three o'clock. '

'I'll have Rogan to swear that the boy must be removed at once. We'lltake him over with us; and once at Kilgobbin, they'll want a regiment ofsoldiers if they mean to take him. It is nigh twelve o'clock now, is itnot?'

'It is on the stroke of two, sir. '

'Is it possible? I believe I overslept myself in the strange bed. Be alivenow, Dick, and take the 2. 40 train to town. Call on McKeown, and find outwhere Miss Betty is stopping; break this business to her gently--for withall that damnable temper, she has a fine womanly heart--tell her the poorboy was not to blame at all: that he went over to see her, and knew nothingof the place being let out or hired; and tell her, besides, that theblackguards that beat him were not her own people at all, but villains fromanother barony that old Gill brought over to work on short wages. Mind thatyou say that, or we'll have more law, and more trouble--notices to quit, and the devil knows what. I know Miss Betty well, and she'd not leave a manon a town-land if they raised a finger against one of her name! There now, you know what to do: go and do it!'

To hear the systematic and peremptory manner in which the old man detailedall his directions, one would have pronounced him a model of orderlyarrangement and rule. Having despatched Dick to town, however, he beganto bethink him of all the matters on which he was desirous to learn MissO'Shea's mind. Had she really leased the Barn to this man Gill: and if so, for what term? And was her quarrel with her nephew of so serious a naturethat she might hesitate as to taking his side here--at least, till she knewhe was in the right; and then, was he in the right? That was, though thelast, the most vital consideration of all. 

'I'd have thought of all these if the boy had not flurried me so. Thesehot-headed fellows have never room in their foolish brains for anythinglike consecutive thought; they can just entertain the one idea, and tillthey dismiss that, they cannot admit another. Now, he'll come back by thenext train, and bring me the answer to one of my queries, if even that?'sighed he, as he went on with his dressing. 

'All this blessed business, ' muttered he to himself, 'comes of thisblundering interference with the land-laws. Paddy hears that they havegiven him some new rights and privileges, and no mock-modesty of his ownwill let him lose any of them, and so he claims everything. Old experiencehad taught him that with a bold heart and a blunderbuss he need not paymuch rent; but Mr. Gladstone--long life to him--had said, "We must dosomething for you. " Now what could that be? He'd scarcely go so far as togive them out Minié rifles or Chassepots, though arms of precision, as theycall them, would have put many a poor fellow out of pain--as Bob Magrathsaid when he limped into the public-house with a ball in his back--"It'sonly a 'healing measure, ' don't make a fuss about it. "'

'Mr. Flood wants to see your honour when you're dressed, ' said the waiter, interrupting his soliloquy. 

'Where is he?'

'Walking up and down, sir, forenent the door. '

'Will ye say I'm coming down? I'm just finishing a letter to theLord-Lieutenant, ' said Kilgobbin, with a sly look to the man, who returnedthe glance with its rival, and then left the room. 

'Will you not come in and sit down?' said Kearney, as he cordially shookFlood's hand. 

'I have only five minutes to stay, and with your leave, Mr. Kearney, we'llpass it here'; and taking the other's arm, he proceeded to walk up and downbefore the door of the inn. 

'You know Ireland well--few men better, I am told--and you have no need, therefore, to be told how the rumoured dislikes of party, the reportedjealousies and rancours of this set to that, influence the world here. It will be a fine thing, therefore, to show these people here that theLiberal, Mr. Kearney, and that bigoted old Tory, Tom Flood, were to be seenwalking together, and in close confab. It will show them, at all events, that neither of us wants to make party capital out of this scrimmage, andthat he who wants to affront one of us, cannot, on that ground, at least, count upon the other. Just look at the crowd that is watching us already!There 'a a fellow neglecting the sale of his pig to stare at us, and thatyoung woman has stopped gartering her stocking for the last two minutes insheer curiosity about us. '

[Illustration: 'Just look at the crowd that is watching us already']

Kearney laughed heartily as he nodded assent. 

'You follow me, don't you?' asked Flood. 'Well, then, grant me the favourI'm about to ask, and it will show me that you see all these things asI do. This row may turn out more seriously than we thought for. Thatscoundrel Gill is in a high fever to-day--I would not say that just out ofspite the fellow would not die. Who knows if it may not become a great caseat the assizes; and if so, Kearney, let us have public opinion with us. There are scores of men who will wait to hear what you and I say of thisbusiness. There are hundreds more who will expect us to disagree. Letus prove to them that this is no feud between Orange and Green, this isnothing of dispute between Whig and Tory, or Protestant and Papist; buta free fight, where, more shame to them, fifty fell upon one. Now whatyou must grant me is leave to send this boy back to Kilgobbin in my owncarriage, and with my own liveries. There is not a peasant cutting turfon the bog will not reason out his own conclusions when he sees it. Don'trefuse me, for I have set my heart on it. '

'I'm not thinking of refusing. I was only wondering to myself what mydaughter Kitty will say when she sees me sitting behind the blue and orangeliveries. '

'You may send me back with the green flag over me the next day I dine withyou, ' cried Flood, and the compact was ratified. 

'It is more than half-past already, ' said Flood. 'We are to have a fullbench at three; so be ready to give your bail, and I'll have the carriageat the corner of the street, and you shall set off with the boy at once. '

'I must say, ' said Kearney, 'whatever be your Tory faults, lukewarmness isnot one of them! You stand to me like an old friend in all this trouble. '

'Maybe it's time to begin to forget old grudges. Kearney, I believe in myheart neither of us is as bad as the other thinks him. Are you aware thatthey are getting affidavits to refuse the bail?'

'I know it all; but I have sent a man to McEvoy about a case that will takeall his morning; and he'll be too late with his affidavits. '

'By the time he is ready, you and your charge will be snug in Kilgobbin;and another thing, Kearney--for I have thought of the whole matter--you'lltake out with you that little vermin Price, the doctor, and treat himwell. He'll be as indiscreet as you wish, and be sure to give him theopportunity. There, now, give me your most affectionate grasp of the hand, for there's an attentive public watching us. '

CHAPTER LVII

A DOCTOR

Young O'Shea made the journey from Kilbeggan to Kilgobbin Castle in totalunconsciousness. The symptoms had now taken the form which doctors callconcussion; and though to a first brief question he was able to replyreasonably and well, the effort seemed so exhausting that to all subsequentqueries he appeared utterly indifferent; nor did he even by lookacknowledge that he heard them. 

Perfect and unbroken quiet was enjoined as his best, if not his only, remedy; and Kate gave up her own room for the sick man, as that most remotefrom all possible disturbance, and away from all the bustle of the house. The doctors consulted on his case in the fashion that a country physicianof eminence condescends to consult with a small local practitioner. Dr. Rogan pronounced his opinion, prophetically declared the patient in danger, and prescribed his remedies, while Price, agreeing with everything, andeven slavishly abject in his manner of concurrence, went about amongst theunderlings of the household saying, 'There's two fractures of the frontalbone. It's trepanned he ought to be; and when there's an inquest on thebody, I'll declare I said so. '

Though nearly all the care of providing for the sick man's nursing fellto Kate Kearney, she fulfilled the duty without attracting any noticewhatever, or appearing to feel as if any extra demand were made upon hertime or her attention; so much so, that a careless observer might havethought her far more interested in providing for the reception of the auntthan in cares for the nephew. 

Dick Kearney had written to say that Miss Betty was so overwhelmed withaffliction at young Gorman's mishap that she had taken to bed, and couldnot be expected to be able to travel for several days. She insisted, however, on two telegrams daily to report on the boy's case, and askedwhich of the great Dublin celebrities of physic should be sent down to seehim. 

'They're all alike to me, ' said Kilgobbin; 'but if I was to choose, I thinkI'd say Dr. Chute. '

This was so far unlucky, since Dr. Chute had then been dead about fortyyears; scarcely a junior of the profession having so much as heard hisname. 

'We really want no one, ' said Rogan. 'We are doing most favourably in everyrespect. If one of the young ladies would sit and read to him, but notconverse, it would be a service. He made the request himself this morning, and I promised to repeat it. '

A telegram, however, announced that Sir St. Xavier Brennan would arrivethe same evening, and as Sir X. Was physician-in-chief to the nuns of theBleeding Heart, there could be little doubt whose orthodoxy had chosen him. 

He came at nightfall--a fat, comely-looking, somewhat unctuous gentleman, with excellent teeth and snow-white hands, symmetrical and dimpled like awoman's. He saw the patient, questioned him slightly, and divined withoutwaiting for it what the answer should be; he was delighted with Rogan, pleased with Price, but he grew actually enthusiastic over those charmingnurses, Nina and Kate. 

'With such sisters of charity to tend me, I'd consent to pass my life as aninvalid, ' cried he. 

Indeed, to listen to him, it would seem that, whether from the salubrityof the air, the peaceful quietude of the spot, the watchful kindnessand attention of the surrounders, or a certain general air--an actualatmosphere of benevolence and contentment around--there was no pleasure oflife could equal the delight of being laid up at Kilgobbin. 

'I have a message for you from my old friend Miss O'Shea, ' said he to Katethe first moment he had the opportunity of speaking with her alone. 'Itis not necessary to tell you that I neither know, nor desire to know, itsimport. Her words were these: "Tell my godchild to forgive me if she stillhas any memory for some very rude words I once spoke. Tell her that Ihave been sorely punished for them since, and that till I know I have herpardon, I have no courage to cross her doors. " This was my message, and Iwas to bring back your answer. '

'Tell her, ' cried Kate warmly, 'I have no place in my memory but for thekindnesses she has bestowed on me, and that I ask no better boon fromFortune than to be allowed to love her, and to be worthy of her love. '

'I will repeat every word you have told me; and I am proud to be bearerof such a speech. May I presume, upon the casual confidence I have thusacquired, to add one word for myself; and it is as the doctor I wouldspeak. '

'Speak freely. What is it?'

'It is this, then: you young ladies keep your watches in turn in thesick-room. The patient is unfit for much excitement, and as I dare not takethe liberty of imposing a line of conduct on Mademoiselle Kostalergi, Ihave resolved to run the hazard with _you_! Let _hers_ be the task ofentertaining him; let _her_ be the reader--and he loves being read to--andthe talker, and the narrator of whatever goes on. To you be the part ofquiet watchfulness and care, to bathe the heated brow, or the burning hand, to hold the cold cup to the parched lips, to adjust the pillow, to temperthe light, and renew the air of the sick-room, but to speak seldom, if atall. Do you understand me?'

'Perfectly; and you are wise and acute in your distribution of labour: eachof us has her fitting station. '

'I dared not have said this much to _her_: my doctor's instinct told me Imight be frank with _you_. '

'You are safe in speaking to me, ' said she calmly. 

'Perhaps I ought to say that I give these suggestions without any concertwith my patient. I have not only abstained from consulting, but--'

'Forgive my interrupting you, Sir X. It was quite unnecessary to tell methis. '

'You are not displeased with me, dear lady?' said he, in his softest ofaccents. 

'No; but do not say anything which might make me so. '

The doctor bowed reverentially, crossed his white hands on his waistcoat, and looked like a saint ready for martyrdom. 

Kate frankly held out her hand in token of perfect cordiality, and herhonest smile suited the action well. 

'Tell Miss Betty that our sick charge shall not be neglected, but that wewant her here herself to help us. '

'I shall report your message word for word, ' said he, as he withdrew. 

As the doctor drove back to Dublin, he went over a variety of things inhis thoughts. There were serious disturbances in the provinces; thoseugly outrages which forerun long winter nights, and make the last days ofOctober dreary and sad-coloured. Disorder and lawlessness were abroad; andthat want of something remedial to be done which, like the thirst in fever, is fostered and fed by partial indulgence. Then he had some puzzling casesin hospital, and one or two in private practice, which harassed him; forsome had reached that critical stage where a false move would be fatal, and it was far from clear which path should be taken. Then there was thatmatter of Miss O'Shea herself, who, if her nephew were to die, would mostlikely endow that hospital in connection with the Bleeding Heart, andof which he was himself the founder; and that this fate was by no meansimprobable, Sir X. Persuaded himself, as he counted over all the differentstages of peril that stood between him and convalescence. 'We have now theconcussion, with reasonable prospect of meningitis; and there may come onerysipelas from the scalp wounds, and high fever, with all its dangers;next there may be a low typhoid state, with high nervous excitement;and through all these the passing risks of the wrong food or drink, theimprudent revelations, or the mistaken stimulants. Heigh-ho!' said he atlast, 'we come through storm and shipwreck, forlorn-hopes, and burningvillages, and we succumb to ten drops too much of a dark-brown liquor, orthe improvident rashness that reads out a note to us incautiously!

'Those young ladies thought to mystify me, ' said he aloud, after a longreverie. 'I was not to know which of them was in love with the sick boy. Icould make nothing of the Greek, I own, for, except a half-stealthyregard for myself, she confessed to nothing, and the other was nearly asinscrutable. It was only the little warmth at last that betrayed her. Ihurt her pride, and as she winced, I said, "There's the sore spot--there'smischief there!" How the people grope their way through life who have neverstudied physic nor learned physiology is a puzzle to _me_! With all its aidand guidance I find humanity quite hard enough to understand every day Ilive. '

Even in his few hours' visit--in which he remarked everything, from thedress of the man who waited at dinner, to the sherry decanter with thesmashed stopper, the weak 'Gladstone' that did duty as claret, and thecotton lace which Nina sported as 'point d'Alençon, ' and numberless othershifts, such as people make who like to play false money with Fortune--allthese he saw, and he saw that a certain jealous rivalry existed between thetwo girls; but whether either of them, or both, cared for young O'Shea, hecould not declare; and, strange as it may seem, his inability to determinethis weighed upon him with all the sense of a defeat. 

CHAPTER LVIII

IN TURKEY

Leaving the sick man to the tender care of those ladies whose division oflabour we have just hinted at, we turn to other interests, and to one ofour characters, who, though to all seeming neglected, has not lapsed fromour memory. 

Joe Atlee had been despatched on a very confidential mission by LordDanesbury. Not only was he to repossess himself of certain papers he hadnever heard of, from a man he had never seen, but he was also to impressthis unknown individual with the immense sense of fidelity to another whono longer had any power to reward him, and besides this, to persuade him, being a Greek, that the favour of a great ambassador of England was betterthan roubles of gold and vases of malachite. 

Modern history has shown us what a great aid to success in life is thecontribution of a 'light heart, ' and Joe Atlee certainly brought thiselement of victory along with him on his journey. 

His instructions were assuredly of the roughest. To impress Lord Danesburyfavourably on the score of his acuteness he must not press for details, seek for explanations, and, above all, he must ask no questions. In fact, to accomplish that victory which he ambitioned for his cleverness, and onwhich his Excellency should say, 'Atlee saw it at once--Atlee caught thewhole thing at a glance, ' Joe must be satisfied with the least definitedirections that ever were issued, and the most confused statement of dutiesand difficulties that ever puzzled a human intelligence. Indeed, as hehimself summed up his instructions in his own room, they went no furtherthan this: That there was a Greek, who, with a number of other names, wasoccasionally called Speridionides--a great scoundrel, and with everygood reason for not being come at--who was to be found somewhere inStamboul--probably at the bazaar at nightfall. He was to be bullied, or bribed, or wheedled, or menaced, to give up some letters which LordDanesbury had once written to him, and to pledge himself to completesecrecy as to their contents ever after. From this Greek, whose perfectconfidence Atlee was to obtain, he was to learn whether Kulbash Pasha, Lord Danesbury's sworn friend and ally, was not lapsing from his Englishalliance and inclining towards Russian connections. To Kulbash himselfAtlee had letters accrediting him as the trusted and confidential agent ofLord Danesbury, and with the Pasha, Joe was instructed to treat with anair and bearing of unlimited trustfulness. He was also to mention that hisExcellency was eager to be back at his old post as ambassador, that heloved the country, the climate, his old colleagues in the Sultan's service, and all the interests and questions that made up their political life. 

Last of all, Atlee was to ascertain every point on which any successor toLord Danesbury was likely to be mistaken, and how a misconception might beingeniously widened into a grave blunder; and by what means such incidentsshould be properly commented on by the local papers, and unfavourablecomparisons drawn between the author of these measures and 'the great andenlightened statesman' who had so lately left them. 

In a word, Atlee saw that he was to personate the character of a mostunsuspecting, confiding young gentleman, who possessed a certain naturalaptitude for affairs of importance, and that amount of discretion suchas suited him to be employed confidentially; and to perform this part headdressed himself. 

The Pasha liked him so much that he invited him to be his guest while heremained at Constantinople, and soon satisfied that he was a guilelessyouth fresh to the world and its ways, he talked very freely before him, and affecting to discuss mere possibilities, actually sketched events andconsequences which Atlee shrewdly guessed to be all within the range ofcasualties. 

Lord Danesbury's post at Constantinople had not been filled up, except bythe appointment of a Chargé-d'Affaires; it being one of the approved modesof snubbing a government to accredit a person of inferior rank to itscourt. Lord Danesbury detested this man with a hate that only officiallife comprehends, the mingled rancour, jealousy, and malice suggested by asuccessor, being a combination only known to men who serve their country. 

'Find out what Brumsey is doing; he is said to be doing wrong. He knowsnothing of Turkey. Learn his blunders, and let me know them. '

This was the easiest of all Atlee's missions, for Brumsey was the weakestand most transparent of all imbecile Whigs. A junior diplomatist of smallfaculties and great ambitions, he wanted to do something, not being clearas to what, which should startle his chiefs, and make 'the Office' exclaim:'See what Sam Brumsey has been doing! Hasn't Brumsey hit the nail on thehead! Brumsey's last despatch is the finest state-paper since the days ofCanning!' Now no one knew the short range of this man's intellectualtether better than Lord Danesbury--since Brumsey had been his own privatesecretary once, and the two men hated each other as only a haughty superiorand a craven dependant know how to hate. 

The old ambassador was right. Russian craft had dug many a pitfall for theEnglish diplomatist, and Brumsey had fallen into every one of them. Actingon secret information--all ingeniously prepared to entrap him--Brumsey haddiscovered a secret demand made by Russia to enable one of the imperialfamily to make the tour of the Black Sea with a ship-of-war. Though itmight be matter of controversy whether Turkey herself could, without theassent of the other Powers to the Treaty of Paris, give her permission, Brumsey was too elated by his discovery to hesitate about this, but at oncecommunicated to the Grand-Vizier a formal declaration of the displeasurewith which England would witness such an infraction of a solemn engagement. 

As no such project had ever been entertained, no such demand ever made, Kulbash Pasha not only laughed heartily at the mock-thunder of theEnglishman, but at the energy with which a small official always opensfire, and in the jocularity of his Turkish nature--for they are jocular, these children of the Koran--he told the whole incident to Atlee. 

'Your old master, Mr. Atlee, ' said he, 'would scarcely have read us sosharp a lesson as that; but, ' he added, 'we always hear stronger languagefrom the man who couldn't station a gunboat at Pera than from theambassador who could call up the Mediterranean squadron from Malta. '

If Atlee's first letter to Lord Danesbury admitted of a certaindisappointment as regarded Speridionides, it made ample compensation by thekeen sketch it conveyed of how matters stood at the Porte, the uncertainfate of Kulbash Pasha's policy, and the scarcely credible blunder ofBrumsey. 

To tell the English ambassador how much he was regretted and how muchneeded, how the partisans of England felt themselves deserted and abandonedby his withdrawal, and how gravely the best interests of Turkey itself werecompromised for want of that statesmanlike intelligence that had up to thisguided the counsels of the Divan: all these formed only a part of Atlee'stask, for he wrote letters and leaders, in this sense, to all the greatjournals of London, Paris, and Vienna; so that when the _Times_ and the_Post_ asked the English people whether they were satisfied that thebenefit of the Crimean War should be frittered away by an incompetent youthin the position of a man of high ability, the _Débats_ commented on thewant of support France suffered at the Porte by the inferior agency ofEngland, and the _Neue Presse_ of Vienna more openly declared that ifEngland had determined to annex Turkey and govern it as a crown colony, itwould have been at least courtesy to have informed her co-signatories ofthe fact. 

At the same time, an Irish paper in the National interest quietly desiredto be informed how was it that the man who made such a mull of Irelandcould be so much needed in Turkey, aided by a well-known fellow-citizen, more celebrated for smashing lamps and wringing off knockers than foradministering the rights of a colony; and by which of his services, ballad-writing or beating the police, he had gained the favour of thepresent Cabinet. 'In fact, ' concluded the writer, 'if we hear more ofthis appointment, we promise our readers some biographical memoirs of therespected individual, which may serve to show the rising youth of Irelandby what gifts success in life is most surely achieved, as well as whatpeculiar accomplishments find most merit with the grave-minded men who ruleus. '

A Cork paper announced on the same day, amongst the promotions, that JosephAtlee had been made C. B. , and mildly inquired if the honour were bestowedfor that paper on Ireland in the last _Quarterly_, and dryly wound up bysaying, 'We are not selfish, whatever people may say of us. Our friendson the Bosporus shall have the noble lord cheap! Let his Excellency onlyassure us that he will return with his whole staff, and not leave us Mr. Cecil Walpole, or any other like incapacity, behind him, as a directorof the Poor-Law Board, or inspector-general of gaols, ordeputy-assistant-secretary anywhere, and we assent freely to the changethat sends this man to the East and leaves us here to flounder on with suchaids to our mistakes as a Liberal Government can safely afford to spareus. '

A paragraph in another part of the same paper, which asked if the JosephAtlee who, it was rumoured, was to go out as Governor to Labuan, could bethis man, had, it is needless to say, been written by himself. 

The _Levant Herald_ contented itself with an authorised contradiction tothe report that Sir Joseph Atlee--the Sir was an ingenious blunder--hadconformed to Islamism, and was in treaty for the palace of Tashkir Bey atTherapia. 

With a neatness and tact all his own, Atlee narrated Brumsey's blunder in atone so simple and almost deferential, that Lord Danesbury could show theletter to any of his colleagues. The whole spirit of the document wasregret that a very well-intentioned gentleman of good connectionsand irreproachable morals should be an ass! Not that he employed theinsufferable designation. 

The Cabinet at home were on thorns lest the press--the vile Toryorgans--should get wind of the case and cap the blundering government ofIreland with the almost equally gross mistake in diplomacy. 

'We shall have the _Standard_ at us, ' said the Premier. 

'Far worse, ' replied the Foreign Secretary. 'I shall have Brunow here ina white passion to demand an apology and the recall of our man atConstantinople. '

To accuse a well-known housebreaker of a burglary that he had notcommitted, nor had any immediate thought of committing, is the veryluckiest stroke of fortune that could befall him. He comes out not aloneinnocent, but injured. The persecutions by which bad men have assailed himfor years have at last their illustration, and the calumniated saint walksforth into the world, his head high and his port erect, even though acrowbar should peep out from his coat-pocket and the jingle of false keysgo with him as he went. 

Far too astute to make the scandal public by the newspapers, Atlee onlyhinted to his chief the danger that might ensue if the secret leaked out. He well knew that a press scandal is a nine-day fever, but a menacedpublicity is a chronic malady that may go on for years. 

The last lines of his letter were: 'I have made a curious and interestingacquaintance--a certain Stephanotis Bey, governor of Scutari in Albania, avery venerable old fellow, who was never at Constantinople till now. ThePasha tells me in confidence that he is enormously wealthy. His fortunewas made by brigandage in Greece, from which he retired a few years ago, shocked by the sudden death of his brother, who was decapitated at Corinthwith five others. The Bey is a nice, gentle-mannered, simple-hearted oldman, kind to the poor, and eminently hospitable. He has invited me downto Prevesa for the pig-shooting. If I have your permission to accept theinvitation, I shall make a rapid visit to Athens, and make one moreeffort to discover Speridionides. Might I ask the favour of an answer bytelegraph? So many documents and archives were stolen here at the time ofthe fire of the Embassy, that, by a timely measure of discredit, we canimpair the value of all papers whatever, and I have already a mass of falsedespatches, notes, and telegrams ready for publication, and subsequentdenial, if you advise it. In one of these I have imitated Walpole's styleso well that I scarcely think he will read it without misgivings. With somuch "bad bank paper" in circulation, Speridionides is not likely to set ahigh price on his own scrip. '

CHAPTER LIX

A LETTER-BAG

Lord Danesbury read Atlee's letter with an enjoyment not unlike the feelingan old sportsman experiences in discovering that his cover hack--an animalnot worth twenty pounds--was a capital fencer; that a beast only destinedto the commonest of uses should actually have qualities that recalled thesteeplechaser--that the scrubby little creature with the thin neck and theshabby quarters should have a turn of speed and a 'big jump' in him, wassomething scarcely credible, and highly interesting. 

Now political life has its handicaps like the turf, and that old jockey ofmany Cabinets began seriously to think whether he might not lay a littlemoney on that dark horse Joe Atlee, and make something out of him before hewas better known in 'the ring. '

He was smarting, besides, under the annoyances of that half-clever fellowWalpole, when Atlee's letter reached him, and though the unlucky Cecil hadtaken ill and kept his room ever since his arrival, his Excellency hadnever forgiven him, nor by a word or sign showed any disposition to restorehim to favour. 

That he was himself overwhelmed by a correspondence, and left to deal withit almost alone, scarcely contributed to reconcile him to a youth who wasnot really ill, but smarting, as he deemed it, under a recent defeat; andhe pointed to the mass of papers which now littered his breakfast-table, and querulously asked his niece if that brilliant young gentleman upstairscould be induced to postpone his sorrows and copy a despatch. 

'If it be not something very difficult or requiring very uncommon care, perhaps I could do it myself. '

'So you could, Maude, but I want you too--I shall want you to copy outparts of Atlee's last letter, which I wish to place before the ForeignOffice Secretary. He ought to see what his protégé Brumsey is making ofit. These are the idiots who get us into foreign wars, or those apologeticmovements in diplomacy, which are as bad as lost battles. What a contrastto Atlee--a rare clever dog, Atlee--and so awake, not only to one, but toevery contingency of a case. I like that fellow--I like a fellow that stopsall the earths! Your half-clever ones never do that; they only do enoughto prolong the race; they don't win it. That bright relative ofours--Cecil--is one of those. Give Atlee Walpole's chances, and where wouldhe be?'

A very faint colour tinged her cheek as she listened, but did not speak. 

'That's the real way to put it, ' continued he, more warmly. 'Say to Atlee, "You shall enter public life without any pressing need to take office fora livelihood; you shall have friends able to push you with one party, andrelations and connections with the Opposition, to save you from unnecessarycavil or question; you shall be well introduced socially, and have a seatin the House before--" What's his age? five-and-twenty?'

'I should say about three-and-twenty, my lord; but it is a mere guess. '

'Three-and-twenty is he? I suspect you are right--he can't be more. Butwhat a deal the fellow has crammed for that time--plenty of rubbish, nodoubt: old dramatists and such like; but he is well up in his treaties;and there's not a speaker of eminence in the House that he cannot makecontradict himself out of Hansard. '

'Has he any fortune?' sighed she, so lazily that it scarcely sounded as aquestion. 

'I suppose not. '

'Nor any family?'

'Brothers and sisters he may have--indeed, he is sure to have; but if youmean connections--belonging to persons of admitted station--of course hehas not. The name alone might show it. '

Another little sigh, fainter than before, followed, and all was still. 

'Five years hence, if even so much, the plebeian name and the unknown stockwill be in his favour; but we have to wade through a few dreary measuresbefore that. I wish he was in the House--he ought to be in the House. '

'Is there a vacancy?' said she lazily. 

'Two. There is Cradford, and there is that Scotch place--thesomething-Burg, which, of course, one of their own people will insist on. '

'Couldn't he have Cradford?' asked she, with a very slight animation. 

'He might--at least if Brand knew him, he'd see he was the man they wanted. I almost think I'll write a line to Brand, and send him some extracts ofthe last letter. I will--here goes. '

'If you'll tell me--'

'DEAR B. , --Read the inclosed, and say have you anybody better than thewriter for your ancient borough of Cradford? The fellow can talk, and I amsure he can speak as well as he writes. He is well up in all Irish pressiniquities. Better than all, he has neither prejudices nor principles, nor, as I believe, a five-pound note in the world. He is now in Greece, but I'llhave him over by telegraph if you give me encouragement. 

'Tell Tycross at F. O. To send Walpole to Guatemala, and order him to hispost at once. G. Will have told you that I shall not go back to Ireland. The blunder of my ever seeing it was the blackest in the life of yours, DANESBUBY. '

The first letter his lordship opened gave him very little time orinclination to bestow more thought on Atlee. It was from the head of theCabinet, and in the coldest tone imaginable. The writer directed hisattention to what had occurred in the House the night before, and howimpossible it was for any Government to depend on colleagues whoseadministration had been so palpably blundering and unwise. 'Conciliationcan only succeed by the good faith it inspires. Once that it leaks outyou are more eager to achieve a gain than confer a benefit, you cease toconciliate, and you only cajole. Now your lordship might have apprehendedthat, in this especial game, the Popish priest is your master and mine--notto add that he gives an undivided attention to a subject which we have totreat as one amongst many, and with the relations and bearings which attachit to other questions of state. 

'That you cannot, with advantage to the Crown, or, indeed, to your owndignity, continue to hold your present office, is clear enough; and theonly question now is in what way, consistent with the safety of theAdministration, and respect for your lordship's high character, therelinquishment had best be made. The debate has been, on Gregory's motion, adjourned. It will be continued on Tuesday, and my colleagues opine that ifyour resignation was in their hands before that day, certain leaders of theOpposition would consent to withdraw their motion. I am not whollyagreed with the other members of the Cabinet on this point; but, withoutembarrassing you by the reasons which sway my judgment, I will simply placethe matter before you for your own consideration, perfectly assured, as Iam, that your decision will be come to only on consideration of what youdeem best for the interests of the country. 

'My colleague at the Foreign Office will write to-day or to-morrow withreference to your former post, and I only allude to it now to say theunmixed satisfaction it would give the Cabinet to find that the greatestinterests of Eastern Europe were once more in the keeping of the ablestdiplomatist of the age, and one of the most far-sighted of modernstatesmen. 

'A motion for the abolition of the Irish viceroyalty is now on the noticepaper, and it will be matter for consideration whether we may not make itan open question in the Cabinet. Perhaps your lordship would favour me withsuch opinions on the subject as your experiences suggest. 

'The extra session has wearied out every one, and we can with difficultymake a House. --Yours sincerely, G. ANNIVEY. '

The next he opened was briefer. It ran thus:--

'DEAR DANESBURY, --You must go back at once to Turkey. That inscrutableidiot Brumsey has discovered another mare's-nest, and we are lucky ifGortschakoff does not call upon us for public apology. Brunow is outrageousand demands B. 's recall. I sent off the despatch while he was with me. Leflo Pasha is very ill, they say dying, so that you must haste back toyour old friend (query: which is he?) Kulbash, if it be not too late, asApponyi thinks. --Yours, G. 

'_P. S. _--Take none of your Irish suite with you to the East. The papers aresure to note the names and attack you if you should. They shall be caredfor somehow, if there be any who interest you. 

'You have seen that the House was not over civil to you on Saturday night, though A. Thinks you got off well. '

'Resign!' cried he aloud, as he dashed the letter on the table. 'I think Iwould resign! If they asked what would tempt me to go back there, I shouldbe sorely puzzled to name it. No; not the blue ribbon itself would induceme to face that chaos once more. As to the hint about my Irish staff, itwas quite unnecessary. Not very likely, Maude, we should take Walpole tofinish in the Bosporus what he has begun on the Liffey. '

He turned hastily to the _Times_, and threw his eyes over the summary ofthe debate. It was acrimonious and sneery. The Opposition leaders, withaccustomed smoothness, had made it appear that the Viceroy's Easternexperience had misled him, and that he thought 'Tipperary was a Pashalick!'Imbued with notions of wholesale measures of government, so applicable toTurkey, it was easy to see how the errors had affected his Irish policy. 'There was, ' said the speaker, 'somebody to be conciliated in Ireland, andsome one to be hanged; and what more natural than that he should forgetwhich, or that he should make the mistake of keeping all the flattery forthe rebel and the rope for the priest. ' The neatness of the illustrationtook with the House, and the speaker was interrupted by 'much laughter. 'And then he went on to say that, 'as with those well-known ointments ormedicines whose specific virtues lay in the enormous costliness of someof the constituents, so it must give unspeakable value to the efficacyof those healing measures for Ireland, to know that the whole BritishConstitution was boiled down to make one of them, and every right andliberty brayed in the mortar to furnish even one dose of this preciouselixir. ' And then there was 'laughter' again. 

'He ought to be more merciful to charlatans. Dogs do not eat dogs, 'muttered his lordship to himself, and then asked his niece to send Walpoleto him. 

It was some time before Walpole appeared, and when he did, it was with sucha wasted look and careworn aspect as might have pleaded in his favour. 

'Maude told me you wished to see me, my lord, ' said he, half diffidently. 

'Did I? eh? Did I say so? I forget all about it. What could it be? Let ussee. Was it this stupid row they were making in the House? Have you readthe debate?'

'No, my lord; not looked at a paper. '

'Of course not; you have been too ill, too weak. Have you seen a doctor?'

'I don't care to see a doctor; they all say the same thing. I only needrest and quiet. '

'Only that! Why, they are the two things nobody can get. Power cannot havethem, nor money buy them. The retired tradesman--I beg his pardon, thecheesemonger--he is always a cheesemonger now who represents vulgarity andbank-stock--he may have his rest and quiet; but a Minister must not dreamof such a luxury, nor any one who serves a Minister. Where's the quiet tocome from, I ask you, after such a tirade of abuse as that?' And he pointedto the _Times_. 'There's _Punch_, too, with a picture of me measuring out"Danesbury's drops to cure loyalty. " That slim youth handing the spoon ismeant for _you_, Walpole. '

'Perhaps so, my lord, ' said he coldly. 

'They haven't given you too much leg, Cecil, ' said the other, laughing; butCecil scarcely relished the joke. 

'I say, Piccadilly is scarcely the place for a man after that: I mean, ofcourse, for a while, ' continued he. 'These things are not eternal; theyhave their day. They had me last week travelling in Ireland on a camel; andI was made to say, "That the air of the desert always did me good!" Poorfun, was it not?'

'Very poor fun indeed!'

'And you were the boy preparing my chibouque; and, I must say, devilishlike. '

'I did not see it, my lord. '

'That's the best way. Don't look at the caricatures; don't read the_Saturday Review_; never know there is anything wrong with you; nor, if youcan, that anything disagrees with you. '

'I should like the last delusion best of all, ' said he. 

'Who would not?' cried the old lord. 'The way I used to eat potted prawnsat Eton, and peach jam after them, and iced guavas, and never felt better!And now everything gives acidity. '

'Just because our fathers and grandfathers would have those potted prawnsyou spoke of. '

'No, no; you are all wrong. It's the new race--it's the new generation. They don't bear reverses. Whenever the world goes wrong with them, theytalk as they feel, they lose appetite, and they fall down in a state likeyour--a--Walpole--like your own!'

'Well, my lord, I don't think I could be called captious for saying thatthe world has not gone over well with me. '

'Ah--hum. You mean--no matter--I suppose the luckiest hand is not alltrumps! The thing is to score the trick--that's the point, Walpole, toscore the trick!'

'Up to this, I have not been so fortunate. '

'Well, who knows what's coming! I have just asked the Foreign Office peopleto give you Guatemala; not a bad thing, as times go. '

'Why, my lord, it's banishment and barbarism together. The pay ismiserable! It _is_ far away, and it _is_ not Pall Mall or the Rue Rivoli. '

'No, not that. There is twelve hundred for salary, and something for ahouse, and something more for a secretary that you don't keep, and anoffice that you need not have. In fact, it makes more than two thousand;and for a single man in a place where he cannot be extravagant, it willsuffice. '

'Yes, my lord; but I was presumptuous enough to imagine a condition inwhich I should not be a single man, and I speculated on the possibilitythat another might venture to share even poverty as my companion. '

'A woman wouldn't go there--at least, she ought not. It's all bush life, or something like it. Why should a woman bear that? or a man ask her to doso?'

'You seem to forget, my lord, that affections may be engaged, and pledgesinterchanged. '

'Get a bill of indemnity, therefore, to release you: better that than waitfor yellow fever to do it. ' 'I confess that your lordship's words give megreat discouragement, and if I could possibly believe that Lady Maude wasof your mind--'

'Maude! Maude! why, you never imagined that Lady Maude would leave comfortand civilisation for this bush life, with its rancheros and rattlesnakes. Iconfess, ' said he, with a bitter laugh, 'I did not think either of you werebent on being Paul or Virginia. '

'Have I your lordship's permission to ask her own judgment in the matter: Imean with the assurance of its not being biassed by you?'

'Freely, most freely do I give it. She is not the girl I believe her if sheleaves you long in doubt. But I prejudge nothing, and I influence nothing. '

'Am I to conclude, my lord, that I am sure of this appointment?'

'I almost believe I can say you are. I have asked for a reply by telegraph, and I shall probably have one to-morrow. '

'You seemed to have acted under the conviction that I should be glad to getthis place. '

'Yes, such was my conclusion. After that fiasco in Ireland you must gosomewhere, for a time at least, out of the way. Now as a man cannot die forhalf-a-dozen years and come back to life when people have forgottenhis unpopularity, the next best thing is South America. Bogota and theArgentine Republic have whitewashed many a reputation. '

'I will remember your lordship's wise words. '

'Do so, ' said my lord curtly, for he felt offended at the flippant tone inwhich the other spoke. 'I don't mean to say that I'd send the writer ofthat letter yonder to Yucatan or Costa Rica. '

'Who may the gifted writer be, my lord?'

'Atlee, Joe Atlee; the fellow you sent over here. '

'Indeed!' was all that Walpole could utter. 

'Just take it to your room and read it over. You will be astonished atthe thing. The fellow has got to know the bearings of a whole set of newquestions, and how he understands the men he has got to deal with!'

'With your leave I will do so, ' said he, as he took the letter and left theroom. 

CHAPTER LX

A DEFEAT

Cecil Walpole's Italian experiences had supplied him with an Italianproverb which says, '_Tutto il mal non vien per nuocere_, ' or, in otherwords, that no evil comes unmixed with good; and there is a marvellousamount of wisdom in the adage. 

That there is a deep philosophy, too, in showing how carefully we shouldsift misfortune to the dregs, and ascertain what of benefit we might rescuefrom the dross, is not to be denied; and the more we reflect on it, themore should we see that the germ of all real consolation is intimatelybound up in this reservation. 

No sooner, then, did Walpole, in novelist phrase, 'realise the fact' thathe was to go to Guatemala, than he set very practically to inquire whatadvantages, if any, could be squeezed out of this unpromising incident. 

The creditors--and he had some--would not like it! The dreary process ofdunning a man across half the globe, the hopelessness of appeals that tooktwo months to come to hand, and the inefficacy of threats that were waftedover miles of ocean! And certainly he smiled as he thought of these, andrather maliciously bethought him of the truculent importunity that menacedhim with some form of publicity in the more insolent appeal to someMinister at home. 'Our tailor will moderate his language, our jewellerwill appreciate the merits of polite letter-writing, ' thought he. 'A fewparallels of latitude become a great school-master. '

But there were greater advantages even than these. This banishment--for itwas nothing else--could not by any possibility be persisted in, and if LadyMaude should consent to accompany him, would be very short-lived. 

'The women will take it up, ' said he, 'and with that charming clanship thatdistinguishes them, will lead the Foreign Secretary a life of misery tillhe gives us something better. --"Maude says the thermometer has never beenlower than 132°, and that there is no shade. The nights have no breeze, andare rather hotter than the days. She objects seriously to be waited on bypeople in feathers, and very few of them, and she remonstrates againstalligators in the kitchen-garden, and wild cats coming after the canariesin the drawing-room. "

'I hear the catalogue of misfortunes, which begins with nothing toeat, plus the terror of being eaten. I recognise the lament over lostcivilisation and a wasted life, and I see Downing Street besieged withladies in deputations, declaring that they care nothing for party orpolitics, but a great deal for the life of a dear young creature who is tobe sacrificed to appease some people belonging to the existing Ministry. Ithink I know how beautifully illogical they will be, but how necessarilysuccessful; and now for Maude herself. '

Of Lady Maude Bickerstaffe Walpole had seen next to nothing since hisreturn; his own ill-health had confined him to his room, and her inquiriesafter him had been cold and formal; and though he wrote a tender littlenote and asked for books, slyly hinting what measure of bliss a fiveminutes' visit would confer on him, the books he begged for were sent, butnot a line of answer accompanied them. On the whole, he did not dislikethis little show of resentment. What he really dreaded was indifference. So long as a woman is piqued with you, something can always be done; it isonly when she becomes careless and unmindful of what you do, or say, orlook, or think, that the game looks hopeless. Therefore it was that heregarded this demonstration of anger as rather favourable than otherwise. 

'Atlee has told her of the Greek! Atlee has stirred up her jealousy of theTitian Girl. Atlee has drawn a long indictment against me, and the fellowhas done me good service in giving me something to plead to. Let me havea charge to meet, and I have no misgivings. What really unmans me is thedistrust that will not even utter an allegation, and the indifference thatdoes not want disproof. '

He learned that her ladyship was in the garden, and he hastened down tomeet her. In his own small way Walpole was a clever tactician; and hecounted much on the ardour with which he should open his case, and theamount of impetuosity that would give her very little time for reflection. 

'I shall at once assume that her fate is irrevocably knitted to my own, andI shall act as though the tie was indissoluble. After all, if she puts meto the proof, I have her letters--cold and guarded enough, it is true. Nofervour, no gush of any kind, but calm dissertations on a future that mustcome, and a certain dignified acceptance of her own part in it. Not thekind of letters that a Q. C. Could read with much rapture before a crowdedcourt, and ask the assembled grocers, "What happiness has life to offer tothe man robbed of those precious pledges of affection--how was he toface the world, stripped of every attribute that cherished hope and fedambition?"'

He was walking slowly towards her when he first saw her, and he had someseconds to prepare himself ere they met. 

'I came down after you, Maude, ' said he, in a voice ingeniously modulatedbetween the tone of old intimacy and a slight suspicion of emotion. 'I camedown to tell you my news'--he waited, and then added--'my fate!'

Still she was silent, the changed word exciting no more interest than itspredecessor. 

'Feeling as I do, ' he went on, 'and how we stand towards each other, Icannot but know that my destiny has nothing good or evil in it, except asit contributes to your happiness. ' He stole a glance at her, but there wasnothing in that cold, calm face that could guide him. With a bold effort, however, he went on: 'My own fortune in life has but one test--is myexistence to be shared with you or not? With _your_ hand in mine, Maude, '--and he grasped the marble-cold fingers as he spoke--'poverty, exile, hardships, and the world's neglect, have no terrors for me. Withyour love, every ambition of my heart is gratified. Without it--'

[Illustration: 'I should like to have back my letters']

'Well, without it--what?' said she, with a faint smile. 

'You would not torture me by such a doubt? Would you rack my soul by amisery I have not words to speak of?'

'I thought you were going to say what it might be, when I stopped you. '

'Oh, drop this cold and bantering tone, dearest Maude. Remember thequestion is now of my very life itself. If you cannot be affectionate, atleast be reasonable!'

'I shall try, ' said she calmly. 

Stung to the quick by a composure which he could not imitate, he wasable, however, to repress every show of anger, and with a manner cold andmeasured as her own, he went on: 'My lord advises that I should go back todiplomacy, and has asked the Ministers to give me Guatemala. It is nothingvery splendid. It is far away in a remote part of the world; not over-wellpaid, but at least I shall be Chargé-d'Affaires, and by three years--fourat most, of this banishment--I shall have a claim for something better. 

'I hope you may, I'm sure, ' said she, as he seemed to expect something likea remark. 

'That is not enough, Maude, if the hope be not a wish--and a wish thatincludes self-interest. '

'I am so dull, Cecil: tell me what you mean. '

'Simply this, then: does your heart tell you that you could share thisfortune, and brave these hardships; in one word, will you say what willmake me regard this fate as the happiest of my existence? will you giveme this dear hand as my own--my own?' and he pressed his lips upon itrapturously as he spoke. 

She made no effort to release her hand; nor for a second or two did she sayone word. At last, in a very measured tone, she said, 'I should like tohave back my letters. '

'Your letters? Do you mean, Maude, that--that you would break with me?'

'I mean certainly that I should not go to this horrid place--'

'Then I shall refuse it, ' broke he in impetuously. 

'Not that only, Cecil, ' said she, for the first time faltering; 'but exceptbeing very good friends, I do not desire that there should be more betweenus. '

'No engagement?'

'No, no engagement. I do not believe there ever was an actual promise, at least on my part. Other people had no right to promise for either ofus--and--and, in fact, the present is a good opportunity to end it. '

'To end it, ' echoed he, in intense bitterness; 'to end it?'

'And I should like to have my letters, ' said she calmly, while she tooksome freshly plucked flowers from a basket on her arm, and appeared to seekfor something at the bottom of the basket. 

'I thought you would come down here, Cecil, ' said she, 'when you had spokento my uncle. Indeed, I was sure you would, and so I brought these with me. 'And she drew forth a somewhat thick bundle of notes and letters tied with anarrow ribbon. 'These are yours, ' said she, handing them. 

Far more piqued by her cold self-possession than really wounded in feeling, he took the packet without a word; at last he said, 'This is your ownwish--your own, unprompted by others?'

She stared almost insolently at him for answer. 

'I mean, Maude--oh, forgive me if I utter that dear name once more--I meanthere has been no influence used to make you treat me thus?'

'You have known me to very little purpose all these years, Cecil Walpole, to ask me such a question. '

'I am not sure of that. I know too well what misrepresentation and calumnycan do anywhere; and I have been involved in certain difficulties which, ifnot explained away, might be made accusations--grave accusations. '

'I make none--I listen to none. '

'I have become an object of complete indifference, then? You feel nointerest in me either way. If I dared, Maude. I should like to ask the dateof this change--when it began?'

'I don't well know what you mean. There was not, so far as I am aware, anything between us, except a certain esteem and respect, of whichconvenience was to make something more. Now convenience has broken faithwith us, but we are not the less very good friends--excellent friends ifyou like. '

'Excellent friends! I could swear to the friendship!' said he, with amalicious energy. 

'So at least I mean to be, ' said she calmly. 

'I hope it is not I shall fail in the compact. And now, will my quality offriend entitle me to ask one question, Maude?'

'I am not sure till I hear it. '

'I might have hoped a better opinion of my discretion; at all events, Iwill risk my question. What I would ask is, how far Joseph Atlee is mixedup with your judgment of me? Will you tell me this?'

'I will only tell you, sir, that you are over-vain of that discretion youbelieve you possess. '

'Then I am right, ' cried he, almost insolently. 'I _have_ hit the blot. '

A glance, a mere glance of haughty disdain, was the only reply she made. 

'I am shocked, Maude, ' said he at last. 'I am ashamed that we should spendin this way perhaps the very last few minutes we shall ever pass together. Heart-broken as I am, I should desire to carry away one memory at least ofher whose love was the loadstar of my existence. '

'I want my letters, Cecil, ' said she coldly. 

'So that you came down here with mine, prepared for this rupture, Maude? Itwas all prearranged in your mind. '

'More discretion--more discretion, or good taste--which is it?'

'I ask pardon, most humbly I ask it; your rebuke was quite just. I waspresuming upon a past which has no relation to the present. I shall notoffend any more. And now, what was it you said?'

'I want my letters. '

'They are here, ' said he, drawing a thick envelope fully crammed withletters from his pocket and placing it in her hand. 'Scarcely as carefullyor as nicely kept as mine, for they have been read over too many times;and with what rapture, Maude. How pressed to my heart and to my lips, howtreasured! Shall I tell you?'

There was that of exaggerated passion--almost rant--in these last words, that certainly did not impress them with reality; and either Lady Maudewas right in doubting their sincerity, or cruelly unjust, for she smiledfaintly as she heard them. 

'No, don't tell me, ' said she faintly. 'I am already so much flattered bycourteous anticipation of my wishes that I ask for nothing more. '

He bowed his head lowly; but his smile was one of triumph, as he thoughthow, this time at least, he had wounded her. 

'There are some trinkets, Cecil, ' said she coldly, 'which I have made intoa packet, and you will find them on your dressing-table. And--it may saveyou some discomfort if I say that you need not give yourself trouble torecover the little ring with an opal I once gave you, for I have it now. '

'May I dare?'

'You may not dare. Good-bye. '

And she gave her hand; he bent over it for a moment, scarcely touched itwith his lips, and turned away. 

CHAPTER LXI

A CHANGE OF FRONT

Of all the discomfitures in life there was one which Cecil Walpole did notbelieve could possibly befall him. Indeed, if it could have been made amatter of betting, he would have wagered all he had in the world that nowoman should ever be able to say she refused his offer of marriage. 

He had canvassed the matter very often with himself, and always arrivedat the same conclusion--that if a man were not a mere coxcomb, blindedby vanity and self-esteem, he could always know how a woman really felttowards him; and that where the question admitted of a doubt--where, indeed, there was even a flaw in the absolute certainty--no man with adue sense of what was owing to himself would risk his dignity by thepossibility of a refusal. It was a part of his peculiar ethics that a manthus rejected was damaged, pretty much as a bill that has been deniedacceptance. It was the same wound to credit, the same outrage on character. Considering, therefore, that nothing obliged a man to make an offer of hishand till he had assured himself of success, it was to his thinking a meregratuitous pursuit of insult to be refused. That no especial delicacykept these things secret, that women talked of them freely--ay, triumphantly--that they made the staple of conversation at afternoon teaand the club, with all the flippant comments that dear friends know how tocontribute as to your vanity and presumption, he was well aware. Indeed, he had been long an eloquent contributor to that scandal literature whichamuses the leisure of fashion and helps on the tedium of an ordinarydinner. How Lady Maude would report the late scene in the garden tothe Countess of Mecherscroft, who would tell it to her company at hercountry-house!--How the Lady Georginas would discuss it over luncheon, andthe Lord Georges talk of it out shooting! What a host of pleasant anecdoteswould be told of his inordinate puppyism and self-esteem! How even thedullest fellows would dare to throw a stone at him! What a target for awhile he would be for every marksman at any range to shoot at! All thesehis quick-witted ingenuity pictured at once before him. 

'I see it all, ' cried he, as he paced his room in self-examination. 'Ihave suffered myself to be carried away by a burst of momentary impulse. Ibrought up all my reserves, and have failed utterly. Nothing can saveme now, but a "change of front. " It is the last bit of generalshipremaining--a change of front--a change of front!' And he repeated the wordsover and over, as though hoping they might light up his ingenuity. 'I mightgo and tell her that all I had been saying was mere jest--that I couldnever have dreamed of asking her to follow me into barbarism: that to goto Guatemala was equivalent to accepting a yellow fever--it was courtingdisease, perhaps death; that my insistence was a mere mockery, in the worstpossible taste; but that I had already agreed with Lord Danesbury, our engagement should be cancelled; that his lordship's memory of ourconversation would corroborate me in saying I had no intention to proposesuch a sacrifice to her; and indeed I had but provoked her to say the verythings, and use the very arguments, I had already employed to myself as asort of aid to my own heartfelt convictions. Here would be a "change offront" with a vengeance. 

'She will already have written off the whole interview: the despatch isfinished, ' cried he, after a moment. 'It is a change of front the day afterthe battle. The people will read of my manoeuvre with the bulletin ofvictory before them. 

'Poor Frank Touchet used to say, ' cried he aloud, '"Whenever they refusemy cheques at the Bank, I always transfer my account"; and fortunately theworld is big enough for these tactics for several years. That's a change offront too, if I knew how to adapt it. I must marry another woman--there'snothing else for it. It is the only escape; and the question is, who shallshe be?' The more he meditated over this change of front the more he sawthat his destiny pointed to the Greek. If he could see clearly before himto a high career in diplomacy, the Greek girl, in everything but fortune, would suit him well. Her marvellous beauty, her grace of manner, her socialtact and readiness, her skill in languages, were all the very qualitiesmost in request. Such a woman would make the full complement, by herfascinations, of all that her husband could accomplish by his abilities. The little indiscretions of old men--especially old men--with these women, the lapses of confidence they made them, the dropping admissions of this orthat intention, made up what Walpole knew to be high diplomacy. 

'Nothing worth hearing is ever got by a man, ' was an adage he treasured asdeep wisdom. Why kings resort to that watering-place, and accidentally meetcertain Ministers going somewhere else; why kaisers affect to review troopshere, that they may be able to talk statecraft there; how princely compactsand contracts of marriage are made at sulphur springs; all these andsuch like leaked out as small-talk with a young and pretty woman, whosefrivolity of manner went bail for the safety of the confidence, andwent far to persuade Walpole, that though bank-stock might be a surerinvestment, there were paying qualities in certain women that in the endpromised larger returns than mere money and higher rewards than merewealth. 'Yes, ' cried he to himself, 'this is the real change of front--thishas all in its favour. '

Nor yet all. Strong as Walpole's self-esteem was, and high his estimate ofhis own capacity, he had--he could not conceal it--a certain misgiving asto whether he really understood that girl or not. 'I have watched many abolt from her bow, ' said he, 'and think I know their range. But now andthen she has shot an arrow into the clear sky, and far beyond my sight tofollow it. '

That scene in the wood too. Absurd enough that it should obtrude itself atsuch a moment, but it was the sort of indication that meant much more to aman like Walpole than to men of other experiences. Was she flirting withthis young Austrian soldier? No great harm if she were; but still there hadbeen passages between himself and her which should have bound her over tomore circumspection. Was there not a shadowy sort of engagement betweenthem? Lawyers deem a mere promise to grant a lease as equivalent to acontract. It would be a curious question in morals to inquire how far thelicensed perjuries of courtship are statutory offences. Perhaps a slyconsciousness on his own part that he was not playing perfectly fair madehim, as it might do, more than usually tenacious that his adversary shouldbe honest. What chance the innocent public would have with two peoplewho were so adroit with each other was his next thought; and he actuallylaughed aloud as it occurred to him. 'I only wish my lord would invite ushere before we sail. If I could but show her to Maude, half an hour ofthese women together would be the heaviest vengeance I could ask her! Iwonder how could that be managed?'

'A despatch, sir, his lordship begs you to read, ' said a servant, entering. It was an open envelope, and contained these words on a slip of paper:--

'W. Shall have Guatemala. He must go out by the mail of November 15. Send him here for instructions. ' Some words in cipher followed, and anunder-secretary's initials. 

'Now, then, for the "change of front. " I'll write to Nina by this post. I'll ask my lord to let me tear off this portion of the telegram, and Ishall inclose it. '

The letter was not so easily written as he thought--at least he made morethan one draft--and was at last in great doubt whether a long statement ora few and very decided lines might be better. How he ultimately determined, and what he said, cannot be given here; for, unhappily, the conditionsof my narrative require I should ask my reader to accompany me to a verydistant spot and other interests which were just then occupying theattention of an almost forgotten acquaintance of ours, the redoubted JosephAtlee. 

CHAPTER LXII

WITH A PASHA

Joseph Atlee had a very busy morning of it on a certain November day atPera, when the post brought him tidings that Lord Danesbury had resignedthe Irish viceroyalty, and had been once more named to his old post asambassador at Constantinople. 

'My uncle desires me, ' wrote Lady Maude, 'to impress you with the nowall-important necessity of obtaining the papers you know of, and, so faras you are able, to secure that no authorised copies of them are extant. Kulbash Pasha will, my lord says, be very tractable when once assuredthat our return to Turkey is a certainty; but should you detect signs ofhesitation or distrust in the Grand-Vizier's conduct, you will hint thatthe investigation as to the issue of the Galatz shares--"preferenceshares"--may be reopened at any moment, and that the Ottoman Bank agent, Schaffer, has drawn up a memoir which my uncle now holds. I copy my lord'swords for all this, and sincerely hope you will understand it, which, Iconfess, _ I_ do not at all. My lord cautioned me not to occupy your time orattention by any reference to Irish questions, but leave you perfectly freeto deal with those larger interests of the East that should now engage you. I forbear, therefore, to do more than mark with a pencil the part in thedebates which might interest you especially, and merely add the fact, otherwise, perhaps, not very credible, that Mr. Walpole _did_ write thefamous letter imputed to him--_did_ promise the amnesty, or whatever be thename of it, and _did_ pledge the honour of the Government to a transactionwith these Fenian leaders. With what success to his own prospects, the_Gazette_ will speak that announces his appointment to Guatemala. 

'I am myself very far from sorry at our change of destination. I prefer theBosporus to the Bay of Dublin, and like Pera better than the Phoenix. Itis not alone that the interests are greater, the questions larger, and theconsequences more important to the world at large, but that, as my unclehas just said, you are spared the peddling impertinence of Parliamentinterfering at every moment, and questioning your conduct, from aninvitation to Cardinal Cullen to the dismissal of a chief constable. Happily, the gentlemen at Westminster know nothing about Turkey, and havethe prudence not to ventilate their ignorance, except in secret committee. I am sorry to have to tell you that my lord sees great difficulty in whatyou propose as to yourself. F. O. , he says, would not easily consent toyour being named even a third secretary without your going through theestablished grade of attaché. All the unquestionable merits he knows you topossess would count for nothing against an official regulation. The coursemy lord would suggest is this: To enter now as mere attaché, to continuein this position some three or four months, come over here for the generalelection in February, get into "the House, " and after some few sessions, one or two, rejoin diplomacy, to which you might be appointed as asecretary of legation. My uncle named to me three, if not four casesof this kind--one, indeed, stepped at once into a mission and became aminister; and though of course the Opposition made a fuss, they failed intheir attempt to break the appointment, and the man will probably be soonan ambassador. I accept the little yataghan, but sincerely wish the presenthad been of less value. There is one enormous emerald in the handle which Iam much tempted to transfer to a ring. Perhaps I ought, in decency, to haveyour permission for the change. The burnous is very beautiful, but I couldnot accept it--an article of dress is in the category of things impossible. Have you no Irish sisters, or even cousins? Pray give me a destination toaddress it to in your next. 

'My uncle desires me to say that, all invaluable as your services havebecome where you are, he needs you greatly here, and would hear withpleasure that you were about to return. He is curious to know who wrote"L'Orient et Lord D. " in the last _Revue des Deux Mondes_. The savagery ofthe attack implies a personal rancour. Find out the author, and reply tohim in the _Edinburgh_. My lord suspects he may have had access to thepapers he has already alluded to, and is the more eager to repossess them. '

A telegraphic despatch in cipher was put into his hands as he was reading. It was from Lord Danesbury, and said: 'Come back as soon as you can, butnot before making K. Pasha know his fate is in my hands. '

As the Grand-Vizier had already learned from the Ottoman ambassador atLondon the news that Lord Danesbury was about to resume his former postat Constantinople, his Turkish impassiveness was in no way imperilled byAtlee's abrupt announcement. It is true he would have been pleased had theEnglish Government sent out some one new to the East and a stranger to allOriental questions. He would have liked one of those veterans of diplomacyversed in the old-fashioned ways and knaveries of German courts, and whoseshrewdest ideas of a subtle policy are centred in a few social spies and a'Cabinet Noir. ' The Pasha had no desire to see there a man who knew all thesecret machinery of a Turkish administration, what corruption could do, andwhere to look for the men who could employ it. 

The thing was done, however, and with that philosophy of resignation toa fact in which no nation can rival his own, he muttered his politecongratulations on the event, and declared that the dearest wish of hisheart was now accomplished. 

'We had half begun to believe you had abandoned us, Mr. Atlee, ' said he. 'When England commits her interests to inferior men, she usually means toimply that they are worth nothing better. I am rejoiced to see that we are, at last, awakened from this delusion. With his Excellency Lord Danesburyhere, we shall be soon once more where we have been. '

'Your fleet is in effective condition, well armed, and well disciplined?'

'All, all, ' smiled the Pasha. 

'The army reformed, the artillery supplied with the most efficient guns, and officers of European services encouraged to join your staff?'

'All. '

'Wise economies in your financial matters, close supervision in thecollection of the revenue, and searching inquiries where abuses exist?'

'All. '

'Especial care that the administration of justice should be beyond eventhe malevolence of distrust, that men of station and influence should beclear-handed and honourable, not a taint of unfairness to attach to them?'

'Be it all so, ' ejaculated the Pasha blandly. 

'By the way, I am reminded by a line I have just received from hisExcellency with reference to Sulina, or was it Galatz?'

The Pasha could not decide, and he went on--

'I remember, it is Galatz. There is some curious question there of aconcession for a line of railroad, which a Servian commissioner had theskill to obtain from the Cabinet here, by a sort of influence which ourStock Exchange people in London scarcely regard as regular. '

The Pasha nodded to imply attention, and smoked on as before. 

'But I weary your Excellency, ' said Atlee, rising, 'and my real businesshere is accomplished. '

'Tell my lord that I await his arrival with impatience, that of all pendingquestions none shall receive solution till he comes, that I am the veryleast of his servants. ' And with an air of most dignified sincerity, hebowed him out, and Atlee hastened away to tell his chief that he had'squared the Turk, ' and would sail on the morrow. 

CHAPTER LXIII

ATLEE ON HIS TRAVELS

On board the Austrian Lloyd's steamer in which he sailed fromConstantinople, Joseph Atlee employed himself in the composition of a smallvolume purporting to be _The Experiences of a Two Years' Residence inGreece_. In an opening chapter of this work he had modestly intimated tothe reader how an intimate acquaintance with the language and literature ofmodern Greece, great opportunities of mixing with every class and conditionof the people, a mind well stored with classical acquirements andthoroughly versed in antiquarian lore, a strong poetic temperament and thefeeling of an artist for scenery, had all combined to give him a certainfitness for his task; and by the extracts from his diary it would be seenon what terms of freedom he conversed with Ministers and ambassadors, evenwith royalty itself. 

A most pitiless chapter was devoted to the exposure of the mistakes andmisrepresentations of a late _Quarterly_ article called 'Greece and herProtectors, ' whose statements were the more mercilessly handled andridiculed that the paper in question had been written by himself, and thesarcastic allusions to the sources of the information not the less pungenton that account. 

That the writer had been admitted to frequent audiences of the king, thathe had discussed with his Majesty the cutting of the Isthmus of Corinth, that the king had seriously confided to him his belief that in the eventof his abdication, the Ionian Islands must revert to him as a personalappanage, the terms on which they were annexed to Greece being decided bylawyers to bear this interpretation--all these Atlee denied of his ownknowledge, an asked the reader to follow him into the royal cabinet for hisreasons. 

When, therefore, he heard that from some damage to the machinery the vesselmust be detained some days at Syra to refit, Atlee was scarcely sorry thatnecessity gave him an opportunity to visit Athens. 

A little about Ulysses and a good deal about Lord Byron, a smattering ofGrote, and a more perfect memory of About, were, as he owned to himself, all his Greece; but he could answer for what three days in the countrywould do for him, particularly with that spirit of candid inquiry he couldnow bring to his task, and the genuine fairness with which he desired tojudge the people. 

'The two years' resident' in Athens must doubtless often have dined withhis Minister, and so Atlee sent his card to the Legation. 

Mr. Brammell, our 'present Minister at Athens, ' as the _Times_ continuedto designate him, as though to imply that the appointment might not bepermanent, was an excellent man, of that stamp of which diplomacy hasmore--who consider that the Court to which they are accredited concentratesfor the time the political interests of the globe. That any one in Europethought, read, spoke, or listened to anything but what was then happeningin Greece, Mr. Brammell could not believe. That France or Prussia, Spainor Italy, could divide attention with this small kingdom; that thegreat political minds of the Continent were not more eager to know whatComoundouros thought and Bulgaris required, than all about Bismarck andGortschakoff, he could not be brought to conceive; and in consequence ofthese convictions, he was an admirable Minister, and fully represented allthe interests of his country. 

As that admirable public instructor, the _Levant Herald_, had frequentlymentioned Atlee's name, now as the guest of Kulbash Pasha, now as havingattended some public ceremony with other persons of importance, and onceas 'our distinguished countryman, whose wise suggestions and acuteobservations have been duly accepted by the imperial cabinet, ' Brammellat once knew that this distinguished countryman should be entertained atdinner, and he sent him an invitation. That habit--so popular of lateyears--to send out some man from England to do something at a foreign Courtthat the British ambassador or Minister there either has not done, orcannot do, possibly ought never to do, had invested Atlee in Brammell'seyes with the character of one of those semi-accredited inscrutable peoplewhose function it would seem to be to make us out the most meddlesomepeople in Europe. 

Of course Brammell was not pleased to see him at Athens, and he ran overall the possible contingencies he might have come for. It might be the oldGreek loan, which was to be raked up again as a new grievance. It might bethe pensions that they would not pay, or the brigands that they would notcatch--pretty much for the same reasons--that they could not. It mightbe that they wanted to hear what Tsousicheff, the new Russian Minister, was doing, and whether the farce of the 'Grand Idea' was advertised forrepetition. It might be Crete was on the _tapis_, or it might be thequestion of the Greek envoy to the Porte that the Sultan refused toreceive, and which promised to turn out a very pretty quarrel if onlyadroitly treated. 

The more Brammell thought of it, the more he felt assured this must be thereason of Atlee's visit, and the more indignant he grew that extra-officialmeans should be employed to investigate what he had written seventeendespatches to explain--seventeen despatches, with nine 'inclosures, ' and a'private and confidential, ' about to appear in a blue-book. 

To make the dinner as confidential as might be, the only guests besidesAtlee were a couple of yachting Englishmen, a German Professor ofArchæology, and the American Minister, who, of course, speaking no languagebut his own, could always be escaped from by a digression into French, German, or Italian. 

Atlee felt, as he entered the drawing-room, that the company was what heirreverently called afterwards, a scratch team; and with an almost equalquickness, he saw that he himself was the 'personage' of the entertainment, the 'man of mark' of the party. 

The same tact which enabled him to perceive all this, made him especiallyguarded in all he said, so that his host's efforts to unveil his intentionsand learn what he had come for were complete failures. 'Greece was acharming country--Greece was the parent of any civilisation we boasted. She gave us those ideas of architecture with which we raised that glorioustemple at Kensington, and that taste for sculpture which we exhibited nearApsley House. Aristophanes gave us our comic drama, and only the defaultsof our language made it difficult to show why the member for Cork did notmore often recall Demosthenes. '

As for insolvency, it was a very gentlemanlike failing; while brigandagewas only what Sheil used to euphemise as 'the wild justice' of noblespirits, too impatient for the sluggard steps of slow redress, and tooproud not to be self-reliant. 

Thus excusing and extenuating wherein he could not flatter, Atlee talked onthe entire evening, till he sent the two Englishmen home heartily sick of abombastic eulogy on the land where a pilot had run their cutter on a rock, and a revenue officer had seized all their tobacco. The German had retiredearly, and the Yankee hastened to his lodgings to 'jot down' all the finethings he could commit to his next despatch home, and overwhelm Mr. Sewardwith an array of historic celebrities such as had never been seen atWashington. 

'They're gone at last, ' said the Minister. 'Let us have our cigar on theterrace. '

The unbounded frankness, the unlimited trustfulness that now ensued betweenthese two men, was charming. Brammell represented one hard worked andsorely tried in his country's service--the perfect slave of office, spending nights long at his desk, but not appreciated, not valued at home. It was delightful, therefore, to him, to find a man like Atlee to whom hecould tell this--could tell for what an ungrateful country he toiled, what ignorance he sought to enlighten, what actual stupidity he had tocounteract. He spoke of the Office--from his tone of horror it might havebeen the Holy Office--with a sort of tremulous terror and aversion: theabsurd instructions they sent him, the impossible things he was to do, theinconceivable lines of policy he was to insist on; how but for him the kingwould abdicate, and a Russian protectorate be proclaimed; how the revoltat Athens would be proclaimed in Thessaly; how Skulkekoff, the Russiangeneral, was waiting to move into the provinces 'at the first check mypolicy shall receive here, ' cried he. 'I shall show you on this map; andhere are the names, armament, and tonnage of a hundred and ninety-fourgunboats now ready at Nicholief to move down on Constantinople. '

Was it not strange, was it not worse than strange, after such a show ofunbounded confidence as this, Atlee would reveal nothing? Whatever hisgrievances against the people he served--and who is without them?--he wouldsay nothing, he had no complaint to make. Things he admitted were bad, butthey might be worse. The monarchy existed still, and the House of Lordswas, for a while at least, tolerated. Ireland was disturbed, but not inopen rebellion; and if we had no army to speak of, we still had a navy, andeven the present Admiralty only lost about five ships a year!

Till long after midnight did they fence with each other, with buttons ontheir foils--very harmlessly, no doubt, but very uselessly too: Brammellcould make nothing of a man who neither wanted to hear about finance ortaxation, court scandal, schools, or public robbery; and though he couldnot in so many words ask--What have you come for? why are you here? he saidthis in full fifty different ways for three hours and more. 

'You make some stay amongst us, I trust?' said the Minister, as his guestrose to take leave. 'You mean to see something of this interesting countrybefore you leave?'

'I fear not; when the repairs to the steamer enable her to put to sea, theyare to let me know by telegraph, and I shall join her. '

'Are you so pressed for time that you cannot spare us a week or two?'

'Totally impossible! Parliament will sit in January next, and I must hastenhome. '

This was to imply that he was in the House, or that he expected to be, orthat he ought to be, and even if he were not, that his presence in Englandwas all-essential to somebody who was in Parliament, and for whom hisinformation, his explanation, his accusation, or anything else, was allneeded, and so Brammell read it and bowed accordingly. 

'By the way, ' said the Minister, as the other was leaving the room, andwith that sudden abruptness of a wayward thought, 'we have been talking ofall sorts of things and people, but not a word about what we are so full ofhere. How is this difficulty about the new Greek envoy to the Porte to end?You know, of course, the Sultan refuses to receive him?'

'The Pasha told me something of it, but I confess to have paid littleattention. I treated the matter as insignificant. '

'Insignificant! You cannot mean that an affront so openly administeredas this, the greatest national offence that could be offered, isinsignificant?' and then with a volubility that smacked very little of wantof preparation, he showed that the idea of sending a particular man, longcompromised by his complicity in the Cretan revolt, to Constantinople, camefrom Russia, and that the opposition of the Porte to accept him was alsoRussian. 'I got to the bottom of the whole intrigue. I wrote home howTsousicheff was nursing this new quarrel. I told our people facts of theMuscovite policy that they never got a hint of from their ambassador at St. Petersburg. '

'It was rare luck that we had you here: good-night, good-night, ' said Atleeas he buttoned his coat. 

'More than that, I said, "If the Cabinet here persist in sendingKostalergi--"'

'Whom did you say? What name was it you said?'

'Kostalergi--the Prince. As much a prince as you are. First of all, theyhave no better; and secondly, this is the most consummate adventurer in theEast. '

'I should like to know him. Is he here--at Athens?'

'Of course he is. He is waiting till he hears the Sultan will receive him. '

'I should like to know him, ' said Atlee, more seriously. 

'Nothing easier. He comes here every day. Will you meet him at dinnerto-morrow?'

'Delighted! but then I should like a little conversation with him in themorning. Perhaps you would kindly make me known to him?'

'With sincere pleasure. I'll write and ask him to dine--and I'll say thatyou will wait on him. I'll say, "My distinguished friend Mr. Atlee, of whomyou have heard, will wait on you about eleven or twelve. " Will that do?'

'Perfectly. So then I may make my visit on the presumption of beingexpected?'

'Certainly. Not that Kostalergi wants much preparation. He plays baccaratall night, but he is at his desk at six. '

'Is he rich?'

'Hasn't a sixpence--but plays all the same. And what people are moresurprised at, pays when he loses. If I had not already passed an eveningin your company, I should be bold enough to hint to you the need ofcaution--great caution--in talking with him. '

'I know--I am aware, ' said Atlee, with a meaning smile. 

'You will not be misled by his cunning, Mr. Atlee, but beware of hiscandour. '

'I will be on my guard. Many thanks for the caution. Good-night!--oncemore, good-night!'

CHAPTER LXIV

GREEK MEETS GREEK

So excited did Atlee feel about meeting the father of Nina Kostalergi--ofwhose strange doings and adventurous life he had heard much--that hescarcely slept the entire night. It puzzled him greatly to determine inwhat character he should present himself to this crafty Greek. Politicalamateurship was now so popular in England, that he might easily enoughpass off for one of those 'Bulls' desirous to make himself up on the Greekquestion. This was a part that offered no difficulty. 'Give me fiveminutes of any man--a little longer with a woman--and I'll know wherehis sympathies incline to. ' This was a constant boast of his, and notaltogether a vain one. He might be an archæological traveller eager aboutnew-discovered relics and curious about ruined temples. He might be ayachting man, who only cared for Salamis as good anchorage, nor thought ofthe Acropolis, except as a point of departure; or he might be one of thosemyriads who travel without knowing where, or caring why: airing their ennuinow at Thebes, now at Trolhatten; a weariful, dispirited race, who rarelylook so thoroughly alive as when choosing a cigar or changing their money. There was no reason why the 'distinguished Mr. Atlee' might not be one ofthese--he was accredited, too, by his Minister, and his 'solidarity, ' asthe French call it, was beyond question. 

While yet revolving these points, a kavass--with much gold in his jacket, and a voluminous petticoat of white calico--came to inform him that hisExcellency the Prince hope to see him at breakfast at eleven o'clock; andit now only wanted a few minutes of that hour. Atlee detained the messengerto show him the road, and at last set out. 

Traversing one dreary, ill-built street after another, they arrived at lastat what seemed a little lane, the entrance to which carriages were deniedby a line of stone posts, at the extremity of which a small green gateappeared in a wall. Pushing this wide open, the kavass stood respectfully, while Atlee passed in, and found himself in what for Greece was a garden. There were two fine palm-trees, and a small scrub of oleanders and dwarfcedars that grew around a little fish-pond, where a small Triton in themiddle, with distended cheeks, should have poured forth a refreshing jet ofwater, but his lips were dry, and his conch-shell empty, and the muddy tankat his feet a mere surface of broad water-lilies convulsively shaken bybull-frogs. A short shady path led to the house, a two-storeyed edifice, with the external stair of wood that seemed to crawl round it on everyside. 

In a good-sized room of the ground-floor Atlee found the prince awaitinghim. He was confined to a sofa by a slight sprain, he called it, andapologised for his not being able to rise. 

The prince, though advanced in years, was still handsome: his features hadall the splendid regularity of their Greek origin; but in the enormousorbits, of which the tint was nearly black, and the indented temples, traversed by veins of immense size, and the firm compression of his lips, might be read the signs of a man who carried the gambling spirit into everyincident of life, one ready 'to back his luck, ' and show a bold front tofortune when fate proved adverse. 

The Greek's manner was perfect. There was all the ease of a man used tosociety, with a sort of half-sly courtesy, as he said, 'This is kindness, Mr. Atlee--this is real kindness. I scarcely thought an Englishman wouldhave the courage to call upon anything so unpopular as I am. '

'I have come to see you and the Parthenon, Prince, and I have begun withyou. '

'And you will tell them, when you get home, that I am not the terriblerevolutionist they think me: that I am neither Danton nor Félix Pyat, buta very mild and rather tiresome old man, whose extreme violence goes nofurther than believing that people ought to be masters in their own house, and that when any one disputes the right, the best thing is to throw himout of the window. '

'If he will not go by the door, ' remarked Atlee. 

'No, I would not give him the chance of the door. Otherwise you make nodistinction between your friends and your enemies. It is by the mildmethods--what you call "milk-and-water methods"--men spoil all theirefforts for freedom. You always want to cut off somebody's head and spillno blood. There's the mistake of those Irish rebels: they tell me they havecourage, but I find it hard to believe them. '

'Do believe them then, and know for certain that there is not a braverpeople in Europe. '

'How do you keep them down, then?'

'You must not ask _me_ that, for I am one of them. '

'You Irish?'

'Yes, Irish--very Irish. '

'Ah! I see. Irish in an English sense? Just as there are Greeks herewho believe in Kulbash Pasha, and would say, Stay at home and till yourcurrant-fields and mind your coasting trade. Don't try to be civilised, forcivilisation goes badly with brigandage, and scarcely suits trickery. Andyou are aware, Mr. Atlee, that trickery and brigandage are more to Greecethan olives or dried figs?'

There was that of mockery in the way he said this, and the littlesmile that played about his mouth when he finished, that left Atlee inconsiderable doubt how to read him. 

'I study your newspapers, Mr. Atlee, ' resumed he. 'I never omit to readyour _Times_, and I see how my old acquaintance, Lord Danesbury, has beenmaking Turkey out of Ireland! It is so hard to persuade an old ambassadorthat you cannot do everything by corruption!'

'I scarcely think you do him justice. '

'Poor Danesbury, ' ejaculated he sorrowfully. 

'You opine that his policy is a mistake?'

'Poor Danesbury!' said he again. 

'He is one of our ablest men, notwithstanding. At this moment we have nothis superior in anything. '

'I was going to say, Poor Danesbury, but I now say, Poor England. '

Atlee bit his lips with anger at the sarcasm, but went on, 'I infer you arenot aware of the exact share subordinates have had in what you call LordDanesbury's Irish blunders--'

'Pardon my interrupting you, but a really able man has no subordinates. Hisinferior agents are so thoroughly absorbed by his own individualitythat they have no wills--no instincts--and, therefore, they can do noindiscretions They are the simple emanations of himself in action. '

'In Turkey, perhaps, ' said Atlee, with a smile. 

'If in Turkey, why not in England, or, at least, in Ireland? If you arewell served--and mind, you must be well served, or you are powerless--youcan always in political life see the adversary's hand. That he sees yours, is of course true: the great question then is, how much you mean to misleadhim by the showing it? I give you an instance: Lord Danesbury's clevereststroke in policy here, the one hit probably he made in the East, was tohave a private correspondence with the Khedive made known to the Russianembassy, and induce Gortschakoff to believe that he could not trust thePasha! All the Russian preparations to move down on the Provinces werecountermanded. The stores of grain that were being made on the Pruth werearrested, and three, nearly four weeks elapsed before the mistake wasdiscovered, and in that interval England had reinforced the squadron atMalta, and taken steps to encourage Turkey--always to be done by money, orpromise of money. '

'It was a _coup_ of great adroitness, ' said Atlee. 

'It was more, ' cried the Greek, with elation. 'It was a move of suchsubtlety as smacks of something higher than the Saxon! The men who do thesethings have the instinct of their craft. It is theirs to understand thatchemistry of human motives by which a certain combination results ineffects totally remote from the agents that produce it. Can you follow me?'

'I believe I can. '

'I would rather say, Is my attempt at an explanation sufficiently clear tobe intelligible?'

Atlee looked fixedly at him, and he could do so unobserved, for the otherwas now occupied in preparing his pipe, without minding the question. Therefore Atlee set himself to study the features before him. It wasevident enough, from the intensity of his gaze and a certain trembling ofhis upper lip, that the scrutiny cost him no common effort. It was, infact, the effort to divine what, if he mistook to read aright, would be anirreparable blunder. 

With the long-drawn inspiration a man makes before he adventures a daringfeat, he said: 'It is time I should be candid with you, Prince. It is timeI should tell you that I am in Greece only to see _you_. '

'To see me?' said the other, and a very faint flush passed across his face. 

'To see you, ' said Atlee slowly, while he drew out a pocket-book and tookfrom it a letter. 'This, ' said he, handing it, 'is to your address. ' Thewords on the cover were M. Spiridionides. 

'I am Spiridion Kostalergi, and by birth a Prince of Delos, ' said theGreek, waving back the letter. 

'I am well aware of that, and it is only in perfect confidence that Iventure to recall a past that your Excellency will see I respect, ' andAtlee spoke with an air of deference. 

'The antecedents of the men who serve this country are not to be measuredby the artificial habits of a people who regulate condition by money. _Your_ statesmen have no need to be journalists, teachers, tutors;Frenchmen and Italians are all these, and on the Lower Danube and in Greecewe are these and something more. --Nor are we less politicians that we aremore men of the world. --The little of statecraft that French Emperor everknew, he picked up in his days of exile. ' All this he blurted out in shortand passionate bursts, like an angry man who was trying to be logical inhis anger, and to make an effort of reason subdue his wrath. 

'If I had not understood these things as you yourself understand them, Ishould not have been so indiscreet as to offer you that letter, ' and oncemore he proffered it. 

This time the Greek took it, tore open the envelope, and read it through. 

'It is from Lord Danesbury, ' said he at length. 'When we parted last, Iwas, in a certain sense, my lord's subordinate--that is, there were thingsnone of his staff or secretaries or attachés or dragomen could do, and Icould do them. Times are changed, and if we are to meet again, it will beas colleagues. It is true, Mr. Atlee, the ambassador of England and theenvoy of Greece are not exactly of the same rank. I do not permit myselfmany illusions, and this is not one of them; but remember, if Great Britainbe a first-rate Power, Greece is a volcano. It is for us to say when thereshall be an eruption. '

It was evident, from the rambling tenor of this speech, he was speakingrather to conceal his thoughts and give himself time for reflection, thanto enunciate any definite opinion; and so Atlee, with native acuteness, read him, as he simply bowed a cold assent. 

'Why should I give him back his letters?' burst out the Greek warmly. 'What does he offer me in exchange for them? Money! mere money! By whatpresumption does he assume that I must be in such want of money, that theonly question should be the sum? May not the time come when I shall bequestioned in our chamber as to certain matters of policy, and my onlyvindication be the documents of this same English ambassador, writtenin his own hand, and signed with his name? Will you tell me that thetriumphant assertion of a man's honour is not more to him than bank-notes?'

Though the heroic spirit of this speech went but a short way to deceiveAtlee, who only read it as a plea for a higher price, it was his policy toseem to believe every word of it, and he looked a perfect picture of quietconviction. 

'You little suspect what these letters are?' said the Greek. 

I believe I know: I rather think I have a catalogue of them and theircontents, ' mildly hinted the other. 

'Ah! indeed, and are you prepared to vouch for the accuracy andcompleteness of your list?'

'You must be aware it is only my lord himself can answer that question. '

'Is there--in your enumeration--is there the letter about Crete? and thefalse news that deceived the Baron de Baude? Is there the note of myinstructions to the Khedive? Is there--I'm sure there is not--any mentionof the negotiation with Stephanotis Bey?'

'I have seen Stephanotis myself; I have just come from him, ' said Atlee, grasping at the escape the name offered. 

'Ah, you know the old Paiikao?'

'Intimately; we are, I hope, close friends; he was at Kulbash Pasha's whileI was there, and we had much talk together. '

'And from him it was you learned that Spiridionides was SpiridionKostalergi?' said the Greek slowly. 

'Surely this is not meant as a question, or, at least, a question to beanswered?' said Atlee, smiling. 

'No, no, of course not, ' replied the other politely. 'We are chattingtogether, if not like old friends, like men who have every element tobecome dear friends. We see life pretty much from the same point of view, Mr. Atlee, is it not so?'

'It would be a great flattery to me to think it. ' And Joe's eyes sparkledas he spoke. 

'One has to make his choice somewhat early in the world, whether he willhunt or be hunted: I believe that is about the case. '

'I suspect so. '

'I did not take long to decide: _I_ took my place with the wolves!' Nothingcould be more quietly uttered than these words; but there was a savageferocity in his look as he said them that held Atlee almost spell-bound. 'And you, Mr. Atlee? and you? I need scarcely ask where _your_ choicefell!' It was so palpable that the words meant a compliment, Atlee had onlyto smile a polite acceptance of them. 

'These letters, ' said the Greek, resuming, and like one who had notmentally lapsed from the theme--'these letters are all that my lord deemsthem. They are the very stuff that, in your country of publicity and freediscussion, would make or mar the very best reputations amongst you. And, 'added he, after a pause, 'there are none of them destroyed, none!'

'He is aware of that. '

'No, he is not aware of it to the extent I speak of, for many of thedocuments that he believed he saw burned in his own presence, on his ownhearth, are here, here in the room we sit in! So that I am in the proudposition of being able to vindicate his policy in many cases where hismemory might prove weak or fallacious. '

'Although I know Lord Danesbury's value for these papers does not bear outyour own, I will not suffer myself to discuss the point. I return at onceto what I have come for. Shall I make you an offer in money for them, Monsieur Kostalergi?'

'What is the amount you propose?'

'I was to negotiate for a thousand pounds first. I was to give two thousandat the last resort. I will begin at the last resort and pay you two. '

'Why not piastres, Mr. Atlee? I am sure your instructions must have saidpiastres. '

Quite unmoved by the sarcasm, Atlee took out his pocket-book and readfrom a memorandum: 'Should M. Kostalergi refuse your offer, or think itinsufficient, on no account let the negotiation take any turn of acrimonyor recrimination. He has rendered me great services in past times, and itwill be for himself to determine whether he should do or say what should inany way bar our future relations together. '

'This is not a menace?' said the Greek, smiling superciliously. 

'No. It is simply an instruction, ' said the other, after a slighthesitation. 

'The men who make a trade of diplomacy, ' said the Greek haughtily, 'reserveit for their dealings with Cabinets. In home or familiar intercourse theyare straightforward and simple. Without these papers your noble mastercannot return to Turkey as ambassador. Do not interrupt me. He cannot comeback as ambassador to the Porte! It is for him to say how he estimates thepost. An ambitious man with ample reason for his ambition, an able man witha thorough conviction of his ability, a patriotic man who understood andsaw the services he could render to his country, would not bargain at theprice the place should cost him, nor say ten thousand pounds too much topay for it. '

'Ten thousand pounds!' exclaimed Atlee, but in real and unfeignedastonishment. 

'I have said ten thousand, and I will not say nine--nor nine thousand ninehundred. '

Atlee slowly arose and took his hat. 

'I have too much respect for yourself and for your time, M. Kostalergi, toimpose any longer on your leisure. I have no need to say that your proposalis totally unacceptable. '

'You have not heard it all, sir. The money is but a part of what I insiston. I shall demand, besides, that the British ambassador at Constantinopleshall formally support my claim to be received as envoy from Greece, andthat the whole might of England be pledged to the ratification of myappointment. '

A very cold but not uncourteous smile was all Atlee's acknowledgment ofthis speech. 

'There are small details which regard my title and the rank that I layclaim to. With these I do not trouble you. I will merely say I reserve themif we should discuss this in future. '

'Of that there is little prospect. Indeed, I see none whatever. I may saythis much, however, Prince, that I shall most willingly undertake to placeyour claims to be received as Minister for Greece at the Porte under LordDanesbury's notice, and, I have every hope, for favourable consideration. We are not likely to meet again: may I assume that we part friends?'

'You only anticipate my own sincere desire. '

As they passed slowly through the garden, Atlee stopped and said: 'HadI been able to tell my lord, "The Prince is just named special envoy atConstantinople. The Turks are offended at something he has done in Crete orThessaly. Without certain pressure on the Divan they will not receive him. Will your lordship empower me to say that you will undertake this, and, moreover, enable me to assure him that all the cost and expenditure of hisoutfit shall be met in a suitable form?" If, in fact, you give me yourpermission to submit such a basis as this, I should leave Athens farhappier than I feel now. '

'The Chamber has already voted the outfit. It is very modest, but it isenough. Our national resources are at a low ebb. You might, indeed--thatis, if you still wished to plead my cause--you might tell my lord that Ihad destined this sum as the fortune of my daughter. I have a daughter, Mr. Atlee, and at present sojourning in your own country. And though at onetime I was minded to recall her, and take her with me to Turkey, I havegrown to doubt whether it would be a wise policy. Our Greek contingenciesare too many and too sudden to let us project very far in life. '

'Strange enough, ' said Atlee thoughtfully, 'you have just--as it were bymere hazard--struck the one chord in the English nature that will alwaysrespond to the appeal of a home affection. Were I to say, "Do you know whyKostalergi makes so hard a bargain? It is to endow a daughter. It is thesole provision he stipulates to make her--Greek statesmen can amass nofortunes--this hazard will secure the girl's future!" On my life, I cannotthink of one argument that would have equal weight. '

Kostalergi smiled faintly, but did not speak. 

'Lord Danesbury never married, but I know with what interest and affectionhe follows the fortunes of men who live to secure the happiness of theirchildren. It is the one plea he could not resist; to be sure he might say, "Kostalergi told you this, and perhaps at the time he himself believed it;but how can a man who likes the world and its very costliest pleasuresguard himself against his own habits? Who is to pledge his honour that thegirl will ever be the owner of this sum?"'

'I shall place _that_ beyond a cavil or a question: he shall be himself herguardian. The money shall not leave his hands till she marries. You haveyour own laws, by which a man can charge his estate with the payment of acertain amount. My lord, if he assents to this, will know how it may bedone. I repeat, I do not desire to touch a drachma of the sum. '

'You interest me immensely. I cannot tell you how intensely I feelinterested in all this. In fact, I shall own to you frankly that you haveat last employed an argument, I do not know how, even if I wished, toanswer. Am I at liberty to state this pretty much as you have told it?'

'Every word of it. '

'Will you go further--will you give me a little line, a memorandum in yourown hand, to show that I do not misstate nor mistake you--that I have yourmeaning correctly, and without even a chance of error?'

'I will write it formally and deliberately. '

The bell of the outer door rang at the moment. It was a telegraphic messageto Atlee, to say that the steamer had perfected her repairs and would sailthat evening. 

'You mean to sail with her?' asked the Greek. 'Well, within an hour, youshall have my packet. Good-bye. I have no doubt we shall hear of each otheragain. '

'I think I could venture to bet on it, ' were Atlee's last words as heturned away. 

CHAPTER LXV

IN TOWN

Lord Danesbury had arrived at Bruton Street to confer with certain membersof the Cabinet who remained in town after the session, chiefly to consultwith him. He was accompanied by his niece, Lady Maude, and by Walpole, thelatter continuing to reside under his roof, rather from old habit than fromany strong wish on either side. 

Walpole had obtained a short extension of his leave, and employed thetime in endeavouring to make up his mind about a certain letter to NinaKostalergi, which he had written nearly fifty times in different versionsand destroyed. Neither his lordship nor his niece ever saw him. They knewhe had a room or two somewhere, a servant was occasionally encountered onthe way to him with a breakfast-tray and an urn; his letters were seen onthe hall-table; but, except these, he gave no signs of life--never appearedat luncheon or at dinner--and as much dropped out of all memory or interestas though he had ceased to be. 

It was one evening, yet early--scarcely eleven o'clock--as Lord Danesbury'slittle party of four Cabinet chiefs had just departed, that he sat atthe drawing-room fire with Lady Maude, chatting over the events of theevening's conversation, and discussing, as men will do at times, thecharacters of their guests. 

'It has been nearly as tiresome as a Cabinet Council, Maude!' said he, witha sigh, 'and not unlike it in one thing--it was almost always the men whoknew least of any matter who discussed it most exhaustively. '

'I conclude you know what you are going out to do, my lord, and do not careto hear the desultory notions of people who know nothing. '

'Just so. What could a First Lord tell me about those Russian intriguesin Albania, or is it likely that a Home Secretary is aware of what ispreparing in Montenegro? They get hold of some crotchet in the _Revue desDeux Mondes_, and assuming it all to be true, they ask defiantly, "Howare you going to deal with that? Why did you not foresee the other?" andsuch like. How little they know, as that fellow Atlee says, that a manevolves his Turkey out of the necessities of his pocket, and captures hisConstantinople to pay for a dinner at the "Frères. " What fleets of Russiangunboats have I seen launched to procure a few bottles of champagne! Iremember a chasse of Kersch, with the café, costing a whole battery ofKrupp's breech-loaders!'

'Are our own journals more correct?'

'They are more cautious, Maude--far more cautious. Nine days' wonders withus would be too costly. Nothing must be risked that can affect the funds. The share-list is too solemn a thing for joking. '

'The Premier was very silent to-night, ' said she, after a pause. 

'He generally is in company: he looks like a man bored at being obliged tolisten to people saying the things that he knows as well, and could tellbetter, than they do. '

'How completely he appears to have forgiven or forgotten the Irish fiasco. '

'Of course he has. An extra blunder in the conduct of Irish affairs is onlylike an additional mask in a fancy ball--the whole thing is motley; andasking for consistency would be like requesting the company to behave likearch-deacons. '

'And so the mischief has blown over?'

'In a measure it has. The Opposition quarrelled amongst themselves; andsuch as were not ready to take office if we were beaten, declined to pressthe motion. The irresponsibles went on, as they always do, to their owndestruction. They became violent, and, of course, our people appealedagainst the violence, and with such temperate language and good-breedingthat we carried the House with us. '

'I see there was quite a sensation about the word "villain. "'

'No; miscreant. It was miscreant--a word very popular in O'Connell's day, but rather obsolete now. When the Speaker called on the member for anapology, we had won the day! These rash utterances in debate are theexplosive balls that no one must use in battle; and if we only discover onein a fellow's pouch, we discredit the whole army. '

'I forget; did they press for a division?'

'No; we stopped them. We agreed to give them a "special committee toinquire. " Of all devices for secrecy invented, I know of none like a"special committee of inquiry. " Whatever people have known beforehand, their faith will now be shaken in, and every possible or accidentalcontingency assume a shape, a size, and a stability beyond all belief. Theyhave got their committee, and I wish them luck of it! The only men whocould tell them anything will take care not to criminate themselves, andthe report will be a plaintive cry over a country where so few peoplecan be persuaded to tell the truth, and nobody should seem any worse inconsequence. '

'Cecil certainly did it, ' said she, with a certain bitterness. 'I supposehe did. These young players are always thinking of scoring eight or ten ona single hazard: one should never back them!'

'Mr. Atlee said there was some female influence at work. He would not tellwhat nor whom. Possibly he did not know. '

'I rather suspect he _did_ know. They were people, if I mistake not, belonging to that Irish castle--Kil--Kil-somebody, or Kil-something. '

'Was Walpole flirting there? was he going to marry one of them?'

'Flirting, I take it, must have been the extent of the folly. Cecil oftensaid he could not marry Irish. I have known men do it! You are aware, Maude, ' and here he looked with uncommon gravity, 'the penal laws have allbeen repealed. '

'I was speaking of society, my lord, not the statutes, ' said sheresentfully, and half suspicious of a sly jest. 

'Had she money?' asked he curtly. 

'I cannot tell; I know nothing of these people whatever! I remembersomething--it was a newspaper story--of a girl that saved Cecil's lifeby throwing herself before him--a very pretty incident it was; but thesethings make no figure in a settlement; and a woman may be as bold as Joanof Arc, and not have sixpence. Atlee says you can always settle the courageon the younger children. '

'Atlee's an arrant scamp, ' said my lord, laughing. 'He should have writtensome days since. '

'I suppose he is too late for the borough: the Cradford election comes onnext week?' Though there could not be anything more languidly indifferentthan her voice in this question, a faint pinkish tinge flitted across hercheek, and left it colourless as before. 

'Yes, he has his address out, and there is a sort of committee--certainlicensed-victualler people--to whom he has been promising some especialSabbath-breaking that they yearn after. I have not read it. '

'I have; and it is cleverly written, and there is little more radical init than we heard this very day at dinner. He tells the electors, "You areno more bound to the support of an army or a navy, if you do not wish tofight, than to maintain the College of Surgeons or Physicians, if youobject to take physic. " He says, "To tell _me_ that I, with eight shillingsa week, have an equal interest in resisting invasion as your Lord Dido, with eighty thousand per annum, is simply nonsense. If you, " cries he toone of his supporters, "were to be offered your life by a highwayman onsurrendering some few pence or halfpence you carried in _your_ pocket, youdo not mean to dictate what my Lord Marquis might do, who has got a goldwatch and a pocketful of notes in _his_. And so I say once more, let therich pay for the defence of what they value. You and I have nothing worthfighting for, and we will not fight. Then as to religion--"'

'Oh, spare me his theology! I can almost imagine it, Maude. I had noconception he was such a Radical. '

'He is not really, my lord; but he tells me that we must all go throughthis stage. It is, as he says, like a course of those waters whose benefitis exactly in proportion to the way they disagree with you at first. Heeven said, one evening before he went away, "Take my word for it, LadyMaude, we shall be burning these apostles of ballot and universal suffragein effigy one day; but I intend to go beyond every one else in themeanwhile, else the rebound will lose half its excellence. "'

'What is this?' cried he, as the servant entered with a telegram. 'This isfrom Athens, Maude, and in cipher, too. How are we to make it out. '

'Cecil has the key, my lord. It is the diplomatic cipher. '

'Do you think you could find it in his room, Maude? It is possible thismight be imminent. '

'I shall see if he is at home, ' said she, rising to ring the bell. Theservant sent to inquire returned, saying that Mr. Walpole had dined abroad, and not returned since dinner. 

'I'm sure you could find the book, Maude, and it is a small square-shapedvolume, bound in dark Russia leather, marked with F. O. On the cover. '

'I know the look of it well enough; but I do not fancy ransacking Cecil'schamber. '

'I do not know that I should like to await his return to read my despatch. I can just make out that it comes from Atlee. '

'I suppose I had better go, then, ' said she reluctantly, as she rose andleft the room. 

Ordering the butler to precede and show her the way, Lady Maude ascendedto a storey above that she usually inhabited, and found herself in a veryspacious chamber, with an alcove, into which a bed fitted, the remainingspace being arranged like an ordinary sitting-room. There were numerouschairs and sofas of comfortable form, a well-cushioned ottoman, smelling, indeed, villainously of tobacco, and a neat writing-table, with a mostluxurious arrangement of shaded wax-lights above it. 

A singularly well-executed photograph of a young and very lovely woman, with masses of loose hair flowing over her neck and shoulders, stood ona little easel on the desk, and it was, strange enough, with a sense ofactual relief, Maude read the word Titian on the frame. It was a copy ofthe great master's picture in the Dresden Gallery, and of which there is areplica in the Barberini Palace at Rome; but still the portrait had anothermemory for Lady Maude, who quickly recalled the girl she had once seenin a crowded assembly, passing through a murmur of admiration that noconventionality could repress, and whose marvellous beauty seemed to glowwith the homage it inspired. 

Scraps of poetry, copies of verses, changed and blotted couplets, werescrawled on loose sheets of paper on the desk; but Maude minded none ofthese, as she pushed them away to rest her arm on the table, while she satgazing on the picture. 

The face had so completely absorbed her attention--so, to say, fascinatedher--that when the servant had found the volume he was in search of, andpresented it to her, she merely said, 'Take it to my lord, ' and sat still, with her head resting on her hands, and her eyes fixed on the portrait. 'There may be some resemblance, there may be, at least, what might remindpeople of "the Laura "--so was it called; but who will pretend that _she_carried her head with that swing of lofty pride, or that _her_ look couldrival the blended majesty and womanhood we see here! I do not--I cannotbelieve it!'

'What is it, Maude, that you will not or cannot believe?' said a low voice, and she saw Walpole standing beside her. 

'Let me first excuse myself for being here, ' said she, blushing. 'I camein search of that little cipher-book to interpret a despatch that has justcome. When Fenton found it, I was so engrossed by this pretty face that Ihave done nothing but gaze at it. '

'And what was it that seemed so incredible as I came in?'

'Simply this, then, that any one should be so beautiful. '

'Titian seems to have solved that point; at least, Vasari tells us this wasa portrait of a lady of the Guicciardini family. '

'I know--I know that, ' said she impatiently; 'and we do see faces inwhich Titian or Velasquez have stamped nobility and birth as palpably asthey have printed loveliness and expression. And such were these women, daughters in a long line of the proud Patricians who once ruled Rome. '

'And yet, ' said he slowly, 'that portrait has its living counterpart. '

'I am aware of whom you speak: the awkward angular girl we all saw at Rome, whom young gentlemen called the Tizziana. '

'She is certainly no longer awkward, nor angular, now, if she were once so, which I do not remember. She is a model of grace and symmetry, and as muchmore beautiful than that picture as colour, expression, and movement arebetter than a lifeless image. '

'There is the fervour of a lover in your words, Cecil, ' said she, smilingfaintly. 

'It is not often I am so forgetful, ' muttered he; 'but so it is, ourcousinship has done it all, Maude. One revels in expansiveness with hisown, and I can speak to you as I cannot speak to another. '

'It is a great flattery to me. '

'In fact, I feel that at last I have a sister--a dear and loving spiritwho will give to true friendship those delightful traits of pity andtenderness, and even forgiveness, of which only the woman's nature can knowthe needs. '

Lady Maude rose slowly, without a word. Nothing of heightened colour ormovement of her features indicated anger or indignation, and though Walpolestood with an affected submissiveness before her, he marked her closely. 'I am sure, Maude, ' continued he, 'you must often have wished to have abrother. '

'Never so much as at this moment!' said she calmly--and now she had reachedthe door. 'If I had had a brother, Cecil Walpole, it is possible I mighthave been spared this insult!'

The next moment the door closed, and Walpole was alone. 

CHAPTER LXVI

ATLEE'S MESSAGE

'I am right, Maude, ' said Lord Danesbury as his niece re-entered thedrawing-room. 'This is from Atlee, who is at Athens; but why there I cannotmake out as yet. There are, according to the book, two explanations here. 491 means a white dromedary or the chief clerk, and B + 49 = 12 stands forour envoy in Greece or a snuffer-dish. '

'Don't you think, my lord, it would be better for you to send this up toCecil? He has just come in. He has had much experience of these things. '

'You are quite right, Maude; let Fenton take it up and beg for a speedytranscript of it. I should like to see it at once!'

While his lordship waited for his despatch, he grumbled away abouteverything that occurred to him, and even, at last, about the presence ofthe very man, Walpole, who was at that same moment engaged in serving him. 

'Stupid fellow, ' muttered he, 'why does he ask for extension of his leave?Staying in town here is only another name for spending money. He'll have togo out at last; better do it at once!'

'He may have his own reasons, my lord, for delay, ' said Maude, rather tosuggest further discussion of the point. 

'He may think he has, I've no doubt. These small creatures have alwaysscores of irons in the fire. So it was when I agreed to go to Ireland. There were innumerable fine things and clever things he was to do. Therewere schemes by which "the Cardinal" was to be cajoled, and the whole Barbamboozled. Every one was to have office dangled before his eyes, and to betreated so confidentially and affectionately, under disappointment, thateven when a man got nothing he would feel he had secured the regard of thePrime Minister! If I took him out to Turkey to-morrow, he'd never be easytill he had a plan "to square" the Grand-Vizier, and entrap Gortschakoff orMiliutin. These men don't know that a clever fellow no more goes in searchof rogueries than a foxhunter looks out for stiff fences. You "take them"when they lie before you, that's all. ' This little burst of indignationseemed to have the effect on him of a little wholesome exercise, for heappeared to feel himself better and easier after it. 

'Dear me! dear me!' muttered he, 'how pleasant one's life might be if itwere not for the clever fellows! I mean, of course, ' added he, after asecond or two, 'the clever fellows who want to impress us with theircleverness. '

Maude would not be entrapped or enticed into what might lead to adiscussion. She never uttered a word, and he was silent. 

It was in the perfect stillness that followed that Walpole entered the roomwith the telegram in his hand, and advanced to where Lord Danesbury wassitting. 

'I believe, my lord, I have made out this message in such a shape aswill enable you to divine what it means. It runs thus: "_Athens, 5th, 12o'clock. Have seen S----, and conferred at length with him. His estimate ofvalue_" or "_his price_"--for the signs will mean either--"_to my thinkingenormous. His reasonings certainly strong and not easy to rebut_. " That maybe possibly rendered, "_demands that might probably be reduced. _" "_I leaveto-day, and shall be in England by middle of next week. _--ATLEE. "'

Walpole looked keenly at the other's face as he read the paper, to markwhat signs of interest and eagerness the tidings might evoke. There was, however, nothing to be read in those cold and quiet features. 

'I am glad he is coming back, ' said he at length. 'Let us see: he can reachMarseilles by Monday, or even Sunday night. I don't see why he should notbe here Wednesday, or Thursday at farthest. By the way, Cecil, tell mesomething about our friend--who is he?'

[Illustration: Walpole looked keenly at the other's face as he read thepaper]

'Don't know, my lord. '

'Don't know! How came you acquainted with him?'

'Met him at a country-house, where I happened to break my arm, and tookadvantage of this young fellow's skill in surgery to engage his services tocarry me to town. There's the whole of it. '

'Is he a surgeon?'

'No, my lord, any more than he is fifty other things, of which he has asmattering. '

'Has he any means--any private fortune?'

'I suspect not. '

'Who and what are his family? Are there Atlees in Ireland?'

'There may be, my lord. There was an Atlee, a college porter, in Dublin;but I heard our friend say that they were only distantly related. '

He could not help watching Lady Maude as he said this, and was rejoiced tosee a sudden twitch of her lower lip as if in pain. 

'You evidently sent him over to me, then, on a very meagre knowledge of theman, ' said his lordship rebukingly. 

'I believe, my lord, I said at the time that I had by me a clever fellow, who wrote a good hand, could copy correctly, and was sufficient of agentleman in his manners to make intercourse with him easy, and notdisagreeable. '

'A very guarded recommendation, ' said Lady Maude, with a smile. 

'Was it not, Maude?' continued he, his eyes flashing with triumphantinsolence. 

'_I_ found he could do more than copy a despatch--I found he could writeone. He replied to an article in the _Edinburgh_ on Turkey, and I saw himwrite it as I did not know there was another man but myself in Englandcould have done. '

'Perhaps your lordship had talked over the subject in his presence, or withhim?'

'And if I had, sir? and if all his knowledge on a complex question was suchas he could carry away from a random conversation, what a gifted dog hemust be to sift the wheat from the chaff--to strip a question of what weremere accidental elements, and to test a difficulty by its real qualities. Atlee is a clever fellow, an able fellow, I assure you. That very telegrambefore us is a proof how he can deal with a matter on which instructionwould be impossible. '

'Indeed, my lord!' said Walpole, with well-assumed innocence. 

'I am right glad to know he is coming home. He must demolish that writer inthe _Revue des Deux Mondes_ at once--some unprincipled French blackguard, who has been put up to attack me by Thouvenel!'

Would it have appeased his lordship's wrath to know that the writer of thisdefamatory article was no other than Joe Atlee himself, and that the replywhich was to 'demolish it' was more than half-written in his desk at thatmoment?

'I shall ask, ' continued my lord, 'I shall ask him, besides, to write apaper on Ireland, and that fiasco of yours, Cecil. '

'Much obliged, my lord!'

'Don't be angry or indignant! A fellow with a neat, light hand like Atleecan, even under the guise of allegation, do more to clear you than scoresof vulgar apologists. He can, at least, show that what our distinguishedhead of the Cabinet calls "the flesh-and-blood argument, " has its fullweight with us in our government of Ireland, and that our bitterest enemiescannot say we have no sympathies with the nation we rule over. '

'I suspect, my lord, that what you have so graciously called _my_ fiascois well-nigh forgotten by this time, and wiser policy would say, "Do notrevive it. "'

'There's a great policy in saying in "an article" all that could be said in"a debate, " and showing, after all, how little it comes to. Even the feeblegrievance-mongers grow ashamed at retailing the review and the newspapers;but, what is better still, if the article be smartly written, they are sureto mistake the peculiarities of style for points in the argument. I haveseen some splendid blunders of that kind when I sat in the Lower House! Iwish Atlee was in Parliament. '

'I am not aware that he can speak, my lord. '

'Neither am I; but I should risk a small bet on it. He is a ready fellow, and the ready fellows are many-sided--eh, Maude?' Now, though his lordshiponly asked for his niece's concurrence in his own sage remark, Walpoleaffected to understand it as a direct appeal to her opinion of Atlee, andsaid, 'Is that your judgment of this gentleman, Maude?'

'I have no prescription to measure the abilities of such men as Mr. Atlee. '

'You find him pleasant, witty, and agreeable, I hope?' said he, with atouch of sarcasm. 

'Yes, I think so. '

'With an admirable memory and great readiness for an _apropos_?'

'Perhaps he has. '

'As a retailer of an incident they tell me he has no rival. '

'I cannot say. '

'Of course not. I take it the fellow has tact enough not to tell storieshere. '

'What is all that you are saying there?' cried his lordship, to whom thesefew sentences were an 'aside. '

'Cecil is praising Mr. Atlee, my lord, ' said Maude bluntly. 

'I did not know I had been, my lord, ' said he. 'He belongs to that class ofmen who interest me very little. '

'What class may that be?'

'The adventurers, my lord. The fellows who make the campaign of life on thefaith that they shall find their rations in some other man's knapsack. '

'Ha! indeed. Is that our friend's line?'

'Most undoubtedly, my lord. I am ashamed to say that it was entirely my ownfault if you are saddled with the fellow at all. '

'I do not see the infliction--'

'I mean, my lord, that, in a measure, I put him on you without very wellknowing what it was that I did. '

'Have you heard--do you know anything of the man that should inspirecaution or distrust?'

'Well, these are strong words, ' muttered he hesitatingly. 

But Lady Maude broke in with a passionate tone, 'Don't you see, my lord, that he does not know anything to this person's disadvantage; that itis only my cousin's diplomatic reserve--that commendable caution of hisorder--suggests his careful conduct? Cecil knows no more of Atlee than wedo. '

'Perhaps not so much, ' said Walpole, with an impertinent simper. 

'_I_ know, ' said his lordship, 'that he is a monstrous clever fellow. Hecan find you the passage you want or the authority you are seeking for at amoment; and when he writes, he can be rapid and concise too. '

'He has many rare gifts, my lord, ' said Walpole, with the sly air of onewho had said a covert impertinence. 'I am very curious to know what youmean to do with him. '

'Mean to do with him? Why, what should I mean to do with him?'

'The very point I wish to learn. A protégé, my lord, is a parasitic plant, and you cannot deprive it of its double instincts--to cling and to climb. '

'How witty my cousin has become since his sojourn in Ireland, ' said Maude. 

Walpole flushed deeply, and for a moment he seemed about to reply angrily;but, with an effort, he controlled himself, and turning towards thetimepiece on the chimney, said, 'How late! I could not have believed it waspast one! I hope, my lord, I have made your despatch intelligible?'

'Yes, yes; I think so. Besides, he will be here in a day or two toexplain. '

'I shall, then, say good-night, my lord. Good-night, Cousin Maude. ' ButLady Maude had already left the room unnoticed. 

CHAPTER LXVII

WALPOLE ALONE

Once more in his own room, Walpole returned to the task of that letter toNina Kostalergi, of which he had made nigh fifty drafts, and not one withwhich he was satisfied. 

It was not really very easy to do what he wished. He desired to seem awarm, rapturous, impulsive lover, who had no thought in life--no other hopeor ambition--than the success of his suit. He sought to show that she hadso enraptured and enthralled him that, until she consented to share hisfortunes, he was a man utterly lost to life and life's ambitions; and whileinsinuating what a tremendous responsibility she would take on herself ifshe should venture by a refusal of him to rob the world of those abilitiesthat the age could ill spare, he also dimly shadowed the natural pride awoman ought to feel in knowing that she was asked to be the partner ofsuch a man, and that one, for whom destiny in all likelihood reserved thehighest rewards of public life, was then, with the full consciousness ofwhat he was, and what awaited him, ready to share that proud eminence withher, as a prince might have offered to share his throne. 

In spite of himself, in spite of all he could do, it was on this latterpart of his letter his pen ran most freely. He could condense his raptures, he could control in most praiseworthy fashion all the extravagances ofpassion and the imaginative joys of love, but, for the life of him, hecould abate nothing of the triumphant ecstasy that must be the feeling ofthe woman who had won him--the passionate delight of her who should be hiswife, and enter life the chosen one of his affection. 

It was wonderful how glibly he could insist on this to himself; andfancying for the moment that he was one of the outer world commentingon the match, say, 'Yes, let people decry the Walpole class how theymight--they are elegant, they are exclusive, they are fastidious, they areall that you like to call the spoiled children of Fortune in their wit, their brilliancy, and their readiness, but they are the only men, the onlymen in the world, who marry--we'll not say for "love, " for the phrase isvulgar--but who marry to please themselves! This girl had not a shilling. As to family, all is said when we say she was a Greek! Is there notsomething downright chivalrous in marrying such a woman? Is it the act of aworldly man?'

He walked the room, uttering this question to himself over and over. Not exactly that he thought disparagingly of worldliness and materialadvantages, but he had lashed himself into a false enthusiasm as toqualities which he thought had some special worshippers of their own, and whose good opinion might possibly be turned to profit somehow andsomewhere, if he only knew how and where. It was a monstrous fine thing hewas about to do; that he felt. Where was there another man in his positionwould take a portionless girl and make her his wife? Cadets and cornets inlight-dragoon regiments did these things: they liked their 'bit of beauty';and there was a sort of mock-poetry about these creatures that suited thatsort of thing; but for a man who wrote his letters from Brookes's, andwhose dinner invitations included all that was great in town, to stoop tosuch an alliance was as bold a defiance as one could throw at a world ofself-seeking and conventionality. 

'That Emperor of the French did it, ' cried he. 'I cannot recall to my mindanother. He did the very same thing I am going to do. To be sure, he hadthe "pull on me" in one point. As he said himself, "_I_ am a parvenu. " Now, _I_ cannot go that far! I must justify my act on other grounds, as I hopeI can do, ' cried he, after a pause; while, with head erect and swellingchest, he went on: 'I felt within me the place I yet should occupy. Iknew--ay, knew--the prize that awaited me, and I asked myself, "Do you seein any capital of Europe one woman with whom you would like to sharethis fortune? Is there one sufficiently gifted and graceful to make herelevation seem a natural and fitting promotion, and herself appear theappropriate occupant of the station?"

'She is wonderfully beautiful: there is no doubt of it. Such beauty as theyhave never seen here in their lives! Fanciful extravagances in dress, andatrocious hair-dressing, cannot disfigure her; and by Jove! she has triedboth. And one has only to imagine that woman dressed and "coifféed, " as shemight be, to conceive such a triumph as London has not witnessed for thecentury! And I do long for such a triumph. If my lord would only inviteus here, were it but for a week! We should be asked to Goreham and theBexsmiths'. My lady never omits to invite a great beauty. It's _her_ way toprotest that she is still handsome, and not at all jealous. How are we toget "asked" to Bruton Street?' asked he over and over, as though the soundsmust secure the answer. 'Maude will never permit it. The unlucky picturehas settled _that_ point. Maude will not suffer her to cross the threshold!But for the portrait I could bespeak my cousin's favour and indulgence fora somewhat countrified young girl, dowdy and awkward. I could plead for hergood looks in that _ad misericordiam_ fashion that disarms jealousy andenlists her generosity for a humble connection she need never see more of!If I could only persuade Maude that I had done an indiscretion, and that Iknew it, I should be sure of her friendship. Once make her believe that Ihave gone clean head over heels into a _mésalliance_, and our honeymoonhere is assured. I wish I had not tormented her about Atlee. I wishwith all my heart I had kept my impertinences to myself, and gone nofurther than certain dark hints about what I could say, if I were to beevil-minded. What rare wisdom it is not to fire away one's last cartridge. I suppose it is too late now. She'll not forgive me that disparagementbefore my uncle; that is, if there be anything between herself and Atlee, a point which a few minutes will settle when I see them together. It wouldnot be very difficult to make Atlee regard me as his friend, and as oneready to aid him in this same ambition. Of course he is prepared to see inme the enemy of all his plans. What would he not give, or say, or do, tofind me his aider and abettor? Shrewd tactician as the fellow is, he willknow all the value of having an accomplice within the fortress; and itwould be exactly from a man like myself he might be disposed to expect themost resolute opposition. '

He thought for a long time over this. He turned it over and over in hismind, canvassing all the various benefits any line of action might promise, and starting every doubt or objection he could imagine. Nor was the thoughtextraneous to his calculations that in forwarding Atlee's suit to Maude hewas exacting the heaviest 'vendetta' for her refusal of himself. 

'There is not a woman in Europe, ' he exclaimed, 'less fitted to encountersmall means and a small station--to live a life of petty economies, and bethe daily associate of a snob!'

'What the fellow may become at the end of the race--what place he may winafter years of toil and jobbery, I neither know nor care! _She_ will be anold woman by that time, and will have had space enough in the interval tomourn over her rejection of me. I shall be a Minister, not impossibly atsome court of the Continent; Atlee, to say the best, an Under-Secretaryof State for something, or a Poor-Law or Education Chief. There will bejust enough of disparity in our stations to fill her woman's heart withbitterness--the bitterness of having backed the wrong man!

'The unavailing regrets that beset us for not having taken the left-handroad in life instead of the right are our chief mental resources afterforty, and they tell me that we men only know half the poignancy of thesemiserable recollections. Women have a special adaptiveness for this kind oftorture--would seem actually to revel in it. '

He turned once more to his desk, and to the letter. Somehow he could makenothing of it. All the dangers that he desired to avoid so cramped hisingenuity that he could say little beyond platitudes; and he thought withterror of her who was to read them. The scornful contempt with which _she_would treat such a letter was all before him, and he snatched up the paperand tore it in pieces. 

'It must not be done by writing, ' cried he at last. 'Who is to guess forwhich of the fifty moods of such a woman a man's letter is to be composed?What you could say _now_ you dared not have written half an hour ago. Whatwould have gone far to gain her love yesterday, to-day will show you thedoor! It is only by consummate address and skill she can be approached atall, and without her look and bearing, the inflections of her voice, hergestures, her "pose, " to guide you, it would be utter rashness to risk herhumour. '

He suddenly bethought him at this moment that he had many things to doin Ireland ere he left England. He had tradesmen's bills to settle, and'traps' to be got rid of. 'Traps' included furniture, and books, andhorses, and horse-gear: details which at first he had hoped his friendLockwood would have taken off his hands; but Lockwood had only written himword that a Jew broker from Liverpool would give him forty pounds for hishouse effects, and as for 'the screws, ' there was nothing but an auction. 

Most of us have known at some period or other of our lives what it is tosuffer from the painful disparagement our chattels undergo when they becomeobjects of sale; but no adverse criticism of your bed or your bookcase, your ottoman or your arm-chair, can approach the sense of pain inflicted bythe impertinent comments on your horse. Every imputed blemish is a distinctpersonality, and you reject the insinuated spavin, or the suggested splint, as imputations on your honour as a gentleman. In fact, you are pushed intothe pleasant dilemma of either being ignorant as to the defects of yourbeast, or wilfully bent on an act of palpable dishonesty. When we rememberthat every confession a man makes of his unacquaintance with matters'horsy' is, in English acceptance, a count in the indictment against hisclaim to be thought a gentleman, it is not surprising that there will bemen more ready to hazard their characters than their connoisseurship. 'I'll go over myself to Ireland, ' said he at last; 'and a week will doeverything. '

CHAPTER LXVIII

THOUGHTS ON MARRIAGE

Lockwood was seated at his fireside in his quarters, the Upper Castle Yard, when Walpole burst in upon him unexpectedly. 'What! you here?' cried themajor. 'Have _you_ the courage to face Ireland again?'

'I see nothing that should prevent my coming here. Ireland certainly cannotpretend to lay a grievance to my charge. '

'Maybe not. I don't understand these things. I only know what people say inthe clubs and laugh over at dinner-tables. '

'I cannot affect to be very sensitive as to these Celtic criticisms, and Ishall not ask you to recall them. '

'They say that Danesbury got kicked out, all for your blunders!'

'Do they?' said Walpole innocently. 

'Yes; and they declare that if old Daney wasn't the most loyal fellowbreathing, he'd have thrown you over, and owned that the whole mess was ofyour own brewing, and that he had nothing to do with it. '

'Do they, indeed, say that?'

'That's not half of it, for they have a story about a woman--some womanyou met down at Kilgobbin--who made you sing rebel songs and take a Fenianpledge, and give your word of honour that Donogan should be let escape. '

'Is that all?'

'Isn't it enough? A man must be a glutton for tomfoolery if he could not besatisfied with that. '

'Perhaps you never heard that the chief of the Cabinet took a verydifferent view of my Irish policy. '

'Irish policy?' cried the other, with lifted eyebrows. 

'I said Irish policy, and repeat the words. Whatever line of politicalaction tends to bring legislation into more perfect harmony with theinstincts and impulses of a very peculiar people, it is no presumption tocall a policy. '

'With all my heart. Do you mean to deal with that old Liverpool rascal forthe furniture?'

'His offer is almost an insult. '

'Well, you'll be gratified to know he retracts it. He says now he'll onlygive £35! And as for the screws, Bobbidge, of the Carbineers, will takethem both for £50. '

'Why, Lightfoot alone is worth the money!'

'Minus the sand-crack. '

'I deny the sand-crack. She was pricked in the shoeing. '

'Of course! I never knew a broken knee that wasn't got by striking themanger, nor a sand-crack that didn't come of an awkward smith. '

'What a blessing it would be if all the bad reputations in society could bepalliated as pleasantly. '

'Shall I tell Bobbidge you take his offer? He wants an answer at once. '

'My dear major, don't you know that the fellow who says that, simply meansto say: "Don't be too sure that I shall not change my mind. " Look out thatyou take the ball at the hop!'

'Lucky if it hops at all. '

'Is that your experience of life?' said Walpole inquiringly. 

'It is one of them. Will you take £50 for the screws?'

'Yes; and as much more for the break and the dog-cart. I want every rap Ican scrape together, Harry. I'm going out to Guatemala. '

'I heard that. '

'Infernal place; at least, I believe, in climate--reptiles, fevers, assassination--it stands without a rival. '

'So they tell me. '

'It was the only thing vacant; and they rather affected a difficulty aboutgiving it. '

'So they do when they send a man to the Gold Coast; and they tell thenewspapers to say what a lucky dog he is. '

'I can stand all that. What really kills me is giving a man the C. B. Whenhe is just booked for some home of yellow fever. '

'They do that too, ' gravely observed the other, who was beginning to feelthe pace of the conversation rather too fast for him. 'Don't you smoke?'

'I'm rather reducing myself to half batta in tobacco. I've thoughts ofmarrying. '

'Don't do that. '

'Why? It's not wrong. '

'No, perhaps not; but it's stupid. '

'Come now, old fellow, life out there in the tropics is not so jolly allalone! Alligators are interesting creatures, and cheetahs are pretty pets;but a man wants a little companionship of a more tender kind; and a nicegirl who would link her fortunes with one's own, and help one through thesultry hours, is no bad thing. '

'The nice girl wouldn't go there. '

'I'm not so sure of that. With your great knowledge of life, you must knowthat there has been a glut in "the nice-girl" market these years back. Prime lots are sold for a song occasionally, and first-rate samples sent asfar as Calcutta. The truth is, the fellow who looks like a real buyer mayhave the pick of the fair, as they call it here. '

So he ought, ' growled out the major. 

'The speech is not a gallant one. You are scarcely complimentary to theladies, Lockwood. '

'It was you that talked of a woman like a cow, or a sack of corn, not I. '

'I employed an illustration to answer one of your own arguments. '

'Who is she to be?' bluntly asked the major. 

'I'll tell you whom I mean to ask, for I have not put the question yet. '

'A long, fine whistle expressed the other's astonishment. 'And are you sosure she'll say Yes?'

'I have no other assurance than the conviction that a woman might doworse. '

'Humph! perhaps she might. I'm not quite certain; but who is she to be?'

'Do you remember a visit we made together to a certain Kilgobbin Castle. '

'To be sure I do. A rum old ruin it was. '

'Do you remember two young ladies we met there?'

'Perfectly. Are you going to marry both of them?'

'My intention is to propose to one, and I imagine I need not tell youwhich?'

'Naturally, the Irish girl. She saved your life--'

'Pray let me undeceive you in a double error. It is not the Irish girl; nordid she save my life. '

'Perhaps not; but she risked her own to save yours. You said so yourself atthe time. '

'We'll not discuss the point now. I hope I feel duly grateful for theyoung lady's heroism, though it is not exactly my intention to record mygratitude in a special license. '

'A very equivocal sort of repayment, ' grumbled out Lockwood. 

'You are epigrammatic this evening, major. '

'So, then, it's the Greek you mean to marry?'

'It is the Greek I mean to ask. '

'All right. I hope she'll take you. I think, on the whole, you suit eachother. If I were at all disposed to that sort of bondage, I don't know agirl I'd rather risk the road with than the Irish cousin, Miss Kearney. '

'She is very pretty, exceedingly obliging, and has most winning manners. '

'She is good-tempered, and she is natural--the two best things a woman canbe. '

'Why not come down along with me and try your luck?'

'When do you go?'

'By the 10. 30 train to-morrow. I shall arrive at Moate by four o'clock, andreach the castle to dinner. '

'They expect you?'

'Only so far, that I have telegraphed a line to say I'm going down to bid"Good-bye" before I sail for Guatemala. I don't suspect they know wherethat is, but it's enough when they understand it is far away. '

'I'll go with you. '

'Will you really?'

'I will. I'll not say on such an errand as your own, because that requiresa second thought or two; but I'll reconnoitre, Master Cecil, I'llreconnoitre. '

'I suppose you know there is no money. '

'I should think money most unlikely in such a quarter; and it's better sheshould have none than a small fortune. I'm an old whist-player, and whenI play dummy, there's nothing I hate more than to see two or three smalltrumps in my partner's hand. '

'I imagine you'll not be distressed in that way here. '

'I've got enough to come through with; that is, the thing can be done ifthere be no extravagances. '

'Does one want for more?' cried Walpole theatrically. 

'I don't know that. If it were only ask and have, I should like to betempted. '

'I have no such ambition. I firmly believe that the moderate limits a mansets to his daily wants constitute the real liberty of his intellect andhis intellectual nature. '

'Perhaps I've no intellectual nature, then, ' growled out Lockwood, 'for Iknow how I should like to spend fifteen thousand a year. I suppose I shallhave to live on as many hundreds. '

'It can be done. '

'Perhaps it may. Have another weed?'

'No. I told you already I have begun a tobacco reformation. '

'Does she object to the pipe?'

'I cannot tell you. The fact is, Lockwood, my future and its fortunes arejust as uncertain as your own. This day week will probably have decided thedestiny of each of us. '

'To our success, then!' cried the major, filling both their glasses. 

'To our success!' said Walpole, as he drained his, and placed it upsidedown on the table. 

CHAPTER LXIX

AT KILGOBBIN CASTLE

The 'Blue Goat' at Moate was destined once more to receive the sametravellers whom we presented to our readers at a very early stage of thishistory. 

'Not much change here, ' cried Lockwood, as he strode into the littlesitting-room and sat down. 'I miss the old fellow's picture, that's all. '

'Ah! by the way, ' said Walpole to the landlord, 'you had my LordKilgobbin's portrait up there the last time I came through here. '

'Yes, indeed, sir, ' said the man, smoothing down his hair and lookingapologetically. 'But the Goats and my lord, who was the Buck Goat, got intoa little disagreement, and they sent away his picture, and his lordshipretired from the club, and--and--that was the way of it. '

'A heavy blow to your town, I take it, ' said the major, as he poured outhis beer. 

'Well, indeed, your honour, I won't say it was. You see, sir, timesis changed in Ireland. We don't care as much as we used about the"neighbouring gentry, " as they called them once; and as for the lord, there! he doesn't spend a hundred a year in Moate. '

'How is that?'

'They get what they want by rail from Dublin, your honour; and he might aswell not be here at all. '

'Can we have a car to carry us over to the castle?' asked Walpole, who didnot care to hear more of local grievances. 

'Sure, isn't my lord's car waiting for you since two o'clock!' said thehost spitefully, for he was not conciliated by a courtesy that was to losehim a fifteen-shilling fare. 'Not that there's much of a horse between theshafts, or that old Daly himself is an elegant coachman, ' continued thehost; 'but they're ready in the yard when you want them. '

The travellers had no reason to delay them in their present quarters, andtaking their places on the car, set out for the castle. 

'I scarcely thought when I last drove this road, ' said Walpole, 'that thenext time I was to come should be on such an errand as my present one. '

'Humph!' ejaculated the other. 'Our noble relative that is to be does notshine in equipage. That beast is dead lame. '

'If we had our deserts, Lockwood, we should be drawn by a team of doves, with the god Cupid on the box. '

'I'd rather have two posters and a yellow postchaise. '

A drizzling rain that now began to fall interrupted all conversation, andeach sank back into his own thoughts for the rest of the way. 

Lord Kilgobbin, with his daughter at his side, watched the car from theterrace of the castle as it slowly wound its way along the bog road. 

'As well as I can see, Kate, there is a man on each side of the car, ' saidKearney, as he handed his field-glass to his daughter. 

'Yes, papa, I see there are two travellers. '

'And I don't well know why there should be even one! There was no suchgreat friendship between us that he need come all this way to bid usgood-bye. '

'Considering the mishap that befell him here, it is a mark of good feelingto desire to see us all once more, don't you think so?'

'May be so, ' muttered he drearily. 'At all events, it's not a pleasanthouse he's coming to. Young O'Shea there upstairs, just out of a fever; andold Miss Betty, that may arrive any moment. '

'There's no question of that. She says it would be ten days or a fortnightbefore she is equal to the journey. '

'Heaven grant it!--hem--I mean that she'll be strong enough for it by thattime. At all events, if it is the same as to our fine friend, Mr. Walpole, I wish he'd have taken his leave of us in a letter. '

'It is something new, papa, to see you so inhospitable. '

'But I am not inhospitable, Kitty. Show me the good fellow that would liketo pass an evening with me and think me good company, and he shall have thebest saddle of mutton and the raciest bottle of claret in the house. Butit's only mock-hospitality to be entertaining the man that only comes outof courtesy and just stays as long as good manners oblige him. '

'I do not know that I should undervalue politeness, especially when ittakes the shape of a recognition. '

'Well, be it so, ' sighed he, almost drearily. 'If the young gentleman isso warmly attached to us all that he cannot tear himself away till he hasembraced us, I suppose there's no help for it. Where is Nina?'

'She was reading to Gorman when I saw her. She had just relieved Dick, whohas gone out for a walk. '

'A jolly house for a visitor to come to!' cried he sarcastically. 

'We are not very gay or lively, it is true, papa; but it is not unlikelythat the spirit in which our guest comes here will not need much jollity. '

'I don't take it as a kindness for a man to bring me his depression and hislow spirits. I've always more of my own than I know what to do with. Twosorrows never made a joy, Kitty. '

'There! they are lighting the lamps, ' cried she suddenly. 'I don't thinkthey can be more than three miles away. '

'Have you rooms ready, if there be two coming?'

'Yes, papa, Mr. Walpole will have his old quarters; and the stag-room is inreadiness if there be another guest. '

'I'd like to have a house as big as the royal barracks, and every room ofit occupied!' cried Kearney, with a mellow ring in his voice. 'They talkof society and pleasant company; but for real enjoyment there's nothing tocompare with what a man has under his own roof! No claret ever tastes sogood as the decanter he circulates himself. I was low enough half an hourago, and now the mere thought of a couple of fellows to dine with me cheersme up and warms my heart! I'll give them the green seal, Kitty; and I don'tknow there's another house in the county could put a bottle of '46 claretbefore them. '

'So you shall, papa. I'll go to the cellar myself and fetch it. '

Kearney hastened to make the moderate toilet he called dressing for dinner, and was only finished when his old servant informed him that two gentlemenhad arrived and gone up to their rooms. 

'I wish it was two dozen had come, ' said Kearney, as he descended to thedrawing-room. 

'It is Major Lockwood, papa, ' cried Kate, entering and drawing him into awindow-recess; 'the Major Lockwood that was here before, has come with Mr. Walpole. I met him in the hall while I had the basket with the wine in myhand, and he was so cordial and glad to see me you cannot think. '

'He knew that green wax, Kitty. He tasted that "bin" when he was herelast. '

'Perhaps so; but he certainly seemed overjoyed at something. '

'Let me see, ' muttered he, 'wasn't he the big fellow with the longmoustaches?'

'A tall, very good-looking man; dark as a Spaniard, and not unlike one. '

'To be sure, to be sure. I remember him well. He was a capital shot withthe pistol, and he liked his wine. By the way, Nina did not take to him. '

'How do you remember that, papa?' said she archly. 

If I don't mistake, she told me so, or she called him a brute, or a savage, or some one of those things a man is sure to be, when a woman discovers hewill not be her slave. '

Nina entering at the moment cut short all rejoinder, and Kearney cameforward to meet her with his hand out. 

'Shake out your lower courses, and let me look at you, ' cried he, as hewalked round her admiringly. 'Upon my oath, it's more beautiful thanever you are! I can guess what a fate is reserved for those dandies fromDublin. '

'Do you like my dress, sir? Is it becoming?' asked she. 

'Becoming it is; but I'm not sure whether I like it. '

'And how is that, sir?'

'I don't see how, with all that floating gauze and swelling lace, a man isto get an arm round you at all--'

'I cannot perceive the necessity, sir, ' and the insolent toss of her head, more forcibly even than her words, resented such a possibility. 

CHAPTER LXX

ATLEE'S RETURN

When Atlee arrived at Bruton Street, the welcome that met him was almostcordial. Lord Danesbury--not very demonstrative at any time--received himwith warmth, and Lady Maude gave him her hand with a sort of significantcordiality that overwhelmed him with delight. The climax of his enjoymentwas, however, reached when Lord Danesbury said to him, 'We are glad to seeyou at home again. '

This speech sank deep into his heart, and he never wearied of repeating itover and over to himself. When he reached his room, where his luggage hadalready preceded him, and found his dressing articles laid out, and all thelittle cares and attentions which well-trained servants understand awaitinghim, he muttered, with a tremulous sort of ecstasy, 'This is a veryglorious way to come home!'

The rich furniture of the room, the many appliances of luxury and easearound him, the sense of rest and quiet, so delightful after a journey, allappealed to him as he threw himself into a deep-cushioned chair. He criedaloud, 'Home! home! Is this indeed home? What a different thing from thatmean life of privation and penury I have always been associating with thisword--from that perpetual struggle with debt--the miserable conflict thatwent on through every day, till not an action, not a thought, remaineduntinctured with money, and if a momentary pleasure crossed the path, thecost of it as certain to tarnish all the enjoyment! Such was the only homeI have ever known, or indeed imagined. '

It is said that the men who have emerged from very humble conditions inlife, and occupy places of eminence or promise, are less overjoyed at thischange of fortune than impressed with a kind of resentment towards thedestiny that once had subjected them to privation. Their feeling is not somuch joy at the present as discontent with the past. 

'Why was I not born to all this?' cried Atlee indignantly. 'What is therein me, or in my nature, that this should be a usurpation? Why was I notschooled at Eton, and trained at Oxford? Why was I not bred up amongst themen whose competitor I shall soon find myself? Why have I not theirways, their instincts, their watchwords, their pastimes, and even theirprejudices, as parts of my very nature? Why am I to learn these late inlife, as a man learns a new language, and never fully catches the sounds orthe niceties? Is there any competitorship I should flinch from, any rivalryI should fear, if I had but started fair in the race?'

This sense of having been hardly treated by Fortune at the outset, marredmuch of his present enjoyment, accompanied as it was by a misgiving that, do what he might, that early inferiority would cling to him, like some ragof a garment that he must wear over all his 'braverie, ' proclaiming as itdid to the world, 'This is from what I sprung originally. '

It was not by any exercise of vanity that Atlee knew he talked better, knewmore, was wittier and more ready-witted than the majority of men of his ageand standing. The consciousness that he could do scores of things _they_could not do was not enough, tarnished as it was by a misgiving that, bysome secret mystery of breeding, some freemasonry of fashion, he was notone of them, and that this awkward fact was suspended over him for life, toarrest his course in the hour of success, and balk him at the very momentof victory. 

'Till a man's adoption amongst them is ratified by a marriage, he is notsafe, ' muttered he. 'Till the fate and future of one of their own isembarked in the same boat with himself, they'll not grieve over hisshipwreck. '

Could he but call Lady Maude his wife! Was this possible? There wereclasses in which affections went for much, where there was such a thingas engaging these same affections, and actually pledging all hope ofhappiness in life on the faith of such engagements. These, it is true, were the sentiments that prevailed in humbler walks of life, amongstthose lowly-born people whose births and marriages were not chronicled ingilt-bound volumes. The Lady Maudes of the world, whatever imprudencesthey might permit themselves, certainly never 'fell in love. ' Conditionand place in the world were far too serious things to be made the sport ofsentiment. Love was a very proper thing in three-volume novels, and Mr. Mudie drove a roaring trade in it; but in the well-bred world, immersed inall its engagements, triple-deep in its projects and promises for pleasure, where was the time, where the opportunity, for this pleasant fooling?That luxurious selfishness in which people delight to plan a future life, and agree to think that they have in themselves what can confront narrowfortune and difficulty--these had no place in the lives of persons offashion! In that coquetry of admiration and flattery which in the languageof slang is called spooning, young persons occasionally got so faracquainted that they agreed to be married, pretty much as they agreedto waltz or to polka together; but it was always with the distinctunderstanding that they were doing what mammas would approve of, and familysolicitors of good conscience could ratify. No tyrannical sentimentality, no uncontrollable gush of sympathy, no irresistible convictions about allfuture happiness being dependent on one issue, overbore these natures, andmade them insensible to title, and rank, and station, and settlements. 

In one word, Atlee, after due consideration, satisfied his mind that, though a man might gain the affections of the doctor's daughter or thesquire's niece, and so establish him as an element of her happiness thatfriends would overlook all differences of fortune, and try to make somesort of compromise with Fate, all these were unsuited to the sphere inwhich Lady Maude moved. It was, indeed, a realm where this coinage did notcirculate. To enable him to address her with any prospect of success, heshould be able to show--ay, and to show argumentatively--that she was, inlistening to him, about to do something eminently prudent and worldly-wise. She must, in short, be in a position to show her friends and 'society' thatshe had not committed herself to anything wilful or foolish--had not beenmisled by a sentiment or betrayed by a sympathy; and that the well-bredquestioner who inquired, 'Why did she marry Atlee?' should be met by ananswer satisfactory and convincing. 

In the various ways he canvassed the question and revolved it with himself, there was one consideration which, if I were at all concerned for hischaracter for gallantry, I should be reluctant to reveal; but as I feellittle interest on this score, I am free to own was this. He rememberedthat as Lady Maude was no longer in her first youth, there was reason tosuppose she might listen to addresses now which, some years ago, would havemet scant favour in her eyes. 

In the matrimonial Lloyd's, if there were such a body, she would not havefigured A No. 1; and the risks of entering the conjugal state have probablycalled for an extra premium. Atlee attached great importance to this fact;but it was not the less a matter which demanded the greatest delicacy oftreatment. He must know it, and he must not know it. He must see that shehad been the belle of many seasons, and he must pretend to regard her asfresh to the ways of life, and new to society. He trusted a good deal tohis tact to do this, for while insinuating to her the possible future ofsuch a man as himself--the high place, and the great rewards which, in alllikelihood, awaited him--there would come an opportune moment to suggest, that to any one less gifted, less conversant with knowledge of life thanherself, such reasonings could not be addressed. 

'It could never be, ' cried he aloud; 'to some miss fresh from theschoolroom and the governess, I could dare to talk a language onlyunderstood by those who have been conversant with high questions, and movedin the society of thoughtful talkers. '

There is no quality so dangerous to eulogise as experience, and Atleethought long over this. One determination or another must speedily be cometo. If there was no likelihood of success with Lady Maude, he must notlose his chances with the Greek girl. The sum, whatever it might be, whichher father should obtain for his secret papers, would constitute a veryrespectable portion. 'I have a stronger reason to fight for liberal terms, 'thought he, 'than the Prince Kostalergi imagines; and, fortunately, thatfine parental trait, that noble desire to make a provision for his child, stands out so clearly in my brief, I should be a sorry advocate if I couldnot employ it. '

In the few words that passed between Lord Danesbury and himself onarriving, he learned that there was but little chance of winning hiselection for the borough. Indeed, he bore the disappointment jauntily andgood-humouredly. That great philosophy of not attaching too much importanceto any one thing in life, sustained him in every venture. 'Bet on thefield--never back the favourite, ' was his formula for inculcating thewisdom of trusting to the general game of life, rather than to anyparticular emergency. 'Back the field, ' he would say, 'and you must beunlucky, or you'll come right in the long run. '

They dined that day alone, that is, they were but three at table; and Atleeenjoyed the unspeakable pleasure of hearing them talk with the freedomand unconstraint people only indulge in when 'at home. ' Lord Danesburydiscussed confidential questions of political importance: told how hiscolleagues agreed in this, or differed on that; adverted to the nice pointsof temperament which made one man hopeful and that other despondent ordistrustful; he exposed the difficulties they had to meet in the Commons, and where the Upper House was intractable; and even went so far in hisconfidences as to admit where the criticisms of the Press were felt to bedamaging to the administration. 

'The real danger of ridicule, ' said he, 'is not the pungency of the satire, it is the facility with which it is remembered and circulated. The man whoreads the strong leader in the _Times_ may have some general impressionof being convinced, but he cannot repeat its arguments or quote itsexpressions. The pasquinade or the squib gets a hold on the mind, and inits very drollery will ensure its being retained there. '

Atlee was not a little gratified to hear that this opinion was deliveredapropos to a short paper of his own, whose witty sarcasms on the Cabinetwere exciting great amusement in town, and much curiosity as to the writer. 

'He has not seen "The Whitebait Dinner" yet, ' said Lady Maude; 'thecleverest _jeu d'esprit_ of the day. '

'Ay, or of any day, ' broke in Lord Danesbury. 'Even the _Anti-Jacobin_has nothing better. The notion is this. The Devil happens to be taking aholiday, and he is in town just at the time of the Ministerial dinner, and hearing that he is at Claridge's, the Cabinet, ashamed at the littleattention bestowed on a crowned head, ask him down to Greenwich. Heaccepts, and to kill an hour--

 "He strolled down, of course, To the Parliament House, And heard how England stood, As she has since the Flood, Without ally or friend to assist her. But, while every persuasion Was full of invasion From Russian or Prussian, Yet the only discussion Was, how should a Gentleman marry his sister. "'

'Can you remember any more of it, my lord?' asked Atlee, on whose table atthat moment were lying the proof-sheets of the production. 

'Maude has it all somewhere. You must find it for him, and let him guessthe writer--if he can. '

'What do the clubs say?' asked Atlee. 

'I think they are divided between Orlop and Bouverie. I'm told that theGarrick people say it's Sankey, a young fellow in F. O. '

'You should see Aunt Jerningham about it, Mr. Atlee--her eagerness isdriving her half mad. '

'Take him out to "Lebanon" on Sunday, ' said my lord; and Lady Maude agreedwith a charming grace and courtesy, adding as she left the room, 'Soremember you are engaged for Sunday. '

Atlee bowed as he held the door open for her to pass out, and threw intohis glance what he desired might mean homage and eternal devotion. 

'Now then for a little quiet confab, ' said my lord. 'Let me hear what youmean by your telegram. All I could make out was that you found our man. '

'Yes, I found him, and passed several hours in his company. '

'Was the fellow very much out at elbows, as usual?'

'No, my lord--thriving, and likely to thrive. He has just been named envoyto the Ottoman Court. '

'Bah!' was all the reply his incredulity could permit. 

'True, I assure you. Such is the estimation he is held in at Athens, the Greeks declare he has not his equal. You are aware that his name isSpiridion Kostalergi, and he claims to be Prince of Delos. '

'With all my heart. Our Hellenic friends never quarrel over their nobility. There are titles and to spare for every one. Will he give us our papers?'

'Yes; but not without high terms. He declares, in fact, my lord, that youcan no more return to the Bosporus without _him_ than he can go therewithout _you_. '

'Is the fellow insolent enough to take this ground?'

'That is he. In fact, he presumes to talk as your lordship's colleague, andhints at the several points in which you may act in concert. '

'It is very Greek all this. '

'His terms are ten thousand pounds in cash, and--'

'There, there, that will do. Why not fifty--why not a hundred thousand?'

'He affects a desire to be moderate, my lord. '

'I hope you withdrew at once after such a proposal? I trust you did notprolong the interview a moment longer?'

'I arose, indeed, and declared that the mere mention of such terms was likea refusal to treat at all. '

'And you retired?'

'I gained the door, when he detained me. He has, I must admit, a marvellousplausibility, for though at first he seemed to rely on the all-importanceof these documents to your lordship--how far they would compromise youin the past and impede you for the future, how they would impair yourinfluence, and excite the animosity of many who were freely canvassed anddiscussed in them--yet he abandoned all that at the end of our interview, and restricted himself to the plea that the sum, if a large one, could notbe a serious difficulty to a great English noble, and would be thecrowning fortune of a poor Greek gentleman, who merely desired to secure amarriage-portion for his only daughter. '

'And you believed this?'

'I so far believed him that I have his pledge in writing that, when he hasyour lordship's assurance that you will comply with his terms--and he onlyasks that much--he will deposit the papers in the hands of the Minister atAthens, and constitute your lordship the trustee of the amount in favour ofhis daughter, the sum only to be paid on her marriage. '

'How can it possibly concern me that he has a daughter, or why should Iaccept such a trust?'

'The proposition had no other meaning than to guarantee the good faith onwhich his demand is made. '

'I don't believe in the daughter. '

'That is, that there is one?'

'No. I am persuaded that she has no existence. It is some question of amistress or a dependant; and if so, the sentimentality, which would seem tohave appealed so forcibly to you, fails at once. '

'That is quite true, my lord; and I cannot pretend to deny the weakness youaccuse me of. There may be no daughter in the question. '

'Ah! You begin to perceive now that you surrendered your convictions tooeasily, Atlee. You failed in that element of "restless distrust" thatTalleyrand used to call the temper of the diplomatist. '

'It is not the first time I have had to feel I am your lordship'sinferior. '

'_My_ education was not made in a day, Atlee. It need be no discouragementto you that you are not as long-sighted as I am. No, no; rely upon it, there is no daughter in the case. '

'With that conviction, my lord, what is easier than to make your adhesionto his terms conditional on his truth? You agree, if his statement be inall respects verified. '

'Which implies that it is of the least consequence to me whether the fellowhas a daughter or not?'

'It is so only as the guarantee of the man's veracity. '

'And shall I give ten thousand pounds to test _that?_'

'No, my lord; but to repossess yourself of what, in very doubtful hands, might prove a great scandal and a great disaster. '

'Ten thousand pounds! ten thousand pounds!'

'Why not eight--perhaps five? I have not your lordship's great knowledge toguide me, and I cannot tell when these men really mean to maintain theirground. From my own very meagre experiences, I should say he was not a verytractable individual. He sees some promise of better fortune before him, and like a genuine gambler--as I hear he is--he determines to back hisluck. '

'Ten thousand pounds!' muttered the other, below his breath. 

'As regards the money, my lord, I take it that these same papers weredocuments which more or less concerned the public service--they were in nosense personal, although meant to be private; and, although in my ignoranceI may be mistaken, it seems to me that the fund devoted to secret servicescould not be more fittingly appropriated than in acquiring documents whosepublicity could prove a national injury. '

'Totally wrong--utterly wrong. The money could never be paid on such apretence--the "Office" would not sanction--no Minister would dare to adviseit. '

'Then I come back to my original suggestion. I should give a conditionalacceptance, and treat for a reduction of the amount. '

'You would say five?'

'I opine, my lord, eight would have more chance of success. '

'You are a warm advocate for your client, ' said his lordship, laughing; andthough the shot was merely a random one, it went so true to the mark thatAtlee flushed up and became crimson all over. 'Don't mistake me, Atlee, 'said his lordship, in a kindly tone. 'I know thoroughly how _my_ interests, and only mine, have any claim on your attention. This Greek fellow must beless than nothing to you. Tell me now frankly, do you believe one word hehas told you? Is he really named as Minister to Turkey?'

'That much I can answer for--he is. '

'What of the daughter--is there a daughter?'

'I suspect there may be. However, the matter admits of an easy proof. Hehas given me names and addresses in Ireland of relatives with whom sheis living. Now, I am thoroughly conversant with Ireland, and, by theindications in my power, I can pledge myself to learn all, not only aboutthe existence of this person, but of such family circumstances as mightserve to guide you in your resolve. Time is what is most to be thought ofhere. Kostalergi requires a prompt answer--first of all, your assurancethat you will support his claim to be received by the Sultan. Well, mylord, if you refuse, Mouravieff will do it. You know better than me howimpolitic it might be to throw those Turks more into Russian influence--'

'Never mind _that_, Atlee. Don't distress yourself about the politicalaspect of the question. '

'I promised a telegraphic line to say, would you or would you not sustainhis nomination. It was to be Yes or No--not more. '

'Say Yes. I'll not split hairs about what Greek best represents his nation. Say Yes. '

'I am sure, my lord, you do wisely. He is evidently a man of ability, and, I suspect, not morally much worse than his countrymen in general. '

'Say Yes; and then'--he mused for some minutes before he continued--'andthen run over to Ireland--learn something, if you can, of this girl, withwhom she is staying, in what position, what guarantees, if any, could behad for the due employment and destination of a sum of money, in the eventof our agreeing to pay it. Mind, it is simply as a gauge of the fellow'sveracity that this story has any value for us. Daughter or no daughter, isnot of any moment to me; but I want to test the problem--can he tell oneword of truth about anything? You are shrewd enough to see the bearing ofthis narrative on all he has told you--where it sustains, where it accuseshim. '

'Shall I set out at once, my lord?'

'No. Next week will do. We'll leave him to ruminate over your telegram. _That_ will show him we have entertained his project; and he is toopractised a hand not to know the value of an opened negotiation. Cradockand Mellish, and one or two more, wish to talk with you about Turkey. Graydon, too, has some questions to ask you about Suez. They dine here onMonday. Tuesday we are to have the Hargraves and Lord Masham, and a coupleof Under-Secretaries of State; and Lady Maude will tell us about Wednesday, for all these people, Atlee, are coming to meet _you_. The newspapers haveso persistently been keeping you before the world, every one wants to seeyou. '

Atlee might have told his lordship--but he did not--by what agency itchanced that his journeys and his jests were so thoroughly known to thepress of every capital in Europe. 

CHAPTER LXXI

THE DRIVE

Sunday came, and with it the visit to South Kensington, where AuntJerningham lived; and Atlee found himself seated beside Lady Maude in afine roomy barouche, whirling along at a pace that our great moralisthimself admits to be amongst the very pleasantest excitements humanity canexperience. 

'I hope you will add your persuasions to mine, Mr. Atlee, and induce myuncle to take these horses with him to Turkey. You know Constantinople, andcan say that real carriage-horses cannot be had there. '

'Horses of this size, shape, and action the Sultan himself has not theequals of. '

'No one is more aware than my lord, ' continued she, 'that the measure of anambassador's influence is, in a great degree, the style and splendour inwhich he represents his country, and that his household, his equipage, hisretinue, and his dinners, should mark distinctly the station he assumes tooccupy. Some caprice of Mr. Walpole's about Arab horses--Arabs of bone andblood he used to talk of--has taken hold of my uncle's mind, and I halffear that he may not take the English horses with him. '

'By the way, ' said Atlee, half listlessly, 'where _is_ Walpole? What hasbecome of him?'

'He is in Ireland at this moment. '

'In Ireland! Good heavens! has he not had enough of Ireland?'

'Apparently not. He went over there on Tuesday last. '

'And what can he possibly have to do in Ireland?'

'I should say that _you_ are more likely to furnish the answer to thatquestion than I. If I'm not much mistaken, his letters are forwarded to thesame country-house where you first made each other's acquaintance. '

'What, Kilgobbin Castle?'

'Yes, it is something Castle, and I think the name you mentioned. '

'And this only puzzles me the more, ' added Atlee, pondering. 'His firstvisit there, at the time I met him, was a mere accident of travel--atourist's curiosity to see an old castle supposed to have some historicassociations. '

'Were there not some other attractions in the spot?' interrupted she, smiling. 

'Yes, there was a genial old Irish squire, who did the honours veryhandsomely, if a little rudely, and there were two daughters, or a daughterand a niece, I'm not very clear which, who sang Irish melodies and talkedrebellion to match very amusingly. '

'Were they pretty?'

'Well, perhaps courtesy would say "pretty, " but a keener criticism woulddwell on certain awkwardnesses of manner--Walpole called them Irishries. '

'Indeed!'

'Yes, he confessed to have been amused with the eccentric habits and oddways, but he was not sparing of his strictures afterwards. '

'So that there were no "tendernesses?"'

'Oh, I'll not go that far. I rather suspect there were "tendernesses, "but only such as a fine gentleman permits himself amongst semi-savagepeoples--something that seems to say, "Be as fond of me as you like, and itis a great privilege you enjoy; and I, on my side, will accord you such ofmy affections as I set no particular store by. " Just as one throws smallcoin to a beggar. '

'Oh, Mr. Atlee!'

'I am ashamed to own that I have seen something of this kind myself. '

'It is not like my cousin Cecil to behave in that fashion. '

'I might say, Lady Maude, that your home experiences of people would provea very fallacious guide as to what they might or might not do in a societyof whose ways you know nothing. '

'A man of honour would always be a man of honour. '

'There are men, and men of honour, as there are persons of excellentprinciples with delicate moral health, and they--I say it with regret--mustbe satisfied to be as respectably conducted as they are able. '

'I don't think you like Cecil, ' said she, half-puzzled by his subtlety, buthitting what she thought to be a 'blot. '

'It is difficult for me to tell his cousin what I should like to say inanswer to this remark. '

'Oh, have no embarrassment on that score. There are very few people lesstrammelled by the ties of relationship than we are. Speak out, and if youwant to say anything particularly severe, have no fears of wounding mysusceptibilities. '

'And do you know, Lady Maude, ' said he, in a voice of almost confidentialmeaning, 'this was the very thing I was dreading? I had at one time a gooddeal of Walpole's intimacy--I'll not call it friendship, for somehow therewere certain differences of temperament that separated us continually. Wecould commonly agree upon the same things; we could never be one-mindedabout the same people. In _my_ experiences, the world is by no means thecold-hearted and selfish thing _he_ deems it; and yet I suppose, LadyMaude, if there were to be a verdict given upon us both, nine out of tenwould have fixed on _me_ as the scoffer. Is not this so?'

The artfulness with which he had contrived to make himself and hischaracter a question of discussion achieved only a half-success, for sheonly gave one of her most meaningless smiles as she said, 'I do not know; Iam not quite sure. '

'And yet I am more concerned to learn what _you_ would think on this scorethan for the opinion of the whole world. '

Like a man who has taken a leap and found a deep 'drop' on the other side, he came to a dead halt as he saw the cold and impassive look her featureshad assumed. He would have given worlds to recall his speech and stand ashe did before it was uttered; for though she did not say one word, therewas that in her calm and composed expression which reproved all thatsavoured of passionate appeal. A now-or-never sort of courage nerved him, and he went on: 'I know all the presumption of a man like myself daring toaddress such words to you, Lady Maude; but do you remember that though alleyes but one saw only fog-bank in the horizon, Columbus maintained therewas land in the distance; and so say I, "He who would lay his fortunesat your feet now sees high honours and great rewards awaiting him in thefuture. It is with you to say whether these honours become the crowningglories of a life, or all pursuit of them be valueless!" May I--dare Ihope?'

'This is Lebanon, ' said she; 'at least I think so'; and she held her glassto her eye. 'Strange caprice, wasn't it, to call her house Lebanon becauseof those wretched cedars? Aunt Jerningham is so odd!'

'There is a crowd of carriages here, ' said Atlee, endeavouring to speakwith unconcern. 

'It is her day; she likes to receive on Sundays, as she says she escapesthe bishops. By the way, did you tell me you were an old friend of hers, ordid I dream it?'

'I'm afraid it was the vision revealed it?'

'Because, if so, I must not take you in. She has a rule against allpresentations on Sundays--they are only her intimates she receives on thatday. We shall have to return as we came. '

'Not for worlds. Pray let me not prove an embarrassment. You can make yourvisit, and I will go back on foot. Indeed, I should like a walk. '

'On no account! Take the carriage, and send it back for me. I shall remainhere till afternoon tea. '

'Thanks, but I hold to my walk. '

'It is a charming day, and I'm sure a walk will be delightful. '

'Am I to suppose, Lady Maude, ' said he, in a low voice, as he assisted herto alight, 'that you will deign me a more formal answer at another time tothe words I ventured to address you? May I live in the hope that I shallyet regard this day as the most fortunate of my life?'

'It is wonderful weather for November--an English November, too. Pray letme assure you that you need not make yourself uneasy about what you werespeaking of. I shall not mention it to any one, least of all to "my lord";and as for myself, it shall be as completely forgotten as though it hadnever been uttered. '

And she held out her hand with a sort of cordial frankness that actuallysaid, 'There, you are forgiven! Is there any record of generosity likethis?'

Atlee bowed low and resignedly over that gloved hand, which he felt he wastouching for the last time, and turned away with a rush of thoughts throughhis brain, in which certainly the pleasantest were not the predominatingones. 

He did not dine that day at Bruton Street, and only returned about teno'clock, when he knew he should find Lord Danesbury in his study. 

'I have determined, my lord, ' said he, with somewhat of decision in histone that savoured of a challenge, 'to go over to Ireland by the morningmail. '

Too much engrossed by his own thoughts to notice the other's manner, LordDanesbury merely turned from the papers before him to say, 'Ah, indeed!it would be very well done. We were talking about that, were we not, yesterday? What was it?'

'The Greek--Kostalergi's daughter, my lord?'

'To be sure. You are incredulous about her, ain't you?'

'On the contrary, my lord, I opine that the fellow has told us the truth. Ibelieve he has a daughter, and destines this money to be her dowry. '

'With all my heart; I do not see how it should concern me. If I am to paythe money, it matters very little to me whether he invests it in a Greekhusband or the Double Zero--speculations, I take it, pretty much alike. Have you sent a telegram?'

'I have, my lord. I have engaged your lordship's word that you are willingto treat. '

'Just so; it is exactly what I am! Willing to treat, willing to hearargument, and reply with my own, why I should give more for anything thanit is worth. '

'We need not discuss further what we can only regard from one point ofview, and that our own. '

Lord Danesbury started. The altered tone and manner struck him now for thefirst time, and he threw his spectacles on the table and stared at thespeaker with astonishment. 

'There is another point, my lord, ' continued Atlee, with unbroken calm, 'that I should like to ask your lordship's judgment upon, as I shall ina few hours be in Ireland, where the question will present itself. Therewas some time ago in Ireland a case brought under your lordship's noticeof a very gallant resistance made by a family against an armed party whoattacked a house, and your lordship was graciously pleased to say that somerecognition should be offered to one of the sons--something to show how theGovernment regarded and approved his spirited conduct. '

'I know, I know; but I am no longer the Viceroy. '

'I am aware of that, my lord, nor is your successor appointed; but anysuggestion or wish of your lordship's would be accepted by the LordsJustices with great deference, all the more in payment of a debt. If, then, your lordship would recommend this young man for the first vacancy in theconstabulary, or some place in the Customs, it would satisfy a most naturalexpectation, and, at the same time, evidence your lordship's interest forthe country you so late ruled over. '

'There is nothing more pernicious than forestalling other people'spatronage, Atlee. Not but if this thing was to be done for yourself--'

'Pardon me, my lord, I do not desire anything for myself. '

'Well, be it so. Take this to the Chancellor or theCommander-in-Chief'--and he scribbled a few hasty lines as he talked--'andsay what you can in support of it. If they give you something good, I shallbe heartily glad of it, and I wish you years to enjoy it. '

Atlee only smiled at the warmth of interest for him which was linked withsuch a shortness of memory; but was too much wounded in his pride to reply. And now, as he saw that his lordship had replaced his glasses and resumedhis work, he walked noiselessly to the door and withdrew. 

CHAPTER LXXII

THE SAUNTER IN TOWN

As Atlee sauntered along towards Downing Street, whence he purposed todespatch his telegram to Greece, he thought a good deal of his lateinterview with Lord Danesbury. There was much in it that pleased him. Hehad so far succeeded in _re_ Kostalergi, that the case was not scouted outof court; the matter, at least, was to be entertained, and even that wassomething. The fascination of a scheme to be developed, an intrigue to beworked out, had for his peculiar nature a charm little short of ecstasy. The demand upon his resources for craft and skill, concealment andduplicity, was only second in his estimation to the delight he felt atmeasuring his intellect with some other, and seeing whether, in the game ofsubtlety, he had his master. 

Next to this, but not without a long interval, was the pleasure he felt atthe terms in which Lord Danesbury spoke of him. No orator accustomed tohold an assembly enthralled by his eloquence--no actor habituated to swaythe passions of a crowded theatre--is more susceptible to the promptings ofpersonal vanity than your 'practised talker. ' The man who devotes himselfto be a 'success' in conversation glories more in his triumphs, and sets agreater value on his gifts, than any other I know of. 

That men of mark and station desired to meet him--that men whose positionsecured to them the advantage of associating with the pleasantest peopleand the freshest minds--men who commanded, so to say, the best talking insociety--wished to confer with and to hear _him_, was an intense flattery, and he actually longed for the occasion of display. He had learned a gooddeal since he had left Ireland. He had less of that fluency which Irishmencultivate, seldom ventured on an epigram, never on an anecdote, wasguardedly circumspect as to statements of fact, and, on the whole, liked tounderstate his case, and affect distrust of his own opinion. Though therewas not one of these which were not more or less restrictions on him, he could be brilliant and witty when occasion served, and there was anincisive neatness in his repartee in which he had no equal. Some of thosehe was to meet were well known amongst the most agreeable people ofsociety, and he rejoiced that at least, if he were to be put upon histrial, he should be judged by his peers. 

With all these flattering prospects, was it not strange that his lordshipnever dropped a word, nor even a hint, as to his personal career? He hadtold him, indeed, that he could not hope for success at Cradford, andlaughingly said, 'You have left Odger miles behind you in your Radicalism. Up to this, we have had no Parliament in England sufficiently advancedfor your opinions. ' On the whole, however, if not followed up--which LordDanesbury strongly objected to its being--he said there was no great harmin a young man making his first advances in political life by somethingstartling. They are only fireworks, it is true; the great requisite is, that they be brilliant, and do not go out with a smoke and a bad smell!

Beyond this, he had told him nothing. Was he minded to take him out toTurkey, and as what? He had already explained to him that the old daysin which a clever fellow could be drafted at once into a secretaryshipof embassy were gone by; that though a parliamentary title was held tosupersede all others, whether in the case of a man or a landed estate, itwas all-essential to be in the House for _that_, and that a diplomatist, like a sweep, must begin when he is little. 

'As his private secretary, ' thought he, 'the position is at once fatal toall my hopes with regard to Lady Maude. ' There was not a woman living morecertain to measure a man's pretensions by his station. 'Hitherto I have notbeen "classed. " I might be anybody, or go anywhere. My wide capabilitiesseemed to say that if I descended to do small things, it would be quite aseasy for me to do great ones; and though I copied despatches, they wouldhave been rather better if I had drafted them also. '

Lady Maude knew this. She knew the esteem in which her uncle held him. Sheknew how that uncle, shrewd man of the world as he was, valued the sort ofqualities he saw in him, and could, better than most men, decide how farsuch gifts were marketable, and what price they brought to their possessor. 

'And yet, ' cried he, 'they don't know one-half of me! What would they sayif they knew that it was I wrote the great paper on Turkish Finance in the_Mémorial Diplomatique_, and the review of it in the _Quarterly_; thatit was I who exposed the miserable compromise of Thiers with Gambetta inthe _Débuts_, and defended him in the _Daily News_; that the hystericalscream of the _Kreuz Zeitung_, and the severe article on Bismarck in the_Fortnightly_, were both mine; and that at this moment I am urging in the_Pike_ how the Fenian prisoners must be amnestied, and showing in a Londonreview that if they are liberated, Mr. Gladstone should be attainted forhigh treason? I should like well to let them know all this; and I'm notsure I would not risk all the consequences to do it. '

And then he as suddenly bethought him how little account men of letterswere held in by the Lady Maudes of this world; what a humble place theyassigned them socially; and how small they estimated their chances ofworldly success!

'It is the unrealism of literature as a career strikes them; and theycannot see how men are to assure themselves of the _quoi vivre_ byproviding what so few want, and even they could exist without. '

It was in a reverie of this fashion he walked the streets, as littlecognisant of the crowd around him as if he were sauntering along somerippling stream in a mountain gorge. 

CHAPTER LXXIII

A DARKENED KOOM

The 'comatose' state, to use the language of the doctors, into whichGorman O'Shea had fallen, had continued so long as to excite the greatestapprehensions of his friends; for although not amounting to completeinsensibility, it left him so apathetic and indifferent to everything andevery one, that the girls Kate and Nina, in pure despair, had given upreading or talking to him, and passed their hours of 'watching' in perfectsilence in the half-darkened room. 

The stern immobility of his pale features, the glassy and meaningless stareof his large blue eyes, the unvarying rhythm of a long-drawn respiration, were signs that at length became more painful to contemplate than evidencesof actual suffering; and as day by day went on, and interest grew more andmore eager about the trial, which was fixed for the coming assize, itwas pitiable to see him, whose fate was so deeply pledged on the issue, unconscious of all that went on around him, and not caring to know any ofthose details the very least of which might determine his future lot. 

The instructions drawn up for the defence were sadly in need of the sort ofinformation which the sick man alone could supply; and Nina and Kate hadboth been entreated to watch for the first favourable moment that shouldpresent itself, and ask certain questions, the answers to which would be ofthe last importance. 

Though Gill's affidavit gave many evidences of unscrupulous falsehood, there was no counter-evidence to set against it, and O'Shea's counselcomplained strongly of the meagre instructions which were briefed to him inthe case, and his utter inability to construct a defence upon them. 

'He said he would tell me something this evening, Kate, ' said Nina; 'so, ifyou will let me, I will go in your place and remind him of his promise. '

This hopeful sign of returning intelligence was so gratifying to Kate thatshe readily consented to the proposition of her cousin taking her 'watch, 'and, if possible, learning something of his wishes. 

'He said it, ' continued Nina, 'like one talking to himself, and it was noteasy to follow him. The words, as well as I could make out, were, "I willsay it to-day--this evening, if I can. When it is said"--here he mutteredsomething, but I cannot say whether the words were, "My mind will be atrest, " or "I shall be at rest for evermore. "'

Kate did not utter a word, but her eyes swam, and two large tears stoleslowly down her face. 

'His own conviction is that he is dying, ' said Nina; but Kate never spoke. 

'The doctors persist, ' continued Nina, 'in declaring that this depressionis only a well-known symptom of the attack, and that all affections of thebrain are marked by a certain tone of despondency. They even say more, andthat the cases where this symptom predominates are more frequently followedby recovery. Are you listening to me, child?'

'No; I was following some thoughts of my own. '

'I was merely telling you why I think he is getting better. '

Kate leaned her head on her cousin's shoulder, and she did not speak. Theheaving motion of her shoulders and her chest betrayed the agitation shecould not subdue. 

'I wish his aunt were here; I see how her absence frets him. Is she too illfor the journey?' asked Nina. 

'She says not, and she seems in some way to be coerced by others; but atelegram this morning announces she would try and reach Kilgobbin thisevening. '

'What could coercion mean? Surely this is mere fancy?'

'I am not so certain of that. The convent has great hopes of inheriting herfortune. She is rich, and she is a devout Catholic; and we have heard ofcases where zeal for the Church has pushed discretion very far. '

'What a worldly creature it is!' cried Nina; 'and who would have suspectedit?'

'I do not see the worldliness of my believing that people will do much toserve the cause they follow. When chemists tell us that there is nofinding such a thing as a glass of pure water, where are we to go for puremotives?'

'To one's heart, of course, ' said Nina; but the curl of her perfectly-cutlip as she said it, scarcely vouched for the sincerity. 

On that same evening, just as the last flickerings of twilight were dyingaway, Nina stole into the sick-room, and took her place noiselessly besidethe bed. 

Slowly moving his arm without turning his head, or by any gesture whateveracknowledging her presence, he took her hand and pressed it to his burninglips, and then laid it upon his cheek. She made no effort to withdraw herhand, and sat perfectly still and motionless. 

'Are we alone?' whispered he, in a voice hardly audible. 

'Yes, quite alone. '

'If I should say what--displease you, ' faltered he, his agitation makingspeech even more difficult; 'how shall I tell?' And once more he pressedher hand to his lips. 

'No, no; have no fears of displeasing me. Say what you would like to tellme. '

'It is this, then, ' said he, with an effort. 'I am dying with my secret inmy heart. I am dying, to carry away with me the love I am not to tell--mylove for you, Kate. '

'I am _not_ Kate, ' was almost on her lips; but her struggle to keep silentwas aided by that desire so strong in her nature--to follow out a situationof difficulty to the end. She did not love him, nor did she desire hislove; but a strange sense of injury at hearing his profession of love foranother shot a pang of intense suffering through her heart, and she layback in her chair with a cold feeling of sickness like fainting. Theoverpowering passion of her nature was jealousy; and to share even theadmiration of a salon, the 'passing homage, ' as such deference is called, with another, was a something no effort of her generosity could compass. 

Though she did not speak, she suffered her hand to remain unresistinglywithin his own. After a short pause he went on: 'I thought yesterday that Iwas dying; and in my rambling intellect I thought I took leave of you; anddo you know my last words--my last words, Kate?'

'No; what were they?'

'My last words were these: "Beware of the Greek; have no friendship withthe Greek. "'

'And why that warning?' said she, in a low, faint voice. 

'She is not of us, Kate; none of her ways or thoughts are ours, nor wouldthey suit us. She is subtle, and clever, and sly; and these only misleadthose who lead simple lives. '

'May it not be that you wrong her?'

'I have tried to learn her nature. '

'Not to love it?'

'I believe I was beginning to love her--just when you were cold to me. Youremember when?'

'I do; and it was this coldness was the cause? Was it the only cause?'

'No, no. She has wiles and ways which, with her beauty, make her nighirresistible. '

'And now you are cured of this passion? There is no trace of it in yourbreast?'

'Not a vestige. But why speak of her?'

'Perhaps I am jealous. '

Once more he pressed his lips to her hand, and kissed it rapturously. 

'No, Kate, ' cried he, 'none but you have the place in my heart. Whenever Ihave tried a treason, it has turned against me. Is there light enough inthe room to find a small portfolio of red-brown leather? It is on thattable yonder. '

Had the darkness been not almost complete, Nina would scarcely haveventured to rise and cross the room, so fearful was she of beingrecognised. 

'It is locked, ' said she, as she laid it beside him on the bed; buttouching a secret spring, he opened it, and passed his fingers hurriedlythrough the papers within. 

'I believe it must be this, ' said he. 'I think I know the feel of thepaper. It is a telegram from my aunt; the doctor gave it to me last night. We read it over together four or five times. This is it, and these are thewords: "If Kate will be your wife, the estate of O'Shea's Barn is your ownfor ever. "'

'Is she to have no time to think over this offer?' asked she. 

'Would you like candles, miss?' asked a maid-servant, of whose presencethere neither of the others had been aware. 

'No, nor are you wanted, ' said Nina haughtily, as she arose; while it wasnot without some difficulty she withdrew her hand from the sick man'sgrasp. 

'I know, ' said he falteringly, 'you would not leave me if you had not lefthope to keep me company in your absence. Is not that so, Kate?'

'Bye-bye, ' said she softly, and stole away. 

CHAPTER LXXIV

AN ANGRY COLLOQUY

It was with passionate eagerness Nina set off in search of Kate. Why sheshould have felt herself wronged, outraged, insulted even, is not so easyto say, nor shall I attempt any analysis of the complex web of sentimentswhich, so to say, spread itself over her faculties. The man who had sowounded her self-love had been at her feet, he had followed her in herwalks, hung over the piano as she sang--shown by a thousand signs that sortof devotion by which men intimate that their lives have but one solace, oneecstasy, one joy. By what treachery had he been moved to all this, if hereally loved another? That he was simply amusing himself with the sortof flirtation she herself could take up as a mere pastime was not to bebelieved. That the worshipper should be insincere in his worship was toodreadful to think of. And yet it was to this very man she had once turnedto avenge herself on Walpole's treatment of her; she had even said, 'Couldyou not make a quarrel with him?' Now, no woman of foreign breeding putssuch a question without the perfect consciousness that, in accepting aman's championship, she has virtually admitted his devotion. Her own levityof character, the thoughtless indifference with which she would sport withany man's affections, so far from inducing her to palliate such caprices, made her more severe and unforgiving. 'How shall I punish him for this? Howshall I make him remember whom it is he has insulted?' repeated she overand over to herself as she went. 

The servants passed her on the stairs with trunks and luggage of variouskinds; but she was too much engrossed with her own thoughts to notice them. Suddenly the words, 'Mr. Walpole's room, ' caught her ear, and she asked, 'Has any one come?'

Yes, two gentlemen had just arrived. A third was to come that night, andMiss O'Shea might be expected at any moment. 

'Where was Miss Kate?' she inquired. 

'In her own room at the top of the house. '

Thither she hastened at once. 

'Be a dear good girl, ' cried Kate as Nina entered, 'and help me in my manyembarrassments. Here are a flood of visitors all coming unexpectedly. MajorLockwood and Mr. Walpole have come. Miss Betty will be here for dinner, andMr. Atlee, whom we all believed to be in Asia, may arrive to-night. I shallbe able to feed them; but how to lodge them with any pretension to comfortis more than I can see. '

'I am in little humour to aid any one. I have my own troubles--worse ones, perhaps, than playing hostess to disconsolate travellers. '

'And what are your troubles, dear Nina?'

'I have half a mind not to tell you. You ask me with that supercilious airthat seems to say, "How can a creature like you be of interest enough toany one or anything to have a difficulty?"'

'I force no confidences, ' said the other coldly. 

'For that reason you shall have them--at least this one. What will yousay when I tell you that young O'Shea has made me a declaration, a formaldeclaration of love?'

'I should say that you need not speak of it as an insult or an offence. '

'Indeed! and if so, you would say what was perfectly wrong. It was bothinsult and offence--yes, both. Do you know that the man mistook me for_you_, and called me _Kate_?'

'How could this be possible?'

'In a darkened room, with a sick man slowly rallying from a long attackof stupor; nothing of me to be seen but my hand, which he devoured withkisses--raptures, indeed, Kate, of which I had no conception till Iexperienced them by counterfeit!'

'Oh! Nina, this is not fair!'

'It is true, child. The man caught my hand and declared he would never quitit till I promised it should be his own. Nor was he content with this; but, anticipating his right to be lord and master, he bade you to beware of_me_! "Beware of that Greek girl!" were his words--words strengthened bywhat he said of my character and my temperament. I shall spare you, and Ishall spare myself, his acute comments on the nature he dreaded to see incompanionship with his wife. I have had good training in learning theseunbiassed judgments--my early life abounded in such experiences--but thisyoung gentleman's cautions were candour itself. '

'I am sincerely sorry for what has pained you. '

'I did not say it was this boy's foolish words had wounded me so acutely. Icould bear sterner critics than he is--his very blundering misconception ofme would always plead his pardon. How could he, or how could they with whomhe lived and talked, and smoked and swaggered, know of me, or such as me?What could there be in the monotonous vulgarity of their tiresome livesthat should teach them what we are, or what we wish to be? By whatpresumption did he dare to condemn all that he could not understand?'

'You are angry, Nina; and I will not say without some cause. '

'What ineffable generosity! You can really constrain yourself to believethat I have been insulted!'

'I should not say insulted. '

'You cannot be an honest judge in such a cause. Every outrage offered to_me_ was an act of homage to _yourself_! If you but knew how I burned totell him who it was whose hand he held in his, and to whose ears he hadpoured out his raptures! To tell him, too, how the Greek girl would haveresented his presumption, had he but dared to indulge it! One of thewomen-servants, it would seem, was a witness to this boy's declaration. I think it was Mary was in the room, I do not know for how long, but sheannounced her presence by asking some question about candles. In fact, Ishall have become a servants'-hall scandal by this time. '

'There need not be any fear of that, Nina: there are no bad tongues amongstour people. '

'I know all that. I know we live amidst human perfectabilities--all ofIrish manufacture, and warranted to be genuine. '

'I would hope that some of your impressions of Ireland are notunfavourable?'

'I scarcely know. I suppose you understand each other, and are tolerantabout capricious moods and ways, which, to strangers, might seem to have adeeper significance. I believe you are not as hasty, or as violent, oras rash as you seem, and I am sure you are not as impulsive in yourgenerosity, or as headlong in your affections. Not exactly that you mean tobe false, but you are hypocrites to yourselves. '

'A very flattering picture of us. '

'I do not mean to flatter you; and it is to this end I say, you areItalians without the subtlety of the Italian, and Greeks without theirgenius. --You need not curtsy so profoundly. --I could say worse than this, Kate, if I were minded to do so. '

'Pray do not be so minded, then. Pray remember that, even when you woundme, I cannot return the thrust. '

'I know what you mean, ' cried Nina rapidly. 'You are veritable Arabs inyour estimate of hospitality, and he who has eaten your salt is sacred. '

'You remind me of what I had nigh forgotten, Nina--of our coming guests. '

'Do you know why Walpole and his friend are coming?'

'They are already come, Nina--they are out walking with papa; but what hasbrought them here I cannot guess, and, since I have heard your descriptionof Ireland, I cannot imagine. '

'Nor can I, ' said she indolently, and moved away. 

CHAPTER LXXV

MATHEW KEARNEY'S REFLECTIONS

To have his house full of company, to see his table crowded with guests, was nearer perfect happiness than anything Kearney knew; and when he setout, the morning after the arrival of the strangers, to show Major Lockwoodwhere he would find a brace of woodcocks, the old man was in such spiritsas he had not known for years. 

'Why don't your friend Walpole come with us?' asked he of his companion, asthey trudged across the bog. 

'I believe I can guess, ' mumbled out the other; 'but I'm not quite sure Iought to tell. '

'I see, ' said Kearney, with a knowing leer; 'he's afraid I'll roast himabout that unlucky despatch he wrote. He thinks I'll give him no peaceabout that bit of stupidity; for you see, major, it _was_ stupid, andnothing less. Of all the things we despise in Ireland, take my word forit, there is nothing we think so little of as a weak Government. We canstand up strong and bold against hard usage, and we gain self-respect byresistance; but when you come down to conciliations and what you callhealing measures, we feel as if you were going to humbug us, and thereis not a devilment comes into our heads we would not do, just to see howyou'll bear it; and it's then your London newspapers cry out: "What's theuse of doing anything for Ireland? We pulled down the Church, and we robbedthe landlords, and we're now going to back Cardinal Cullen for them, andthere they are murthering away as bad as ever. "'

'Is it not true?' asked the major. 

'And whose fault if it _is_ true? Who has broke down the laws in Irelandbut yourselves? We Irish never said that many things _you_ called crimeswere bad in morals, and when it occurs to you now to doubt if they arecrimes, I'd like to ask you, why wouldn't _we_ do them? You won't give usour independence, and so we'll fight for it; and though, maybe, we can'tlick you, we'll make your life so uncomfortable to you, keeping us down, that you'll beg a compromise--a healing measure, you'll call it--just aswhen I won't give Tim Sullivan a lease, he takes a shot at me; and as Ireckon the holes in my hat, I think better of it, and take a pound or twooff his rent. '

'So that, in fact, you court the policy of conciliation?'

'Only because I'm weak, major--because I'm weak, and that I must livein the neighbourhood. If I could pass my days out of the range of Tim'scarbine, I wouldn't reduce him a shilling. '

'I can make nothing of Ireland or Irishmen either. '

'Why would you? God help us! we are poor enough and wretched enough; butwe're not come down to that yet that a major of dragoons can read us likebig print. '

'So far as I see you wish for a strong despotism. '

'In one way it would suit us well. Do you see, major, what a weakadministration and uncertain laws do? They set every man in Ireland aboutrighting himself by his own hand. If I know I shall be starved when I amturned out of my holding, I'm not at all so sure I'll be hanged if I shootmy landlord. Make me as certain of the one as the other, and I'll not shoothim. '

'I believe I understand you. '

'No, you don't, nor any Cockney among you. '

'I'm not a Cockney. '

'I don't care, you're the same: you're not one of us; nor if you spentfifty years among us, would you understand us. '

'Come over and see me in Berkshire, Kearney, and let me see if you can readour people much better. '

'From all I hear, there's not much to read. Your chawbacon isn't as cute afellow as Pat. '

'He's easier to live with. '

'Maybe so; but I wouldn't care for a life with such people about me. I likehuman nature, and human feelings--ay, human passions, if you must call themso. I want to know--I can make some people love me, though I well knowthere must be others will hate me. You're all for tranquillity all over inEngland--a quiet life you call it. I like to live without knowing what'scoming, and to feel all the time that I know enough of the game to be ableto play it as well as my neighbours. Do you follow me now, major?'

'I'm not quite certain I do. '

'No--but I'm quite certain you don't; and, indeed, I wonder at myselftalking to you about these things at all. '

'I'm much gratified that you do so. In fact, Kearney, you give me courageto speak a little about myself and my own affairs; and, if you will allowme, to ask your advice. '

This was an unusually long speech for the major, and he actually seemedfatigued when he concluded. He was, however, consoled for his exertions byseeing what pleasure his words had conferred on Kearney; and with whatracy self-satisfaction, that gentleman heard himself mentioned as a 'wiseopinion. '

'I believe I do know a little of life, major, ' said he sententiously. 'Asold Giles Dackson used to say, "Get Mathew Kearney to tell you what hethinks of it. " You knew Giles?'

'No. '

'Well, you've heard of him? No! not even that. There's another proof ofwhat I was saying--we're two people, the English and the Irish. If itwasn't so, you'd be no stranger to the sayings and doings of one of thecutest men that ever lived. '

'We have witty fellows too. '

'No, you haven't! Do you call your House of Commons' jokes wit? Arethe stories you tell at your hustings' speeches wit? Is there one overthere'--and he pointed in the direction of England--'that ever made a smartrepartee or a brilliant answer to any one about anything? You now and thentell an Irish story, and you forget the point; or you quote a French _mot_, and leave out the epigram. Don't be angry--it's truth I'm telling you. '

'I'm not angry, though I must say I don't think you are fair to us. '

The last bit of brilliancy you had in the House was Brinsley Sheridan, andthere wasn't much English about _him_. '

'I've never heard that the famous O'Connell used to convulse the House withhis drollery. '

'Why should he? Didn't he know where he was? Do you imagine that O'Connellwas going to do like poor Lord Killeen, who shipped a cargo of coalscuttlesto Africa?'

'Will you explain to me then how, if you are so much shrewder and wittierand cleverer than us, it does not make you richer, more prosperous, andmore contented?'

'I could do that too--but I'm losing the birds. There's a cock now. Welldone! I see you can shoot a bit. --Look here, major, there's a deal inrace--in the blood of a people. It's very hard to make a light-hearted, joyous people thrifty. It's your sullen fellow, that never cuts a joke, norwants any one to laugh at it, that's the man who saves. If you're a wit, you want an audience, and the best audience is round a dinner-table; andwe know what that costs. Now, Ireland has been very pleasant for the lasthundred and fifty years in that fashion, and you, and scores of otherlow-spirited, depressed fellows, come over here to pluck up and rouseyourselves, and you go home, and you wonder why the people who amused youwere not always as jolly as you saw them. I've known this country now nighsixty years, and I never knew a turn of prosperity that didn't make usstupid; and, upon my conscience, I believe, if we ever begin to grow rich, we'll not be a bit better than yourselves. '

'That would be very dreadful, ' said the other, in mock-horror. 

'So it would, whether you mean it or not. --There's a hare missed thistime!'

'I was thinking of something I wanted to ask you. The fact is, Kearney, Ihave a thing on my mind now. '

'Is it a duel? It's many a day since I was out, but I used to know everystep of the way as well as most men. '

'No, it's not a duel!'

'It's money, then! Bother it for money! What a deal of bad blood it leadsto. Tell me all about it, and I'll see if I can't deal with it. '

'No, it's not money; it has nothing to do with money. I'm not hard up. Iwas never less so. '

'Indeed!' cried Kearney, staring at him. 

'Why, what do you mean by that?'

'I was curious to see how a man looks, and I'd like to know how he feels, that didn't want money. I can no more understand it than if a man told mehe didn't want air. '

'If he had enough to breathe freely, could he need more?'

'That would depend on the size of his lungs, and I believe mine are prettybig. But come now, if there's nobody you want to shoot, and you have a goodbalance at the banker's, what can ail you, except it's a girl you want tomarry, and she won't have you?'

'Well, there is a lady in the case. '

'Ay, ay! she's a married woman, ' cried Kearney, closing one eye, andlooking intensely cunning. 'Then I may tell you at once, major, I'm no useto you whatever. If it was a young girl that liked you against the wishof her family, or that you were in love with though she was below you incondition, or that was promised to another man but wanted to get out of herbargain, I'm good for any of these, or scores more of the same kind; but ifit's mischief, and misery, and lifelong sorrow you have in your head, youmust look out for another adviser. '

'It's nothing of the kind, ' said the other bluntly. 'It's marriage I wasthinking of. I want to settle down and have a wife. '

'Then why couldn't you, if you think it would be any comfort to you?'

The last words were rather uttered than spoken, and sounded like a sadreflection uttered aloud. 

'I am not a rich man, ' said the major, with that strain it always costhim to speak of himself, 'but I have got enough to live on. A goodishold house, and a small estate, underlet as it is, bringing me about twothousand a year, and some expectations, as they call them, from an oldgrand-aunt. '

'You have enough, if you marry a prudent girl, ' muttered Kearney, who wasnever happier than when advocating moderation and discretion. 

'Enough, at least, not to look for money with a wife. '

'I'm with you there, heart and soul, ' cried Kearney. 'Of all the shabbyinventions of our civilisation, I don't know one as mean as that customof giving a marriage-portion with a girl. Is it to induce a man to takeher? Is it to pay for her board and lodging? Is it because marriage is apartnership, and she must bring her share into the "concern"? or is it toprovide for the day when they are to part company, and each go his ownroad? Take it how you like, it's bad and it's shabby. If you're rich enoughto give your daughter twenty or thirty thousand pounds, wait for somelittle family festival--her birthday, or her husband's birthday, or aChristmas gathering, or maybe a christening--and put the notes in herhand. Oh, major dear, ' cried he aloud, 'if you knew how much of life youlose with lawyers, and what a deal of bad blood comes into the world byparchments, you'd see the wisdom of trusting more to human kindness andgood feeling, and above all, to the honour of gentlemen--things thatnowadays we always hope to secure by Act of Parliament. '

'I go with a great deal of what you say. '

'Why not with all of it? What do we gain by trying to overreach each other?What advantage in a system where it's always the rogue that wins? If I wasa king to-morrow, I'd rather fine a fellow for quoting Blackstone thanfor blasphemy, and I'd distribute all the law libraries in the kingdom ascheap fuel for the poor. We pray for peace and quietness, and we educate aspecial class of people to keep us always wrangling. Where's the sense ofthat?'

While Kearney poured out these words in a flow of fervid conviction, theyhad arrived at a little open space in the wood, from which various alleysled off in different directions. Along one of these, two figures wereslowly moving side by side, whom Lockwood quickly recognised as Walpole andNina Kostalergi. Kearney did not see them, for his attention was suddenlycalled off by a shout from a distance, and his son Dick rode hastily up tothe spot. 

'I have been in search of you all through the plantation, ' cried he. 'Ihave brought back Holmes the lawyer from Tullamore, who wants to talk toyou about this affair of Gorman's. It's going to be a bad business, Ifear. '

'Isn't that more of what I was saying?' said the old man, turning to themajor. 'There's law for you!'

'They're making what they call a "National" event of it, ' continued Dick. 'The _Pike_ has opened a column of subscriptions to defray the cost ofproceedings, and they've engaged Battersby with a hundred-guinea retaineralready. '

It appeared from what tidings Dick brought back from the town, that theNationalists--to give them the much unmerited name by which they calledthemselves--were determined to show how they could dictate to a jury. 

'There's law for you!' cried the old man again. 

'You'll have to take to vigilance committees, like the Yankees, ' said themajor. 

'We've had them for years; but they only shoot their political opponents. '

'They say, too, ' broke in the young man, 'that Donogan is in the town, andthat it is he who has organised the whole prosecution. In fact, he intendsto make Battersby's speech for the plaintiff a great declaration of thewrongs of Ireland; and as Battersby hates the Chief Baron, who will trythe cause, he is determined to insult the Bench, even at the cost of acommitment. '

'What will he gain by that?' asked Lockwood. 

'Every one cannot have a father that was hanged in '98; but any one can goto gaol for blackguarding a Chief-Justice, ' said Kearney. 

For a moment or two the old man seemed ashamed at having been led to makethese confessions to 'the Saxon, ' and telling Lockwood where he wouldbe likely to find a brace of cocks, he took his son's arm and returnedhomeward. 

CHAPTER LXXVI

VERY CONFIDENTIAL CONVERSATION

When Lockwood returned, only in time to dress for dinner, Walpole, whoseroom adjoined his, threw open the door between them and entered. He hadjust accomplished a most careful 'tie, ' and came in with the air of onefairly self-satisfied and happy. 

'You look quite triumphant this evening, ' said the major, half sulkily. 

'So I am, old fellow; and so I have a right to be. It's all done andsettled. '

'Already?'

'Ay, already. I asked her to take a stroll with me in the garden; but wesauntered off into the plantation. A woman always understands the exactamount of meaning a man has in a request of this kind, and her instinctreveals to her at once whether he is eager to tell her some bit of fatalscandal of one of her own friends, or to make her a declaration. '

A sort of sulky grunt was Lockwood's acknowledgment of this piece ofabstract wisdom--a sort of knowledge he never listened to with muchpatience. 

'I am aware, ' said Walpole flippantly, 'the female nature was an omittedpart in your education, Lockwood, and you take small interest in those nicedistinctive traits which, to a man of the world, are exactly what the starsare to the mariner. '

'Finding out what a woman means by the stars does seem very poor fun. '

'Perhaps you prefer the moon for your observation, ' replied Walpole; andthe easy impertinence of his manner was almost too much for the other'spatience. 

'I don't care for your speculations--I want to hear what passed between youand the Greek girl. '

'The Greek girl will in a very few days be Mrs. Walpole, and I shall cravea little more deference for the mention of her. '

'I forgot her name, or I should not have called her with such freedom! Whatis it?'

'Kostalergi. Her father is Kostalergi, Prince of Delos. '

'All right; it will read well in the _Post_. '

'My dear friend, there is that amount of sarcasm in your conversation thisevening, that to a plain man like myself, never ready to reply, and easilysubdued by ridicule, is positively overwhelming. Has any disaster befallenyou that you are become so satirical and severe?'

'Never mind _me_--tell me about yourself, ' was the blunt reply. 

'I have not the slightest objection. When we had walked a little waytogether, and I felt that we were beyond the risk of interruption, I ledher to the subject of my sudden reappearance here, and implied that she, at least, could not have felt much surprise. "You remember, " said I, "Ipromised to return?"

'"There is something so conventional, " said she, "in these pledges, thatone comes to read them like the 'yours sincerely' at the foot of a letter. "

'"I ask for nothing better, " said I, taking her up on her own words, "thanto be 'yours sincerely. ' It is to ratify that pledge by making you 'minesincerely' that I am here. "

'"Indeed!" said she slowly, and looking down. 

'"I swear it!" said I, kissing her hand, which, however, had a glove on. '

'Why not her cheek?'

'That is not done, major mine, at such times. '

'Well, go on. '

'I can't recall the exact words, for I spoke rapidly; but I told her I wasnamed Minister at a foreign Court, that my future career was assured, andthat I was able to offer her a station, not, indeed, equal to her deserts, but that, occupied by her, would be only less than royal. '

'At Guatemala!' exclaimed the other derisively. 

'Have the kindness to keep your geography to yourself, ' said Walpole. 'Imerely said in South America, and she had too much delicacy to ask more. '

'But she said Yes? She consented?'

'Yes, sir, she said she would venture to commit her future to my charge. '

'Didn't she ask you what means you had? what was your income?'

'Not exactly in the categorical way you put it, but she alluded to thepossible style we should live in. '

'I'll swear she did. That girl asked you, in plain words, how many hundredsor thousands you had a year?'

'And I told her. I said, "It sounds humbly, dearest, to tell you we shallnot have fully two thousand a year; but the place we are going to is thecheapest in the universe, and we shall have a small establishment of notmore than forty black and about a dozen white servants, and at first onlykeep twenty horses, taking our carriages on job. "'

'What about pin-money?'

'There is not much extravagance in toilet, and so I said she must managewith a thousand a year. '

'And she didn't laugh in your face?'

'No, sir! nor was there any strain upon her good-breeding to induce her tolaugh in my face. '

'At all events, you discussed the matter in a fine practical spirit. Didyou go into groceries? I hope you did not forget groceries?'

'My dear Lockwood, let me warn you against being droll. You ask me for acorrect narrative, and when I give it, you will not restrain that subtlesarcasm the mastery of which makes you unassailable. '

'When is it to be? When is it to come off? Has she to write to His SereneHighness the Prince of What's-his-name?'

'No, the Prince of What's-his-name need not be consulted; Lord Kilgobbinwill stand in the position of father to her. '

Lockwood muttered something, in which 'Give her away!' were the only wordsaudible. 'I must say, ' added he aloud, 'the wooing did not take long. '

'You forget that there was an actual engagement between us when I left thisfor London. My circumstances at that time did not permit me to ask her atonce to be my wife; but our affections were pledged, and--even if moretender sentiments did not determine--my feeling, as a man of honour, required I should come back here to make her this offer. '

'All right; I suppose it will do--I hope it will do; and after all, I takeit, you are likely to understand each other better than others would. '

'Such is our impression and belief. '

'How will your own people--how will Danesbury like it?'

'For their sakes I trust they will like it very much; for mine, it is lessthan a matter of indifference to me. '

'She, however--she will expect to be properly received amongst them?'

'Yes, ' cried Walpole, speaking for the first time in a perfectly naturaltone, divested of all pomposity. 'Yes, she stickles for that, Lockwood. Itwas the one point she seemed to stand out for. Of course I told her shewould be received with open arms by my relatives--that my family would beoverjoyed to receive her as one of them. I only hinted that my lord's goutmight prevent him from being at the wedding. I'm not sure Uncle Danesburywould not come over. "And the charming Lady Maude, " asked she, "would shehonour me so far as to be a bridesmaid?"'

'She didn't say that?'

'She did. She actually pushed me to promise I should ask her. '

'Which you never would. '

'Of that I will not affirm I am quite positive; but I certainly intend topress my uncle for some sort of recognition of the marriage--a civil note;better still, if it could be managed, an invitation to his house in town. '

'You are a bold fellow to think of it. '

'Not so bold as you imagine. Have you not often remarked that when a man ofgood connections is about to exile himself by accepting a far-away post, whether it be out of pure compassion or a feeling that it need neverbe done again, and that they are about to see the last of him; but, somehow--whatever the reason--his friends are marvellously civil and politeto him, just as some benevolent but eccentric folk send a partridge to thecondemned felon for his last dinner. '

'They do that in France. '

'Here it would be a rumpsteak; but the sentiment is the same. At allevents, the thing is as I told you, and I do not despair of Danesbury. '

'For the letter, perhaps not; but he'll never ask you to Bruton Street, nor, if he did, could you accept. '

'You are thinking of Lady Maude. '

'I am. '

'There would be no difficulty in that quarter. When a Whig becomes Tory, ora Tory Whig, the gentlemen of the party he has deserted never take umbragein the same way as the vulgar dogs below the gangway; so it is in theworld. The people who must meet, must dine together, sit side by sideat flower-shows and garden-parties, always manage to do their hatredsdecorously, and only pay off their dislikes by instalments. If Lady Maudewere to receive my wife at all, it would be with a most winning politeness. All her malevolence would limit itself to making the supposed underbredwoman commit a _gaucherie_, to do or say something that ought not to havebeen done or said; and, as I know Nina can stand the test, I have no fearsfor the experiment. '

A knock at the door apprised them that the dinner was waiting, neitherhaving heard the bell which had summoned them a quarter of an hour before. 'And I wanted to hear all about your progress, ' cried Walpole, as theydescended the staircase together. 

'I have none to report, ' was the gruff reply. 

'Why, surely you have not passed the whole day in Kearney's company withoutsome hint of what you came here for?'

But at the same moment they were in the dining-room. 

'We are a man party to-day, I am sorry to say, ' cried old Kearney, asthey entered. 'My niece and my daughter are keeping Miss O'Shea companyupstairs. She is not well enough to come down to dinner, and they havescruples about leaving her in solitude. '

'At least we'll have a cigar after dinner, ' was Dick's ungallant reflectionas they moved away. 

CHAPTER LXXVII

TWO YOUNG LADIES ON MATRIMONY

'I hope they had a pleasanter dinner downstairs than we have had here, 'said Nina, as, after wishing Miss O'Shea a good-night, the young girlsslowly mounted the stairs. 

'Poor old godmother was too sad and too depressed to be cheerful company;but did she not talk well and sensibly on the condition of the country? wasit not well said, when she showed the danger of all that legislation which, assuming to establish right, only engenders disunion and class jealousy?'

'I never followed her; I was thinking of something else. '

'She was worth listening to, then. She knows the people well, and she seesall the mischief of tampering with natures so imbued with distrust. TheIrishman is a gambler, and English law-makers are always exciting him toplay. '

'It seems to me there is very little on the game. '

'There is everything--home, family, subsistence, life itself--all that aman can care for. '

'Never mind these tiresome themes; come into my room; or I'll go to yours, for I'm sure you've a better fire; besides, I can walk away if you offendme: I mean offend beyond endurance, for you are sure to say somethingcutting. '

'I hope you wrong me, Nina. '

'Perhaps I do. Indeed, I half suspect I do; but the fact is, it is not yourwords that reproach me, it is your whole life of usefulness is my reproach, and the least syllable you utter comes charged with all the responsibilityof one who has a duty and does it, to a mere good-for-nothing. There, isnot that humility enough?'

'More than enough, for it goes to flattery. '

'I'm not a bit sure all the time that I'm not the more lovable creature ofthe two. If you like, I'll put it to the vote at breakfast. '

'Oh, Nina!'

'Very shocking, that's the phrase for it, very shocking! Oh dear, what anice fire, and what a nice little snug room; how is it, will you tell me, that though my room is much larger and better furnished in every way, yourroom is always brighter and neater, and more like a little home? They fetchyou drier firewood, and they bring you flowers, wherever they get them. Iknow well what devices of roguery they practise. '

'Shall I give you tea?'

'Of course I'll have tea. I expect to be treated like a favoured guest inall things, and I mean to take this arm-chair, and the nice soft cushionfor my feet, for I warn you, Kate, I'm here for two hours. I've an immensedeal to tell you, and I'll not go till it's told. '

'I'll not turn you out. '

'I'll take care of that; I have not lived in Ireland for nothing. I havea proper sense of what is meant by possession, and I defy what your greatMinister calls a heartless eviction. Even your tea is nicer, it is morefragrant than any one else's. I begin to hate you out of sheer jealousy. '

'That is about the last feeling I ought to inspire. '

'More humility; but I'll drop rudeness and tell you my story, for I have astory to tell. Are you listening? Are you attentive? Well, my Mr. Walpole, as you called him once, is about to become so in real earnest. I could havemade a long narrative of it and held you in weary suspense, but I preferto dash at once into the thick of the fray, and tell you that he has thismorning made me a formal proposal, and I have accepted him. Be pleased tobear in mind that this is no case of a misconception or a mistake. No younggentleman has been petting and kissing my hand for another's; no tenderspeeches have been uttered to the ears they were not meant for. I have beenwooed this time for myself, and on my own part I have said Yes. '

'You told me you had accepted him already. I mean when he was here last. '

'Yes, after a fashion. Don't you know, child, that though lawyers maintainthat a promise to do a certain thing, to make a lease or some contract, hasin itself a binding significance, that in Cupid's Court this is not law?and the man knew perfectly that all passed between us hitherto had noserious meaning, and bore no more real relation to marriage than an outpostencounter to a battle. For all that has taken place up to this, we mightnever fight--I mean marry--after all. The sages say that a girl shouldnever believe a man means marriage till he talks money to her. Now, Kate, he talked money; and I believed him. '

'I wish you would tell me of these things seriously, and without banter. '

'So I do. Heaven knows I am in no jesting humour. It is in no outburst ofhigh spirits or gaiety a girl confesses she is going to marry a man who hasneither wealth nor station to offer, and whose fine connections are justfine enough to be ashamed of him. '

'Are you in love with him?'

'If you mean, do I imagine that this man's affection and this man'scompanionship are more to me than all the comforts and luxuries of lifewith another, I am not in love with him; but if you ask me, am I satisfiedto risk my future with so much as I know of his temper, his tastes, hisbreeding, his habits, and his abilities, I incline to say Yes. Marriedlife, Kate, is a sort of dietary, and one should remember that what he hasto eat of every day ought not to be too appetising. '

'I abhor your theory. '

'Of course you do, child; and you fancy, naturally enough, that you wouldlike ortolans every day for dinner; but my poor cold Greek temperament hasnone of the romantic warmth of your Celtic nature. I am very moderate in myhopes, very humble in all my ambitions. '

'It is not thus I read you. '

'Very probably. At all events, I have consented to be Mr. Walpole's wife, and we are to be Minister Plenipotentiary and Special Envoy somewhere. Itis not Bolivia, nor the Argentine Republic, but some other fabulous region, where the only fact is yellow fever. '

'And you really like him?'

'I hope so, for evidently it must be on love we shall have to live, onehalf of our income being devoted to saddle-horses and the other to mytoilet. '

'How absurd you are!'

'No, not I. It is Mr. Walpole himself, who, not trusting much to my skillat arithmetic, sketched out this schedule of expenditure; and then Ibethought me how simple this man must deem me. It was a flattery that wonme at once. Oh! Kate dearest, if you could understand the ecstasy of beingthought, not a fool, but one easily duped, easily deceived!'

'I don't know what you mean. '

'It is this, then, that to have a man's whole heart--whether it be worththe having is another and a different question--you must impress him withhis immense superiority in everything--that he is not merely physicallystronger than you, and bolder and more courageous, but that he is mentallymore vigorous and more able, judges better, decides quicker, resolves morefully than you; and that, struggle how you will, you pass your life ineternally looking up to this wonderful god, who vouchsafes now and then tocaress you, and even say tender things to you. '

'Is it, Nina, that you have made a study of these things, or is all thismere imagination?'

'Most innocent young lady! I no more dreamed of these things to applyto such men as your country furnishes--good, homely, commonplacecreatures--than I should have thought of asking you to adopt French cookeryto feed them. I spoke of such men as one meets in what I may call the realworld: as for the others, if they feel life to be a stage, they are alwaysgoing about in slipshod fashion, as if at rehearsal. Men like your brotherand young O'Shea, for instance--tossed here and there by accidents, madeone thing by a chance, and something else by a misfortune. Take my word forit, the events of life are very vulgar things; the passions and emotionsthey evoke, _these_ constitute the high stimulants of existence, they makethe _gross jeu_, which it is so exciting to play. '

'I follow you with some difficulty; but I am rude enough to own I scarcelyregret it. '

'I know, I know all about that sweet innocence that fancies to ignoreanything is to obliterate it; but it's a fool's paradise, after all, Kate. We are in the world, and we must accept it as it is made for us. '

'I'll not ask, does your theory make you better, but does it make youhappier?'

'If being duped were an element of bliss, I should say certainly nothappier, but I doubt the blissful ignorance of your great moralist. Iincline to believe that the better you play any game--life amongst therest--the higher the pleasure it yields. I can afford to marry, withoutbelieving my husband to be a paragon--could _you_ do as much?'

'I should like to know that I preferred him to any one else. '

'So should I, and I would only desire to add "to every one else that askedme. " Tell the truth, Kate dearest, we are here all alone, and can affordsincerity. How many of us girls marry the man we should like to marry, and if the game were reversed, and it were to be _we_ who should make thechoice--the slave pick out his master--how many, think you, would be weddedto their present mates?'

'So long as we can refuse him we do not like, I cannot think our case ahard one. '

'Neither should I if I could stand fast at three-and-twenty. The dreadof that change of heart and feeling that will come, must come, ten yearslater, drives one to compromise with happiness, and take a part of what youonce aspired to the whole. '

'You used to think very highly of Mr. Walpole; admired, and I suspect youliked him. '

'All true--my opinion is the same still. He will stand the great test thatone can go into the world with him and not be ashamed of him. I know, dearest, even without that shake of the head, the small value you attachto this, but it is a great element in that droll contract, by which oneperson agrees to pit his temper against another's, and which we are toldis made in heaven, with angels as sponsors. Mr. Walpole is sufficientlygood-looking to be prepossessing, he is well bred, very courteous, converses extremely well, knows his exact place in life, and takes itquietly but firmly. All these are of value to his wife, and it is not easyto over-rate them. '

'Is that enough?'

'Enough for what? If you mean for romantic love, for the infatuation thatdefies all change of sentiment, all growth of feeling, that revels in thethought, experience will not make us wiser, nor daily associations lessadmiring, it is not enough. I, however, am content to bid for a muchhumbler lot. I want a husband who, if he cannot give me a brilliantstation, will at least secure me a good position in life, a reasonableshare of vulgar comforts, some luxuries, and the ordinary routine of whatare called pleasures. If, in affording me these, he will vouchsafe to addgood temper, and not high spirits--which are detestable--but fair spirits, I think I can promise him, not that I shall make him happy, but that hewill make himself so, and it will afford me much gratification to see it. '

'Is this real, or--'

'Or what? Say what was on your lips. '

'Or are you utterly heartless?' cried Kate, with an effort that covered herface with blushes. 

'I don't think I am, ' said she oddly and calmly; 'but all I have seen oflife teaches me that every betrayal of a feeling or a sentiment is likewhat gamblers call showing your hand, and is sure to be taken advantage ofby the other players. It's an ugly illustration, dear Kate, but in the sameround game we call life there is so much cheating that if you cannot affordto be pillaged, you must be prudent. '

'I am glad to feel that I can believe you to be much better than you makeyourself. '

'Do so, and as long as you can. '

There was a pause of several moments after this, each apparently followingout her own thoughts. 

'By the way, ' cried Nina suddenly, 'did I tell you that Mary wished me joythis morning. She had overheard Mr. Gorman's declaration, and believed hehad asked me to be his wife. '

'How absurd!' said Kate, and there was anger as well as shame in her lookas she said it. 

'Of course it was absurd. She evidently never suspected to whom she wasspeaking, and then--' She stopped, for a quick glance at Kate's face warnedher of the peril she was grazing. 'I told the girl she was a fool, andforbade her to speak of the matter to any one. '

'It is a servants'-hall story already, ' said Kate quietly. 

'Do you care for that?'

'Not much; three days will see the end of it. '

'I declare, in your own homely way, I believe you are the wiser of the twoof us. '

'My common sense is of the very commonest, ' said Kate, laughing; 'there isnothing subtle nor even neat about it. '

'Let us see that! Give me a counsel or, rather, say if you agree with me. Ihave asked Mr. Walpole to show me how his family accept my entrance amongstthem; with what grace they receive me as a relative. One of his cousinscalled me the Greek girl, and in my own hearing. It is not, then, over-caution on my part to inquire how they mean to regard me. Tell me, however, Kate, how far you concur with me in this. I should like much tohear how your good sense regards the question. Should you have done as Ihave?'

'Answer me first one question. If you should learn that these great folkswould not welcome you amongst them, would you still consent to marry Mr. Walpole?'

'I'm not sure, I am not quite certain, but I almost believe I should. '

'I have, then, no counsel to give you, ' said Kate firmly. 'Two people whosee the same object differently cannot discuss its proportions. '

'I see my blunder, ' cried Nina impetuously. 'I put my question stupidly. Ishould have said, "If a girl has won a man's affections and given him herown--if she feels her heart has no other home than in his keeping--that shelives for him and by him--should she be deterred from joining her fortunesto his because he has some fine connections who would like to see him marrymore advantageously?"' It needed not the saucy curl of her lip as she spoketo declare how every word was uttered in sarcasm. 'Why will you not answerme?' cried she at length; and her eyes shot glances of fiery impatience asshe said it. 

'Our distinguished friend Mr. Atlee is to arrive to-morrow, Dick tells me, 'said Kate, with the calm tone of one who would not permit herself to beruffled. 

'Indeed! If your remark has any _apropos_ at all, it must mean that inmarrying such a man as he is, one might escape all the difficulties offamily coldness, and I protest, as I think of it, the matter has itsadvantages. '

A faint smile was all Kate's answer. 

'I cannot make you angry; I have done my best, and it has failed. I amutterly discomfited, and I'll go to bed. '

'Good-night, ' said Kate, as she held out her hand. 

'I wonder is it nice to have this angelic temperament---to be always rightin one's judgments, and never carried away by passion? I half suspectperfection does not mean perfect happiness. '

'You shall tell me when you are married, ' said Kate, with a laugh; and Ninadarted a flashing glance towards her, and swept out of the room. 

CHAPTER LXXVIII

A MISERABLE MORNING

It was not without considerable heart-sinking and misgiving that oldKearney heard it was Miss Betty O'Shea's desire to have some conversationwith him after breakfast. He was, indeed, reassured, to a certain extent, by his daughter telling him that the old lady was excessively weak, andthat her cough was almost incessant, and that she spoke with extremedifficulty. All the comfort that these assurances gave him was dashed by asettled conviction of Miss Betty's subtlety. 'She's like one of the wildfoxes they have in Crim Tartary; and when you think they are dead, they'reup and at you before you can look round. ' He affirmed no more than thetruth when he said that 'he'd rather walk barefoot to Kilbeggan than go upthat stair to see her. '

There was a strange conflict in his mind all this time between theseignoble fears and the efforts he was making to seem considerate and gentleby Kate's assurance that a cruel word, or even a harsh tone, would be sureto kill her. 'You'll have to be very careful, papa dearest, ' she said. 'Hernerves are completely shattered, and every respiration seems as if it wouldbe the last. '

Mistrust was, however, so strong in him, that he would have employed anysubterfuge to avoid the interview; but the Rev. Luke Delany, who hadarrived to give her 'the consolations, ' as he briefly phrased it, insistedon Kearney's attending to receive the old lady's forgiveness before shedied. 

'Upon my conscience, ' muttered Kearney, 'I was always under the belief itwas I was injured; but, as the priest says, "it's only on one's death-bedhe sees things clearly. "'

As Kearney groped his way through the darkened room, shocked at his owncreaking shoes, and painfully convinced that he was somehow deficient indelicacy, a low, faint cough guided him to the sofa where Miss O'Shea lay. 'Is that Mathew Kearney?' said she feebly. 'I think I know his foot. '

'Yes indeed, bad luck to them for shoes. Wherever Davy Morris gets theleather I don't know, but it's as loud as a barrel-organ. '

'Maybe they re cheap, Mathew. One puts up with many a thing for a littlecheapness. '

'That's the first shot!' muttered Kearney to himself, while he gave alittle cough to avoid reply. 

'Father Luke has been telling me, Mathew, that before I go this longjourney I ought to take care to settle any little matter here that's on mymind. "If there's anybody you bear an ill will to, " says he; "if there'sany one has wronged you, " says he, "told lies of you, or done you anybodily harm, send for him, " says he, "and let him hear your forgivenessout of your own mouth. I'll take care afterwards, " says Father Luke, "thathe'll have to settle the account with _me_; but _you_ mustn't mind that. You must be able to tell St. Joseph that you come with a clean breast and agood conscience ": and that's'--here she sighed heavily several times--'andthat's the reason I sent for you, Mathew Kearney!'

Poor Kearney sighed heavily over that category of misdoers with whom hefound himself classed, but he said nothing. 

'I don't want to say anything harsh to you, Mathew, nor have I strength tolisten, if you'd try to defend yourself; time is short with me now, butthis I must say, if I'm here now sick and sore, and if the poor boy in theother room is lying down with his fractured head, it is you, and you alone, have the blame. '

'May the blessed Virgin give me patience!' muttered he, as he wrung hishands despairingly. 

'I hope she will; and give you more, Mathew Kearney. I hope she'll give youa hearty repentance. I hope she'll teach you that the few days that remainto you in this life are short enough for contrition--ay--contrition andcastigation. '

'Ain't I getting it now, ' muttered he; but low as he spoke the words herquick hearing had caught them. 

'I hope you are; it is the last bit of friendship I can do you. You havea hard, worldly, selfish nature, Mathew; you had it as a boy, and it grewworse as you grew older. What many believed high spirits in you was nothingelse than the reckless devilment of a man that only thought of himself. You could afford to be--at least to look--light-hearted, for you caredfor nobody. You squandered your little property, and you'd have made awaywith the few acres that belonged to your ancestors, if the law wouldhave let you. As for the way you brought up your children, that lazy boybelow-stairs, that never did a hand's turn, is proof enough, and poorKitty, just because she wasn't like the rest of you, how she's treated!'

'How is that: what is my cruelty there?' cried he. 

'Don't try to make yourself out worse than you are, ' said she sternly, 'andpretend that you don't know the wrong you done her. '

'May I never--if I understand what you mean. '

'Maybe you thought it was no business of yours to provide for your ownchild. Maybe you had a notion that it was enough that she had her food anda roof over her while you were here, and that somehow--anyhow--she'd geton, as they call it, when you were in the other place. Mathew Kearney, I'llsay nothing so cruel to you as your own conscience is saying this minute;or maybe, with that light heart that makes your friends so fond of you, you never bothered yourself about her at all, and that's the way it comeabout. '

'What came about? I want to know _that_. '

'First and foremost, I don't think the law will let you. I don't believeyou can charge your estate against the entail. I have a note there to askMcKeown's opinion, and if I'm right, I'll set apart a sum in my will tocontest it in the Queen's Bench. I tell you this to your face, MathewKearney, and I'm going where I can tell it to somebody better than ahard-hearted, cruel old man. '

'What is it that I want to do, and that the law won't let me?' asked he, inthe most imploring accents. 

'At least twelve honest men will decide it. '

'Decide what! in the name of the saints?' cried he. 

'Don't be profane; don't parade your unbelieving notions to a poor oldwoman on her death-bed. You may want to leave your daughter a beggar, andyour son little better, but you have no right to disturb my last momentswith your terrible blasphemies. '

'I'm fairly bothered now, ' cried he, as his two arms dropped powerlessly tohis sides. 'So help me, if I know whether I'm awake or in a dream. '

'It's an excuse won't serve you where you'll be soon going, and I warn you, don't trust it. '

'Have a little pity on me, Miss Betty, darling, ' said he, in his mostcoaxing tone; 'and tell me what it is I have done?'

'You mean what you are trying to do; but what, please the Virgin, we'll notlet you!'

'What is _that_?'

'And what, weak and ill, and dying as I am, I've strength enough left in meto prevent, Mathew Kearney--and if you'll give me that Bible there, I'llkiss it, and take my oath that, if he marries her, he'll never put foot ina house of mine, nor inherit an acre that belongs to me; and all that I'llleave in my will shall be my--well, I won't say what, only it's somethinghe'll not have to pay a legacy duty on. Do you understand me now, or ain'tI plain enough yet?'

'No, not yet. You'll have to make it clearer still. '

'Faith, I must say you did not pick up much cuteness from your adopteddaughter. '

'Who is she?'

'The Greek hussy that you want to marry my nephew, and give a dowry to outof the estate that belongs to your son. I know it all, Mathew. I wasn't twohours in the house before my old woman brought me the story from Mary. Ay, stare if you like, but they all know it below-stairs, and a nice way youare discussed in your own house! Getting a promise out of a poor boy in abrain fever, making him give a pledge in his ravings! Won't it tell wellin a court of justice, of a magistrate, a county gentleman, a Kearney ofKilgobbin? Oh! Mathew, Mathew, I'm ashamed of you!'

'Upon my oath, you're making me ashamed of myself that I sit here andlisten to you, ' cried he, carried beyond all endurance. 'Abusing, ay, blackguarding me this last hour about a lying story that came from thekitchen. It's you that ought to be ashamed, old lady. Not, indeed, forbelieving ill of an old friend--for that's nature in you--but for nothaving common sense, just common sense to guide you, and a little commondecency to warn you. Look now, there is not a word--there is not a syllableof truth in the whole story. Nobody ever thought of your nephew askingmy niece to marry him; and if _he_ did, she wouldn't have him. She lookshigher, and she has a right to look higher than to be the wife of an Irishsquireen. '

'Go on, Mathew, go on. You waited for me to be as I am now before you hadcourage for words like these. '

'Well, I ask your pardon, and ask it in all humiliation and sorrow. Mytemper--bad luck to it!--gets the better, or, maybe, it's the worse, of meat times, and I say fifty things that I know I don't feel--just the waysailors load a gun with anything in the heat of an action. '

'I'm not in a condition to talk of sea-fights, Mr. Kearney, though I'mobliged to you all the same for trying to amuse me. You'll not think merude if I ask you to send Kate to me? And please to tell Father Luke thatI'll not see him this morning. My nerves have been sorely tried. One wordbefore you go, Mathew Kearney; and have compassion enough not to answer me. You may be a just man and an honest man, you may be fair in your dealings, and all that your tenants say of you may be lies and calumnies, but toinsult a poor old woman on her death-bed is cruel and unfeeling; and I'lltell you more, Mathew, it's cowardly and it's--'

Kearney did not wait to hear what more it might be, for he was already atthe door, and rushed out as if he was escaping from a fire. 

'I'm glad he's better than they made him out, ' said Miss Betty to herself, in a tone of calm soliloquy; 'and he'll not be worse for some of thehome truths I told him. ' And with this she drew on her silk mittens, andarranged her cap composedly, while she waited for Kate's arrival. 

As for poor Kearney, other troubles were awaiting him in his study, wherehe found his son and Mr. Holmes, the lawyer, sitting before a table coveredwith papers. 'I have no head for business now, ' cried Kearney. 'I don'tfeel over well to-day, and if you want to talk to me, you'll have to put itoff till to-morrow. '

'Mr. Holmes must leave for town, my lord, ' interposed Dick, in his mostinsinuating tone, 'and he only wants a few minutes with you before hegoes. '

'And it's just what he won't get. I would not see the Lord-Lieutenant if hewas here now. '

'The trial is fixed for Tuesday the 19th, my lord, ' cried Holmes, ' andthe National press has taken it up in such a way that we have no chancewhatever. The verdict will be "Guilty, " without leaving the box; and thewhole voice of public opinion will demand the very heaviest sentence thelaw can pronounce. '

'Think of that poor fellow O'Shea, just rising from a sick-bed, ' said Dick, as his voice shook with agitation. 

'They can't hang him. '

'No, for the scoundrel Gill is alive, and will be the chief witness on thetrial; but they may give him two years with prison labour, and if they do, it will kill him. '

'I don't know that. I've seen more than one fellow come out fresh andhearty after a spell. In fact, the plain diet, and the regular work, andthe steady habits, are wonderful things for a young man that has beenknocking about in a town life. '

'Oh, father, don't speak that way. I know Gorman well, and I can swear he'dnot survive it. '

Kearney shook his head doubtingly, and muttered, 'There's a great deal saidabout wounded pride and injured feelings, but the truth is, these thingsare like a bad colic, mighty hard to bear, if you like, but nobody everdies of it. '

'From all I hear about young Mr. O'Shea, ' said Holmes, 'I am led to believehe will scarcely live through an imprisonment. '

'To be sure! Why not? At three or four-and-twenty we're all of ushigh-spirited and sensitive and noble-hearted, and we die on the spot ifthere's a word against our honour. It is only after we cross the line inlife, wherever that be, that we become thick-skinned and hardened, and mindnothing that does not touch our account at the bank. Sure I know the theorywell! Ay, and the only bit of truth in it all is, that we cry out louderwhen we're young, for we are not so well used to bad treatment. '

'Right or wrong, no man likes to have the whole press of a nation assailinghim and all the sympathies of a people against him, ' said Holmes. 

'And what can you and your brothers in wigs do against that? Will all yourlittle beguiling ways and insinuating tricks turn the _Pike_ and the _IrishCry_ from what sells their papers? Here it is now, Mr. Holmes, and I can'tput it shorter. Every man that lives in Ireland knows in his heart he mustlive in hot water; but somehow, though he may not like it, he gets used toit, and he finds it does him no harm in the end. There was an uncle of myown was in a passion for forty years, and he died at eighty-six. '

'I wish I could only secure your attention, my lord, for ten minutes. '

'And what would you do, counsellor, if you had it?'

'You see, my lord, there are some very grave questions here. First of all, you and your brother magistrates had no right to accept bail. The injurywas too grave: Gill's life, as the doctor's certificate will prove, wasin danger. It was for a judge in Chambers to decide whether bail could betaken. They will move, therefore, in the Queen's Bench, for a mandamus--'

'May I never, if you won't drive me mad!' cried Kearney passionately; 'andI'd rather be picking oakum this minute than listening to all the possiblemisfortunes briefs and lawyers could bring on me. '

'Just listen to Holmes, father, ' whispered Dick. 'He thinks that Gill mightbe got over--that if done by _you_ with three or four hundred pounds, he'deither make his evidence so light, or he'd contradict himself, or, betterthan all, he'd not make an appearance at the trial--'

'Compounding a felony! Catch me at it!' cried the old man, with a yell. 

'Well, Joe Atlee will be here to-night, ' continued Dick. 'He's a cleverfellow at all rogueries. Will you let him see if it can't be arranged. '

'I don't care who does it, so it isn't Mathew Kearney, ' said he angrily, for his patience could endure no more. 'If you won't leave me alone now, Iwon't say but that I'll go out and throw myself into a bog-hole!'

There was a tone of such perfect sincerity in his speech, that, withoutanother word, Dick took the lawyer's arm, and led him from the room. 

A third voice was heard outside as they issued forth, and Kearney couldjust make out that it was Major Lockwood, who was asking Dick if he mighthave a few minutes' conversation with his father. 

'I don't suspect you'll find my father much disposed for conversation justnow. I think if you would not mind making your visit to him at anothertime--'

'Just so!' broke in the old man, 'if you're not coming with astrait-waistcoat, or a coil of rope to hold me down, I'd say it's better toleave me to myself. '

Whether it was that the major was undeterred by these forbidding evidences, or that what he deemed the importance of his communication warranted somerisk, certain it is he lingered at the door, and stood there where Dick andthe lawyer had gone and left him. 

A faint tap at the door at last apprised Kearney that some one was without, and he hastily, half angrily, cried, 'Come in!' Old Kearney almost startedwith surprise as the major walked in. 

'I'm not going to make any apology for intruding on you, ' cried he. 'What Iwant to say shall be said in three words, and I cannot endure the suspenseof not having them said and answered. I've had a whole night of feverishanxiety, and a worse morning, thinking and turning over the thing in mymind, and settled it must be at once, one way or other, for my head willnot stand it. '

'My own is tried pretty hard, and I can feel for you, ' said Kearney, with agrim humour. 

'I've come to ask if you'll give me your daughter?' said Lockwood, and hisface became blood-red with the effort the words had cost him. 

'Give you my daughter?' cried Kearney. 

'I want to make her my wife, and as I know little about courtship, and havenobody here that could settle this affair for me--for Walpole is thinkingof his own concerns--I've thought the best way, as it was the shortest, wasto come at once to yourself: I have got a few documents here that will showyou I have enough to live on, and to make a tidy settlement, and do allthat ought to be done. '

'I'm sure you are an excellent fellow, and I like you myself; but you see, major, a man doesn't dispose of his daughter like his horse, and I'd liketo hear what she would say to the bargain. '

'I suppose you could ask her?'

'Well, indeed, that's true, I could ask her; but on the whole, major, don'tyou think the question would come better from yourself?'

'That means courtship?'

'Yes, I admit it is liable to that objection, but somehow it's the usualcourse. '

'No, no, ' said the other slowly, 'I could not manage that. I'm sick ofbachelor life, and I'm ready to send in my papers and have done with it, but I don't know how to go about the other. Not to say, Kearney, ' added he, more boldly, 'that I think there is something confoundedly mean in thatdaily pursuit of a woman, till by dint of importunity, and one thing oranother, you get her to like you! What can she know of her own mind afterthree or four months of what these snobs call attentions? How is she to sayhow much is mere habit, how much is gratified vanity of having a fellowdangling after her, how much the necessity of showing the world she is notcompromised by the cad's solicitations? Take my word for it, Kearney, myway is the best. Be able to go up like a man and tell the girl, "It's allarranged. I've shown the old cove that I can take care of you, he has seenthat I've no debts or mortgages; I'm ready to behave handsomely, what doyou say yourself?"'

'She might say, "I know nothing about you. I may possibly not see much todislike, but how do I know I should like you. "'

'And I'd say, "I'm one of those fellows that are the same all through, to-day as I was yesterday, and to-morrow the same. When I'm in a bad temperI go out on the moors and walk it off, and I'm not hard to live with. "'

'There's many a bad fellow a woman might like better. '

'All the luckier for me, then, that I don't get her. '

'I might say, too, ' said Kearney, with a smile, 'how much do you know ofmy daughter--of her temper, her tastes, her habits, and her likings? Whatassurance have you that you would suit each other, and that you are not aswide apart in character as in country?'

'I'll answer for that. She's always good-tempered, cheerful, andlight-hearted. She's always nicely dressed and polite to every one. Shemanages this old house, and these stupid bog-trotters, till one fancies ita fine establishment and a first-rate household. She rides like a lion, andI'd rather hear her laugh than I'd listen to Patti. '

'I'll call all that mighty like being in love. '

'Do if you like--but answer me my question. '

'That is more than I'm able; but I'll consult my daughter. I'll tell herpretty much in your own words all you have said to me, and she shallherself give the answer. '

'All right, and how soon?'

'Well, in the course of the day. Should she say that she does notunderstand being wooed in this manner, that she would like more time tolearn something more about yourself, that, in fact, there is something tooperemptory in this mode of proceeding, I would not say she was wrong. '

'But if she says Yes frankly, you'll let me know at once. '

'I will--on the spot. '

CHAPTER LXXIX

PLEASANT CONGRATULATIONS

The news of Nina's engagement to Walpole soon spread through the castle atKilgobbin, and gave great satisfaction; even the humbler members of thehousehold were delighted to think there would be a wedding and all itsappropriate festivity. 

When the tidings at length arrived at Miss O'Shea's room, so reviving werethe effects upon her spirits, that the old lady insisted she should bedressed and carried down to the drawing-room that the bridegroom might bepresented to her in all form. 

Though Nina herself chafed at such a proceeding, and called it a most'insufferable pretension, ' she was perhaps not sorry secretly at theopportunity afforded herself to let the tiresome old woman guess how sheregarded her, and what might be their future relations towards each other. 'Not indeed, ' added she, 'that we are likely ever to meet again, or that Ishould recognise her beyond a bow if we should. '

As for Kearney, the announcement that Miss Betty was about to appear inpublic filled him with unmixed terror, and he muttered drearily as he went, 'There'll be wigs on the green for this. ' Nor was Walpole himself pleasedat the arrangement. Like most men in his position, he could not be broughtto see the delicacy or the propriety of being paraded as an object ofpublic inspection, nor did he perceive the fitness of that display oftrinkets which he had brought with him as presents, and the sight of whichhad become a sort of public necessity. 

Not the least strange part of the whole procedure was that no one couldtell where or how or with whom it originated. It was like one of thosemovements which are occasionally seen in political life, where, without thedirect intervention of any precise agent, a sort of diffused atmosphere ofpublic opinion suffices to produce results and effect changes that all areready to disavow but to accept. 

The mere fact of the pleasure the prospect afforded to Miss Betty preventedKate from offering opposition to what she felt to be both bad in taste andridiculous. 

'That old lady imagines, I believe, that I am to come down like a_prétendu_ in a French vaudeville--dressed in a tail-coat, with a whitetie and white gloves, and perhaps receive her benediction. She mistakesherself, she mistakes us. If there was a casket of uncouth old diamonds, or some marvellous old point lace to grace the occasion, we might play ourparts with a certain decorous hypocrisy; but to be stared at through adouble eye-glass by a snuffy old woman in black mittens, is more than oneis called on to endure--eh, Lockwood?'

'I don't know. I think I'd go through it all gladly to have the occasion. '

'Have a little patience, old fellow, it will all come right. My worthyrelatives--for I suppose I can call them so now--are too shrewd people torefuse the offer of such a fellow as you. They have that native pride thatdemands a certain amount of etiquette and deference. They must not seemto rise too eagerly to the fly; but only give them time--give them time, Lockwood. '

'Ay, but the waiting in this uncertainty is terrible to me. '

'Let it be certainty, then, and for very little I'll ensure you! Bearthis in mind, my dear fellow, and you'll see how little need there is forapprehension. You--and the men like you--snug fellows with comfortableestates and no mortgages, unhampered by ties and uninfluenced byconnections, are a species of plant that is rare everywhere, but actuallynever grew at all in Ireland, where every one spent double his income, andseldom dared to move a step without a committee of relations. Old Kearneyhas gone through that fat volume of the gentry and squirearchy of Englandlast night, and from Sir Simon de Lockwood, who was killed at Creçy, downto a certain major in the Carbineers, he knows you all. '

'I'll bet you a thousand they say No. '

'I've not got a thousand to pay if I should lose, but I'll lay a pony--two, if you like--that you are an accepted man this day--ay, before dinner. '

'If I only thought so!'

'Confound it--you don't pretend you are in love!'

'I don't know whether I am or not, but I do know how I should like to bringthat nice girl back to Hampshire, and install her at the Dingle. I've atidy stable, some nice shooting, a good trout-stream, and then I shouldhave the prettiest wife in the county. '

'Happy dog! Yours is the real philosophy of life. The fellows who arerealistic enough to reckon up the material elements of their happiness--whohave little to speculate on and less to unbelieve--they are right. '

'If you mean that I'll never break my heart because I don't get in for thecounty, that's true--I don't deny it. But come, tell me, is it all settledabout your business? Has the uncle been asked?--has he spoken?'

'He has been asked and given his consent. My distinguished father-in-law, the prince, has been telegraphed to this morning, and his reply may be hereto-night or to-morrow. At all events, we are determined that even should heprove adverse, we shall not be deterred from our wishes by the caprice of aparent who has abandoned us. '

'It's what people would call a love-match. '

'I sincerely trust it is. If her affections were not inextricably engaged, it is not possible that such a girl could pledge her future to a man ashumble as myself?'

'That is, she is very much in love with _you_?'

'I hope the astonishment of your question does not arise from its seemingdifficulty of belief?'

'No, not so much that, but I thought there might have been a littleheroics, or whatever it is, on your side. '

'Most dull dragoon, do you not know that, so long as a man spoons, he cantalk of his affection for a woman; but that, once she is about to be hiswife, or is actually his wife, he limits his avowals to _her_ love for_him_?'

'I never heard that before. I say, what a swell you are this morning. Thecock-pheasants will mistake you for one of them. '

'Nothing can be simpler, nothing quieter, I trust, than a suit of darkpurple knickerbockers; and you may see that my thread stockings and mycoarse shoes presuppose a stroll in the plantations, where, indeed, I meanto smoke my morning cigar. '

'She'll make you give up tobacco, I suppose?'

'Nothing of the kind--a thorough woman of the world enforces no suchpenalties as these. True free-trade is the great matrimonial maxim, andfor people of small means it is inestimable. The formula may be statedthus--'Dine at the best houses, and give tea at your own. '

What other precepts of equal wisdom Walpole was prepared to enunciate werelost to the world by a message informing him that Miss Betty was in thedrawing-room, and the family assembled, to see him. 

Cecil Walpole possessed a very fair stock of that useful quality calledassurance; but he had no more than he needed to enter that large room, where the assembled family sat in a half-circle, and stand to be surveyedby Miss O'Shea's eye-glass, unabashed. Nor was the ordeal the less tryingas he overheard the old lady ask her neighbour, 'if he wasn't the image ofthe Knave of Diamonds. '

'I thought you were the other man!' said she curtly, as he made his bow. 

'I deplore the disappointment, madam--even though I do not comprehend it. '

'It was the picture, the photograph, of the other man I saw--a fine, tall, dark man, with long moustaches. '

'The fine, tall, dark man, with the long moustaches, is in the house, andwill be charmed to be presented to you. '

'Ay, ay! presented is all very fine; but that won't make him thebridegroom, ' said she, with a laugh. 

'I sincerely trust it will not, madam. '

'And it is you, then, are Major Walpole?'

'Mr. Walpole, madam--my friend Lockwood is the major. '

'To be sure. I have it right now. You are the young man that got into thatunhappy scrape, and got the Lord-Lieutenant turned away--'

'I wonder how you endure this, ' burst out Nina, as she arose and walkedangrily towards a window. 

'I don't think I caught what the young lady said; but if it was, that whatcannot be cured must be endured, it is true enough; and I suppose thatthey'll get over your blunder as they have done many another. '

'I live in that hope, madam. '

'Not but it's a bad beginning in public life; and a stupid mistake hangslong on a man's memory. You're young, however, and people are generousenough to believe it might be a youthful indiscretion. '

'You give me great comfort, madam. '

'And now you are going to risk another venture?'

'I sincerely trust on safer grounds. '

'That's what they all think. I never knew a man that didn't believe he drewthe prize in matrimony. Ask him, however, six months after he's tied. Say, "What do you think of your ticket now?" Eh, Mat Kearney? It doesn't taketwenty or thirty years quarrelling and disputing to show one that a lotterywith so many blanks is just a swindle. '

A loud bang of the door, as Nina flounced out in indignation, almost shookthe room. 

'There's a temper you'll know more of yet, young gentleman; and, take myword for it, it's only in stage-plays that a shrew is ever tamed. '

'I declare, ' cried Dick, losing all patience, 'I think Miss O'Shea is toounsparing of us all. We have our faults, I'm sure; but public correctionwill not make us more comfortable. '

'It wasn't _your_ comfort I was thinking of, young man; and if I thoughtof your poor father's, I'd have advised him to put you out an apprentice. There's many a light business--like stationery, or figs, or children'stoys--and they want just as little capital as capacity. '

'Miss Betty, ' said Kearney stiffly, 'this is not the time nor the place forthese discussions. Mr. Walpole was polite enough to present himself hereto-day to have the honour of making your acquaintance, and to announce hisfuture marriage. '

'A great event for us all--and we're proud of it! It's what the newspaperswill call a great day for the Bog of Allen. Eh, Mat? The princess--Godforgive me, but I'm always calling her Costigan--but the princess willbe set down niece to Lord Kilgobbin; and if you'--and she addressedWalpole--'haven't a mock-title and a mock-estate, you'll be the only onewithout them!'

'I don't think any one will deny us our tempers, ' cried Kearney. 

'Here's Lockwood, ' cried Walpole, delighted to see his friend enter, thoughhe as quickly endeavoured to retreat. 

'Come in, major, ' said Kearney. 'We're all friends here. Miss O'Shea, thisis Major Lockwood, of the Carbineers--Miss O'Shea. '

Lockwood bowed stiffly, but did not speak. 

'Be attentive to the old woman, ' whispered Walpole. 'A word from her willmake your affair all right. '

'I have been very desirous to have had the honour of this introduction, madam, ' said Lockwood, as he seated himself at her side. 

'Was not that a clever diversion I accomplished with "the Heavy "?' saidWalpole, as he drew away Kearney and his son into a window. 

'I never heard her much worse than to-day, ' said Dick. 

'I don't know, ' hesitated Kilgobbin. 'I suspect she is breaking. There isnone of the sustained virulence I used to remember of old. She lapses intohalf-mildness at moments. '

'I own I did not catch them, nor, I'm afraid, did Nina, ' said Dick. 'Lookthere! I'll be shot if she's not giving your friend the major a lesson!When she performs in that way with her hands, you may swear she isdidactic. '

'I think I'll go to his relief, ' said Walpole; 'but I own it's a case forthe V. C. '

As Walpole drew nigh, he heard her saying: 'Marry one of your own race, andyou will jog on well enough. Marry a Frenchwoman or a Spaniard, and she'lllead her own life, and be very well satisfied; but a poor Irish girl, witha fresh heart and a joyous temper--what is to become of her, with your dullhabits and your dreary intercourse, your county society and your Chinesemanners!'

'Miss O'Shea is telling me that I must not look for a wife among hercountrywomen, ' said Lockwood, with a touching attempt to smile. 

'What I overheard was not encouraging, ' said Walpole; 'but I think MissO'Shea takes a low estimate of our social temperament. '

'Nothing of the kind! All I say is, you'll do mighty well for each other, or, for aught I know, you might intermarry with the Dutch or the Germans;but it's a downright shame to unite your slow sluggish spirits with thesparkling brilliancy and impetuous joy of an Irish girl. That's a union I'dnever consent to. '

'I hope this is no settled resolution, ' said Walpole, speaking in a lowwhisper; 'for I want to bespeak your especial influence in my friend'sbehalf. Major Lockwood is a most impassioned admirer of Miss Kearney, andhas already declared as much to her father. '

'Come over here, Mat Kearney! come over here this moment!' cried she, halfwild with excitement. 'What new piece of roguery, what fresh intrigue isthis? Will you dare to tell me you had a proposal for Kate, for my owngod-daughter, without even so much as telling me?'

'My dear Miss Betty, be calm, be cool for one minute, and I'll tell youeverything. '

'Ay, when I've found it out, Mat!'

'I profess I don't think my friend's pretensions are discussed with muchdelicacy, time and place considered, ' said Walpole. 

'We have something to think of as well as delicacy, young man: there's awoman's happiness to be remembered. '

'Here it is, now, the whole business, ' said Kearney. 'The major there askedme yesterday to get my daughter's consent to his addresses. '

'And you never told me, ' cried Miss Betty. 

'No, indeed, nor herself neither; for after I turned it over in my mind, Ibegan to see it wouldn't do--'

'How do you mean not do?' asked Lockwood. 

'Just let me finish. What I mean is this--if a man wants to marry an Irishgirl, he mustn't begin by asking leave to make love to her--'

'Mat's right!' cried the old lady stoutly. 

'And above all, he oughtn't to think that the short cut to her heart isthrough his broad acres. '

'Mat's right--quite right!'

'And besides this, that the more a man dwells on his belongings, and thesettlements, and such like, the more he seems to say, "I may not catch yourfancy in everything, I may not ride as boldly or dance as well as somebodyelse, but never mind--you're making a very prudent match, and there is adeal of pure affection in the Three per Cents. "'

'And I'll give you another reason, ' said Miss Betty resolutely. 'KateKearney cannot have two husbands, and I've made her promise to marry mynephew this morning. '

'What, without any leave of mine?' exclaimed Kearney. 

'Just so, Mat. She'll marry him if you give your consent; but whether youwill or not, she'll never marry another. '

'Is there, then, a real engagement?' whispered Walpole to Kearney. 'Has myfriend here got his answer?'

'He'll not wait for another, ' said Lockwood haughtily, as he arose. 'I'mfor town, Cecil, ' whispered he. 

'So shall I be this evening, ' replied Walpole, in the same tone. 'I musthurry over to London and see Lord Danesbury. I've my troubles too. ' And sosaying, he drew his arm within the major's, and led him away; while MissBetty, with Kearney on one side of her and Dick on the other, proceeded torecount the arrangement she had made to make over the Barn and the estateto Gorman, it being her own intention to retire altogether from the worldand finish her days in the 'Retreat. '

'And a very good thing to do, too, ' said Kearney, who was too muchimpressed with the advantages of the project to remember his politeness. 

'I have had enough of it, Mat, ' added she, in a lugubrious tone; 'and it'sall backbiting, and lying, and mischief-making, and what's worse, by thepeople who might live quietly and let others do the same!'

'What you say is true as the Bible. '

'It may be hard to do it, Mat Kearney, but I'll pray for them in my hoursof solitude, and in that blessed Retreat I'll ask for a blessing onyourself, and that your heart, hard and cruel and worldly as it is now, maybe changed; and that in your last days--maybe on the bed of sickness--whenyou are writhing and twisting with pain, with a bad heart and a worseconscience--when you'll have nobody but hirelings near you--hirelings thatwill be robbing you before your eyes, and not waiting till the breathleaves you--when even the drop of drink to cool your lips--'

'Don't--don't go on that way, Miss Betty. I've a cold shivering down thespine of my back this minute, and a sickness creeping all over me. '

'I'm glad of it. I'm glad that my words have power over your wicked oldnature--if it's not too late. '

'If it's miserable and wretched you wanted to make me, don't fret aboutyour want of success; though whether it all comes too late, I cannot tellyou. '

'We'll leave that to St. Joseph. '

'Do so! do so!' cried he eagerly, for he had a shrewd suspicion he wouldhave better chances of mercy at any hands than her own. 

'As for Gorman, if I find that he has any notions about claiming an acreof the property, I'll put it all into Chancery, and the suit will outlive_him_; but if he owns he is entirely dependent on my bounty, I'll settlethe Barn and the land on him, and the deed shall be signed the day hemarries your daughter. People tell you that you can't take your money withyou into the next world, Mat Kearney, and a greater lie was never uttered. Thanks to the laws of England, and the Court of Equity in particular, it'sthe very thing you can do! Ay, and you can provide, besides, that everybodybut the people that had a right to it shall have a share. So I say toGorman O'Shea, beware what you are at, and don't go on repeating thatstupid falsehood about not carrying your debentures into the next world. '

'You are a wise woman, and you know life well, ' said he solemnly. 

'And if I am, it's nothing to sigh over, Mr. Kearney. One is grateful formercies, but does not groan over them like rheumatism or the lumbago. '

'Maybe I 'in a little out of spirits to-day. '

'I shouldn't wonder if you were. They tell me you sat over your wine, withthat tall man, last night, till nigh one o'clock, and it's not at your timeof life that you can do these sort of excesses with impunity; you had agood constitution once, and there's not much left of it. '

'My patience, I'm grateful to see, has not quite deserted me. '

'I hope there's other of your virtues you can be more sure of, ' saidshe, rising, 'for if I was asked your worst failing, I'd say it was yourirritability. ' And with a stern frown, as though to confirm the judicialseverity of her words, she nodded her head to him and walked away. 

It was only then that Kearney discovered he was left alone, and that Dickhad stolen away, though when or how he could not say. 

'I'm glad the boy was not listening to her, for I'm downright ashamed thatI bore it, ' was his final reflection as he strolled out to take a walk inthe plantation. 

CHAPTER LXXX

A NEW ARRIVAL

Though the dinner-party that day at Kilgobbin Castle was deficient in thepersons of Lockwood and Walpole, the accession of Joe Atlee to the companymade up in a great measure for the loss. He arrived shortly before dinnerwas announced, and even in the few minutes in the drawing-room, his gay andlively manner, his pleasant flow of small talk, dashed with the lightestof epigrams, and that marvellous variety he possessed, made every onedelighted with him. 

'I met Walpole and Lockwood at the station, and did my utmost to make themturn back with me. You may laugh, Lord Kilgobbin, but in doing the honoursof another man's house, as I was at that moment, I deem myself without arival. '

'I wish with all my heart you had succeeded; there is nothing I like asmuch as a well-filled table, ' said Kearney. 

'Not that their air and manner, ' resumed Joe, 'impressed me strongly withthe exuberance of their spirits; a pair of drearier dogs I have not seenfor some time, and I believe I told them so. '

'Did they explain their gloom, or even excuse it?' asked Dick. 

'Except on the general grounds of coming away from such fascinatingsociety. Lockwood played sulky, and scarcely vouchsafed a word, and as forWalpole, he made some high-flown speeches about his regrets and his tornsensibilities--so like what one reads in a French novel, that the verysound of them betrays unreality. '

'But was it, then, so very impossible to be sorry for leaving this?' askedNina calmly. 

'Certainly not for any man but Walpole. '

'And why not Walpole?'

'Can you ask me? You who know people so well, and read them so clearly; youto whom the secret anatomy of the "heart" is no mystery, and who understandhow to trace the fibre of intense selfishness through every tissue of hissmall nature. He might be miserable at being separated from himself--therecould be no other estrangement would affect _him_. '

'This was not always your estimate of your _friend_, ' said Nina, with amarked emphasis of the last word. 

'Pardon me, it was my unspoken opinion from the first hour I met him. Sincethen, some space of time has intervened, and though it has made no changein him, I hope it has dealt otherwise with me. I have at least reached thepoint in life where men not only have convictions but avow them. '

'Come, come; I can remember what precious good-luck you called it to makehis acquaintance, ' cried Dick, half angrily. 

'I don't deny it. I was very nigh drowning at the time, and it was thefirst plank I caught hold of. I am very grateful to him for the rescue; butI owe him more gratitude for the opportunity the incident gave me to seethese men in their intimacy--to know, and know thoroughly, what is therange, what the stamp of those minds by which states are ruled and massesare governed. Through Walpole I knew his master; and through the master Ihave come to know the slipshod intelligences which, composed of officialdetail, House of Commons' gossip, and _Times_' leaders, are accepted by usas statesmen. And if--' A very supercilious smile on Nina's mouth arrestedhim in the current of his speech, and he said, 'I know, of course, I knowthe question you are too polite to ask, but which quivers on your lip: "Whois the gifted creature that sees all this incompetence and insufficiencyaround him?" And I am quite ready to tell you. It is Joseph Atlee--JosephAtlee, who knows that when he and others like him--for we are a strongcoterie--stop the supply of ammunition, these gentlemen must cease firing. Let the _Débats_ and the _Times_, the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ and the_Saturday_, and a few more that I need not stop to enumerate, strike work, and let us see how much of original thought you will obtain from yourCabinet sages! It is in the clash and collision of the thinkers outside ofresponsibility that these world-revered leaders catch the fire that lightsup their policy. The _Times_ made the Crimean blunder. The _Siècle_ createdthe Mexican fiasco. The _Kreuz Zeitung_ gave the first impulse to theSchleswig-Holstein imbroglio; and if I mistake not, the "review" in thelast _Diplomatic Chronicle_ will bear results of which he who now speaks toyou will not disown the parentage. '

'The saints be praised! here's dinner, ' exclaimed Kearney, 'or this fellowwould talk us into a brain-fever. Kate is dining with Miss Betty again--Godbless her for it, ' muttered he as he gave his arm to Nina, and led the way. 

'I've got you a commission as a "peeler, " Dick, ' said Joe, as they movedalong. 'You'll have to prove that you can read and write, which is morethan they would ask of you if you were going into the Cabinet; but we livein an intellectual age, and we test all the cabin-boys, and it is only thesteersman we take on trust. '

Though Nina was eager to resent Atlee's impertinence on Walpole, she couldnot help feeling interested and amused by his sketches of his travels. 

If, in speaking of Greece, he only gave the substance of the article he hadwritten for the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, as the paper was yet unpublishedall the remarks were novel, and the anecdotes fresh and sparkling. The toneof light banter and raillery in which he described public life in Greeceand Greek statesmen, might have lost some of its authority had any oneremembered to count the hours the speaker had spent in Athens; and Ninawas certainly indignant at the hazardous effrontery of the criticisms. Itwas not, then, without intention that she arose to retire while Atlee wasrelating an interesting story of brigandage, and he--determined to repaythe impertinence in kind--continued to recount his history as he arose toopen the door for her to pass out. Her insolent look as she swept by wasmet by a smile of admiration on his part that actually made her cheektingle with anger. 

Old Kearney dozed off gently, under the influence of names of places andpersons that did not interest him, and the two young men drew their chairsto the fire, and grew confidential at once. 

'I think you have sent my cousin away in bad humour, ' said Dick. 

'I see it, ' said Joe, as he slowly puffed his cigar. 'That young lady'shead has been so cruelly turned by flattery of late, that the man who doesnot swing incense before her affronts her. '

'Yes; but you went out of your way to provoke her. It is true she knowslittle of Greece or Greeks, but it offends her to hear them slighted orridiculed; and you took pains to do both. '

'Contemptible little country! with a mock-army, a mock-treasury, and amock-chamber. The only thing real is the debt and the brigandage. '

'But why tell her so? You actually seemed bent on irritating her. '

'Quite true--so I was. My dear Dick, you have some lessons to learn inlife, and one of them is that, just as it is bad heraldry to put colouron colour, it is an egregious blunder to follow flattery by flattery. Thewoman who has been spoiled by over-admiration must be approached withsomething else as unlike it as may be--pique--annoy--irritate--outrage, but take care that you interest her Let her only come to feel what a verytiresome thing mere adulation is, and she will one day value your two orthree civil speeches as gems of priceless worth. It is exactly because Ideeply desire to gain her affections, I have begun in this way. '

'You have come too late. '

'How do you mean too late--she is not engaged?'

'She is engaged--she is to be married to Walpole. '

'To Walpole!'

'Yes; he came over a few days ago to ask her. There is some questionnow--I don't well understand it--about some family consent, or aninvitation--something, I believe, that Nina insists on, to show the worldhow his family welcome her amongst them; and it is for this he has gone toLondon, but to be back in eight or nine days, the wedding to take placetowards the end of the month. '

'Is he very much in love?'

'I should say he is. '

'And she? Of course she could not possibly care for a fellow like Walpole?'

'I don't see why not. He is very much the stamp of man girls admire. '

'Not girls like Nina; not girls who aspire to a position in life, and whoknow that the little talents of the salon no more make a man of the worldthan the tricks of the circus will make a foxhunter. These ambitiouswomen--she is one of them--will marry a hopeless idiot if he can bringwealth and rank and a great name; but they will not take a brainlesscreature who has to work his way up in the world. If she has acceptedWalpole, there is pique in it, or ennui, or that uneasy desire of changethat girls suffer from like a malady. '

'I cannot tell you why, but I know she has accepted him. '

'Women are not insensible to the value of second thoughts. '

'You mean she might throw him over--might jilt him?'

'I'll not employ the ugly word that makes the wrong it is only meant toindicate; but there are few of our resolves in life to which we might notmove amendment, and the changed opinion a woman forms of a man beforemarriage would become a grievous injury if it happened after. '

'But must she of necessity change?'

'If she marry Walpole, I should say certainly. If a girl has fair abilitiesand a strong temper--and Nina has a good share of each--she will endurefaults, actual vices, in a man, but she'll not stand littleness. Walpolehas nothing else; and so I hope to prove to her to-morrow and the dayafter--in fact, during those eight or ten days you tell me he will beabsent. '

'Will she let you? Will she listen to you?'

'Not at first--at least, not willingly, or very easily; but I will showher, by numerous little illustrations and even fables, where these smallpeople not only spoil their fortunes in life, but spoil life itself; andwhat an irreparable blunder it is to link companionship with one of them. Iwill sometimes make her laugh, and I may have to make her cry--it will notbe easy, but I shall do it--I shall certainly make her thoughtful; and ifyou can do this day by day, so that a woman will recur to the same themepretty much in the same spirit, you must be a sorry steersman, Master Dick, but you will know how to guide these thoughts and trace the channel theyshall follow. '

'And supposing, which I do not believe, that you could get her to breakwith Walpole, what could _you_ offer her?'

'Myself!'

'Inestimable boon, doubtless; but what of fortune--position or place inlife?'

'The first Napoleon used to say that the "power of the unknown number wasincommensurable"; and so I don't despair of showing her that a man likemyself may be anything. '

Dick shook his head doubtingly, and the other went on: 'In this round gamewe call life it is all "brag. " The fellow with the worst card in the pack, if he'll only risk his head on it, keep a bold face to the world and hisown counsel, will be sure to win. Bear in mind, Dick, that for some timeback I have been keeping the company of these great swells who sit highestin the Synagogue, and dictate to us small Publicans. I have listenedto their hesitating counsels and their uncertain resolves; I have seenthe blotted despatches and equivocal messages given, to be disavowed ifneedful; I have assisted at those dress rehearsals where speech was tofollow speech, and what seemed an incautious avowal by one was to be"improved" into a bold declaration by another "in another place"; in fact, my good friend, I have been near enough to measure the mighty intelligencesthat direct us, and if I were not a believer in Darwin, I should be verymuch shocked for what humanity was coming to. It is no exaggeration thatI say, if you were to be in the Home Office, and I at the Foreign Office, without our names being divulged, there is not a man or woman in Englandwould be the wiser or the worse; though if either of us were to take chargeof the engine of the Holyhead line, there would be a smash or an explosionbefore we reached Rugby. '

'All that will not enable you to make a settlement on Nina Kostalergi. '

'No; but I'll marry her all the same. '

'I don't think so. '

'Will you have a bet on it, Dick? What will you wager?'

'A thousand--ten, if I had it; but I'll give you ten pounds on it, which isabout as much as either of us could pay. '

'Speak for yourself, Master Dick. As Robert Macaire says, "_Je viens detoucher mes dividendes_, " and I am in no want of money. The fact is, solong as a man can pay for certain luxuries in life, he is well off: thestrictly necessary takes care of itself. '

'Does it? I should like to know how. '

'With your present limited knowledge of life, I doubt if I could explain itto you, but I will try one of these mornings. Meanwhile, let us go into thedrawing-room and get mademoiselle to sing for us. She will sing, I takeit?'

'Of course--if asked by you. ' And there was the very faintest tone of sneerin the words. 

And they did go, and mademoiselle did sing all that Atlee could ask herfor, and she was charming in every way that grace and beauty and thewish to please could make her. Indeed, to such extent did she carry herfascinations that Joe grew thoughtful at last, and muttered to himself, 'There is vendetta in this. It is only a woman knows how to make avengeance out of her attractions. '

'Why are you so serious, Mr. Atlee?' asked she at last. 

'I was thinking--I mean, I was trying to think--yes, I remember it now, 'muttered he. 'I have had a letter for you all this time in my pocket. '

'A letter from Greece?' asked she impatiently. 

'No--at least I suspect not. It was given me as I drove through the bog bya barefooted boy, who had trotted after the car for miles, and at lengthovertook us by the accident of the horse picking up a stone in his hoof. He said it was for "some one at the castle, " and I offered to take chargeof it--here it is, ' and he produced a square-shaped envelope of commoncoarse-looking paper, sealed with red wax, and a shamrock for impress. 

'A begging-letter, I should say, from the outside, ' said Dick. 

'Except that there is not one so poor as to ask aid from me, ' added Nina, as she took the document, glanced at the writing, and placed it in herpocket. 

As they separated for the night, and Dick trotted up the stairs at Atlee'sside, he said, 'I don't think, after all, my ten pounds is so safe as Ifancied. '

'Don't you?' replied Joe. 'My impressions are all the other way, Dick. Itis her courtesy that alarms me. The effort to captivate where there is nostake to win, means mischief. She'll make me in love with her whether Iwill or not. ' The bitterness of his tone, and the impatient bang he gavehis door as he passed in, betrayed more of temper than was usual for him todisplay, and as Dick sought his room, he muttered to himself, 'I'm glad tosee that these over-cunning fellows are sure to meet their match, and getbeaten even at the game of their own invention. '

CHAPTER LXXXI

AN UNLOOKED-FOR CORRESPONDENT

It was no uncommon thing for the tenants to address petitions andcomplaints in writing to Kate, and it occurred to Nina as not impossiblethat some one might have bethought him of entreating her intercession intheir favour. The look of the letter, and the coarse wax, and the writing, all in a measure strengthened this impression, and it was in the mostcareless of moods she broke the envelope, scarcely caring to look for thename of the writer, whom she was convinced must be unknown to her. 

She had just let her hair fall freely down on her neck and shoulders, andwas seated in a deep chair before her fire, as she opened the paper andread, 'Mademoiselle Kostalergi. ' This beginning, so unlikely for a peasant, made her turn for the name, and she read, in a large full hand, the words'DANIEL DONOGAN. ' So complete was her surprise, that to satisfy herselfthere was no trick or deception, she examined the envelope and the seal, and reflected for some minutes over the mode in which the document had cometo her hands. Atlee's story was a very credible one: nothing more likelythan that the boy was charged to deliver the letter at the castle, andsimply sought to spare himself so many miles of way, or it might be thathe was enjoined to give it to the first traveller he met on his road toKilgobbin. Nina had little doubt that if Atlee guessed or had reason toknow the writer, he would have treated the letter as a secret missive whichwould give him a certain power over her. 

These thoughts did not take her long, and she turned once more to theletter. 'Poor fellow, ' said she aloud, 'why does he write to _me_?' Andher own voice sent back its surmises to her; and as she thought over himstanding on the lonely road, his clasped hands before him, and his hairwafted wildly back from his uncovered head, two heavy tears rolled slowlydown her cheeks and dropped upon her neck. 'I am sure he loved me--I knowhe loved me, ' muttered she, half aloud. 'I have never seen in any eye thesame expression that his wore as he lay that morning in the grass. It wasnot veneration, it was genuine adoration. Had I been a saint and wantedworship, there was the very offering that I craved--a look of painfulmeaning, made up of wonder and devotion, a something that said: take whatcourse you may, be wilful, be wayward, be even cruel, I am your slave. You may not think me worthy of a thought, you may be so indifferent as toforget me utterly, but my life from this hour has but one spell to charm, one memory to sustain it. It needed not his last words to me to say that myimage would lay on his heart for ever. Poor fellow, _I_ need not have beenadded to his sorrows, he has had his share of trouble without _me_!'

It was some time ere she could return to the letter, which ran thus:--

'MADEMOISELLE KOSTALERGI, --You once rendered me a great service--not aloneat some hazard to yourself, but by doing what must have cost you sorely. Itis now _my_ turn; and if the act of repayment is not equal to the originaldebt, let me ask you to believe that it taxes _my_ strength even more than_your_ generosity once taxed your own. 

'I came here a few days since in the hope that I might see you before Ileave Ireland for ever; and while waiting for some fortunate chance, Ilearned that you were betrothed and to be married to the young gentlemanwho lies ill at Kilgobbin, and whose approaching trial at the assizes isnow the subject of so much discussion. I will not tell you--I have no rightto tell you--the deep misery with which these tidings filled me. It was nouse to teach my heart how vain and impossible were all my hopes with regardto you. It was to no purpose that I could repeat over aloud to myself howhopeless my pretensions must be. My love for you had become a religion, andwhat I could deny to a hope, I could still believe. Take that hope away, and I could not imagine how I should face my daily life, how interestmyself in its ambitions, and even care to live on. 

'These sad confessions cannot offend you, coming from one even as humble asI am. They are all that are left me for consolation--they will soon be allI shall have for memory. The little lamp in the lowly shrine comforts thekneeling worshipper far more than it honours the saint; and the love Ibear you is such as this. Forgive me if I have dared these utterances. Tosave him with whose fortunes your own are to be bound up became at oncemy object; and as I knew with what ingenuity and craft his ruin had beencompassed, it required all my efforts to baffle his enemies. The Nationalpress and the National party have made a great cause of this trial, anddetermined that tenant-right should be vindicated in the person of this manGill. 

'I have seen enough of what is intended here to be aware what mischief maybe worked by hard swearing, a violent press, and a jury not insensible topublic opinion--evils, if you like, but evils that are less of our owngrowing than the curse ill-government has brought upon us. It has beendecided in certain councils--whose decrees are seldom gainsaid--that anexample shall be made of Captain Gorman O'Shea, and that no effort shallbe spared to make his case a terror and a warning to Irish landowners; howthey attempt by ancient process of law to subvert the concessions we havewrung from our tyrants. 

'A jury to find him guilty will be sworn; and let us see the judge--indefiance of a verdict given from the jury-box, without a moment'shesitation or the shadow of dissent--let us see the judge who will dare todiminish the severity of the sentence. This is the language, these are thevery words of those who have more of the rule of Ireland in their handsthan the haughty gentlemen, honourable and right honourable, who sit atWhitehall. 

'I have heard this opinion too often of late to doubt how much it is afixed determination of the party; and until now--until I came here, andlearned what interest his fate could have for me--I offered no oppositionto these reasonings. Since then I have bestirred myself actively. I haveaddressed the committee here who have taken charge of the prosecution; Ihave written to the editors of the chief newspapers; I have even made adirect appeal to the leading counsel for the prosecution, and tried topersuade them that a victory here might cost us more than a defeat, andthat the country at large, who submit with difficulty to the verdict ofabsolving juries, will rise with indignation at this evidence of a juryprepared to exercise a vindictive power, and actually make the law theagent of reprisal. I have failed in all--utterly failed. Some reproach meas faint-hearted and craven; some condescend to treat me as merely mistakenand misguided; and some are bold enough to hint that, though as a militaryauthority I stand without rivalry, as a purely political adviser, mycounsels are open to dispute. 

'I have still a power, however, through the organisation of which I am achief; and by this power I have ordered Gill to appear before me, and inobedience to my commands, he will sail this night for America. With himwill also leave the two other important witnesses in this cause; so thatthe only evidence against Captain O'Shea will be some of those against whomhe has himself instituted a cross charge for assault. That the prosecutioncan be carried on with such testimony need not be feared. Our press willdenounce the infamous arts by which these witnesses have been tamperedwith, and justice has been defeated. The insults they may hurl at ouroppressors--for once unjustly--will furnish matter for the Oppositionjournals to inveigh against our present Government, and some good may comeeven of this. At all events, I shall have accomplished what I sought. Ishall have saved from a prison the man I hate most on earth, the man who, robbing me of what never could be mine, robs me of every hope, of everyambition, making my love as worthless as my life! Have I not repaid you?Ask your heart which of us has done more for the other?

'The contract on which Gill based his right as a tenant, and which wouldhave sustained his action, is now in my hands; and I will--if you permitme--place it in yours. This may appear an ingenious device to secure ameeting with you; but though I long to see you once more, were it but aminute, I would not compass it by a fraud. If, then, you will not see me, Ishall address the packet to you through the post. 

'I have finished. I have told you what it most concerns you to know, and what chiefly regards your happiness. I have done this as coldly andimpassively, I hope, as though I had no other part in the narrative thanthat of the friend whose friendship had a blessed office. I have not toldyou of the beating heart that hangs over this paper, nor will I darken onebright moment of your fortune by the gloom of mine. If you will write meone line--a farewell if it must be--send it to the care of Adam Cobb, "Cross Keys, " Moate, where I shall find it up to Thursday next. If--and oh!how shall I bless you for it--if you will consent to see me, to say oneword, to let me look on you once more, I shall go into my banishment with abolder heart, as men go into battle with an amulet. DANIEL DONOGAN. '

'Shall I show this to Kate?' was the first thought of Nina as she laid theletter down. 'Is it a breach of confidence to let another than myself readthese lines? Assuredly they were meant for my eyes alone. Poor fellow!'said she, once more aloud. 'It was very noble in him to do this for one hecould not but regard as a rival. ' And then she asked herself how far itmight consist with honour to derive benefit from his mistake--since mistakeit was--in believing O'Shea was her lover, and to be her future husband. 

'There can be little doubt Donogan would never have made the sacrifice hadhe known that I am about to marry Walpole. ' From this she rambled on tospeculate on how far might Donogan's conduct compromise or endanger himwith his own party, and if--which she thought well probable--there was adistinct peril in what he was doing, whether he would have incurred thatperil if he really knew the truth, and that it was not herself he wasserving. 

The more she canvassed these doubts, the more she found the difficulty ofresolving them, nor indeed was there any other way than one--distinctly toask Donogan if he would persist in his kind intentions when he knew thatthe benefit was to revert to her cousin and not to herself. So far as theevidence of Gill at the trial was concerned, the man's withdrawal wasalready accomplished, but would Donogan be as ready to restore the lease, and would he, in fact, be as ready to confront the danger of all thisinterference, as at first? She could scarcely satisfy her mind how shewould wish him to act in the contingency! She was sincerely fond of Kate, she knew all the traits of honesty and truth in that simple character, andshe valued the very qualities of straightforwardness and direct purposein which she knew she was herself deficient. She would have liked well tosecure that dear girl's happiness, and it would have been an exquisitedelight to her to feel that she had been an aid to her welfare; and yet, with all this, there was a subtle jealousy that tortured her in thinking, 'What will this man have done to prove his love for _me_? Where am I, andwhat are my interests in all this?' There was a poison in this doubt thatactually extended to a state of fever. 'I must see him, ' she said at last, speaking aloud to herself. 'I must let him know the truth. If what heproposes shall lead him to break with his party or his friends, it is wellhe should see for what and for whom he is doing it. '

And then she persuaded herself she would like to hear Donogan talk, as oncebefore she had heard him talk, of his hopes and his ambitions. There wassomething in the high-sounding inspirations of the man, a lofty heroism inall he said, that struck a chord in her Greek nature. The cause that wasso intensely associated with danger that life was always on the issue, was exactly the thing to excite her heart, and, like the trumpet-blast tothe charger, she felt stirred to her inmost soul by whatever appealed toreckless daring and peril. 'He shall tell me what he intends to do--hisplans, his projects, and his troubles. He shall tell me of his hopes, whathe desires in the future, and where he himself will stand when his effortshave succeeded; and oh!' thought she, 'are not the wild extravagances ofthese men better a thousand times than the well-turned nothings of the finegentlemen who surround us? Are not their very risks and vicissitudes moremanly teachings than the small casualties of the polished world? If lifewere all "salon, " taste perhaps might decide against them; but it is notall "salon, " or, if it were, it would be a poorer thing even than I thinkit!' She turned to her desk as she said this, and wrote:--

'DEAR MR. DONOGAN, --I wish to thank you in person for the great kindnessyou have shown me, though there is some mistake on your part in the matter. I cannot suppose you are able to come here openly, but if you will be inthe garden on Saturday evening at 9 o'clock, I shall be there to meet you. I am, very truly yours, 'NINA KOSTALERGI. '

'Very imprudent--scarcely delicate--perhaps, all this, and for a girl whois to be married to another man in some three weeks hence, but I willtell Cecil Walpole all when he returns, and if he desires to be off hisengagement, he shall have the liberty. I have one-half at least of theBayard Legend, and if I cannot say I am "without reproach, " I am certainlywithout fear. '

The letter-bag lay in the hall, and Nina went down at once and depositedher letter in it; this done, she lay down on her bed, not to sleep, but tothink over Donogan and his letter till daybreak. 

CHAPTER LXXXII

THE BREAKFAST-ROOM

'Strange house this, ' said Joseph Atlee, as Nina entered the room the nextmorning where he sat alone at breakfast. 'Lord Kilgobbin and Dick were herea moment ago, and disappeared suddenly; Miss Kearney for an instant, andalso left as abruptly; and now you have come, I most earnestly hope not tofly away in the same fashion. '

'No; I mean to eat my breakfast, and so far to keep you company. '

'I thank the tea-urn for my good fortune, ' said he solemnly. 

'A _tête-à-tête_ with Mr. Atlee is a piece of good-luck, ' said Nina, as shesat down. 'Has anything occurred to call our hosts away?'

'In a house like this, ' said he jocularly, 'where people are marrying orgiving in marriage at every turn, what may not happen? It may be a questionof the settlement, or the bridecake, or white satin "slip"--if that's thename for it--the orange-flowers, or the choice of the best man--who knows?'

'You seem to know the whole bead-roll of wedding incidents. '

'It is a dull _répertoire_ after all, for whether the piece be melodrama, farce, genteel comedy, or harrowing tragedy, it has to be played by thesame actors. '

'What would you have--marriages cannot be all alike. There must be manymarriages for things besides love: for ambition, for interest, for money, for convenience. '

'Convenience is exactly the phrase I wanted and could not catch. '

'It is not the word _I_ wanted, nor do I think we mean the same thing byit. '

'What I mean is this, ' said Atlee, with a firm voice, 'that when a younggirl has decided in her own mind that she has had enough of that socialbondage of the daughter, and cannot marry the man she would like, she willmarry the man that she can. '

'And like him too, ' added Nina, with a strange, dubious sort of smile. 

'Yes, and like him too; for there is a curious feature in the woman'snature that, without any falsehood or disloyalty, permits her to likedifferent people in different ways, so that the quiet, gentle, almostimpassive woman might, if differently mated, have been a being of fervidtemper, headstrong and passionate. If it were not for this species ofaccommodation, marriage would be a worse thing than it is. '

'I never suspected you of having made a study of the subject. Since whenhave you devoted your attention to the theme?'

'I could answer in the words of Wilkes--since I have had the honour toknow your Royal Highness; but perhaps you might be displeased with theflippancy. '

'I should think that very probable, ' said she gravely. 

'Don't look so serious. Remember that I did not commit myself after all. '

'I thought it was possible to discuss this problem without a personality. '

'Don't you know that, let one deal in abstractions as long as he will, heis only skirmishing around special instances. It is out of what I gleanfrom individuals I make up my generalities. '

'Am I to understand by this that I have supplied you with the material ofone of these reflections?'

'You have given me the subject of many. If I were to tell you how often Ihave thought of you, I could not answer for the words in which I might tellit. '

'Do not tell it, then. '

'I know--I am aware--I have heard since I came here that there is a specialreason why you could not listen to me. '

'And being so, why do you propose that I should hear you?'

'I will tell you, ' said he, with an earnestness that almost startledher: 'I will tell you, because there are things on which a doubt or anequivocation are actually maddening; and I will not, I cannot, believe thatyou have accepted Cecil Walpole. '

'Will you please to say why it should seem so incredible?'

'Because I have seen you not merely in admiration, and that admirationwould be better conveyed by a stronger word; and because I have measuredyou with others infinitely beneath you in every way, and who are yetsoaring into very high regions indeed; because I have learned enough of theworld to know that alongside of--often above--the influence that men arewielding in life by their genius and their capacity, there is another powerexercised by women of marvellous beauty, of infinite attractions, andexquisite grace, which sways and moulds the fate of mankind far more thanCabinets and Councils. There are not above half a dozen of these in Europe, and you might be one added to the number. '

'Even admitting all this--and I don't see that I should go so far--it is noanswer to my question. '

'Must I then say there can be no--not companionship, that's not the word;no, I must take the French expression, and call it _solidarité_--there canbe no _solidarité_ of interests, of objects, of passions, or of hopes, between people so widely dissevered as you and Walpole. I am so convincedof this, that still I can dare to declare I cannot believe you could marryhim. '

'And if I were to tell you it were true?'

'I should still regard it as a passing caprice, that the mere mention ofto-morrow would offend you. It is no disparagement of Walpole to say he isunworthy of you, for who would be worthy? but the presumption of his daringis enough to excite indignation--at least, I feel it such. How he coulddare to link his supreme littleness with consummate perfection; to freightthe miserable barque of his fortunes with so precious a cargo; to encounterthe feeling--and there is no escape for it--"I must drag that woman down, not alone into obscurity, but into all the sordid meanness of a smallcondition, that never can emerge into anything better. " He cannot disguisefrom himself that it is not within his reach to attain power, or place, or high consideration. Such men make no name in life; they leave nomark on their time. They are heaven-born subordinates, and never refutetheir destiny. Does a woman with ambition--does a woman conscious ofher own great merits--condescend to ally herself, not alone with smallfortune--that might be borne--but with the smaller associations that makeup these men's lives? with the peddling efforts to mount even one runghigher of that crazy little ladder of their ambition--to be a clerk ofanother grade--a creature of some fifty pounds more--a being in an upperoffice?'

'And the prince--for he ought to be at least a prince who should make methe offer of his name--whence is he to come, Mr. Atlee?'

'There are men who are not born to princely station, who by their geniusand their determination are just as sure to become famous, and who need butthe glorious prize of such a woman's love--No, no, don't treat what I sayas rant and rodomontade; these are words of sober sense and seriousness. '

'Indeed!' said she, with a faint sigh. 'So that it really amounts tothis--that I shall actually have missed my whole fortune in life--thrownmyself away--all because I would not wait for Mr. Atlee to propose to me. '

Nothing less than Atlee's marvellous assurance and self-possession couldhave sustained this speech unabashed. 

'You have only said what my heart has told me many a day since. '

'But you seem to forget, ' added she, with a very faint curl of scorn onher lip, 'that I had no more to guide me to the discovery of Mr. Atlee'saffection than that of his future greatness. Indeed, I could more readilybelieve in the latter than the former. '

'Believe in both, ' cried he warmly. 'If I have conquered difficulties inlife, if I have achieved some successes--now for a passing triumph, nowfor a moment of gratified vanity, now for a mere caprice--try me by a merehope--I only plead for a hope--try me by hope of being one day worthy ofcalling that hand my own. '

As he spoke, he tried to grasp her hand; but she withdrew it coldly andslowly, saying, 'I have no fancy to make myself the prize of any success inlife, political or literary; nor can I believe that the man who reasonsin this fashion has any really high ambition. Mr. Atlee, ' added she, moregravely, 'your memory may not be as good as mine, and you will pardon meif I remind you that, almost at our first meeting, we struck up a sort offriendship, on the very equivocal ground of a common country. We agreedthat each of us claimed for their native land the mythical Bohemia, and weagreed, besides, that the natives of that country are admirable colleagues, but not good partners. '

'You are not quite fair in this, ' he began; but before he could say moreDick Kearney entered hurriedly, and cried out, 'It's all true. The peopleare in wild excitement, and all declare that they will not let him betaken. Oh! I forgot, ' added he. 'You were not here when my father and Iwere called away by the despatch from the police-station, to say thatDonogan has been seen at Moate, and is about to hold a meeting on the bog. Of course, this is mere rumour; but the constabulary are determined tocapture him, and Curtis has written to inform my father that a party ofpolice will patrol the grounds here this evening. '

'And if they should take him, what would happen--to him, I mean?' askedNina coldly. 

'An escaped convict is usually condemned to death; but I suppose they wouldnot hang him, ' said Dick. 

'Hang him!' cried Atlee; 'nothing of the kind. Mr. Gladstone would presenthim with a suit of clothes, a ten-pound note, and a first-class passage toAmerica. He would make a "healing measure" of him. '

'I must say, gentlemen, ' said Nina scornfully, 'you can discuss yourfriend's fate with a marvellous equanimity. '

'So we do, ' rejoined Atlee. 'He is another Bohemian. '

'Don't say so, sir, ' said she passionately. 'The men who put their lives ona venture--and that venture not a mere gain to themselves--are in nowisethe associates of those poor adventurers who are gambling for their dailyliving. He is a rebel, if you like; but he believes in rebellion. How muchdo you believe in, Mr. Atlee?'

'I say, Joe, you are getting the worst of this discussion. Seriously, however, I hope they'll not catch poor Donogan; and my father has askedCurtis to come over and dine here, and I trust to a good fire and some oldclaret to keep him quiet for this evening, at least. We must not molest thepolice; but there's no great harm done if we mislead them. '

'Once in the drawing-room, if Mademoiselle Kostalergi will only condescendto aid us, ' added Atlee, 'I think Curtis will be more than a chiefconstable if he will bethink him of his duty. '

'You are a strange set of people, you Irish, ' said Nina, as she walkedaway. 'Even such of you as don't want to overthrow the Government arealways ready to impede its march and contribute to its difficulties. '

'She only meant that for an impertinence, ' said Atlee, after she leftthe room; 'but she was wonderfully near the truth, though not truthfullyexpressed. '

CHAPTER LXXXIII

THE GARDEN BY MOONLIGHT

There was but one heavy heart at the dinner-table that day; but Nina'spride was proof against any disclosure of suffering, and though she wastortured by anxiety and fevered with doubt, none--not even Kate--suspectedthat any care weighed on her. 

As for Kate herself, her happiness beamed in every line and lineamentof her handsome face. The captain--to give him the name by which he wasknown--had been up that day, and partaken of an afternoon tea with his auntand Kate. Her spirits were excellent, and all the promise of the future wasrose-coloured and bright. The little cloud of what trouble the trial mightbring was not suffered to darken the cheerful meeting, and it was the oneonly bitter in their cup. 

To divert Curtis from this theme, on which, with the accustomed _mal àpropos_ of an awkward man, he wished to talk, the young men led him to thesubject of Donogan and his party. 

'I believe we'll take him this time, ' said Curtis. 'He must have some closerelations with some one about Moate or Kilbeggan, for it is remarked hecannot keep away from the neighbourhood; but who are his friends, or whatthey are meditating, we cannot guess. '

'If what Mademoiselle Kostalergi said this morning be correct, ' remarkedAtlee, 'conjecture is unnecessary. She told Dick and myself that everyIrishman is at heart a rebel. '

'I said more or less of one, Mr. Atlee, since there are some who have notthe courage of their opinions. '

'I hope you are gratified by the emendation, ' whispered Dick; and thenadded aloud, 'Donogan is not one of these. '

'He's a consummate fool, ' cried Curtis bluntly. 'He thinks the attack ofa police-barrack or the capture of a few firelocks will revolutioniseIreland. '

'He forgets that there are twelve thousand police, officered by such men asyourself, captain, ' said Nina gravely. 

'Well, there might be worse, ' rejoined Curtis doggedly, for he was notquite sure of the sincerity of the speaker. 

'What will you be the better of taking him?' said Kilgobbin. 'If the wholetree be pernicious, where's the use of plucking one leaf off it?'

'The captain has nothing to do with that, ' said Atlee, 'any more thana hound has to discuss the morality of foxhunting--his business is thepursuit. '

'I don't like your simile, Mr. Atlee, ' said Nina, while she whispered somewords to the captain, and drew him in this way into a confidential talk. 

'I don't mind him at all, Miss Nina, ' said Curtis; 'he's one of thosefellows on the press, and they are always saying impertinent things to keeptheir talents in wind. I'll tell you, in confidence, how wrong he is. Ihave just had a meeting with the Chief Secretary, who told me that thepopish bishops are not at all pleased with the leniency of the Government;that whatever "healing measures" Mr. Gladstone contemplates, ought to befor the Church and the Catholics; that the Fenians or the Nationalistsare the enemies of the Holy Father; and that the time has come for theGovernment to hunt them down, and give over the rule of Ireland to theCardinal and his party. '

'That seems to me very reasonable, and very logical, ' said Nina. 

'Well, it is and it is not. If you want peace in the rabbit-warren, youmust banish either the rats or the rabbits; and I suppose either theProtestants or the Papists must have it their own way here. '

'Then you mean to capture this man?'

'We do--we are determined on that. And, what's more, I'd hang him if I hadthe power. '

'And why?'

'Just because he isn't a bad fellow! There's no use in hanging a bad fellowin Ireland--it frightens nobody; but if you hang a respectable man, a manthat has done generous and fine things, it produces a great effect onsociety, and is a terrible example. '

'There may be a deep wisdom in what you say. '

'Not that they'll mind me for all that. It's the men like myself, MissNina, who know Ireland well, who know every assize town in the country, andwhat the juries will do in each, are never consulted in England. They say, "Let Curtis catch him--that's his business. "'

'And how will you do it?'

'I'll tell you. I haven't men enough to watch all the roads; but I'll takecare to have my people where he's least likely to go, that is, to thenorth. He's a cunning fellow is Dan, and he'd make for the Shannon if hecould; but now that he knows we 're after him, he'll turn to Antrim orDerry. He'll cut across Westmeath, and make north, if he gets away fromthis. '

'That is a very acute calculation of yours; and where do you suspect he maybe now--I mean, at this moment we're talking?'

'He's not three miles from where we're sitting, ' said he, in a low whisper, and a cautious glance round the table. 'He's hid in the bog outside. There's scores of places there a man could hide in, and never be tracked;and there's few fellows would like to meet Donogan single-handed. He's asactive as a rope-dancer, and he's as courageous as the devil. '

'It would be a pity to hang such a fellow. '

'There's plenty more of the same sort--not exactly as good as him, perhaps, for Dan was a gentleman once. '

'And is, probably, still?'

'It would be hard for him, with the rapscallions he has to live with, andnot five shillings in his pocket, besides. '

'I don't know, after all, if you'll be happier for giving him up to thelaw. He may have a mother, a sister, a wife, or a sweetheart. '

'He may have a sweetheart, but I know he has none of the others. He said, in the dock, that no man could quit life at less cost--that there wasn'tone to grieve after him. '

'Poor fellow! that was a sad confession. '

'We're not all to turn Fenians, Miss Nina, because we're only children andunmarried. '

'You are too clever for me to dispute with, ' said she, in affectedhumility; 'but I like greatly to hear you talk of Ireland. Now, what numberof people have you here?'

'I have my orderly, and two men to patrol the demesne; but to-morrow we'lldraw the net tighter. We'll call in all the party from Moate, and frominformation I have got, we're sure to track him. '

'What confidences is Curtis making with Mademoiselle Nina?' said Atlee, who, though affecting to join the general conversation, had never ceased towatch them. 

'The captain is telling me how he put down the Fenians in the rising of'61, ' said Nina calmly. 

'And did he? I say, Curtis, have you really suppressed rebellion inIreland?'

'No; nor won't, Mr. Joe Atlee, till we put down the rascally press--theunprincipled penny-a-liners, that write treason to pay for their dinner. '

'Poor fellows!' replied Atlee. 'Let us hope it does not interfere withtheir digestion. But seriously, mademoiselle, does it not give you a greatnotion of our insecurity here in Ireland when you see to what we trust, lawand order. 

'Never mind him, Curtis, ' said Kilgobbin. 'When these fellows are notsaying sharp things, they have to be silent. '

While the conversation went briskly on, Nina contrived to glance unnoticedat her watch, and saw that it wanted only a quarter of an hour to nine. Nine was the hour she had named to Donogan to be in the garden, and shealready trembled at the danger to which she had exposed him. She reasonedthus: so reckless and fearless is this man, that, if he should have comedetermined to see me, and I do not go to meet him, he is quite capable ofentering the house boldly, even at the cost of being captured. The veryprice he would have to pay for his rashness would be its temptation. '

A sudden cast of seriousness overcame her as she thus thought, and Kate, perceiving it, rose at once to retire. 

'You were not ill, dearest Nina? I saw you grow pale, and I fancied for amoment you seemed faint. '

'No; a mere passing weakness. I shall lie down and be better presently. '

'And then you'll come up to aunt's room--I call godmother aunt now--andtake tea with Gorman and us all. '

'Yes, I'll do that after a little rest. I'll take half an hour or so ofquiet, ' said she, in broken utterances. 'I suppose the gentlemen will sitover their wine; there's no fear of their breaking-up. '

'Very little _fear_, indeed, ' said Kate, laughing at the word. 'Papa mademe give out some of his rare old '41 wine to-day, and they're not likely toleave it. '

'Bye-bye, then, for a little while, ' said Nina dreamily, for her thoughtshad gone off on another track. 'I shall join you later on. '

Kate tripped gaily up the stairs, singing pleasantly as she went, for herswas a happy heart and a hopeful. 

Nina lingered for a moment with her hand on the banister, and then hurriedto her room. 

It was a still cold night of deep winter, a very faint crescent of a newmoon was low in the sky, and a thin snowfall, slightly crisped with frost, covered the ground. Nina opened her window and looked out. All was stilland quiet without--not a twig moved. She bent her ear to listen, thinkingthat on the frozen ground a step might perhaps be heard, and it was arelief to her anxiety when she heard nothing. The chill cold air that camein through the window warned her to muffle herself well, and she drew thehood of her scarlet cloak over her head. Strong-booted, and with warmgloves, she stood for a moment at her door to listen, and finding allquiet, she slowly descended the stairs and gained the hall. She startedaffrighted as she entered, thinking there was some one seated at the table, but she rallied in an instant, as she saw it was only the loose horseman'scoat or cloak of the chief constable, which, lined with red, and with thegold-laced cap beside it, made up the delusion that alarmed her. 

It was not an easy task to withdraw the heavy bolts and bars that securedthe massive door, and even to turn the heavy key in the lock required aneffort; but she succeeded at length, and issued forth into the open. 

'How I hope he has not come! how I pray he has not ventured!' said she toherself as she walked along. 'Leave-takings are sad things, and why incurone so full of peril and misery too? When I wrote to him, of course I knewnothing of his danger, and it is exactly his danger will make him come!'She knew of others to whom such reasonings would not have applied, and ascornful shake of the head showed that she would not think of them at sucha moment. The sound of her own footsteps on the crisp ground made her onceor twice believe she heard some one coming, and as she stopped to listen, the strong beating of her heart could be counted. It was not fear--at leastnot fear in the sense of a personal danger--it was that high tension whichgreat anxiety lends to the nerves, exalting vitality to a state in which asensation is as powerful as a material influence. 

She ascended the steps of the little terraced mound of the rendezvous oneby one, overwhelmed almost to fainting by some imagined analogy with thescaffold, which might be the fate of him she was going to meet. 

He was standing under a tree, his arms crossed on his breast, as she cameup. The moment she appeared, he rushed to meet her, and throwing himself onone knee, he seized her hand and kissed it. 

'Do you know your danger in being here?' she asked, as she surrendered herhand to his grasp. 

'I know it all, and this moment repays it tenfold. '

'You cannot know the full extent of the peril; you cannot know that CaptainCurtis and his people are in the castle at this moment, that they are infull cry after you, and that every avenue to this spot is watched andguarded. '

'What care I! Have I not this?' And he covered her hand with kisses. 

'Every moment that you are here increases your danger, and if my absenceshould become known, there will be a search after me. I shall never forgivemyself if my folly should lead to your being captured. '

'If I could but feel my fate was linked with yours, I'd give my life for itwillingly. '

'It was not to listen to such words as these I came here. '

'Remember, dearest, they are the last confessions of one you shall neversee more. They are the last cry of a heart that will soon be still forever. '

'No, no, no!' cried she passionately. 'There is life enough left for you towin a worthy name. Listen to me calmly now: I have heard from Curtis withinthe last hour all his plans for your capture; I know where his patrols arestationed, and the roads they are to watch. '

'And did you care to do this?' said he tenderly. 

'I would do more than that to save you. '

'Oh, do not say so!' cried he wildly, 'or you will give me such a desire tolive as will make a coward of me. '

'Curtis suspects you will go northward; either he has had information, orcomputes it from what you have done already. '

'He is wrong, then. When I go hence, it shall be to the court-house atTullamore, where I mean to give myself up. '

'As what?'

'As what I am--a rebel, convicted, sentenced, and escaped, and still arebel. '

'You do not, then, care for life?'

'Do I not, for such moments of life as this!' cried he, as, with a wildrapture, he kissed her hand again and again. 

'And were I to ask you, you would not try to save your life?'

'To share that life with you there is not anything I would not dare. Tolive and know you were another's is more than I can face. Tell me, Nina, isit true you are to be the wife of this soldier? I cannot utter his name. '

'I am to be married to Mr. Walpole. '

'What! to that contemptuous young man you have already told me so much of. How have they brought you down to this?'

'There is no thought of bringing down; his rank and place are above myown--he is by family and connection superior to us all. '

'And what is he, or how does he aspire to you? Is the vulgar securityof competence to live on--is that enough for one like you? is thewell-balanced good-breeding of common politeness enough to fill a heartthat should be fed on passionate devotion? You may link yourself tomediocrity, but can you humble your nature to resemble it. Do you believeyou can plod on the dreary road of life without an impulse or an ambition, or blend your thoughts with those of a man who has neither?'

She stood still and did not utter a word. 

'There are some--I do not know if you are one of them--who have an almostshrinking dread of poverty. '

'I am not afraid of poverty. '

'It has but one antidote, I know--intense love! The all-powerful sense ofliving for another begets indifference to the little straits and trials ofnarrow fortune, till the mind at last comes to feel how much there is tolive for beyond the indulgence of vulgar enjoyments; and if, to crown all, a high ambition be present, there will be an ecstasy of bliss no words canmeasure. '

'Have you failed in Ireland?' asked she suddenly. 

'Failed, so far as to know that a rebellion will only ratify the subjectionof the country to England; a reconquest would be slavery. The chronicdiscontent that burns in every peasant heart will do more than the appealto arms. It is slow, but it is certain. '

'And where is your part?'

'My part is in another land; my fortune is linked with America--that is, ifI care to have a fortune. '

'Come, come, Donogan, ' cried she, calling him inadvertently by his name, 'men like you do not give up the battle of life so easily. It is the veryessence of their natures to resist pressure and defy defeat. '

'So I could; so I am ready to show myself. Give me but hope. There are highpaths to be trodden in more than one region of the globe. There are greatprizes to be wrestled for, but it must be by him who would share them withanother. Tell me, Nina, ' said he suddenly, lowering his voice to a toneof exquisite tenderness, 'have you never, as a little child, played atthat game of what is called seeking your fortune, wandered out into somethick wood or along a winding rivulet, to meet whatever little incidentimagination might dignify into adventure; and in the chance heroism of yoursituation have you not found an intense delight? And if so in childhood, why not see if adult years cannot renew the experience? Why not see if thegreat world be not as dramatic as the small one? I should say it is stillmore so. I know you have courage. '

'And what will courage do for me?' asked she, after a pause. 

'For you, not much; for me, everything. '

'I do not understand you. '

'I mean this--that if that stout heart could dare the venture and trust itsfate to me--to me, poor, outlawed, and doomed--there would be a granderheroism in a girl's nature than ever found home in a man's. '

'And what should I be?'

'My wife within an hour; my idol while I live. '

'There are some who would give this another name than courage, ' said shethoughtfully. 

'Let them call it what they will, Nina. Is it not to the unbounded trust ofa nature that is above all others that I, poor, unknown, ignoble as Iam, appeal when I ask, Will you be mine? One word--only one--or, betterstill--'

He clasped her in his arms as he spoke, and drawing her head towards his, kissed her cheek rapturously. 

With wild and fervent words, he now told her rapidly that he had comeprepared to make her the declaration, and had provided everything, in theevent of her compliance, for their flight. By an unused path through thebog they could gain the main road to Maryborough, where a priest, wellknown in the Fenian interest, would join them in marriage. The officialsof the railroad were largely imbued with the Nationalist sentiment, andDonogan could be sure of safe crossing to Kilkenny, where the members ofthe party were in great force. 

In a very few words he told her how, by the mere utterance of his name, hecould secure the faithful services and the devotion of the people in everytown or village of the kingdom. 'The English have done this for us, ' criedhe, 'and we thank them for it. They have popularised rebellion in a waythat all our attempts could never have accomplished. How could I, forinstance, gain access to those little gatherings at fair or market, in theyard before the chapel, or the square before the court-house--how couldI be able to explain to those groups of country-people what we mean by arising in Ireland? what we purpose by a revolt against England? how it isto be carried on, or for whose benefit? what the prizes of success, whatthe cost of failure? Yet the English have contrived to embody all these inone word, and that word _my_ name!'

There was a certain artifice, there is no doubt, in the way in which thispoorly-clad and not distinguished-looking man contrived to surround himselfwith attributes of power and influence; and his self-reliance imparted tohis voice as he spoke a tone of confidence that was actually dignified. Andbesides this, there was personal daring--for his life was on the hazard, and it was the very contingency of which he seemed to take the least heed. 

Not less adroit, too, was the way in which he showed what a shockand amazement her conduct would occasion in that world of heracquaintances--that world which had hitherto regarded her as essentially apleasure-seeker, self-indulgent and capricious. '"Which of us all, " willthey say, "could have done what that girl has done? Which of us, having theworld at her feet, her destiny at her very bidding, would go off and bravethe storms of life out of the heroism of her own nature? How we all misreadher nature! how wrongfully and unfairly we judged her! In what utterignorance of her real character was every interpretation we made! Howscornfully has she, by one act, replied to all our misconstruction of her!What a sarcasm on all our worldliness is her devotion!"'

He was eloquent, after a fashion, and he had, above most men, the charm ofa voice of singular sweetness and melody. It was clear as a bell, and hecould modulate its tones till, like the drip, drip of water on a rock, theyfell one by one upon the ear. Masses had often been moved by the power ofhis words, and the mesmeric influence of persuasiveness was a gift to dohim good service now. 

There was much in the man that she liked. She liked his rugged boldness anddetermination; she liked his contempt for danger and his self-reliance;and, essentially, she liked how totally different he was to all other men. He had not their objects, their hopes, their fears, and their ways. Toshare the destiny of such a man was to ensure a life that could not passunrecorded. There might be storm, and even shipwreck, but there wasnotoriety--perhaps even fame!

And how mean and vulgar did all the others she had known seem by comparisonwith him--how contemptible the polished insipidity of Walpole, howartificial the neatly-turned epigrams of Atlee. How would either of thesehave behaved in such a moment of danger as this man's? Every minute hepassed there was another peril to his life, and yet he had no thought forhimself--his whole anxiety was to gain time to appeal to her. He told hershe was more to him than his ambition--she saw herself she was more tohim than life. The whirlwind rapidity of his eloquence also moved her, and the varied arguments he addressed--now to her heroism, now to herself-sacrifice, now to the power of her beauty, now to the contempt shefelt for the inglorious lives of commonplace people--the ignoble herd whopassed unnoticed. All these swayed her; and after a long interval, in whichshe heard him without a word, she said, in a low murmur to herself, 'I willdo it. '

Donogan clasped her to his heart as she said it, and held her some secondsin a fast embrace. 'At last I know what it is to love, ' cried he, withrapture. 

'Look there!' cried she, suddenly disengaging herself from his arm. 'Theyare in the drawing-room already. I can see them as they pass the windows. Imust go back, if it be for a moment, as I should be missed. '

'Can I let you leave me now?' he said, and the tears were in his eyes as hespoke. 

'I have given you my word, and you may trust me, ' said she, as she held outher hand. 

'I was forgetting this document: this is the lease or the agreement I toldyou of. ' She took it, and hurried away. 

In less than five minutes afterwards she was among the company in thedrawing-room. 

'Here have I been singing a rebel ballad, Nina, ' said Kate, 'and notknowing the while it was Mr. Atlee who wrote it. '

'What, Mr. Atlee, ' cried Nina, 'is the "Time to begin" yours?' And then, without waiting for an answer, she seated herself at the piano, andstriking the chords of the accompaniment with a wild and vigorous hand, shesang--

 'If the moment is come and the hour to need us, If we stand man to man, like kindred and kin; If we know we have one who is ready to lead us, What want we for more than the word to begin?'

The wild ring of defiance in which her clear, full voice gave out thesewords, seemed to electrify all present, and to a second or two of perfectsilence a burst of applause followed, that even Curtis, with all hisloyalty, could not refrain from joining. 

'Thank God, you're not a man, Miss Nina!' cried he fervently. 

'I'm not sure she's not more dangerous as she is, ' said Lord Kilgobbin. 'There's people out there in the bog, starving and half-naked, would facethe Queen's Guards if they only heard her voice to cheer them on. Take myword for it, rebellion would have died out long ago in Ireland if therewasn't the woman's heart to warm it. '

'If it were not too great a liberty, Mademoiselle Kostalergi, ' said Joe, 'I should tell you that you have not caught the true expression of my song. The brilliant bravura in which you gave the last line, immensely excitingas it was, is not correct. The whole force consists in the concentratedpower of a fixed resolve--the passage should be subdued. '

An insolent toss of the head was all Nina's reply, and there was astillness in the room, as, exchanging looks with each other, the differentpersons there expressed their amazement at Atlee's daring. 

'Who's for a rubber of whist?' said Lord Kilgobbin, to relieve the awkwardpause. 'Are you, Curtis? Atlee, I know, is ready. '

'Here is all prepared, ' said Dick. 'Captain Curtis told me before dinnerthat he would not like to go to bed till he had his sergeant's report, andso I have ordered a broiled bone to be ready at one o'clock, and we'll situp as late as he likes after. '

'Make the stake pounds and fives, ' cried Joe, 'and I should pronounce yourarrangements perfection. '

'With this amendment, ' interposed my lord, 'that nobody is expected topay!'

'I say, Joe, ' whispered Dick, as they drew nigh the table, 'my cousin isangry with you; why have you not asked her to sing?'

'Because she expects it; because she's tossing over the music yonder toprovoke it; because she's in a furious rage with me: that will be ninepoints of the game in my favour, ' hissed he out between his teeth. 

'You are utterly wrong--you mistake her altogether. '

'Mistake a woman! Dick, will you tell me what I _do_ know, if I do not readevery turn and trick of their tortuous nature? They are occasionally hardto decipher when they're displeased. It's very big print indeed whenthey're angry. '

'You're off, are you?' asked Nina, as Kate was about to leave. 

'Yes; I'm going to read to him. '

'To read to him!' said Nina, laughing. 'How nice it sounds, when one sumsup all existence in a pronoun. Good-night, dearest--good-night, ' and shekissed her twice. And then, as Kate reached the door, she ran towards her, and said, 'Kiss me again, my dearest Kate!'

'I declare you have left a tear upon my cheek, ' said Kate. 

'It was about all I could give you as a wedding-present, ' muttered Nina, asshe turned away. 

'Are you come to study whist, Nina?' said Lord Kilgobbin, as she drew nighthe table. 

[Illustration: 'I declare you have left a tear upon my cheek, ' said Kate]

'No, my lord; I have no talent for games, but I like to look at theplayers. '

Joe touched Dick with his foot, and shot a cunning glance towards him, asthough to say, 'Was I not correct in all I said?'

'Couldn't you sing us something, my dear? we're not such infatuatedgamblers that we'll not like to hear you--eh, Atlee?'

'Well, my lord, I don't know, I'm not sure--that is, I don't see how amemory for trumps is to be maintained through the fascinating charm ofmademoiselle's voice. And as for cards, it's enough for Miss Kostalergi tobe in the room to make one forget not only the cards, but the Fenians. '

'If it was only out of loyalty, then, I should leave you!' said she, andwalked proudly away. 

CHAPTER LXXXIV

NEXT MORNING

The whist-party did not break up till nigh morning. The sergeant had onceappeared at the drawing-room to announce that all was quiet without. Therehad been no sign of any rising of the people, nor any disposition to molestthe police. Indeed, so peaceful did everything look, and such an air ofeasy indifference pervaded the country, the police were half disposedto believe that the report of Donogan being in the neighbourhood wasunfounded, and not impossibly circulated to draw off attention from someother part of the country. 

This was also Lord Kilgobbin's belief. 'The man has no friends, or evenwarm followers, down here. It was the merest accident first led him to thispart of the country, where, besides, we are all too poor to be rebels. It'sonly down in Meath, where the people are well off, and rents are not toohigh, that people can afford to be Fenians. '

While he was enunciating this fact to Curtis, they were walking up and downthe breakfast-room, waiting for the appearance of the ladies to make tea. 

'I declare it's nigh eleven o'clock, ' said Curtis, 'and I meant to havebeen over two baronies before this hour. '

'Don't distress yourself, captain. The man was never within fifty miles ofwhere we are. And why would he? It is not the Bog of Allen is the place fora revolution. '

'It's always the way with the people at the Castle, ' grumbled out Curtis. 'They know more of what's going on down the country than we that live here!It's one despatch after another. Head-centre Such-a-one is at the "ThreeCripples. " He slept there two nights; he swore in fifteen men lastSaturday, and they'll tell you where he bought a pair of corduroy breeches, and what he ate for his breakfast--'

'I wish we had ours, ' broke in Kilgobbin. 'Where's Kate all this time?'

'Papa, papa, I want you for a moment; come here to me quickly, ' criedKate, whose head appeared for a moment at the door. 'Here's very terribletidings, papa dearest, ' said she, as she drew him along towards his study. 'Nina is gone! Nina has run away!'

'Run away for what?'

'Run away to be married; and she is married. Read this, or I'll read it foryou. A country boy has just brought it from Maryborough. '

Like a man stunned almost to insensibility, Kearney crossed his handsbefore him, and sat gazing out vacantly before him. 

'Can you listen to me? can you attend to me, dear papa?'

'Go on, ' said he, in a faint voice. 

'It is written in a great hurry, and very hard to read. It runs thus:"Dearest, --I have no time for explainings nor excuses, if I were disposedto make either, and I will confine myself to a few facts. I was marriedthis morning to Donogan--the rebel: I know you have added the word, and Iwrite it to show how our sentiments are united. As people are prone to putinto the lottery the number they have dreamed of, I have taken my ticketin this greatest of all lotteries on the same wise grounds. I have beendreaming adventures ever since I was a little child, and it is but naturalthat I marry an adventurer. "'

A deep groan from the old man made her stop; but as she saw that he was notchanged in colour or feature, she went on--

'"He says he loves me very dearly, and that he will treat me well. I liketo believe both, and I do believe them. He says we shall be very poor forthe present, but that he means to become something or somebody later on. Ido not much care for the poverty, if there is hope; and he is a man to hopewith and to hope from. 

'"You are, in a measure, the cause of all, since it was to tell me he wouldsend away all the witnesses against your husband, that is to be, that Iagreed to meet him, and to give me the lease which Miss O'Shea was so rashas to place in Gill's hands. This I now send you. "'

'And this she has sent you, Kate?' asked Kilgobbin. 

'Yes, papa, it is here, and the master of the _Swallow's_ receipt for Gillas a passenger to Quebec. '

'Read on. '

'There is little more, papa, except what I am to say to you--to forgiveher. '

'I can't forgive her. It was deceit--cruel deceit. '

'It was not, papa. I could swear there was no forethought. If there hadbeen, she would have told me. She told me everything. She never lovedWalpole; she could not love him. She was marrying him with a broken heart. It was not that she loved another, but she knew she could have lovedanother. '

'Don't talk such muddle to _me_, ' said he angrily. 'You fancy life is tobe all courting, but it isn't. It's house-rent, and butchers' bills, andapothecaries, and the pipe water--it's shoes, and schooling, and arrearsof rent, and rheumatism, and flannel waistcoats, and toothache have aconsiderable space in Paradise!' And there was a grim comicality in hisutterance of the word. 

'She said no more than the truth of herself, ' broke in Kate. 'With all herqueenly ways, she could face poverty bravely--I know it. '

'So you can--any of you, if a man's making love to you. You care littleenough what you eat, and not much more what you wear, if he tells you itbecomes you; but that's not the poverty that grinds and crushes. It's whatcomes home in sickness; it's what meets you in insolent letters, in threatsof this or menaces of that. But what do you know about it, or why do Ispeak of it? She's married a man that could be hanged if the law caughthim, and for no other reason, that I see, than because he's a felon. '

'I don't think you are fair to her, papa. '

'Of course I'm not. Is it likely that at sixty I can be as great a fool asI was at sixteen?'

'So that means that you once thought in the same way that she does?'

'I didn't say any such thing, miss, ' said he angrily. 'Did you tell MissBetty what's happened us?'

'I just broke it to her, papa, and she made me run away and read the noteto you. Perhaps you'll come and speak to her?'

'I will, ' said he, rising and preparing to leave the room. 'I'd rather hearI was a bankrupt this morning than that news!' And he mounted the stairs, sighing heavily as he went. 

'Isn't this fine news the morning has brought us, Miss Betty!' cried he, ashe entered the room with a haggard look, and hands clasped before him. 'Didyou ever dream there was such disgrace in store for us?'

'This marriage, you mean, ' said the old lady dryly. 

'Of course I do--if you call it a marriage at all. '

'I do call it a marriage--here's Father Tierney's certificate, a copy madein his own handwriting: "Daniel Donogan, M. P. , of Killamoyle and Innismul, County Kilkenny, to Virginia Kostalergi, of no place in particular, daughter of Prince Kostalergi, of the same localities, contracted in holymatrimony this morning at six o'clock, and witnessed likewise by MorrisMcCabe, vestry clerk--Mary Kestinogue, her mark. " Do you want more thanthat?'

'Do I want more? Do I want a respectable wedding? Do I want a decent man--agentleman--a man fit to maintain her? Is this the way she ought to havebehaved? Is this what we thought of her?'

'It is not, Mat Kearney--you say truth. I never believed so well of hertill now. I never believed before that she had anything in her head but tocatch one of those English puppies, with their soft voices and their sneersabout Ireland. I never saw her that she wasn't trying to flatter them, andto please them, and to sing them down, as she called it herself--the veryname fit for it! And that she had the high heart to take a man not onlypoor, but with a rope round his neck, shows me how I wronged her. I couldgive her five thousand this morning to make her a dowry, and to prove how Ihonour her. '

'Can any one tell who he is? What do we know of him?'

'All Ireland knows of him; and, after all, Mat Kearney, she has only donewhat her mother did before her. '

'Poor Matty!' said Kearney, as he drew his hand across his eyes. 

'Ay, ay! Poor Matty, if you like; but Matty was a beauty run to seed, and, like the rest of them, she married the first good-looking vagabond she saw. Now, this girl was in the very height and bloom of her beauty, and she tooka fellow for other qualities than his whiskers or his legs. They tell me heisn't even well-looking--so that I have hopes of her. '

'Well, well, ' said Kearney, 'he has done you a good turn, anyhow--he hasgot Peter Gill out of the country. '

'And it's the one thing that I can't forgive him, Mat, just the one thingthat's fretting me now. I was living in hopes to see that scoundrel Peteron the table, and Counsellor Holmes baiting him in a cross-examination. Iwanted to see how the lawyer wouldn't leave him a rag of character or astrip of truth to cover himself with. How he'd tear off his evasions, andconfront him with his own lies, till he wouldn't know what he was saying orwhere he was sitting! I wanted to hear the description he would give of himto the jury; and I'd go home to my dinner after that, and not wait for theverdict. '

'All the same, I'm glad we're rid of Peter. '

'Of course you are. You're a man, and well pleased when your enemy runsaway; but if you were a woman, Mat Kearney, you'd rather he'd stand outboldly and meet you, and fight his battle to the end. But they haven't donewith me yet. I'll put that little blackguard attorney, that said my letterwas a lease, into Chancery; and it will go hard with me if I don't have himstruck off the rolls. There's a small legacy of five hundred pounds left methe other day, and, with the blessing of Providence, the Common Pleas shallhave it. Don't shake your head, Mat Kearney. I'm not robbing any one. Yourdaughter will have enough and to spare--'

'Oh, godmother, ' cried Kate imploringly. 

'It wasn't I, my darling, that said the five hundred would be better spenton wedding-clothes or house-linen. That delicate and refined suggestion wasyour father's. It was his lordship made the remark. '

It was a fortunate accident at that conjuncture that a servant shouldannounce the arrival of Mr. Flood, the Tory J. P. , who, hearing of Donogan'sescape, had driven over to confer with his brother magistrate. LordKilgobbin was not sorry to quit the field, where he'd certainly earned fewlaurels, and hastened down to meet his colleague. 

CHAPTER LXXXV

THE END

While the two justices and Curtis discussed the unhappy condition ofIreland, and deplored the fact that the law-breaker never appealed in vainto the sympathies of a people whose instincts were adverse to discipline, Flood's estimate of Donogan went very far to reconcile Kilgobbin to Nina'smarriage. 

'Out of Ireland, you'll see that man has stuff in him to rise to eminenceand station. All the qualities of which home manufacture would only makea rebel will combine to form a man of infinite resource and energy inAmerica. Have you never imagined, Mr. Kearney, that if a man were to employthe muscular energy to make his way through a drawing-room that he woulduse to force his passage through a mob, the effort would be misplaced, andthe man himself a nuisance? Our old institutions, with all their faults, have certain ordinary characteristics that answer to good-breeding andgood manners--reverence for authority, respect for the gradations of rank, dislike to civil convulsion, and such like. We do not sit tamely by whenall these are threatened with overthrow; but there are countries wherethere are fewer of these traditions, and men like Donogan find their placethere. '

While they debated such points as these within-doors, Dick Kearney andAtlee sat on the steps of the hall door and smoked their cigars. 

'I must say, Joe, ' said Dick, 'that your accustomed acuteness cuts but avery poor figure in the present case. It was no later than last night youtold me that Nina was madly in love with you. Do you remember, as we wentupstairs to bed, what you said on the landing? "That girl is my own. I maymarry her to-morrow, or this day three months. "'

'And I was right. '

'So right were you that she is at this moment the wife of another. '

'And cannot you see why?'

'I suppose I can: she preferred him to you, and I scarcely blame her. '

'No such thing; there was no thought of preference in the matter. Ifyou were not one of those fellows who mistake an illustration, and seeeverything in a figure but the parallel, I should say that I had trainedtoo finely. Now had she been thoroughbred, I was all right; as a cocktail, I was all wrong. '

'I own I cannot follow you. '

'Well, the woman was angry, and she married that fellow out of pique. '

'Out of pique?'

'I repeat it. It was a pure case of temper. I would not ask her to sing. Ieven found fault with the way she gave the rebel ballad. I told her therewas an old lady--Americanly speaking--at the corner of College Green, whoenunciated the words better, and then I sat down to whist, and would noteven vouchsafe a glance in return for those looks of alternate rage orlanguishment she threw across the table. She was frantic. I saw it. Therewas nothing she wouldn't have done. I vow she'd have married even _you_at that moment. And with all that, she'd not have done it if she'd been"clean-bred. " Come, come, don't flare up, and look as if you'd strike me. On the mother's side she was a Kearney, and all the blood of loyalty in herveins; but there must have been something wrong with the Prince of Delos. Dido was very angry, but her breeding saved her; _she_ didn't take ahead-centre because she quarrelled with Æneas. '

'You are, without exception, the most conceited--'

'No, not ass--don't say ass, for I'm nothing of the kind. Conceited, if youlike, or rather if your natural politeness insists on saying it, and cannotdistinguish between the vanity of a puppy and the self-consciousnessof real power; but come, tell me of something pleasanter than all thispersonal discussion--how did mademoiselle convey her tidings? have you seenher note? was it "transport"? was it high-pitched, or apologetic?'

'Kate read it to me, and I thought it reasonable enough. She had done adaring thing, and she knew it; she hoped the best, and in any case she wasnot faint-hearted. '

'Any mention of me?'

'Not a word--your name does not occur. '

'I thought not; she had not pluck for that. Poor girl, the blow is heavierthan I meant it. '

'She speaks of Walpole; she incloses a few lines to him, and tells mysister where she will find a small packet of trinkets and such like he hadgiven her. '

'Natural enough all that. There was no earthly reason why she shouldn't beable to talk of Walpole as easily as of Colenso or the cattle plague; butyou see she could not trust herself to approach _my_ name. '

'You'll provoke me to kick you, Atlee. '

'In that case I shall sit where I am. But I was going to remark that as Ishall start for town by the next train, and intend to meet Walpole, if yoursister desires it, I shall have much pleasure in taking charge of that noteto his address. '

'All right, I'll tell her. I see that she and Miss Betty are about to driveover to O'Shea's Barn, and I'll give your message at once. '

While Dick hastened away on his errand, Joe Atlee sat alone, musingand thoughtful. I have no reason to presume my reader cares for hisreflections, nor to know the meaning of a strange smile, half scornful andhalf sad, that played upon his face. At last he rose slowly, and stoodlooking up at the grim old castle, and its quaint blending of ancientstrength and modern deformity. 'Life here, I take it, will go on prettymuch as before. All the acts of this drama will resemble each other, but myown little melodrama must open soon. I wonder what sort of house there willbe for Joe Atlee's benefit. '

Atlee was right. Kilgobbin Castle fell back to the ways in which ourfirst chapter found it, and other interests--especially those of Kate'sapproaching marriage--soon effaced the memory of Nina's flight and runawaymatch. By that happy law by which the waves of events follow and obliterateeach other, the present glided back into the past, and the past faded tillits colours grew uncertain. 

On the second evening after Nina's departure, Atlee stood on the pier ofKingstown as the packet drew up at the jetty. Walpole saw him, and wavedhis hand in friendly greeting. 'What news from Kilgobbin?' cried he, as helanded. 

'Nothing very rose-coloured, ' said Atlee, as he handed the note. 

'Is this true?' said Walpole, as a slight tremor shook his voice. 

'All true. '

'Isn't it Irish?--Irish the whole of it. '

'So they said down there, and, stranger than all, they seemed rather proudof it. '

THE END