CHAPTER VI.
GLAS-AITCH-E.
The nautico-arcadian life of Glas-aitch-e restored Doreen's mentalequilibrium by degrees, which had been sorely shaken by recentproceedings in Dublin. There she had come to ask herself whether therecould be indeed a God with eyes to see and ears to hear, or whetherthe new-fangled creed was the correct one, which spoke of a mysteriousprinciple--a species of magnet--in accordance with whose influence, asa dumb machine, the affairs of the world marched in establishedsequence. But in the front of this superb nature it was impossible tohold any such cold-blooded theory. When on waking she opened hercasement to drink the brine-laden air, her youthful vigour got thebetter of her sorrows. She marked, stretching on the one hand as fareas ken could reach, the wondrous _silhouette_ of mountains, risingtier behind tier in its series of morning changes from jetty black topurple and then orange; or, not so far away, the chameleon cliffswhose varieties of effect were endless. She watched the seals tumblingin flocks; the guillemots and gannets at play, and shrieking petrels,Cassandras of the deep; and the eagles that had their eyrie in thedizzy crags of Malin-Head, disdaining low companionship. Then peeringdown from her window-sill, straight as a plummet-line, into thatwondrously pellucid ripple, she mused of the legends of the placeconcerning the McSweenys--kings of those parts; known as the McSwynesof the unconquered axe, till Sir Amorey set his foot upon their necks;of how the rude chieftains had built themselves this fortalice,defended by three rows of concentric battlements, and had held it inthe teeth of Corsair-fleets till the awful day of retribution for longthieving, when Sir Amorey Crosbie came--himself the greatest thief; ofhow, by stratagem, he lured the defendants out upon the narrow stripof sand which the waves leave bare at ebb, then scaled the rocks uponthe other side with all his merry men, and watched with laughter whilethe garrison perished in the rising waters; of how their bracelets andornaments and collars of gold were washed up from time to time toattest the truth of the story; of how the elfin-guard were sleepingeven now within circumjacent caves, to clatter forth in force whenwanted. If that were true, sure they would have come out long since,seeing what their motherland had suffered. Yet, after all, not so: forthis wild region had naught to do with the throes which had rackedErin's frame for seven centuries. It was cut off, severed as by aspell from the world's troubles and its tragedies.
Doreen felt this strongly when she went among the people on themainland. Not one of them could speak anything but Gaelic--theirmental ken saw nothing beyond the arrival of the salmon, or the numberof distressful rents in a new fishing-net. They talked with awe of thesleeping bodyguard; had pricks of conscience when they slew theirmaiden-aunts; looked with compassion on Miss Wolfe when she enteredupon mundane arguments. Vainly she strove to persuade them that thetreasures which the waves threw up were relics of the SpanishArmada--a portion of which was shattered in these ironbound creeks andgullies. They preferred to believe in the McSwynes, and did; yet forall that they came to adore Doreen, who was of their own faith; whonever shot her coracle upon the beach but she was sure to besurrounded forthwith by a bevy of dancing, screaming imps thatsprawled upon the sand, that sidled up to have their heads patted likelittle tame nut-brown birds; then fluttered off to herald out the factthat the good lady had arrived ashore. The people loved her, and sheloved the people. The Irish heart is so warm, that a very littlekindness will win it--for that very reason, perhaps, their Englishfoes have chosen to repulse the gift, as one of too easy attainment tobe worth the winning!
Once or twice she was persuaded by her cunning aunt to accompany Shanealong the northern coast in the yacht. He was making a prodigious fussabout the Martello towers, and it would amuse her to explore the baysand inlets. Once--only once--she sailed down Lough Swilly, when hercousin went thither to examine the forts of Knockalla and Inch; andwas royally entertained at the barracks of Letterkenny, by the amateursoldiers quartered there. It was like returning into Hades after aglimpse of the stars. The sheepish looks and bungling compliments ofthe squireens could not hide from her that this was the fabric fromwhich the yeomanry were cut who hanged the people and burnt theircottages.
At Letterkenny the world began again--the wicked, cruel world.Inwardly she prayed that at least the harmless folks of Ennishowenmight be spared, though all the isle beside should have to pass underthe yoke. But the sight of these ruffians in uniform made her quailfor them. Since Fate debarred her from the right of joining her peoplein their suffering, she would close her ears to their cries if shecould, and return into the world no more.
The gentry about Derry and Antrim were divided upon all subjectsexcept ruffianism. On this point they were in surprising concord. Theywere for the most part Presbyterians. The republican nature of theirtenets disposed them to join the United Irishmen, and many enteredheartily into the conspiracy, until Government agents demonstratedthat the triumph of the popular party would bring with it Catholicemancipation.
Now the Ulster men of the middle and upper class were Orange as wellas Presbyterian. They looked upon a Catholic as a toad--an uncleanthing which had no business to be created--which must be hurried outof life without delay, as a lesson to their Maker to make suchmistakes no more.
Therefore, upon this fact being made quite plain to them, theirpatriotic ardour cooled amazingly, and they bade fair to rival theexcesses of their brethren down south.
At this very dinner a tipsy young 'half-mounted' told as a fine joke atale of what had happened at Armagh when he went there 't'other day tobuy a horse. A certain rapscallion,' he said, 'was suspected of havingsome gunpowder concealed, contrary to the mandate of his Majesty.Shots had been heard in the neighbourhood of his cabin--that wasenough. He denied the charge, and so must be made to confess. How wasit done? Mighty ingeniously, i' faith! He was hung up by the heelswith a rope full of twist, by which means he whirled round mostlaughably, like a bird before the fire; while the soldiers lashed himwith their belts to make him speak. But his stupid old father spoiledthe joke; for upon his son calling on him for help he up with aturf-spade and broke a soldier's pate open; upon which, of course, theold fool had to be disembowelled.' The other sparks laughed with greathe-haws at; this funny anecdote, till one of them, looking at MissWolfe, thought 'maybe the leedy didn't loike it.' And Shane, surprisedthat his stiff cousin should be such a milksop, changed the subject tothe building of his towers. The stone being handy, they would take butlittle time, he said. So soon as his task was complete he would senddown the yacht for these agreeable young sons of Mars, and entertainthem at his quaint old castle.
'It was indeed moighty koind in his lordship, to be sure; anythingthey could do to obleege,' etc., etc. So there was a great shaking ofhands and display of newly-acquired military salutes, and everybodywas charmed with everybody, except Doreen, who voted them bears andbrutes, whilst they thought her stuck-up.
After this episode, nothing could induce her to revisit Letterkenny.She spent her time in daydreams, drifting about in her coracle forhours, to return dripping wet, but, in a hazy way, more than halfcontent. There is never much snow in Ennishowen, because brine isinimical to snow; but in winter there is much rain and mist and densesea-fog, which penetrates to the bones and chills them. When therevolving cycle brought fine weather, she liked to establish herselfby her window, to watch the strange glory of the dawn, sitting, as shesmilingly observed, in her 'Grianan,' or sun-chamber. And what aspectacle it was to lull a vexed spirit into peace! First, as lightcrept near, she was aware of nothing but a vast sheet of pearl--above,below, around--without line to mark where earth or sea joined heaven.Her enchanted prison seemed the centre of an orient jewel, throughwhich the light of heaven filtered dimly. She occupied a magician'scastle, suspended by mystic agency in a translucent ether of opal hue.The illusion was complete, for presently tiny cloudlets of rose andgrey flecked the space above, to be repeated in dappled reflections onthe still mirror below, which as yet knew no rim. Cloudlets overhead;cloudlets far down,
under the hanging castle. Then, by imperceptibledegrees, the opal flushed to brass with spots of tarnish (whereseaweed banks shone through). Then a ridge of palest pink loomed intoshape from nothingness, warming slowly to blood-red, and darkening toTyrian purple--and the misty film was rent and crumbled, and lo! therewas the rim to the still mirror--the glorious rim of that noblemountain-chain, now turned to a sharply-defined deep-blue--in unisonwith sky and water.
Doreen was comforted for the day when nature chose thus to open thecasket for her; and rowed, or fished over the garden parapet, and was,by reason of her new peacefulness, more soft than heretofore with heraunt; and even strove sometimes to make herself agreeable to Shane. Mylady marked the improvement as a good omen of success, but was notquite satisfied; for there was mixed with the damsel's good behavioura cool indifference which suggested a carelessness of what should nextbefall.
When Shane was cross (alas! he grew crosser as he grew bored),Doreen's face never lost its calm. If it had, her aunt would have feltmore easy, for it would have shown that the young lady noticed hercousin's moods. But no; she was kindly and polite--was not evenshocked, as his mother was, when my lord made a boon-companion of theskipper of his yacht, hobbing and nobbing till both master and manwere magnificently drunk. My lady was really displeased at this, forit wounded her pride that the head of the house should condescend tosuch companionship. Squireens from Letterkenny would have been better;but then they might have made love to the young lady, and my lady hadsettled in her mind that nobody must do that but Shane.
Poor mother! How earnestly she schemed, and how little came of herscheming! With what angelic self-denial she endured the ghostlywhisperings of the chairs and tables, which would keep babbling ofthat past, however much she stopped her ears. Shane made no effort towoo his cousin. On the contrary, her superior manners and serene airsprovoked him, by causing him to feel how inferior he himself was toher. Norah never made him feel this, for she did dreadfully vulgarthings sometimes, for which he liked her as he chid her--thingswhich would have made his mother's white hair stand straight up onend--tricks which the colleen had learnt from her good-naturedplebeian mamma. Now he never would have dared to chide Miss Wolfe; foreven in her wildest escapades--when conversing with mysterious youngmen at night, or galloping helter-skelter over the country--shecarried matters with so high a hand that even my lady herself wasrouted. Indeed Shane, though far enough off, was nearer to love thanshe was, for he felt something akin to a good wholesome hatred of hiscousin, whilst she was only indifferent to him.
The fact was, that Shane, not being fond of booklore, became sullenand fiercely sulky, as week followed week and he found himself aprisoner with no prospect of release. He had a suspicion that he hadbeen trapped. Yet, while he revolted at the thought of it, his naturewas too weak to permit of his shaking himself free without, at least,somebody's friendly countenance.
Now and then he ventured to suggest that there really was no reasonwhy they should not return to Strogue. The French fiasco had put anend to danger from the Continent, as well as to the pretensions of theUnited Irishmen. What was his mother's opinion? Surely she must betired of being cooped up, much as she seemed to love the place--(loveit! poor lady!)--for she never went on shore among the benightedCatholics, being content, as a change, to make a solemn progress onthe lough on calm days, rowed by ten sturdy rowers. Should her sonorder the yacht to take in bag and baggage? Should he send a messengeron horseback, to announce their proximate arrival in Dublin?
To all of these insidious proposals my lady merely opposed a quietnegative, producing budgets from her pocket--voluminous letters fromLord Clare--upon the events which were passing in the capital.
According to him, affairs grew worse and worse, instead of better. Theperverseness of his countrymen was appalling to an enlightened mind.There was no knowing what might happen. His dear old friend's secondson was behaving ill. Happily, the loyal behaviour of the elder onewould be counted as righteousness to the family, by a forgiving andbenignant Government.
'It was evident from this,' she declared, with a decision there was nogainsaying, 'that Shane must do as he was doing. Terence might chooseto disgrace himself; so Shane's conduct must be all the moreimmaculate.' (My lady's voice did not falter as she discussed thisdelicate matter. Doreen merely frowned and turned away.) 'It was theduty of Shane, for the sake of the honour of the Glandores, to keepstaunch to the side of Government--the side of law and order--and thebest way of doing that was by stopping where he was.'
Shane groaned in spirit, but submitted, and cursed the patriots by allhis gods--empty-headed, crack-brained fools--who thus stood betwixthim and pleasure. He pined for Norah, for Cherokee suppers, Blasterorgies. Why, he was almost forgetting what a duel was like! His rapierwas rusting on the wall. He became crabbed in his enforced idleness;pinched viciously the satin skins of his pet dogs, instead of strokingthem; took more and more to claret; was constantly making trips toLetterkenny.
With the exception of Lord Clare's occasional budgets, the partyreceived little news, save garbled accounts from Letterkenny barracks.My lady insisted upon reading her own letters aloud, for the benefitof her niece; but that young person heeded not the chancellor'sprosing, being serenely occupied in following the gyrations of aseamew, or the eccentric movements of a fishing cormorant, so thatoft-reiterated abuse of her friends troubled her temper in nowise; andher aunt marvelled how it could be that the froward girl should havebecome proper and submissive, like well-behaved young ladies.
Is it not singular how to some people we unaccountably and invariablyare impelled to show only the ugly or seamy side, which forms part ofall our characters, and how to others we, without special effort,always turn the best? My lady and Doreen, though they dwelt together,never really knew each other. At times Doreen considered my lady mad;always harsh and disagreeable; while it was never given to my lady todetect the unselfish devotion and the strong worship of all that isbeautiful and free, and the overpowering horror of all that is unjustand base, which was the better phase of her niece's character.
As for the newspapers, nothing could be gleaned from them. So soon asa paper became popular, it was acquired by money or threats (with theexception of Tom Emmett's, which ran its rigs unchecked), andpatriotism gave way to padding. There was little Irish intelligence.The Dublin prints might as well have been edited at Sierra Leone; andDoreen turned with impatience from their dulness. She received fewletters herself, for there was no one to write to her except theproscribed, and, of course, it would not do for treasonablecorrespondence to pass through the hands of Lord Glandore, who amusedhimself by sailing to Rathmelton for the bag. There was no convenientshebeen here, where notes might cunningly be dropped; no useful Biddyor Jug Coyle--not even a handy cabin; for, whilst the peasantry roundDublin were one and all ready to do anything for the cause, those ofEnnishowen cared not about it. And she was not sorry for this. Withthe French fiasco her hopes had melted--she knew too well thediscordant elements which composed the Irish Directory. All that hadkept its members together had been the expectation of Frenchassistance--now that that was over they would fall asunder, andCinderella would sit down again amongst the ashes. And was it notindeed better so? The wrath of God was kindled, for some reason whichshe knew not, against unhappy motherland. Was it not better, then,that her sons should accept their bondage with meekness rather thanwaste their blood uselessly? Doreen's contentment sprang in the firstinstance from the nipping of despair. A moment comes to us in our soretrouble, when we fold our arms and murmur, 'By God's mercy there is alimit to the sense of feeling. We have reached that limit, and willfeel no more;' and, strange as it may seem, with that resolve comes animpression of calm, which, in its way, is a sort of negativehappiness. We have lost something, we are bereft of something whichabove all things we valued, yet we seem vaguely better for the loss.It is like the expression of peace which all blind faces wear, thoughtheir most precious treasure has been stolen--the sense of sight.
Doreen shrank
from probing her own feelings with regard to Terence.Certainly his conduct distressed her more than seemed warranted bycircumstances. She did not love him. No, not so bad as that, happily.She liked him as a fond sister might like a brother many years herjunior, with a good-humoured satisfaction when he did well--forinstance, when he made a splendid leap out hunting, or a particularlyfelicitous shot with his gun; and a feeling of pained displeasure whenhe did ill. And she told herself that he had behaved very ill, so illthat the fact of his existence must be erased from the tablets of hermemory. That he should prove to be so double-dyed a traitor, sodespicable and dastardly a schemer, filled her soul with horror.
Being a hero-worshipper, she had always despised him in a kindlysuperior way, for he was sleek and contented and commonplace, blessedwith a good digestion; had looked on his grovelling contentment withpity, and is not pity contempt clothed in tenderness? To have been sointeresting Manfred must have had a terrible digestion; while as forthe Corsair, I know that in private he suffered from dyspepsia. Whilsttaking it for granted that Terence was too easy-going ever to becometruly heroic, his cousin had warmed to him on the night at thetheatre, when his indignation induced him to take the oath. That allthat fervour should have been craftily assumed for the purpose ofdeceit was too repulsive a subject for reflection, and she put it fromher. Maybe if she had calmly brought her mind to bear on it, she mighthave perceived that she was hasty, and have remembered that it is notright to condemn criminals unheard. But she had caught a glimpse oftwo ugly facts, and withdrew her gaze from them at once withoutfurther inquiry.
Somebody was a traitor. The delegates had been betrayed more than onceunder the cloak of friendship. My lady had told her distinctly (or inher haste she thought so) that Terence had done the evil deed, for thepaltry wage of five hundred pounds. She had deemed that her cousin atleast was honest, and before thrusting his image from her sight, hadfelt, with a soreness for which she could not account, that she wouldhave been very, very glad if she could have pronounced him innocent.Doreen, though she diverted her attention from the painful subject,was wondrously interested--down in her inmost heart--in the guilt orinnocence of Terence, and felt a feeble flutter there, whose cause, ifshe had understood it, would have disgusted her. As it was, theflutter in time died a natural death, and, disillusioned, she sankinto the apathetic condition of one who drifts and is content todrift--a rudderless resignation which is beyond despondency--an utterhopelessness with which his behaviour, though she wist it not, mayhave had something to do.
Not long after her arrival at Glas-aitch-e she received a letter fromher father, in which was enclosed another, with whose seal the uprightgentleman had refrained from tampering. It was brought to him by anaged crone, who extracted a solemn promise that he would not open it.
'If ye promise,' she said, 'I'll believe ye, Arthur Wolfe, for ye're agood man, or ye would not be given so good a child.'
The eccentricity of the speech pleased the attorney-general, who senton the letter. It was from his godson Theobald, and Doreen recognisedwith gratitude the delicate tact which induced her father to pretendthat he did not know from whom it came. It removed from her mind theportion of its load which was endured on his behalf; for the younghero was safe. His vessel escaped as by a miracle through the centreof the English fleet. Hoche too was safe. Both were to join the armyof the Sambre and Meuse at once. He spoke no more of help from France;was evidently as disappointed as Miss Wolfe was. The dream was over.His sword belonged to the French Republic now, his uniform was that ofa French general. He must carve a name for himself among the ranks ofthe foes of France. Doreen thanked God that his pure young life hadnot been idly thrown away. Might it be reserved for glorious deeds onbehalf of Erin in the future? It was not likely. Better far that hetoo should have abandoned hope; for Ireland was prostrate, never torise either in his lifetime or in hers. All they could do was to bearas humbly as they might, shading their eyes from cruel sights--waitingas serenely as was possible for the call to a less hateful world.
So Doreen considered the seabirds and the transparent deeps, andpatted little savages on the pate, and smiled her quiet smile, andmade believe to be tranquilly resigned; though all the while she wasentranced--numbed as by a spell.
My Lords of Strogue, Vol. 2 (of 3) Page 6
