CHAPTER XXVI. "THE corvy."
If the painter's license enables him to arrange the elements of sceneryinto new combinations, disposing and grouping anew, as taste or fancymay dictate, the novelist enjoys the lesser privilege of conveying hisreader at will from place to place, and thus, by varying the pointof view, procuring new aspects to his picture; less in virtue of thisprivilege than from sheer necessity, we will now ask our readers toaccompany us on our journey northward.
Whether it be the necessary condition of that profusion of nature'sgifts, so evident in certain places, or a mere accident, certain it isthere is scarcely any one spot remarkable for great picturesque beautyto arrive at which some bleak and uninteresting tract must not betraversed. To this rule, if it be such, the northern coast of Irelandoffers no exception.
The country, as you approach "the Causeway," has an aspect of drearydesolation that only needs the leaden sky and the drifting storm ofwinter to make it the most melancholy of all landscapes. A slightlyundulating surface extends for miles on every side, scarcely a houseto be seen, and save where the dip of the ground affords shelter, not atree of any kind. A small isolated spot of oats, green even in the lateautumn, is here and there to be descried, or a flock of black sheepwandering half wild o'er these savage wastes; vast masses of cloud, darkand lowering as rain and thunder can make them, hang gloomily overhead,for the tableland is still a lofty one, and the horizon is formed by theedge of those giant cliffs that stand the barriers of the western ocean,and against whose rocky sides the waves beat with the booming of distantartillery.
It was in one of those natural hollows of the soil, whose frequencyseems to acknowledge a diluvian origin, that the little cottage whichSandy once owned stood. Sheltered on the south and east by risingbanks, it was open on the other sides, and afforded a view seaward whichextended from the rocky promontory of Port Rush to the great bluff ofFairhead, whose summit is nigh one thousand seven hundred feet above thesea.
Perhaps in all the sea-board of the empire, nothing of the same extentcan vie in awful sublimity with this iron-bound coast. Gigantic cliffsof four and five hundred feet, straight as a wall, are seen perforatedbeneath by lofty tunnels, through which the wild waters plunge madly.Fragments of basalt, large enough to be called islands, are studdedalong the shore, the outlines fanciful and strange as beating waves andwinds can make them, while, here and there, in some deep-creviced bay,the water flows in with long and measured sweep, and, at each momentretiring, leaves a trace upon the strand, fleeting as the blush upon thecheek of beauty; and here a little group of fisher children may be seenat play, while the nets are drying on the beach, the only sight or soundof human life, save that dark moving speck, alternately seen as thegreat waves roll on, be such, and, while tossing to and fro, seems bysome charmed influence fettered to the spot. Yes, it is afishing-boat that has ventured out at the half ebb, with the wind offshore,--hazardous exploit, that only poverty suggests the courage toencounter!
In front of one of these little natural bays stood "the Corvy;" andthe situation might have been chosen by a painter, for, while combiningevery grand feature of the nearer landscape, the Scottish coast andeven Staffa might be seen of a clear evening; while westward, the richsunsets were descried in all their golden glory, tipping the rollingwaves with freckled lustre, and throwing a haze of violet-colored lightover the white rocks. And who is to say that, while the great gifts ofthe artist are not his who dwells in some rude cot like this, yetthe heart is not sensitively alive to all the influences of sucha scene,--its lonely grandeur, its tranquil beauty, or its fearfulsublimity,--and that the peasant, whose associations from infancy toage are linked with every barren rock and fissured crag around, has notcreated for himself his own store of fancied images, whose power is notless deeply felt that it has asked for no voice to tell its workings.
"The Corvy" was a strange specimen of architecture, and scarcely capableof being classified in any of the existing orders. Originally, the hutwas formed of the stern of the corvette, which, built of timbers ofgreat size and strength, alone of all the vessel resisted the waves.This, being placed keel uppermost, as most consisting with terrestrialnotions of building, and accommodated with a door and two windows, thelatter being filled with two ship-lenses, comprised the entire edifice.Rude and uncouth as it unquestionably was, it was regarded with mingledfeelings of envy and admiration by all the fishermen for miles round,for while they had contributed their tackle and their personal aid toplace the mass where it stood, they never contemplated its becoming thecomfortable dwelling they soon beheld, nor were these jealous murmuringsallayed by the assumption of a lofty flagstaff, which, in the pride ofconquest, old M'Grane displayed above his castle, little wotting thatthe banner that floated overhead waved with the lilies of France, andnot the Union Jack of England.
Sandy's father, however, possessed those traits of character whichconfer ascendency, whether a man's lot be cast among the great or thehumble; and he soon not only subdued those ungenerous sentiments,but even induced his neighbors to assist him in placing a small brasscarronade on the keel, or, as he now termed it, the ridge of hisdwelling, where, however little serviceable for warlike purposes, itmade a very specious and imposing ornament.
Such was the inheritance to which Sandy succeeded, and such thepossession he ceded for a consideration to Bagenal Daly, on thateventful morning their acquaintance began. In course of time, however,it fell to ruin, and lay untenanted and uncared for, when Miss Daly, inone of her rambling excursions, chanced to hear of it, and, beingstruck by the beauty of the situation, resolved to refit it as a summerresidence. Her first intentions on this head were humble enough; twosmall chambers at either side of the original edifice--now convertedinto a species of hall and a kitchen--comprised the whole, and thithershe betook herself, with that strange secret pleasure a life of perfectsolitude possesses for certain minds. For a year she endured theinconveniences of her narrow dwelling tolerably well; but as she grewmore attached to the spot, she determined on making it more comfortable;and, communicating the resolve to her brother, he not only concurred inthe notion, but half anticipated his assent by despatching an architectto the spot, under whose direction a cottage containing severalcomfortable rooms was added, and with such attention to thecircumstances of the ground, and such regard for the ancient characterof the building, that the traces of its origin could still bediscovered, and its old name of "the Corvy," be, even yet, notaltogether inapplicable. The rude hulk was now, however, the centre ofa long cottage, the timbers, partly covered by the small-leaved ivy,partly concealed by a rustic porch, displaying overhead the great keeland the flagstaff,--an ornament which no remonstrance of the unhappyarchitect could succeed in removing. As a sort of compromise, indeed,the carronade was dismounted, and placed beside the hall-door. This wasthe extreme stretch of compliance to which Daly assented.
The hall, which was spacious and lofty in proportion with other parts ofthe building, was fitted with weapons of war and the chase, brought frommany a far-off land, and assembled with an incongruity that was no meantype of the owner. Turkish scimitars and lances, yataghans, and Malaycreeses were grouped with Indian bows, tomahawks, and whale harpoons,while richly embroidered pelisses hung beside coats of Esquimaux seal,of boots made from the dried skin of the sun-fish. A long Swiss riflewas suspended by a blue silk scarf from one wall, and, over it, a damp,discolored parchment bore testimony, to its being won as a prize in thegreat shooting match of the Oberland, nearly forty years before. Beneaththese, and stretching away into a nook contrived for the purpose, wasthe bark canoe in which Daly and Sandy made their escape from the tribeof the Sioux, by whom they were held in captivity for six years. Twovery unprepossessing figures, costumed as savages, sat in this frailbark, paddle in hand, and to all seeming resolutely intent on theirpurpose of evasion. It would have been pardonable, however, for theobserver not to have identified in these tattooed and wild-lookingpersonages a member of Parliament and his valet, even though assistedto the discovery by
their Indian names, which, with a laudable care forpublic convenience, had been written on a card, and suspended round theneck of each. Opposite to them, and in the corner of the hall, stood alarge black bear, with fiery eyeballs and snow-white teeth, so admirablycounterfeiting life as almost to startle the beholder; while over hishead was a fearful, misshapen figure, whose malignant look and distortedproportions at once proclaimed it an Indian idol. But why enumeratethe strange and curious objects which, notwithstanding their seemingincongruity, were yet all connected with Daly's history, and formed, infact, a kind of pictorial narrative of his life? Here stood the cup,--asplendid specimen of Benvenuto's chisel, given him by the Doge ofVenice,--and there was the embossed dagger presented by a King of Spain,with a patent of Grandee of the first class; while in a small glasscase, covered with dust, and scarce noticeable, was a small andbeautifully shaped satin slipper, with a rosette of now faded silver.But of this only one knew the story, and _he_ never revealed it.
If we have taken an unwarrantable liberty with our reader by this tooprolix description, our excuse is, that we might have been far moretiresome had we been so disposed, leaving, as we have, the greater partof this singular chamber unnoticed; while our _amende_ is ready, andwe will spare any further detail of the rest of the cottage, merelyobserving that it was both commodious and well arranged, and furnishednot only with taste, but even elegance. And now to resume ourlong-neglected story.
It was about eight o'clock of a cold, raw February night, withoccasional showers of sleet and sudden gusts of fitful wind,--that happycombination which makes up the climate of the north of Ireland, and,with a trifling abatement of severity, constitutes its summer as wellas its winter,--that Miss Daly sat reading in that strange apartment wehave just mentioned, and which, from motives of economy, she occupiedfrequently during the rainy season, as the necessity of keeping it airedrequired constant fires, not so necessary in the other chambers.
A large hearth displayed the cheerful blaze of burning bog-deal, and anold Roman lamp, an ancient patern, threw its lustre on the many curiousand uncouth objects on every side. If the flashing jets of light thatbroke from the dry wood gave at times a false air of vitality to thestuffed figures around, in compensation it made the only living thingthere seem as unreal as the rest.
Wrapped up in the great folds of a wide Greek capote she had taken fromthe wall, and the hood of which she had drawn over her head, Miss Dalybent over the yellow pages of an old quarto volume. Of her figure notrace could be marked, nor any guess concerning it, save that she wasextremely tall. Her features were bold and commanding, and in youth musthave been eminently handsome. The eyebrows were large and arched, theeyes dark and piercing, and the whole contour of the face had thatcharacter of thoughtful beauty so often seen in the Jewish race. Age andsolitude, perhaps, had deepened the lines around the angles of the mouthand brought down the brows, so as to give a look of severity to featureswhich, from this cause, became strikingly resembling her brother's.If time had made its sad inroad on those lineaments once so lovely,it seemed to spare even the slightest touch to that small white hand,which, escaping from the folds of her mantle, was laid upon the volumebefore her. The taper fingers were covered with rings, and more thanone bracelet of great price glittered upon her wrist; nor did this tasteseem limited to these displays, for in the gold combs that fastened, oneither temple, her masses of gray hair, rich gems were set profusely,forming the strangest contrast to the coarse folds of that red-browncloak in which she was enveloped.
However disposed to profit by her studies, Miss Daly was occasionallybroken in upon by the sound of voices from the kitchen, which, by anunlucky arrangement of the architect, was merely separated from the hallby a narrow corridor. Sometimes the sound was of laughter and merriment;far oftener, however, the noises betokened strife; for so it is, inthe very smallest household--there were but two in the presentcase--unanimity will not always prevail. The contention was no less aone than that great national dispute which has separated the island intotwo wide and opposing parties; Miss Daly's butler, or man of all work,being a stout representative of southern Ireland; her cook an equallyrigid upholder of the northern province. If little Dan Nelligan had thebroader cause, he was the smaller advocate, being scarcely four feet inheight; while Mrs. M'Kerrigan was fifteen stone of honest weight, andwith a _torso_ to rival the Farnese Hercules. Their altercations weredaily, almost hourly; for, living in a remote, unvisited spot, theyseemed to console themselves for want of collision with the world bymutual disputes and disagreements.
To these family jars, habit had so reconciled Miss Daly that she seldomnoticed them; indeed, the probability is that, like the miller who wakesup when the mill ceases its clamors, she might have felt a kind of shockhad matters taken a quieter course. People who employ precisely the sameweapons cannot long continue a warfare without the superiority of one orthe other being sure to evince itself. The diversity of the forces, onthe contrary, suggests new combinations, and with dissimilar armor thecombat may be prolonged to any extent. Thus was it here; Dan's fortewas aggravation,--that peculiarly Irish talent which makes much outof little, and, when cultivated with the advantages of natural gifts,enables a man to assume the proud political position of an Agitator, andin time a Liberator.
Mrs. M'Kerrigan, slow of thought, and slower of speech, was ill-suitedto repel the assaults of so wily and constant a foe; she consequentlyfell back on the prerogatives of her office in the household, and repaidall Dan's declamation by changes in his diet,--a species of retributionthe heaviest she could have hit upon.
Such was the present cause of disturbance, and such the reason for Dan'sloud denunciations on the "black north," uttered with a volubility andvehemence that pertain to a very different portion of the empire. Twicehad Miss Daly rung the little hand-bell that stood beside her to enforceorder, but it was unnoticed in the clamor of the fray, while louder andlouder grew the angry voice of Dan Nelligan, which at length was plainlyaudible in the hall.
"Look now, see then, may the divil howld a looking-glass to your sins,but I 'll show it to the mistress! I may, may I? That 's what you 'regrumbling, ye ould black-mouthed Prasbytarien! 'T is the fine supper toput before a crayture wet to the skin!"
"Dinna ye hear the bell, Nelly?" This was an epithet of insult thelittle man could not endure. "Ye 'd ken the tinkle o' that, av ye heardit at the mass."
"Oh, listen to the ould heretic! Oh, holy Joseph! there 's the way totalk of the blessed ould ancient religion! Give me the dish; I 'll bringit into the parlor this minit, I will. I 'll lave the place,--my time'sup in March. I would n't live in the house wid you for a mine of goold!"
"Are ye no goin' to show the fish to the leddy?" growled out the cook,in her quiet barytone.
At this moment Miss Daly's bell announced that endurance had reachedits limit, and Dan, without waiting to return the fire, hastened to thehall, muttering as he went, loud enough to be heard, "There, now, that'sthe mistress ringing, I 'm sure; but sorra bit one can hear wid yournoise and ballyragging!"
"What is the meaning of this uproar?" said Miss Daly, as the little manentered, with a very different aspect from what he wore in the kitchen.
"'Tis Mrs. M'Kerrigan, my Lady; she was abusin' the ould families in thecounty Mayo, and I could n't bear it; and because I would n't hear themaster trated that way, she gives me nothing but fish the day after ablack fast, though she does be ating beef under my nose when I darn'ttouch meat, and it's what, she put an ould baste of a cod before methis evening for my supper, and here 's Lent will be on us in a few daysmore."
"How often have I told you," said Miss Daly, sternly, "that I 'll notsuffer these petty, miserable squabbles to reach me? Go back to thekitchen; and, mark me, if I hear a whisper, or muttering ever so low inyour voice, I 'll put you to spend the night upon the rocks."
Dan skulked from the room like a culprit remanded to jail; but no soonerhad he reached the kitchen than, assuming a martial air and bearing, hestrutted up to the fire and turned his ba
ck to it.
"Ay," said he, in a stage soliloquy, "it was what it must come to sooneror later; and now she may go on her knees, and divil a foot I 'll stay!It's not like the last time, sorra bit! I know what she 's at--' 'T ismy way, Danny, you must have a pound at Avster '--bother! I 'm used tothat now."
"There's the bell again, ye auld blethering deevil."
But Mrs. M'Kerrigan ran no risk of a reply now, for at the first tinkleDan was back in the hall.
"There is some one knocking at the wicket without; see who it may be atthis late hour of the night," said Miss Daly, without raising her headfrom the book, for, strange as were such sounds in that solitary place,her attention was too deeply fixed on the page before her to admit ofeven a momentary distraction of thought. Dan left the room with becomingalacrity, but in reality bent on anything rather than the performance ofhis errand. Of all the traits of his southern origin, none had thesame predominance in his nature as a superstitious fear of spiritsand goblins,--a circumstance not likely to be mitigated by his presentlonely abode, independently of the fact that more than one popularbelief attributed certain unearthly sights and sounds to the oldtimbers of "the Corvy," whose wreck was associated with tales of horrorsufficient to shake stouter nerves than "Danny's."
When he received this order from his mistress, he heard it pretty muchas a command to lead a forlorn hope, and sat himself down at theoutside of the door to consider what course to take. While he was thusmeditating, the sounds became plainly audible, a loud and distinctknocking was heard high above the whistling wind and drifting rain,accompanied from time to time by a kind of shout, or, as it seemed toDan's ears, a scream like the cry of a drowning man.
"Dinna ye hear that, ye auld daft body?" said Nancy, as, pale with fear,and trembling in every limb, Dan entered the kitchen.
"I do indeed, Mrs. Mac,"--this was the peace appellation he alwaysconferred on Nancy,--"I hear it, and my heart 's beatin' for everystroke I listen to; 't is n't afeard I am, but a kind of a notion Ihave, like a dhrame, you know "--(here he gave a sort of hystericalgiggle)--"as if the ould French Captain was coming to look after hishand, that was chopped off with the hatchet when he grasped hold of therock."
"He canna hae muckle use for it noo," responded Nancy, dryly, as shesmoked away as unconcerned as possible.
"Or the mate!" said Dan, giving full vent to his store of horrors; "theysay, when he got hold of the rope, that they gave it out so fast as hehauled on it, till he grew faint, and sank under the waves."
"He's no likely to want a piece of spunyarn at this time o' day,"rejoined Nancy again. "He's knocking brawly, whoever he be; had ye nobetter do the leddy's bidding, and see who 's there?"
"Would it be plazing to you, Mrs. Mac," said Dan, in his most meltingaccents, "to come as far as the little grass-plot, just out ofcuriosity, ye know, to say ye seen it?"
"Na, na, my bra' wee mon, ye maun ee'n gae by your-sel'; I dinna kenmickle about sperits and ghaists, but I hae a gude knowledge of therheumatiz without seekin' it on a night like this. There's the leddy'sbell again, she 's no pleased wi' yer delay."
"Say I was puttin' on my shoes, Nancy," said Dan, as his teeth chatteredwith fear, while he took down an old blunderbuss from its place abovethe fire, and which had never been stirred for years past.
"Lay her back agen where ye found her," said Nancy, dryly; "is na everyfule kens the like o' them! Take your mass-book, and the gimcracks yehae ower your bed, but dinna try mortal weapons with them creatures."
Ironical as the tone of this counsel unquestionably was, Dan was in nomood to reject it altogether, and he slipped from its place within hisbreast to a more ostensible position a small blessed token, or "gospel,"as it is called, which he always wore round his neck. By this time theclank of the bell kept pace with the knocking sounds without, andpoor Dan was fairly at his wits' end which enemy to face. Some vaguephilosophy about the "devil you know, and the devil you don't," seemedto decide his course, for he rushed from the kitchen in a state offrenzied desperation, and, with the blunderbuss at full cock, took theway towards the gate.
The wicket, as it was termed, was in reality a strong oak gate,garnished at top with a row of very formidable iron spikes, and as itwas hung between two jagged and abrupt masses of rock, formed a verysufficient outwork, though a very needless one, since the slightest turnto either side would have led to the cottage without any interveningbarrier to pass. This fact it was which now increased Dan Nelligan'sterrors, as he reasoned that nobody but a ghost or evil spirit would bebothering himself at the wicket, when there was a neat footpath closeby.
"Who's there?" cried Dan, with a voice that all his efforts could notrender steady.
"Come out and open the gate," shouted a deep voice in return.
"Not till you tell me where you come from, and who you are, if you are'lucky.'"
"That I 'm not," cried the other, with something very like a deep groan;"if I were, I 'd scarce be here now."
"That's honest? anyhow," muttered Dan, who interpreted the phrase in itspopular acceptation among the southern peasantry. "And what are you comeback for, alanah?" continued he, in a most conciliating tone.
"Open the gate, and don't keep me here answering your stupid questions."
Though these words were uttered with a round, strong intonation thatsounded very like the present world, Dan made no other reply than anendeavor to repeat a Latin prayer against evil spirits, when suddenly,and with a loud malediction on his obstinacy, Dan saw "the thing," as heafterwards described it, take a flying leap over the gate, at leastten feet high, and come with a bang on the grass, not far from where hestood. To fire off his blunderbuss straight at the drifting clouds overhis head, and to take to flight was Dan's only impulse, screaming out,"the Captain 's come! he's come!" at the very top of his lungs. Thelittle strength he possessed only carried him to the kitchen door,where, completely overcome with terror, he dropped senseless on theground.
While this was occurring, Miss Daly, alarmed by the report of fire-arms,but without any personal fears of danger, threw open the hall door andcalled out, "Who is there?" and as the dark shadow of a figure camenearer, "Who are you, sir?"
"My name is Forester, madam,--a friend of your brother's; for I perceiveI have the honor to address Miss Daly."
By this time the stranger had advanced into the full light of thelamp within, where his appearance, tired and travel-stained as he was,corroborated his words.
"You have had a very uncourteous welcome, sir," said Miss Daly,extending her hand and leading him within the cottage.
"The reception was near being a warm one, I fear," said Forester,smiling; "for as I unfortunately, growing rather impatient, threw mycarpet bag over the gate, intending to climb it afterwards, some onefired at me,--not with a good aim, however; for I heard the slugsrattling on a high cliff behind me."
"Old Dan, I am certain, mistook you for a ghost or a goblin," said MissDaly, laughing, as if the affair were an excellent joke devoid of allhazard; "we have few visitors down here from either world."
"Really, madam, I will confess it, if the roads are only as impassablefor ghosts as for men of mortal mould, I 'm not surprised at it. I leftColeraine at three o'clock to-day, where I was obliged to exchange mytravelling carriage for a car, and I have been travelling ever since,sometimes on what seemed a highway, far oftener, however, across fieldswith now and then an intervening wall to throw down,--which we did, Iown, unceremoniously; while lifting the horse twice out of deep holes,mending a shaft, and splicing the traces, lost some time. The driver,too, was once missing,--a fact I only discovered after leaving him halfa mile behind. In fact, the whole journey was full of small adventuresup to the moment when we came to a dead stand at the foot of a highcliff, where the driver told me the road stopped, and that the rest ofmy way must be accomplished on foot; and on my asking what directionto take, he brought me some distance off to the top of a rock, whence Icould perceive the twinkling of a light, and said, 'That's the Corvy.' Idid my best to sec
ure his services as a guide, but no offer of money norpersuasions could induce him to leave his horse and come any further;and now, perhaps, I can guess the reason,--there is some superstitionabout the place at nightfall."
"No, no, you 're mistaken there, sir; few of these people, however theymay credit such tales, are terrified by them. It was the northern spiritdictated the refusal: his contract was to go so far, it would have 'puthim out of his way' to go further, and his calculation was that allthe profit he could fairly derive--and he never speculated on anythingunfair--would not repay him. Such are the people of this province."
"The trait is honest, I 've no doubt, but it can scarcely be thesource of many amiable ones," said Forester, smarting under the recentinconvenience.
"We 'll talk of that after supper," said Miss Daly, rising, "and I leaveyou to make a good fire while I go to give some orders."
"May I not have the honor to present my credentials first?" saidForester, handing Bagenal Daly's letter to her.
"My brother is quite well, is he not?"
"In excellent health; I left him but two days since."
"The despatch will keep, then," said she, thrusting it into aletter-rack over the chimney-piece, while she left the room to make thearrangement she spoke of.
Miss Daly's absence was not of long duration, but, brief as it was, itafforded Forester time enough to look around at the many strangeand incongruous decorations of the apartment, nor had he ceased hiswonderment when Dan, pale and trembling in every limb, entered, tray inhand, to lay the supper-table.
With many a sidelong, stealthy look, Dan performed his duties, as it waseasy to see that however disposed to regard the individual before him asof this world's company, "the thing that jumped out of the sky," as hecalled it, was yet an unexplained phenomenon.
"I see you are surprised by the motley companionship that surroundsme," said Miss Daly; "but, as a friend of Bagenal's, and acquainted,doubtless, with his eccentric habits, they will astonish you less. Come,let me hear about him,--is he going to pay me a visit down here?"
"I fear not, at this moment," said Forester, with an accent ofmelancholy; "his friendship is heavily taxed at the present juncture.You have heard, perhaps, of the unhappy event which has spread suchdismay in Dublin?"
"No! what is it? I hear of nothing, and see nobody here."
"A certain Mr. Gleeson, the trusted agent of many country gentlemen, hassuddenly fled--"
Before Forester could continue, Miss Daly arose, and tore open herbrother's letter. For a few seconds Forester was struck with thewonderful resemblance to her brother, as, with indrawn breath andcompressed lips, she read; but gradually her color faded away, her handstrembled, and the paper fell from them, while, with a voice scarcelyaudible, she whispered: "And it has come to this!" Covering her facewith the folds of her cloak, she sat for some minutes buried in deepsorrow; and when she again looked up, years seemed to have passed over,and left their trace upon her countenance: it was pale and haggard, anda braid of gray hair, escaping beneath her cap, had fallen across hercheek, and increased the sad expression.
"So is it," said she, aloud, but speaking as though to herself,--"sois it: the heavy hand is laid on all in turn; happier they who meetmisfortune early in life, when the courage is high and the heartunshrinking: if the struggle be life-long, the victory is certain;but after years of all the world can give of enjoyment--You knowMaurice?--you know the Knight, sir?"
"Yes, madam, slightly; but with Lady Eleanor and her daughter I have thehonor of intimate acquaintance."
"I will not ask how he bears up against a blow like this. If his ownfate only hung in the balance, I could tell that myself; but for hiswife, to whom they say he is so devotedly attached--you know it was alove-match, so they called it in England, because the daughter of anEarl married the first Commoner in Ireland. And Bagenal advises theircoming here! Well, perhaps he is right; they will at least escape theinsolence of pity in this lonely spot. Oh! sir, believe me, there is aweighty load of responsibility on those who rule us; these things areless the faults of individuals than of a system. You began here byconfiscation, you would finish by corruption. Stimulating to excessesof every kind a people ten times more excitable than your own,--nowflattering, now goading,--teaching them to vie with you in displaywhile you mocked the recklessness of their living, you chafed them intoexcesses of alternate loyalty or rebellion."
However satisfied of its injustice, Forester made no reply to this burstof passion, but sat without speaking as she resumed:--
"You will say there are knaves in every country, and that this Gleesonwas of our rearing; but I deny it, sir. I tell you he was a basecounterfeit we have borrowed from yourselves. That meek, submissivemanner, that patient drudgery of office, that painstaking, pettyrectitude, make up 'your respectable men;' and in this garb of characterthe business of life goes on with you. And why? Because you take itat its worth. But here, in Ireland, we go faster; trust means fullconfidence,--confidence without limit or bound; and then, too often,ruin without redemption. Forgive me, sir; age and sorrow both haveprivileges, and I perhaps have more cause than most others to speakwarmly on this theme. Now, let me escape my egotism by asking you toeat, for I see we have forgotten our supper all this time."
From that moment Miss Daly never adverted further to the burden of herbrother's letter, but led Forester to converse about his journey and thepeople whom, even in his brief experience, he perceived to be so unlikethe peasantry of the West.
"Yes," said she, in reply to an observation of his, "these diversitiesof character observable in different places are doubtless intended,like the interminable varieties of natural productions, to increase ourinterest in life, and, while extending the sphere of speculation, tocontribute to our own advancement. Few people, perhaps not any, are tobe found without some traits of amiability; here there is much tobe respected, and, when habit has dulled the susceptibility of firstimpressions, much also to be liked. But shall I not have the pleasure ofshowing you my neighbors and my neighborhood?"
"My visit must be of the shortest; I rather took than obtained my leaveof absence."
"Well, even a brief visit will do something; for my neighbors all dwellin cottages, and my neighborhood comprises the narrow strip of coastbetween this hut and the sea, whose plash you hear this minute.To-morrow you will be rested from your journey, and if the day permitswe 'll try the Causeway."
Forester accepted the invitation so frankly proffered, and went to hisroom not sorry to lay his head upon a pillow after two weary nights uponthe road.
Forester was almost shocked as he entered the breakfast-room on thefollowing morning to see the alteration in Miss Daly's appearance. Shehad evidently passed a night of great sorrow, and seemed with difficultyto bear up against the calamitous tidings of which he was the bearer.She endeavored, it is true, to converse on matters of indifference,--theroad he had travelled, the objects he had seen, and so on; but theeffort was ever interrupted by broken snatches of reflection that wouldvent themselves in words, and all of which bore on the Knight and hisfortunes.
To Forester's account of her brother Bagenal's devotion to his friendshe listened with eager interest, asking again and again what part hehad taken, whether his counsels were deemed wise ones, and if he stillenjoyed to the fullest extent the confidence of his old friend.
"It is no friendship of yesterday, sir," said she, with a heightenedcolor and a flashing eye; "they knew each other as boys, they walkedthe mountains together as young men, speculated on the future pathsfate might open before them, and the various ambitions which, even then,stirred within them. Bagenal was ever rash, headstrong, and impetuous,rarely firm in purpose till some obstacle seemed to defy itsaccomplishment. Maurice--the Knight, I mean--was not less resolute whenroused, but more often so much disposed to concede to others that hewould postpone his wishes to their own; and once believing himself inany way pledged to a course, would forget all, save the fulfilment ofthe implied promise. Such were the two dispositions, which
, acting andreacting on each other, effected the ruin of both: the one wasted ineccentricity what the other squandered in listless indifference; andwith abilities enough to have won distinction for humble men, they haveearned no other reputation than that of singularity or convivialism.
"As for Bagenal," she said, after a pause, "wealth was never but anincumbrance to him; he was one of those persons who never saw any usefor money, save in the indulgence of mere caprice; he treated his greatfortune as a spoiled child will do a toy, and never rested till hehad pulled it to pieces, and perhaps derived the same moral lessontoo,--astonishment at the mere trifle which once amused him. But MauriceDarcy,--whose tastes were ever costly and cultivated, who regardedsplendor not as the means of vulgar display, but as the fittingaccompaniment of a house illustrious by descent and deeds, and deemedthat all about and around him should bear the impress of himself,generous and liberal as he was,--how is he to bear this reverse? Tellme of Lady Eleanor; and Miss Darcy, is she like the Knight, or has herEnglish blood given the character to her beauty?"
"She is very like her father," said Forester, "but more so even indisposition than in features."
"How happy I am to hear it," said Miss Daly, hastily; "and she is, then,high-spirited and buoyant? What gifts in an hour like this!"
"You say truly, madam, she will not sink beneath the stroke, believeme."
"Well, this news has reconciled me to much of your gloomier tidings,"said Miss Daly; "and now let us wander out upon the hills; I feel as ifwe could talk more freely as we stroll along the beach."
Miss Daly arose as she spoke, and led the way through the little gardenwicket, which opened on a steep pathway down to the shore.
"This will be a favorite walk with Helen, I'm certain," said she. "Thecaves are all accessible at low water, and the view of Fairhead finerthan from any other point. I must instruct you to be a good and a safeguide. I must teach you all the art and mystery of the science, makeyou learned in the chronicles of Dunluce, and rake up for you legends ofghostcraft and shipwreck enough to make the fortunes of a romancer."
"I thank you heartily," said Forester; "but I cannot remain here to meetmy friends."
"Oh, I understand you," said Miss Daly, who in reality put a wronginterpretation on his words; "but you shall be my guest. There is alittle village about four miles from this, where I intend to take up myabode. I hope you will not decline hospitality which, if humble, is atleast freely proffered."
"I regret deeply," said Forester, and he spoke in a tone of sorrow,"that I cannot accept your kindness. I stand in a position of no commondifficulty at this moment." He hesitated, as if doubting whether toproceed or not, and then, in a more hurried voice, resumed: "There is noreason why I should obtrude my own petty cares and trials where greatermisfortunes are impending; but I cannot help telling you that I havebeen rash enough, in a moment of impatience, to throw up an appointmentI held on the Viceroy's Staff, and I know not how far the step may yetinvolve me with my relatives."
"Tell me how came you first acquainted with the Darcys?" said Miss Daly,as if following out in her own mind a train of thought.
"I will be frank with you," said Forester, "for I cannot help being so;there are cases where confidence is not a virtue, but a necessity. Everyword you speak, every tone of your voice, is so much your brother's thatI feel as if I were confiding to him in another form. I learned to knowthe Knight of Gwynne in a manner which you may deem, perhaps, littlecreditable to myself, though I trust you will see that I neither abusedthe knowledge nor perverted the honor of the acquaintanceship. It was inthis wise."
Briefly, but without reserve, Forester narrated the origin of his firstjourney to the West, and, without implicating the honor of his relative,Lord Castlereagh, explained the nature of his mission, to ascertain thesentiments of the Knight, and the possibility of winning him to the sideof the Government. His own personal adventures could not, of course, beomitted, in such a narrative; but he touched on the theme as slightly ashe could, and only dwelt on the kindness he had experienced in his longand dangerous illness, and the long debt of gratitude which bound him tothe family.
Of the intimacy that succeeded he could not help speaking, and, whetherfrom his studied avoidance of her name, or that, when replying to anyquestion of Miss Daly's concerning Helen Darcy, his manner betrayedagitation, certain it is that when he concluded, Miss Daly's eyes wereturned towards him with an expression of deep significance that calledthe color to his cheek.
"And so, sir," said she, in a slow and measured voice, "you went downto play the tempter, and were captured yourself. Come, come, I knowyour secret; you have told it by signs less treacherous than words; andHelen,--for I tell you freely my interest is stronger for her,--how isshe disposed towards you?"
Forester never spoke, but hung his head abashed and dejected.
"Yes, yes, I see it all," said Miss Daly, hurriedly; "you would winthe affection of a generous and high-souled girl by the arts whichfind favor in your more polished world, and you have found that thefascinations of manner and the glittering _eclat_ of an aide-de-camphave failed. Now, take my counsel. But first let me ask, is thisaffection the mere prompting of an idle or capricious moment, or do youlove her with a passion round which the other objects of your life areto revolve and depend? I understand that pressure of the hand; it isenough. My advice is simple. You belong to a profession second to nonein its high and great rewards: do not waste its glorious opportunitiesby the life of a courtier; be a soldier in feeling as well as in garb;let her whose heart you would win, feel that in loving you she is payingthe tribute to qualities that make men esteem and respect you; that sheis not bestowing her hand upon the mere favorite of a Court, but onone whose ambitions are high, and whose darings are generous. Oh! leavenothing, or as little as you may, to mere influence; let your boast be,and it will be a proud one, that with high blood and a noble name youhave started fairly in the race, and distanced your competitors. This ismy counsel. What think you of it?"
"I will follow it," said Forester, firmly; "I will follow it, though, Iown it to you, it suggests no hope, where hope would be happiness."
"Well, then," said Miss Daly, "you shall spend this day with me, andI will not keep you another; you have made me your friend by thisconfidence, and I will use the trust with delicacy and with fidelity."
"May I write to you?" said Forester, "and will you let me hear from youagain?"
"With pleasure; I should have asked it myself had you not done so. Now,let us talk of the first steps to be taken in this affair; and here is abench where we can rest ourselves while we chat."
Forester sat down beside her, and, in the freedom of one to whom fortunehad so unexpectedly presented a confidante, opened all the secret storeof his cares and hopes and fears. It was late when they turned againtowards "the Corvy," but the youth's step was lighter, and his brow moreopen, while his heart was higher than many a previous day had found him.
The Knight Of Gwynne, Vol. 1 (of 2) Page 28
