CHAPTER XXVIIII. THE HUNT-BREAKFAST
The ball lasted till nigh daybreak; and while the greater number of theguests departed, some few remained, by special invitation, at the abbey,to join a hunting party on the following day. For this Lionel had madeevery possible preparation, desiring to let his English friends witnessa favorable specimen of Irish sport and horsemanship. The stud andkennel were both in high condition, the weather favorable, and, as theold huntsman said, "'It would be hard if a fox would n't be agreeableenough to give the strange gentlemen a run."
In high anticipation of the coming morning, and with many a prayeragainst a frost, they separated for the night. All within the abbey weresoon sound asleep,--all save the Knight himself, who, the restraint ofan assumed part withdrawn, threw himself on a sofa in his dressing-room,worn out and exhausted by his struggle. Ruin was inevitable,--that hewell knew; but as yet the world knew it not, and for Lionel's sake heresolved to keep his own secret a few days longer. The visit was to lastbut eight days; two were already over; for the remaining six, then, hedetermined--whatever it might cost him--to preserve all the appearancesof his former estate, to wear the garb and seeming of prosperity, and dothe princely honors of a house that was never again to be his home.
"Poor Lionel!" thought he; "'twould break the boy's heart if such adisclosure should be made now; the high and daring promptings of hisbold spirit would not quail before misfortune, although his couragemight not sustain him in the very moment of the reverse. I will not riskthe whole fortune of his future happiness in such a trial; he shall knownothing till they are gone; one week of triumphant pleasure he shallhave, and then let him brace himself to the struggle, and breast thecurrent manfully."
While endeavoring to persuade himself that Lionel's lot was uppermost inhis mind, his heart would force the truth upon him that Lady Eleanor andHelen's fate was, in reality, a heavier stroke of fortune. Lionel wasa soldier, ardent and daring, fond of his profession, and far moreambitious of distinction than attached to the life of pleasure a courtand a great capital suggested; but they who had never known the wantof every luxury that can embellish life, whose whole existence had beenlike some fairy dream of pleasure, how were they to bear up againstthe dreadful shock? Lady Eleanor's health was frail and delicate in theextreme; Helen's attachment to her mother such that any impression onher would invariably recoil upon herself. What might be the consequencesof the disclosure to them Darcy could not, dared not, contemplate.
As he revolved all these things in his mind, and thought upon thedifficulties that beset him, he was at a loss whether to deplore thenecessity of wearing a false face of pleasure a few days longer, orrejoice at the occasion of even this brief reprieve from ruin. Thuspassed the weary hours that preceded daybreak, and while others sleptsoundly, or reviewed in their dreams the pleasures of the past night,Darcy's gloomy thoughts were fixed upon the inevitable calamity of hisfate, and the years, few but sad, that in all likelihood were now beforehim.
The stir and bustle of the servants preparing breakfast for the huntingparty broke in upon his dreary revery, and he suddenly bethought him ofthe part he had assigned himself to play. He dreaded the possibility ofan interview with Lady Eleanor, in which she would inevitably advert toGleeson, and the circumstances of his flight; this could not be avoided,however, were he to pass the day at home, and so he resolved to join thehunting-field, where perhaps some lingering trace of his old enthusiasmfor the sport might lead him to hope for a momentary relief of mind.
"Lionel, too, will be glad to see me in the saddle--it's some yearssince I crossed the sward at a gallop--and I am curious to know if aman's nerve is stouter when the world looks fair before him, or when thenight of calamity is lowering above his head." Muttering these words tohimself, he passed out into the hall, and crossing which, entered thecourtyard, and took his way towards the stables. It was still dark, butmany lights were moving to and fro, and the groom population were allabout and stirring. Darcy opened the door and looked down the longrange of stalls, where above twenty saddle-horses were now standing, thegreater number of them highly bred and valuable animals, and all in thehighest possible condition. Great was the astonishment of the stablemenas the Knight moved along, throwing a glance as he went at each stall,while a muttered "Welcome home to yer honor" ran from mouth to mouth.
"The bastes is looking finely, sir," said Bob Carney, who, as stud-groomand huntsman, had long presided over his department.
"So they are, Bob, but I don't know half of them; where did this strongbrown horse come from?"
"That's Clipper, yer honor; I knew you wouldn't know him. He took upfinely after his run last winter."
"And the fore leg, is it strong again?"
"As stout as a bar of iron; one of the boys had him out two days ago,and he took the yellow ditch flying: we measured nineteen feet betweenthe mark of his hoofs."
"He ought to be strong enough to carry me, Bob."
"Don't ride him, sir, he's an uncertain divil; and though he 'll gostraight over everything for maybe twenty minutes or half an hour, he'll stop short at a drain not wider than a potato furrow, and the powerof man would n't get him over it."
"That's a smart gray yonder,--what is she?"
"She's the one we tried as a leader one day; yer honor remembers you bidme shoot her, or get rid of her, for she kicked the traces, and nearlythe wheel-horse, all to smash; and now she's the sweetest tiling toride, for eleven stone, in the whole country. There's an English colonelto try her to-day; my only advice to him is, let her have her own way ofit, for, if he begins pulling at her, 't is maybe in Donegal he 'll bebefore evening."
"And what have you for me?" said the Knight; "for I scarcely know any ofmy old friends here."
"There's the mouse-colored cob----"
"No, no," said the Knight, laughing; "I want to keep my place, Bob. Youmust give me something better than that."
"Faith, an' your honor might have worse; but if it's for riding youare, take Black Peter, and you 'll never find the fence too big, or theground too heavy for him. I was going to give him to the English lord; Isuppose, after all, he 'll be better pleased with the cob."
"Well, then, Peter for me. And now let's see what Mr. Lionel has toride."
"There she is, and a beauty!" said Bob, as, with a dexterous jerk, hechucked a sheet off her haunches, and displayed the shining flanks andsplendid proportions of a thoroughbred mare. "That's Cushleen," said he,as he fixed his eyes on the Knight's face to enjoy the reflection of hisown delight. "That's the darlin' can do it!--a child can hould her,but it takes a man to sit on her back--racing speed over a flat, and ajump!--'t is more like the bound of a football than anything else."
"She has the eye of a hot one, Bob."
"And why would n't she? But she knows when to be so. Let her take herplace at the head of the whole field, with a light finger to guide and astout heart to direct her, and she's a kitten; but the divil a tiger wasever as fierce if another passes her, or a cowardly hand would try tohold her back. And there 's a nate tool, that black horse,--that 's foranother of the English gentlemen. Master Lionel calls him Sir Harry.They tell me he 's a fine rider, and has a pack of hounds himself in hisown place, and I am mistaken if he has the baste in his stable willgive him a betther day's sport. The chestnut here is for Miss Helen, forshe's coming to see them throw off, and it'll be a fine sight; we 'llbe thirty-six out of your honor's stables, Mr. Conolly is bringing ninemore, and all the Martins, and the Lynches, and Dalys, and Mr. HickmanO'Reilly and his son,--though, to be sure, _they_ won't do much for thehonor of ould Ireland."
The Knight turned away laughing, and re-entered the house.
Early as it yet was, the inmates of the abbey were stirring, and a greatbreakfast, laid for above thirty, was prepared in the library, forthe supper-tables occupied the dining-rooms, and the debris of themagnificent entertainment of the night before still lingered there. Twocheerful fires blazed on the ample hearths, and threw a mellow lustreover that spacious room, where
old Tate now busied himself in thoselittle harmless duties he fancied indispensable to the Knight's comfort,for the poor fellow, on hearing of his master's return, had once moreresumed his office.
The Knight's meeting with him was one of true friendship; differenceof station interposed no barrier to affection, and Darcy shook the oldman's hand as cordially as though they were brothers. Yet each was sadwith a secret sorrow, which all their efforts could scarce concealfrom the other. In vain the Knight endeavored to turn away old Tate'sattention by inquiries after his health, questions about home, or littleflatteries about his preparations, Tate's filmy eyes were fixed upon hismaster with a keenness that age could not dim.
"'T is maybe tired your honor is," said he, in a voice half meant asinquiry, half insinuation; "the Parliament, they tell me, destroys thehealth entirely."
"Very true, Tate; late hours, heated rooms, and some fatigue will notserve a man of my age; but I am tolerably well for all that."
"God be praised for it!" said Tate, piously, but in a voice that showedit was rather a wish he expressed than a conviction, when, suspectingthat he had suffered some portion of his fears to escape, he added morecheerfully, "And is n't Master Lionel grown an iligant, fine young man!When I seen him comin' up the stairs, it was just as if the forty-eightyears that's gone over was only a dhrame, and I was looking at yourhonor the day you came home from college; he has the same way with bisarms, and carries his head like you, and the same light step. Musha!"muttered he, below his breath, "the ould families never die out, butkeep their looks to the last."
"He's a fine fellow, Tate!" said the Knight, turning towards the window,for, while flattered by the old man's praises of his son, a deep pangshot through his heart at the wide disparity of fortune with which lifeopened for both of them. At the instant an arm was drawn round him, andHelen stood at his side: she was in her riding-habit, and looking inperfect beauty. Darcy gazed at her for a few seconds, and with suchevident admiration that she, as if accepting the compliment, drewherself up, and, smiling, said, "Yes, nothing short of conquest. Lioneltold his friends to expect a very unformed country girl; they shall seeat least she can ride."
"No harebrained risks, Helen, dearest. I'm to take the field to-day,and you must n't shake my nerve; for I want to bring no disgrace on mycounty."
"I was but jesting, my own dear papa," said she, drawing closer tohim; "but I really felt so curious to see these English horsemen'sperformance that I asked Lionel to train Alice for me."
"And Lionel, of course, but too happy to show his pretty sister--"
"Nay, nay, if you will quiz, I must only confess that my head is quiteturned already; our noble cousin overwhelms me with flatteries which,upon the principle the Indian accepts glass beads and spangles as gems,and gold, I take as real value. But here he comes."
And Lord Netherby, attired for the field in all the accuracy ofcostume, slipped towards them. After came Colonel Crofton, a well-knownfashionable of the clubs and a hanger-on of the peer; then Sir HarryBeauclerk, a young baronet of vast fortune, gay, good-tempered, andextravagant; while several others of lesser note, brother officers ofLionel's and men about town, brought up the rear, one only deservingremark, a certain Captain, or, as he was better known, Tom Nolan,--astrange, ambiguous kind of fellow, always seen in the world, constantlymet at the best houses, and yet nobody being able to explain why he wasasked, nor--as it very often happened--who asked him.
Lady Eleanor never appeared early in the day, but there was a sprinklingof lady-visitors through the room, guests at the abbey: a very pretty,but not over-afflicted widow, a Mrs. Somerville, with several Mrs.and Miss Lynches, Brownes, and Martins, comprising the beauties ofthe neighborhood. Lionel was the last to make his appearance, so manydirections had he to give about earth-stoppers and cover-hacks, drags,phaetons, fresh horses, and all the contingent requirements of a day'ssport. Besides, he had pledged himself most faithfully to give Mrs.Somerville's horse, a very magnificent barb, a training canter himself,with a horse-sheet round his legs, for she was a timid rider,--on someoccasions,--though certain calumnious people averred that, when alone,she would take any fence in the whole barony.
At length they were seated, and such a merry, happy party! There was butone sad heart in the company, and that none could guess at. And what arunning fire of pleasant raillery rattled round the table! How brimfulof wit and good-humor were they all! How ready each to take the jestagainst himself, and even heighten its flavor by some new touch ofdrollery. Harmless wagers respecting the places they would occupy at thefinish, gentle quiz-zings about safe riding through the gaps, and jokingcounsels as to the peculiar difficulties of an Irish country, were heardon all sides; while the Knight recounted the Galway anecdote of DickPerse taking an immense leap and disappearing afterwards. "'Call theground, Dick!' cried Lord Clanricarde, who was charging up at topspeed--'call the ground! What's at the other side?'
"'I _am_, thank God!' was the short reply, and the words came from thedepth of a gravel-pit."
At last, venison pasties and steaks, rolls and coffee, with their dueaccompaniment of liqueurs, came to an end, and a very sufficient uproarwithout, of men, dogs, and horses commingled, bespoke the activity ofpreparation there, while old Bob Carney's voice topped every other, ashe swore at or commended men and beasts indiscriminately.
"What a glorious morning for our sport!" said the Knight, as he threwopen the sash, and let into the room the heavy perfume of the earth,borne on a southerly wind. The sea was calm as an inland lake, and thedark clouds over it were equally motionless. "We shall be unlucky, myLord, if we do not show you some sport on such a day. Ah, there go thedogs!" And, as he spoke, the hounds issued from beneath the deep arch ofthe gateway, and with Bob and the whipper-in at their head, took theirway across the lawn.
"To horse! to horse!" shouted Lionel, gayly, from the courtyard, forthe riding party were not to proceed to the cover by the short path thehounds were gone, but to follow by a more picturesque and circuitousroute.
"I hope sincerely that beast is not intended for me," said LordNetherby, as a powerful black horse crossed the courtyard, in a seriesof bounds, and finished by landing the groom over his head.
"Never fear, my Lord," said Lionel, laughing; "Billy Pitt is meant forBeauclerk."
"You surely never named that animal after the minister, Knight?" saidhis Lordship.
"Yes, my Lord," said Darcy, with a smile; "it's just as unsafe toback one as the other. But here comes the heavy brigade. Which is yourchoice,--Black Peter, or Mouse?"
"If I may choose, I will confess this is more to my liking than anythingI have seen yet. You know that I don't mean to take any part in thedebate, so I may as well secure a quiet seat under the gallery. But, mydear Miss Darcy, what a mettlesome thing you 've got there!"
"She's only fidgety; if I can hold her when they throw off, I 'll haveno trouble afterwards." And the graceful girl sat back easily in hersaddle as the animal bounded and swerved with every stroke of her longriding-habit.
"There goes Beauclerk!" cried Lionel, as the young baronet shot like anarrow through the archway on the back of Billy Pitt; for no sooner hadhe touched the saddle than the unmanageable animal broke away from thegroom's hands, and set off at full speed down the lawn.
"I say, Darcy," cried Colonel Crofton, "is n't Beauclerk a step overyou in the 'Army List'?"
But Lionel never heard the question, for he was most busily occupiedabout Mrs. Somerville and her horse.
"Who drives the phaeton?--where's a safe whip to be found for Mrs.Martin?" said the Knight; and, seizing on a young Guardsman, he promotedhim to the box, with a very pretty girl beside him. A drag, with fourgrays, was filling at the same instant, with a mixed population ofhorsemen and spectators, among whom Captain Nolan seemed the presidingspirit, as, seated beside a brother officer of Lionel's on the box, heintroduced the several parties to each other, and did "the honors" ofthe conveyance.
Troops of horses, sheeted and hooded, now passed out with a number of
grooms and stable-boys, on their way to cover; and at last the greatcavalcade moved forward, the Knight, his daughter, and Lord Netherbygayly cantering on the grass, to permit the carriages to take the road.The drag came last; and although but newly met, the company were alreadyin the full enjoyment of that intimacy which high spirits and pleasurebeget, while Tom Nolan contributed his utmost to the merriment by jestswhich lost nothing of their poignancy from any scruples of their maker.
"There they go at last," said he, as Lionel and Mrs. Somerville canteredforth, followed by two grooms. "I never heard of a stirrup so hard toarrange as that, in all my life!"
The Knight Of Gwynne, Vol. 1 (of 2) Page 30
