The Knight Of Gwynne, Vol. 2 (of 2)
Page 2
CHAPTER II. A TALE OF MR. DEMPSEY'S GRANDFATHER
The Knight of Gwynne was far too much occupied in his own reflectionsto attend to his companion, and exhibited a total unconcern to severalpiquant little narratives of Mrs. Mackie's dexterity in dealing thecards, of Mrs. Fumbally's parsimony in domestic arrangements, of MissBoyle's effrontery, of Leonard's intemperance, and even of Miss Daly'sassumed superiority.
"You 're taking the wrong path," said Mr. Dempsey, suddenly interruptingone of his own narratives, at a spot where the two roads diverged,--oneproceeding inland, while the other followed the line of the coast.
"With your leave, sir," said Darcy, coldly, "I will take this way, andif you 'll kindly permit it, I will do so alone."
"Oh, certainly!" said Dempsey, without the slightest sign of umbrage;"would never have thought of joining you had it not been fromoverhearing an expression so exactly pat to my own condition, that Ithought we were brothers in misfortune; you scarcely bear up as well asI do, though."
Darcy turned abruptly round, as the fear flashed across him, and hemuttered to himself, "This fellow knows me; if so, the whole county willsoon be as wise as himself, and the place become intolerable." Oppressedwith this unpleasant reflection, the Knight moved on, nor was it tillafter a considerable interval that he was conscious of his companion'spresence; for Mr. Dempsey still accompanied him, though at the distanceof several paces, and as if following a path of his own choosing.
Darcy laughed good-humoredly at the pertinacity of his tormentor; andhalf amused by the man, and half ashamed of his own rudeness to him, hemade some casual observation on the scenery to open a reconciliation.
"The coast is much finer," said Dempsey, "close to your cottage."
This was a home-thrust for the Knight, to show him that concealment wasof no use against so subtle an adversary.
"'The Corvy' is, as you observe, very happily situated," replied Darcy,calmly; "I scarcely know which to prefer,--the coast-line towardsDunluce, or the bold cliffs that stretch away to Bengore."
"When the wind comes north-by-west," said Dempsey, with a shrewd glanceof his greenish gray eyes, "there 's always a wreck or two between theSkerries and Portrush."
"Indeed! Is the shore so unsafe as that?"
"Oh, yes. You may expect a very busy winter here when the homeward-boundAmericans are coming northward."
"D----n the fellow! does he take me for a wrecker?" said Darcy tohimself, not knowing whether to laugh or be angry.
"Such a curiosity that old 'Corvy' is, they tell me," said Dempsey,emboldened by his success; "every species of weapon and arm in theworld, they say, gathered together there."
"A few swords and muskets," said the Knight, carelessly; "a stray dirkor two, and some harpoons, furnish the greater part of the armory."
"Oh, perhaps so! The story goes, however, that old Daly--brother, Ibelieve, of our friend at Mother Fum's--could arm twenty fellows at amoment's warning, and did so on more than one occasion too."
"With what object, in Heaven's name?"
"Buccaneering, piracy, wrecking, and so on," said Dempsey, with all theunconcern with which he would have enumerated so many pursuits of thechase.
A hearty roar of laughter broke from the Knight; and when it ceased hesaid, "I would be sincerely sorry to stand in your shoes, Mr. Dempsey,so near to yonder cliff, if you made that same remark in Mr. Daly'shearing."
"He 'd gain very little by me," said Mr. Dempsey; "one and eightpence,an old watch, an oyster-knife, and my spectacles, are all the propertyin my possession--except, when, indeed," added he, after a pause, "Bobremits the quarter's allowance."
"It is only just," said Darcy, gravely, "to a gentleman who takes suchpains to inform himself on the affairs of his neighbors, that I shouldtell you that Mr. Bagenal Daly is not a pirate, nor am I a wrecker. Iam sure you will be generous enough for this unasked information not torequire of me a more lengthened account either of my friend or myself."
"You 're in the Revenue, perhaps?" interrupted the undaunted Dempsey; "Ithought so when I saw you first."
Darcy shook his head in dissent.
"Wrong again. Ah! I see it all; the old story. Saw better days--you havejust come down here to lie snug and quiet, out of the way of writs andlatitats--went too fast--by Jove, that touches myself too! If I hadn'thappened to have a grandfather, I 'd have been a rich man this day. Didyou ever chance to hear of Dodd and Dempsey, the great wine-merchants?My father was son of Dodd and Dempsey,--that is Dempsey, you know; andit was his father-Sam Dempsey--ruined him."
"No very uncommon circumstance," said the Knight, sorrowfully, "for anIrish father."
"You 've heard the story, I suppose?--of course you have; every oneknows it."
"I rather think not," said the Knight, who was by no means sorry to turnMr. Dempsey from cross-examination into mere narrative.
"I 'll tell it to you; I am sure I ought to know it well, I 've heard myfather relate it something like a hundred times."
"I fear I must decline so pleasant a proposal," said Darcy, smiling. "Atthis moment I have an engagement."
"Never mind. To-morrow will do just as well," interrupted the inexorableDempsey. "Come over and take your mutton-chop with me at five, and youshall have the story into the bargain."
"I regret that I cannot accept so very tempting an invitation,"said Darcy, struggling between his sense of pride and a feeling ofastonishment at his companion's coolness.
"Not come to dinner!" exclaimed Dempsey, as if the thing was scarcelycredible. "Oh, very well, only remember"--and here he put an unusualgravity into his words--"only remember the _onus_ is now on you."
The Knight burst into a hearty laugh at this subtle retort, and, willingas he ever was to go with the humor of the moment, replied,--
"I am ready to accept it, sir, and beg that you will dine with me."
"When and where?" said Dempsey.
"To-morrow, at that cottage yonder: five is your hour, I believe--weshall say five."
"Booked!" exclaimed Dempsey, with an air of triumph; while he muttered,with a scarcely subdued voice, "Knew I'd do it!--never failed in mylife!"
"Till then, Mr. Dempsey," said Darcy, removing his hat courteously, ashe bowed to him,--"till then--"
"Your most obedient," replied Dempsey, returning the salute; and so theyparted.
"The Corvy," on the day after the Knight's visit to Port Ballintray, wasa scene of rather amusing bustle; the Knight's dinner-party, as Helenquizzingly called it, affording occupation for every member ofthe household. In former times, the only difficult details of anentertainment were in the selection of the guests,--bringing togethera company likely to be suitable to each other, and endowed with thosevarious qualities which make up the success of society; now, however,the question was the more material one,--the dinner itself.
It is always a fortunate thing when whatever absurdity our calamities inlife excite should be apparent only to ourselves. The laugh which isso difficult to bear from the world is then an actual relief from ourtroubles. The Darcys felt this truth, as each little embarrassment thatarose was food for mirth; and Lady Eleanor, who least of all could adaptherself to such contingencies, became as eager as the rest about thelittle preparations of the day.
While the Knight hurried hither and thither, giving directions here andinstructions there, he explained to Lady Eleanor some few circumstancesrespecting the character of his guests. It was, indeed, a new kind ofcompany he was about to present to his wife and daughter; but whileconscious of the disparity in every respect, he was not the less eagerto do the hospitalities of his humble house with all becoming honor. Itis true his invitation to Mr. Dempsey was rather forced from him thanwillingly accorded; he was about the very last kind of person Darcywould have asked to his table, if perfectly free to choose; but, of allmen living, the Knight knew least how to escape from a difficulty theoutlet to which should cost him any sacrifice of feeling.
"Well, well, it is but once and away; and, after all, the tal
kativenessof our little friend Dempsey will be so far a relief to poor Leonard,that he will be brought less prominently forward himself, and besuffered to escape unremarked,--a circumstance which, from all that Ican see, will afford him sincere pleasure."
At length all the preparations were happily accomplished: the emissarydespatched to Kilrush at daybreak had returned with a much-covetedturkey; the fisherman had succeeded in capturing a lordly salmon;oysters and lobsters poured in abundantly; and Mrs. M'Kerrigan, who hadbeen left as a fixture at "The Corvy," found her only embarrassment inselection from that profusion of "God's gifts," as she phrased it, thatnow surrounded her. The hour of five drew near, and the ladies wereseated in the hall, the doors of which lay open, as the two guests wereseen making their way towards the cottage.
"Here they come, papa," said Helen; "and now for a guess. Is not theshort man with the straw hat Mr. Dempsey, and his tall companion Mr.Leonard?"
"Of course it is," said Lady Eleanor; "who could mistake the garrulouspertinacity of that little thing that gesticulates at every step, or theplodding patience of his melancholy associate?"
The next moment the Knight was welcoming them in front of the cottage.The ceremony of introduction to the ladies being over, Mr. Dempsey, whoprobably was aware that the demands upon his descriptive powers wouldnot be inconsiderable when he returned to "Mother Fum's," put his glassto his eye, and commenced a very close scrutiny of the apartment and itscontents.
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"Quite a show-box, by Jove!" said he, at last, as he peered through aglass cabinet, where Chinese slippers, with models in ivory and carvingsin box, were heaped promiscuously together; "upon my word, sir, youhave a very remarkable collection. And who may be our friend in the boathere?" added he, turning to the grim visage of Bagenal Daly himself,who stared with a bold effrontery that would not have disgraced theoriginal.
"The gentleman you see there," said the Knight, "is the collectorhimself, and the other is his servant. They are represented in thecostumes in which they made their escape from a captivity among the redmen."
"Begad!" said Dempsey, "that fellow with the tortoise painted on hisforehead has a look of our old friend, Miss Daly; should n't wonder ifhe was a member of her family."
"You have well guessed it; he is the lady's brother."
"Ah, ah!" muttered Dempsey to himself, "always thought there wassomething odd about her,--never suspected Indian blood, however. HowMother Fum will stare when I tell her she's a Squaw! Didn't theyshow these things at the Rooms in Mary's Street? I think I saw themadvertised in the papers."
"I think you must mistake," said the Knight; "they are the privatecollection of my friend."
"And where may Woc-woc--confound his name!--the 'Howling Wind,' as he ispleased to call himself, be passing his leisure hours just now?"
"He is at present in Dublin, sir; and if you desire, he shall be madeaware of your polite inquiries."
"No, no--hang it, no!--don't like the look of him. Should have noobjection, though, if he 'd pay old Bob Dempsey a visit, and frightenhim out of this world for me."
"Dinner, my lady," said old Tate, as he threw open the doors into thedining-room, and bowed with all his accustomed solemnity.
"Hum!" muttered Dempsey, "my lady won't go down with me,-too old asoldier for that!"
"Will you give my daughter your arm?" said the Knight to the little man,for already Lady Eleanor had passed on with Mr. Leonard.
As Mr. Dempsey arranged his napkin on his knee, he endeavored to catchLeonard's eye, and telegraph to him his astonishment at the elegance ofthe table equipage which graced the board. Poor Leonard, however, seldomlooked up; a deep sense of shame, the agonizing memory of what he oncewas, recalled vividly by the sight of those objects, and the appearanceof persons which reminded him of his past condition, almost stunned him.The whole seemed like a dream; even though intemperance had degradedhim, there were intervals in which his mind, clear to see and reflect,sorrowed deeply over his fallen state. Had the Knight met him with acold and repulsive deportment, or had he refused to acknowledge himaltogether, he could better have borne it than all the kindness of hispresent manner. It was evident, too, from Lady Eleanor's tone to him,that she knew nothing of his unhappy fortune, or that if she did,the delicacy with which she treated him was only the more benevolent.Oppressed by such emotions, he sat endeavoring to eat, and trying tolisten and interest himself in the conversation around him; but theeffort was too much for his strength, and a vague, half-whisperedassent, or a dull, unmeaning smile, were about as much as he couldcontribute to what was passing.
The Knight, whose tact was rarely at fault, saw every straggle that waspassing in Leonard's mind, and adroitly contrived that the conversationshould be carried on without any demand upon him, either as talker orlistener. If Lady Eleanor and Helen contributed their aid to this end,Mr. Dempsey was not backward on his part, for he talked unceasingly.The good things of the table, to which he did ample justice, affordedan opportunity for catechizing the ladies in their skill in householdmatters; and Miss Darcy, who seemed immensely amused by the novelty ofsuch a character, sustained her part to admiration, entering deeply intoculinary details, and communicating receipts invented for the occasion.At another time, perhaps, the Knight would have checked the spirit of_persiflage_ in which his daughter indulged; but he suffered it now totake its course, well pleased that the mark of her ridicule was not onlyworthy of the sarcasm, but insensible to its arrow.
"Quite right,-quite right not to try Mother Fum's when you can get up alittle thing like this,-and such capital sherry; look how Tom takes itin,-slips like oil over his lip!"
Leonard looked up. An expression of rebuking severity for a momentcrossed his features; but his eyes fell the next instant, and a low,faint sigh escaped him.
"I ought to know what sherry is,--'Dodd and Dempsey's' was the greathouse for sherry."
"By the way," said the Knight, "did not you promise me a littlenarrative of Dodd and Dempsey, when we parted yesterday?"
"To be sure, I did. Will you have it now?"
Lady Eleanor and Helen rose to withdraw; but Mr. Dempsey, who took themovement as significant, immediately interposed, by saying,--
"Don't stir, ma'am,-sit down, ladies, I beg; there's nothing broad inthe story,--it might be told before the maids of honor."
Lady Eleanor and Helen were thunderstruck at the explanation, and theKnight laughed till the tears came.
"My dear Eleanor," said he, "you really must accept Mr. Dempsey'sassurance, and listen to his story now."
The ladies took their seats once more, and Mr. Dempsey, having filledhis glass, drank off a bumper; but whether it was that the narrativeitself demanded a greater exertion at his hands, or that the coldquietude of Lady Eleanor's manner abashed him, but he found a secondbumper necessary before he commenced his task.
"I say," whispered he to the Knight, "couldn't you get that decanter outof Leonard's reach before I begin? He'll not leave a drop in it while Iam talking."
As if he felt that, after his explanation, the tale should be moreparticularly addressed to Lady Eleanor, he turned his chair round so asto face her, and thus began:--
"There was once upon a time, ma'am, a Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland who wasa Duke. Whether he was Duke of Rutland, or Bedford, or Portland, or anyother title it was he had, my memory does n't serve me; it is enough,however, if I say he was immensely rich, and, like many other people inthe same way, immensely in debt. The story goes that he never travelledthrough England, and caught sight of a handsome place, or fine domain,or a beautiful cottage, that he did n't go straightway to the owner andbuy it down out of the face, as a body might say, whether he would orno. And so in time it came to pass that there was scarcely a county inEngland without some magnificent house belonging to him. In many partsof Scotland he had them too, and in all probability he would have donethe same in Ireland, if he could. Well, ma'am, there never was suchrejoicings as Dublin saw the night his Grace arrived to be our Viceroy.To know that w
e had got a man with one hundred and fifty thousand ayear, and a spirit to spend double the money, was a downright blessingfrom Providence, and there was no saying what might not be theprosperity of Ireland under so auspicious a ruler.
"To do him justice, he did n't balk public expectation. Open house atthe Castle, ditto at the Lodge in the Park, a mansion full of guests inthe county Wicklow, a pack of hounds in Kildare, twelve horses trainingat the Curragh, a yacht like a little man-of-war in Dunleary harbor,large subscriptions to everything like sport, and a pension for life toevery man that could sing a jolly song, or write a witty bit of poetry.Well, ma'am, they say, who remember those days, that they saw the bestof Ireland; and surely I believe, if his Grace had only lived, and hadhis own way, the peerage would have been as pleasant, and the bench ofbishops as droll, and the ladies of honor as--Well, never mind, I 'llpass on." Here Mr. Dempsey, to console himself for the abruptness of hispause, poured out and drank another bumper of sherry. "Pleasant timesthey were." said he, smacking his lips; "and faith, if Tom Leonardhimself was alive then, the color of his nose might have made himCommander of the Forces; but, to continue, it was Dodd and Dempsey'shouse supplied the sherry,-only the sherry, ma'am; old Stewart, ofBelfast, had the port, and Kinnahan the claret and lighter liquors. Imay mention, by the way, that my grandfather's contract included brandy,and that he would n't have given it up for either of the other two. Itwas just about this time that Dodd died, and my grandfather was leftalone in the firm; but whether it was out of respect for his latepartner, or that he might have felt himself lonely, but he always keptup the name of Dodd on the brass plate, and signed the name along withhis own; indeed, they say that he once saluted his wife by the name ofMrs. Dodd and Dempsey. But, as I was saying, it was one of those dayswhen my grandfather was seated on a high stool in the back office ofhis house in Abbey Street, that a fine, tall young fellow, with a bluefrock-coat, all braided with gold, and an elegant cocked-hat, witha plume of feathers in it, came tramping into the room, his spursjingling, and his brass sabre clinking, and his sabretash banging at hislegs.
"'Mr. Dempsey?' said he.
"'D. and D.,' said my grandfather,--'that is, Dodd and Dempsey, yourGrace,' for he half suspected it was the Duke himself.
"'I am Captain M'Claverty, of the Scots Greys,' said he, 'firstaide-de-camp to his Excellency.'
"'I hope you may live to be colonel of the regiment,' said mygrandfather, for he was as polite and well-bred as any man in Ireland.
"'That's too good a sentiment,' said the captain, 'not to be pledged ina glass of your own sherry.'
"'And we'll do it too,' said old Dempsey. And he opened the desk, andtook out a bottle he had for his own private drinking, and uncorked itwith a little pocket corkscrew he always carried about with him, and heproduced two glasses, and he and the captain hobnobbed and drank to eachother.
"'Begad!' said the captain, 'his Grace sent me to thank you for thedelicious wine you supplied him with, but it's nothing to this,---not tobe compared to it.'
"'I 've better again,' said my grandfather. 'I 've wine that would bringthe tears into your eyes when you saw the decanter getting low.'
"The captain stared at him, and maybe it was that the speech was toomuch for his nerves, but he drank off two glasses one after the other asquick as he could fill them out.
"'Dempsey,' said he, looking round cautiously, 'are we alone?'
"'We are,' said my grandfather.
"'Tell me, then,' said M'Claverty, 'how could his Grace get a taste ofthis real sherry--for himself alone, I mean? Of course, I never thoughtof his giving it to the Judges, and old Lord Dunboyne, and such like.'
"'Does he ever take a little sup in his own room, of an evening?'
"'I am afraid not, but I 'll tell you how I think it might be managed.You 're a snug fellow, Dempsey, you 've plenty of money muddling away inthe bank at three-and-a-half per cent; could n't you contrive, some wayor other, to get into his Excellency's confidence, and lend him ten orfifteen thousand or so?'
"'Ay, or twenty,' said my grandfather,--'or twenty, if he likes it'
"'I doubt if he would accept such a sum,' said the captain, shaking hishead; 'he has bags of money rolling in upon him every week or fortnight;sometimes we don't know where to put them.'
"'Oh, of course,' said my grandfather; 'I meant no offence, I only saidtwenty, because, if his Grace would condescend, it is n't twenty, but afifty thousand I could give him, and on the nail too.'
"'You're a fine fellow, Dempsey, a devilish fine fellow; you 're thevery kind of fellow the Duke likes,--open-handed, frank, and generous.'
"'Do you really think he'd like me?' said my grandfather; and he rockedon the high stool, so that it nearly came down.
"'Like you! I'll tell you what it is,' said he, laying his hand on mygrandfather's knee, 'before one week was over, he could n't do withoutyou. You 'd be there morning, noon, and night; your knife and forkalways ready for you, just like one of the family.'
"'Blood alive!' said my grandfather, 'do you tell me so?'
"'I 'll bet you a hundred pounds on it, sir.'
"'Done,' said my grandfather, 'and you must hold the stakes;' and withthat he opened his black pocket-book, and put a note for the amount intothe captain's hand.
"'This is the 31st of March,' said the captain, taking out his penciland tablets. 'I 'll just book the bet.'
"And, indeed," added Mr. Dempsey, "for that matter, if it was a daylater it would have been only more suitable.
"Well, ma'am, what passed between them afterwards I never heard said;but the captain took his leave, and left my grandfather so delighted andoverjoyed that he finished all the sherry in the drawer, and when thehead clerk came in to ask for an invoice, or a thing of the kind, hefound old Mr. Dempsey with his wig on the high stool, and he bowinground it, and calling it your Grace. There 's no denying it, ma'am, hewas blind drunk.
"About ten days or a fortnight after this time, my grandfather receiveda note from Teesum and Twist, the solicitors, stating that the draftor the bond was already drawn up for the loan he was about to make hisGrace, and begging to know to whom it was to be submitted.
"'The captain will win his bet, devil a lie in it,' said my grandfather;'he's going to bring the Duke and myself together.'
"Well, ma'am, I won't bother you with the law business, though if myfather was telling the story he would not spare you one item of itall,--who read this, and who signed the other, and the objections thatwas made by them thieving attorneys! and how the Solicitor-Generalstruck out this and put in that clause; but to tell you the truth,ma'am, I think that all the details spoil, what we may call, the poetryof the narrative; it is finer to say he paid the money, and the Dukepocketed it.
"Well, weeks went over and months long, and not a bit of the Duke didmy grandfather see, nor M'Claverty either; he never came near him. To besure, his Grace drank as much sherry as ever; indeed, I believe out oflove to my grandfather they drank little else. From the bishops and thechaplain, down to the battle-axe guards, it was sherry, morning, noon,and night; and though this was very pleasing to my grandfather, he wasalways wishing for the time when he was to be presented to his Grace,and their friendship was to begin. My grandfather could think of nothingelse, daylight and dark. When he walked, he was always repeating tohimself what his Grace might say to him, and what he would say to hisGrace; and he was perpetually going up at eleven o'clock, when the guardwas relieved in the Castle-yard, suspecting that every now and thena footman in blue and silver would come out, and, touching his elbow,whisper in his ear, 'Mr. Dempsey, the Duke 's waiting for you.' But, mydear ma'am, he might have waited till now, if Providence had spared him,and the devil a taste of the same message would ever have come near him,or a sight of the same footman in blue! It was neither more nor lessthan a delusion, or an illusion, or a confusion, or whatever the name ofit is. At last, ma'am, in one of his prowlings about the Phoenix Park,who does he come on but M'Claverty? He was riding past in a great hurry;but he pulled
up when he saw my grandfather, and called out, 'Hang it!who's this? I ought to know _you_.'
"'Indeed you ought,' said my grandfather. 'I 'm Dodd and Dempsey, andby the same token there's a little bet between us, and I 'd like to knowwho won and who lost.'
"'I think there's small doubt about that,' said the captain. 'Did n'this Grace borrow twenty thousand of you?'
"'He did, no doubt of it.'
"'And was n't it _my_ doing?'
"'Upon my conscience, I can't deny it.'
"'Well, then, I won the wager, that's clear.'
"'Oh! I see now,' said my grandfather; 'that was the wager, was it? Oh,bedad! I think you might have given me odds, if that was our bet.'
"'Why, what did you think it was?'
"'Oh, nothing at all, sir. It's no matter now; it was another thingwas passing in my mind. I was hoping to have the honor of making hisacquaintance, nattered as I was by all you told me about him.'
"'Ah! that's difficult, I confess,' said the captain; 'but still onemight do something. He wants a little money just now. If you could makeinterest to be the lender, I would n't say that what you suggest isimpossible.'
"Well, ma'am, it was just as it happened before; the old story,--moreparchment, more comparing of deeds, a heavy check on the bank for theamount.
"When it was all done, M'Claverty came in one morning and in plainclothes to my grandfather's back office.
"'Dodd and Dempsey,' said he, 'I 've been thinking over your business,and I'll tell you what my plan is. Old Vereker, the chamberlain, islittle better than a beast, thinks nothing of anybody that is n't alord or a viscount, and, in fact, if he had his will, the Lodge in thePhoenix would be more like Pekin in Tartary than anything else? butI 'll tell you, if he won't present you at the levee, which he flatlyrefuses at present, I 'll do the thing in a way of my own. His Grace isgoing to spend a week up at Ballyriggan House, in the county of Wicklow,and I 'll contrive it, when he 's taking his morning walk through theshrubbery, to present you. All you 've to do is to be ready at a turn ofthe walk. I 'll show you the place, you 'll hear his foot on the gravel,and you 'll slip out, just this way. Leave the rest to me.'
"'It's beautiful,' said my grandfather. 'Begad, that's elegant.'
"'There 's one difficulty,' said M'Claverty,--'one infernal difficulty.'
"'What's that?' asked my grandfather.
"'I may be obliged to be out of the way. I lost five fifties at Daly'sthe other night, and I may have to cross the water for a few weeks.'
"'Don't let that trouble you,' said my grandfather; 'there's the paper.'And he put the little bit of music into his hand; and sure enough apleasanter sound than the same crisp squeak of a new note no man everlistened to.
"'It 's agreed upon now?' said my grandfather.
"'All right,' said M'Claverty; and with a jolly slap on the shoulder, hesaid, 'Good-morning, D. and D. and away he went.
"He was true to his word. That day three weeks my grandfather receiveda note in pencil; it was signed J. M'C, and ran thus: 'Be up atBallyriggan at eleven o'clock on Wednesday, and wait at the foot of thehill, near the birch copse, beside the wooden bridge. Keep the leftof the path, and lie still.' Begad, ma'am, it's well nobody saw it buthimself, or they might have thought that Dodd and Dempsey was turnedhighwayman.
"My grandfather was prouder of the same note, and happier that morning,than if it was an order for fifty butts of sherry. He read it over andover, and he walked up and down the little back office, picturingout the whole scene, settling the chairs till he made a little avenuebetween them, and practising the way he 'd slip out slyly and surprisehis Grace. No doubt, it would have been as good as a play to have lookedat him.
"One difficulty preyed upon his mind,--what dress ought he to wear?Should he be in a court suit, or ought he rather to go in his robes asan alderman? It would never do to appear in a black coat, a light grayspencer, punch-colored shorts and gaiters, white hat with a strip ofblack crape on it,--mere Dodd and Dempsey! That wasn't to be thought of.If he could only ask his friend M'Hale, the fishmonger, who was knightedlast year, he could tell all about it. M'Hale, however, would blab. He'd tell it to the whole livery; every alderman of Skinner's Alley wouldknow it in a week. No, no, the whole must be managed discreetly; it wasa mutual confidence between the Duke and 'D. and D.' 'At all events,'said my grandfather, 'a court dress is a safe thing;' and out he wentand bespoke one, to be sent home that evening, for he could n't resttill he tried it on, and felt how he could move his head in the straightcollar, and bow, without the sword tripping him up and pitching him intothe Duke. I 've heard my father say that in the days that elapsed tillthe time mentioned for the interview, my grandfather lost two stone inweight. He walked half over the county Dublin, lying in ambush in everylittle wood he could see, and jumping out whenever he could see orhear any one coming,--little surprises which were sometimes taken aspractical jokes, very unbecoming a man of his age and appearance.
"Well, ma'am, Wednesday morning came, and at six o'clock my grandfatherwas on the way to Ballyriggan, and at nine he was in the wood, postedat the very spot M'Claverty told him, as happy as any man could be whoseexpectations were so overwhelming. A long hour passed over, and another;nobody passed but a baker's boy with a bull-dog after him, and an oldwoman that was stealing brushwood in the shrubbery. My grandfatherremarked her well, and determined to tell his Grace of it; but his ownbusiness soon drove that out of his head, for eleven o'clock came, andnow there was no knowing the moment the Duke might appear. With hiswatch in his hand, he counted the minutes, ay, even the seconds; if hewas a thief going to be hanged, and looking out over the heads of thecrowd for a fellow to gallop in with a reprieve, he could n't havesuffered more: his heart was in his mouth. At last, it might be abouthalf-past eleven, he heard a footstep on the gravel, and then a loud,deep cough,--'a fine kind of cough,' my grandfather afterwards calledit. He peeped out; and there, sure enough, at about sixty paces, comingdown the walk, was a large, grand-looking man,--not that he was dressedas became him, for, strange as you may think it, the Lord-Lieutenant hadon a shooting-jacket, and a pair of plaid trousers, and cloth boots, anda big lump of a stick in his hand,--and lucky it was that my grandfatherknew him, for he bought a picture of him. On he came nearer and nearer;every step on the gravel-walk drove out of my grandfather's head halfa dozen of the fine things he had got off by heart to say during theinterview, until at last he was so overcome by joy, anxiety, and a kindof terror, that he could n't tell where he was, or what was going tohappen to him, but he had a kind of instinct that reminded him he was tojump out when the Duke was near him; and 'pon my conscience so he did,clean and clever, into the middle of the walk, right in front of hisGrace. My grandfather used to say, in telling the story, that heverily believed his feelings at that moment would have made him burst ablood-vessel if it wasn't that the Duke put his hands to his sides andlaughed till the woods rang again; but, between shame and fright, mygrandfather did n't join in the laugh.
"'In Heaven's name!' said his Grace, 'who or what are you?--this isn'tMay-day.'
"My grandfather took this speech as a rebuke for standing so bold in hisGrace's presence; and being a shrewd man, and never deficient in tact,what does he do but drops down on his two knees before him? 'My Lord,'said he, 'I am only Dodd and Dempsey.'
"Whatever there was droll about the same house of Dodd and Dempsey Inever heard, but his Grace laughed now till he had to lean against atree. 'Well, Dodd and Dempsey, if that's your name, get up. I don't meanyou any harm. Take courage, man; I am not going to knight you. By theway, are you not the worthy gentleman who lent me a trifle of twentythousand more than once?'
"My grandfather could n't speak, but he moved his lips, and he moved hisbands, this way, as though to say the honor was too great for him, butit was all true.
"'Well, Dodd and Dempsey, I 've a very high respect for you,' said hisGrace; 'I intend, some of these fine days, when business permits, to goover and eat an oyster at your villa on the coast.'
"The first thing my grandfather did when he got back to town was toremember that he had no villa on the sea-coast, nor any more suitableplace to eat an oyster than his house in Abbey Street, for he could n'task his Grace to go to 'Killeen's.' Accordingly he set out the next dayin search of a villa, and before a week was over he had as beautifula place about a mile below Howth as ever was looked at; and that hemightn't be taken short, he took a lease of two oyster-beds, and madeevery preparation in life for the Duke's visit. He might have sparedhimself the trouble. Whether it was that somebody had said somethingof him behind his back, or that politics were weighing on the Duke'smind,--the Catholics were mighty troublesome then,--or, indeed, that heforgot it altogether, clean, but so it was, my grandfather never heardmore of the visit, and if the oysters waited for his Grace to come andeat them, they might have filled up Howth harbor.
"A year passed over, and my grandfather was taking his solitary walk inthe Park, very nearly in the same place as before,--for you see, ma'am,he could n't bear the sight of the seacoast, and the very smell ofshell-fish made him ill,--when somebody called out his name. He lookedup, and there was M'Claverty in a gig.
"'Well, D. and D., how goes the world with you?'
"'Very badly indeed,' says my grandfather; his heart was full, and hejust told him the whole story.
"'I'll settle it all,' said the captain; 'leave it to me. There 's tobe a review to-morrow in the Park; get on the back of the best horse youcan find,--the Duke is a capital judge of a nag,--ride him briskly aboutthe field; he 'll notice you, never fear; the whole thing will come upbefore his memory, and you 'll have him to breakfast before the week'sover.'
"'Do you think so?--do you really think so?'
"'I 'll take my oath of it. I say, D. and D., could you do a littlething at a short date just now?'
"'If it was n't too heavy,' said my grandfather, with a faint sigh.
"'Only a hundred.'
"'Well,' said he, 'you may send it down to the office. Good-bye.' Andwith that he turned back towards town again; not to go home, however,for he knew well there was no time to lose, but straight he goes toDycer's,--it was old Tom was alive in those days, and a shrewder manthan Tom Dycer there never lived. They tell you, ma'am, there 's chapsin London that if you send them your height, and your width, and yourgirth round the waist, they 'll make you a suit of clothes that willfit you like your own skin; but, 'pon my conscience, I believe if you'd give your age and the color of your hair to old Tom Dycer, he couldprovide you a horse the very thing to carry you. Whenever a strangerused to come into the yard, Tom would throw a look at him, out of thecorner of his eye,--for he had only one, there was a feather on theother,--Tom would throw a look at him, and he'd shout out, 'Bring out42; take out that brown mare with the white fetlocks.' That's the way hehad of doing business, and the odds were five to one but the gentlemanrode out half an hour after on the beast Tom intended for him. Thissuited my grandfather's knuckle well; for when he told him that it wasa horse to ride before the Lord-Lieutenant he wanted, 'Bedad,' says Tom,'I'll give you one you might ride before the Emperor of Chaney.--Here,Dennis, trot out 176.' To all appearance, ma'am, 176 was no commonbeast, for every man in the yard, big and little, set off, when theyheard the order, down to the stall where he stood, and at last two doorswere flung wide open, and out he came with a man leading him. He wasseventeen hands two if he was an inch, bright gray, with flea-bittenmarks all over him; he held his head up so high at one end, and his tailat the other, that my grandfather said he 'd have frightened thestoutest fox-hunter to look at him; besides, my dear, he went with hisknees in his mouth when he trotted, and gave a skelp of his hind legs atevery stride, that it was n't safe to be within four yards of him.
"'There's action!' says Tom,--'there 's bone and figure! Quiet as alamb, without stain or blemish, warranted in every harness, and to carrya lady.'
"'I wish he 'd carry a wine-merchant safe for about one hour and ahalf,' said my grandfather to himself. 'What's his price?'
"But Tom would n't mind him, for he was going on reciting the animal'sperfections, and telling him how he was bred out of Kick the Moon,by Moll Flanders, and that Lord Dunraile himself only parted with himbecause he did n't think him showy enough for a charger. 'Though, to besure,' said Tom, 'he's greatly improved since that. Will you try him inthe school, Mr. Dempsey?' said he; 'not but I tell you that you 'll findhim a little mettlesome or so there; take him on the grass, and he'sgentleness itself,--he's a kid, that's what he is.'
"'And his price?' said my grandfather.
"Dycer whispered something in his ear.
"'Blood alive!' said my grandfather.
"'Devil a farthing less. Do you think you 're to get beauty and action,ay, and gentle temper, for nothing?'
"My dear, the last words, 'gentle temper,' wasn't well out of his mouthwhen 'the kid' put his two hind-legs into the little pulpit where theauctioneer was sitting, and sent him flying through the window behindhim into the stall.
"'That comes of tickling him,' said Tom; 'them blackguards never willlet a horse alone.'
"'I hope you don't let any of them go out to the reviews in the Park,for I declare to Heaven, if I was on his back then, Dodd and Dempseywould be D. D. sure enough.'
"'With a large snaffle, and the saddle well back,' says Tom, 'he's alamb.'
"'God grant it,' says my grandfather; 'send him over to me to-morrow,about eleven.' He gave a check for the money,--we never heard how muchit was,--and away he went.
"That must have been a melancholy evening for him, for he sent for oldRogers, the attorney, and after he was measured for breeches and boots,he made his will and disposed of his effects, 'For there's no knowing,'said he, 'what 176 may do for me.' Rogers did his best to persuade himoff the excursion,--
"'Dress up one of Dycer's fellows like you; let him go by theLord-Lieutenant prancing and rearing, and then you yourself can appearon the ground, all splashed and spurred, half an hour after.'
"'No,' says my grandfather, 'I 'll go myself.'
"For so it is, there 's no denying, when a man has got ambition in hisheart it puts pluck there. Well, eleven o'clock came, and the whole ofAbbey Street was on foot to see my grandfather; there was n't a windowhad n't five or six faces in it, and every blackguard in the town wasthere to see him go off, just as if it was a show.
"'Bad luck to them,' says my grandfather; 'I wish they had brought thehorse round to the stable-yard, and let me get up in peace.'
"And he was right there,--for the stirrup, when my grandfather stoodbeside the horse, was exactly even with his chin; but somehow, with thehelp of the two clerks and the book-keeper and the office stool, he gotup on his back with as merry a cheer as ever rung out to welcome him,while a dirty blackguard, with two old pocket-handkerchiefs for a pairof breeches, shouted out, 'Old Dempsey's going to get an appetite forthe oysters!'
"Considering everything, 176 behaved very well; he did n't plunge, andhe did n't kick, and my grandfather said, 'Providence was kind enoughnot to let him rear!' but somehow he wouldn't go straight but sideways,and kept lashing his long tail on my grandfather's legs and sometimesround his body, in a way that terrified him greatly, till he became usedto it.
"'Well, if riding be a pleasure,' says my grandfather, 'people must bemade different from me.'
"For, saving your favor, ma'am, he was as raw as a griskin, and therewas n't a bit of him the size of a half-crown he could sit on without acry-o
ut; and no other pace would the beast go but this little jig-jig,from side to side, while he was tossing his head and flinging his maneabout, just as if to say, 'Could n't I pitch you sky-high if I liked?Could n't I make a Congreve-rocket of you, Dodd and Dempsey?'
"When he got on the 'Fifteen Acres,' it was only the position he foundhimself in that destroyed the grandeur of the scene; for there werefifty thousand people assembled at least, and there was a line ofinfantry of two miles long, and the artillery was drawn up at one end,and the cavalry stood beyond them, stretching away towards Knockmaroon.
"My grandfather was now getting accustomed to his sufferings, and hefelt that, if 176 did no more, with God's help he could bear it for oneday; and so he rode on quietly outside the crowd, attracting, of course,a fair share of observation, for he wasn't always in the saddle, butsometimes a little behind or before it. Well, at last there came a cloudof dust, rising at the far end of the field, and it got thicker andthicker, and then it broke, and there were white plumes dancing, andgold glittering, and horses all shaking their gorgeous trappings, for itwas the staff was galloping up, and then there burst out a greatcheer, so loud that nothing seemed possible to be louder, untilbang--bang--bang, eighteen large guns went thundering together, and thewhole line of infantry let off a clattering volley, till you 'd thinkthe earth was crashing open.
"'Devil's luck to ye all! couldn't you be quiet a little longer?' saysD. and D., for he was trying to get an easy posture to sit in; but justat this moment 176 pricked up his ears, made three bounds in the air,as if something lifted him up, shook his head like a fish, and awayhe went: wasn't it wonderful that my grandfather kept his seat? Heremembers, he says, that at each bound he was a yard over his back; butas he was a heavy man, and kept his legs open, he had the luck to comedown in the same place, and a sore place it must have been! for he leta screech out of him each time that would have pierced the heart ofa stone. He knew very little more what happened, except that he wasgalloping away somewhere, until at last he found himself in a crowdof people, half dead with fatigue and fright, and the horse thick withfoam.
"'Where am I?' says my grandfather.
"'You 're in Lucan, sir,' says a man.
"'And where 's the review?' says my grandfather.
"'Five miles behind you, sir.'
"'Blessed Heaven!' says he; 'and where 's the Duke?'
"'God knows,' said the man, giving a wink to the crowd, for they thoughthe was mad.
"'Won't you get off and take some refreshment?' says the man, for he wasthe owner of a little public.
"'Get off!' says my grandfather; 'it's easy talking! I found it hardenough to get on. Bring me a pint of porter where I am.' And so hedrained off the liquor, and he wiped his face, and he turned the beast'shead once more towards town.
"When my grandfather reached the Park again, he was, as you may wellbelieve, a tired and a weary man; and, indeed, for that matter, thebeast did n't seem much fresher than himself, for he lashed his sidesmore rarely, and he condescended to go straight, and he didn't carry hishead higher than his rider's. At last they wound their way up throughthe fir copse at the end of the field, and caught sight of the review,and, to be sure, if poor D. and D. left the ground before under a grandsalute of artillery and small arms, another of the same kind welcomedhim back again. It was an honor he 'd have been right glad to havedispensed with, for when 176 heard it, he looked about him to see whichway he 'd take, gave a loud neigh, and, with a shake that my grandfathersaid he 'd never forget, he plunged forward, and went straight at thethick of the crowd; it must have been a cruel sight to have seen thepeople running for their lives. The soldiers that kept the line laughedheartily at the mob; but they hadn't the joke long to themselves, for mygrandfather went slap at them into the middle of the field; and he didthat day what I hear has been very seldom done by cavalry,--he brokea square of the Seventy-ninth Highlanders, and scattered them over thefield.
061]
In truth, the beast must have been the devil himself; for wherever hesaw most people, it was there he always went. There were at this timethree heavy dragoons and four of the horse-police, with drawn swords, inpursuit of my grandfather; and if he were the enemy of the human race,the cries of the multitude could not have been louder, as one universalshout arose of 'Cut him down! Cleave him in two!' And, do you know, hesaid, afterwards, he 'd have taken it as a mercy of Providence if theyhad. Well, my dear, when he had broke through the Highlanders, scatteredthe mob, dispersed the band, and left a hole in the big drum you couldhave put your head through, 176 made for the staff, who, I may remark,were all this time enjoying the confusion immensely. When, however, theysaw my grandfather heading towards them, there was a general cry of'Here he comes! here he comes! Take care, your Grace!' And there aroseamong the group around the Duke a scene of plunging, kicking, andrearing, in the midst of which in dashed my grandfather. Down went anaide-de-camp on one side; 176 plunged, and off went the town-major atthe other; while a stroke of a sabre, kindly intended for mygrandfather's skull, came down on the horse's back and made him giveplunge the third, which shot his rider out of the saddle, and sent himflying through the air like a shell, till he alighted under the leadersof a carriage where the Duchess and the Ladies of Honor were seated.
"Twenty people jumped from their horses now to finish him; if they werebunting a rat, they could not have been more venomous.
"'Stop! stop!' said the Duke; 'he's a capital fellow, don't hurt him.Who are you, my brave little man? You ride like Chifney for the Derby.'
"'God knows who I am!' says my grandfather, creeping out, and wiping hisface. 'I was Dodd and Dempsey when I left home this morning; but I 'mbewitched, devil a lie in it.'
"'Dempsey, my Lord Duke,' said M'Claverty, coming up at the moment.'Don't you know him?' And he whispered a few words in his Grace's ear.
"'Oh, yes, to be sure,' said the Viceroy. 'They tell me you have acapital pack of hounds, Dempsey. What do you hunt?'
"'Horse, foot, and dragoons, my Lord,' said my grandfather; and, to besure, there was a jolly roar of laughter after the words, for poor D.and D. was just telling his mind, without meaning anything more.
"'Well, then,' said the Duke, 'if you 've always as good sport asto-day, you 've capital fun of it.'
"'Oh, delightful, indeed!' said my grandfather; 'never enjoyed myselfmore in my life.'
"'Where 's his horse?' said his Grace.
"'He jumped down into the sand-quarry and broke his neck, my Lord Duke.'
"'The heavens be praised!' said my grandfather; 'if it's true, I am asglad as if I got fifty pounds.'
"The trumpets now sounded for the cavalry to march past, and the Dukewas about to move away, when M'Claverty again whispered something in hisear.
"'Very true,' said he; 'well thought of. I say, Dempsey, I 'll go oversome of these mornings and have a run with your hounds.'
"My grandfather rubbed his eyes and looked up, but all he saw was abouttwenty staff-officers with their hats off; for every man of them salutedmy father as they passed, and the crowd made way for him with as muchrespect as if it was the Duke himself. He soon got a car to bring himhome, and notwithstanding all his sufferings that day, and the greatescape he had of his life, there wasn't as proud a man in Dublin ashimself.
"'He's coming to hunt with my hounds!' said he; ''t is n't to take anoyster and a glass of wine, and be off again!--no, he's coming down tospend the whole day with me.'
"The thought was ecstasy; it only had one drawback. Dodd and Dempsey'shouse had never kept hounds. Well, ma'am, I needn't detain you longabout what happened; it's enough if I say that in less than six weeks mygrandfather had bought up Lord Tyrawley's pack, and his hunting-box andhorses, and I believe his grooms; and though he never ventured on theback of a beast himself, he did nothing from morning to night but listenand talk about hunting, and try to get the names of the dogs by heart,and practise to cry 'Tally-ho!' and 'Stole away!' and 'Ho-ith! ho-ith!'with which, indeed, he used to start out of his sleep at ni
ght, so fullhe was of the sport. From the 1st of September he never had a red coatoff his back. 'Pon my conscience, I believe he went to bed in his spurs,for he did n't know what moment the Duke might be on him, and that's theway the time went on till spring; but not a sign of his Grace, not aword, not a hint that he ever thought more of his promise! Well, onemorning my grandfather was walking very sorrowfully down near theCurragh, where his hunting-lodge was, when he saw them roping-in thecourse for the races, and he heard the men talking of the magnificentcup the Duke was to give for the winner of the three-year-old stakes,and the thought flashed on him, 'I'll bring myself to his memory thatway.' And what does he do, but he goes back to the house and tells histrainer to go over to the racing-stables, and buy, not one, nor two, butthe three best horses that were entered for the race. Well, ma'am, theirengagements were very heavy, and he had to take them all on himself, andit cost him a sight of money. It happened that this time he was on theright scent, for down comes M'Claverty the same day with orders from theDuke to take the odds, right and left, on one of the three, a littlemare called Let-Me-Alone-Before-the-People; she was one of his ownbreeding, and he had a conceit out of her. Well, M'Claverty laid on themoney here and there, till he stood what between the Duke's bets and allthe officers of the staff and his own the heaviest winner or loser onthat race.
"'She's Martin's mare, is n't she?' said M'Claverty.
"'No, sir, she was bought this morning by Mr. Dempsey, of Tear FoxLodge.'
"'The devil she is,' said M'Claverty; and he jumped on his horse, and hecantered over to the Lodge.
"'Mr. Dempsey at home?' says he.
"'Yes, sir.'
"'Give him this card, and say, I beg the favor of seeing him for a fewmoments.'
"The man went off, and came back in a few minutes, with the answer, 'Mr.Dempsey is very sorry, but he 's engaged.'
"'Oh, oh! that's it!' says M'Claverty to himself; 'I see how the windblows. I say, my man, tell him I 've a message from his Grace theLord-Lieutenant.'
"Well, the answer came for the captain to send the message in, for mygrandfather could n't come out.
"'Say, it's impossible,' said M'Claverty; 'it's for his own privateear.'
"Dodd and Dempsey was strong in my grandfather that day: he would listento no terms.
"'No,' says he, 'if the goods are worth anything, they never comewithout an invoice. I 'll have nothing to say to him.'
"But the captain wasn't to be balked; for, in spite of everything, hepassed the servant, and came at once into the room where my grandfatherwas sitting,--ay, and before he could help it, was shaking him by bothhands as if he was his brother.
"'Why the devil didn't you let me in?' said he; 'I came from the Dukewith a message for you.'
"'Bother!' says my grandfather.
"'I did, though,' says he; 'he's got a heavy book on your little mare,and he wants you to make your boy ride a waiting race, and not win thefirst beat,--you understand?'
"'I do,' says my grandfather, 'perfectly; and he's got a deal of moneyon her, has he?'
"'He has,' said the captain; 'and every one at the Castle, too, high andlow, from the chief secretary down to the second coachman,--we are allbacking her.'
"'I am glad of it,--I am sincerely glad of it,' said my grandfather,rubbing his hands.
"'I knew you would be, old boy!' cried the captain, joyfully.
"'Ah, but you don't know why; you 'd never guess.'
"M'Claverty stared at him, but said nothing.
"'Well, I'll tell you,' resumed my grandfather; 'the reason is this:I 'll not let her run,--no, divil a step! I 'll bring her up to theground, and you may look at her, and see that she 's all sound and safe,in top condition, and with a skin like a looking-glass, and then I 'llwalk her back again! And do you know why I 'll do this?' said he, whilehis eyes flashed fire, and his lip trembled; 'just because I won'tsuffer the house of Dodd and Dempsey to be humbugged as if we weregreengrocers! Two years ago, it was to "eat an oyster with me;" lastyear it was a "day with my hounds;" maybe now his Grace would join therace dinner; but that's all past and gone,--I 'll stand it no longer.'
"'Confound it, man,' said the captain, 'the Duke must have forgotten it.You never reminded him of his engagement. He 'd have been delighted tohave come to you if he only recollected.'
"'I am sorry my memory was better than his,' said my grandfather, 'and Iwish you a very good morning.'
"'Oh, don't go; wait a moment; let us see if we can't put this matterstraight. You want the Duke to dine with you?'
"'No, I don't; I tell you I 've given it up.'
"'Well, well, perhaps so; will it do if you dine with him?'
"My grandfather had his hand on the lock,--he was just going,--he turnedround, and fixed his eyes on the captain.
"'Are you in earnest, or is this only more of the same game?' said he,sternly.
"'I'll make that very easy to you,' said the captain; 'I 'll bring theinvitation to you this night; the mare doesn't run till to-morrow; ifyou don't receive the card, the rest is in your own power.'
"Well, ma'am, my story is now soon told; that night, about nine o'clock,there comes a footman, all splashed and muddy, in a Castle livery, up tothe door of the Lodge, and he gave a violent pull at the bell, and whenthe servant opened the door, he called out in a loud voice, 'From hisExcellency the Lord-Lieutenant,' and into the saddle he jumped, andaway he was like lightning; and, sure enough, it was a large card, allprinted, except a word here and there, and it went something this way:--
"'I am commanded by his Excellency the Lord-Lieutenant to request thepleasure of Mr. Dempsey's company at dinner on Friday, the 23d instant,at the Lodge, Phoenix Park, at seven o'clock.
"'Granville Vereker, _Chamberlain_.
"'Swords and Bags.'
"'At last!' said my grandfather, and he wiped the tears from his eyes;for to say the truth, ma'am, it was a long chase without ever gettingonce a 'good view.' I must hurry on; the remainder is easy told.Let-Me-Alone-Before-the-People won the cup, my grandfather was chairedhome from the course in the evening, and kept open house at the Lodgefor all comers while the races lasted; and at length the eventful daydrew near on which he was to realize all his long-coveted ambition. Itwas on the very morning before, however, that he put on his Court suitfor about the twentieth time, and the tailor was standing tremblingbefore him while my grandfather complained of a wrinkle here or a puckerthere.
"'You see,' said he, 'you've run yourself so close that you 've no timenow to alter these things before the dinner.'
"'I 'll have time enough, sir,' says the man, 'if the news is true.'
"'What news?' says my grandfather, with a choking in his throat, for asudden fear came over him.
"'The news they have in town this morning.'
"'What is it?--speak it out, man!'
"'They say-- But sure you 've heard it, sir?'
"'Go on!' says my grandfather; and he got him by the shoulders and shookhim. 'Go on, or I'll strangle you!'
"'They say, sir, that the Ministry is out, and--'
"'And, well--'
"'And that the Lord-Lieutenant has resigned, and the yacht is cominground to Dunleary to take him away this evening, for he won't staylonger than the time to swear in the Lords Justices,--he's so glad to beout of Ireland.'
"My grandfather sat down on the chair, and began to cry, and well hemight, for not only was the news true, but he was ruined besides. Everyfarthing of the great fortune that Dodd and Dempsey made was lost andgone,--scattered to the winds; and when his affairs were wound up,he that was thought one of the richest men in Dublin was found to besomething like nine thousand pounds worse than nothing. Happily forhim, his mind was gone too, and though he lived a few years after, nearFinglass, he was always an innocent, didn't remember anybody, nor whohe was, but used to go about asking the people if they knew whether hisGrace the Lord-Lieutenant had put off his dinner-party for the 23d;and then he 'd pull out the old card to show them, for he kept it in alittle case
, and put it under his pillow every night till he died."
While Mr. Dempsey's narrative continued, Tom Leonard indulged freely andwithout restraint in the delights of the Knight's sherry, forgetting notonly all his griefs, but the very circumstances and people around him.Had the party maintained a conversational tone, it is probable that hewould have been able to adhere to the wise resolutions he had plannedfor his guidance on leaving home; unhappily, the length of the tale,the prosy monotony of the speaker's voice, the deepening twilight whichstole on ere the story drew to a close, were influences too strong forprudence so frail; an instinct told him that the decanter was closeby, and every glass he drained either drowned a care or stifled acompunction.
The pleasant buzz of voices which succeeded to the anecdote of Dodd andDempsey aroused Leonard from his dreary stupor. Wine and laughter andmerry voices were adjuncts he had not met for many a day before; and,strangely enough, the only emotions they could call up were some vague,visionary sorrowings over his fallen and degraded condition.
"By Jove!" said Dempsey, in a whisper to Darcy, "the lieutenant has moresympathy for my grandfather than I have myself,--I 'll be hanged if heis n't wiping his eyes! So you see, ma'am," added he, aloud, "it wasa taste for grandeur ruined the Dempseys; the same ambition that hasdestroyed states and kingdoms has brought your humble servant to atrifle of thirty-eight pounds four and nine per annum for all worldlycomforts and virtuous enjoyments; but, as the old ballad says,--
'Though classic 't is to show one's grief, And cry like Carthaginian Marius, I 'll not do this, nor ask relief, Like that ould beggar Belisarius.'
No, ma'am, 'Never give in while there's a score behind thedoor,'--that's the motto of the Dempseys. If it's not on theircoat-of-arms, it's written in their hearts."
"Your grandfather, however, did not seem to possess the family courage,"said the Knight, slyly.
"Well, and what would you have? Wasn't he brave enough for awine-merchant?"
"The ladies will give us some tea, Leonard," said the Knight, as LadyEleanor and her daughter had, some time before, slipped unobserved fromthe room.
"Yes, Colonel, always ready."
"That's the way with him," whispered Dempsey; "he'd swear black and bluethis minute that you commanded the regiment he served in. He very oftencalls me the quartermaster."
The party rose to join the ladies; and while Leonard maintained hisformer silence, Dempsey once more took on himself the burden of theconversation by various little anecdotes of the Fumbally household, andsketches of life and manners at Port Ballintray.
So perfectly at ease did he find himself, so inspired by the happyimpression he felt convinced he was making, that he volunteered a song,"if the young lady would only vouchsafe few chords on the piano" by wayof accompaniment,--a proposition Helen acceded to.
Thus passed the evening,--a period in which Lady
Eleanor more than once doubted if the whole were not a dream, and thepersons before her the mere creations of disordered fancy; an impressioncertainly not lessened as Mr. Dempsey's last words at parting conveyeda pressing invitation to a "little thing he 'd get up for them at MotherFinn's."