Complete Works of Bram Stoker

by Bram Stoker

  Andy’s simple, honest argument made me feel ashamed of the finer sophistries belonging to the more artificial existence of those of my own station.

  “Sure, yer ‘an’r, there isn’t a bhoy in Connaught that wouldn’t like to be shpoke of wid Miss Norah. She’s that good, that even the nuns in Galway, where she was at school, loves her and thrates her like wan iv themselves, for all she’s a Protestan’.”

  “My dear Andy,” said I, “don’t you think you’re a little hard on me? You’re putting me in the dock, and trying me for a series of offences that I never even thought of committing with regard to heroranyone else. Miss Norah may be an angel in petticoats, and I’m quite prepared to take it for granted that she is so; your word on the subject is quite enough for me. But just please to remember that I never set eyes on her in my life. The only time I was ever in her presence was when you were by yourself, and it was so dark that I could not see her, to help her when she fainted. Why, in the name of common-sense, you should keep holding her up to me, I do not understand.”

  “But yer’an’r said that it might do her harrum even to mintion her wid you.”

  “Oh, well, Andy, I give it up — it’s no use trying to explain. Either you wont understand, or I am unable to express myself properly.”

  “Surr, there can be only one harrum to a girrul from a gintleman” — he laid his hand on my arm, and said this impressively; whatever else he may have ever said injest, he was in grim earnest now — ”an’ that’s whin he’s a villain. Ye wouldn’t do the black thrick, and desave a girrul that thrusted ye?”

  “No, Andy, no! God forbid! I would rather go to the highest rock on some island there beyond, where the surf is loudest, and throw myself into the sea, than do such a thing. No, Andy; there are lots of men that hold such matters lightly, but Idon’tthink I’m one of them. Whatever sins I have, or may ever have upon my soul, I hope such a one as thatmW never be there.”

  All the comment Andy made was, “I thought so.” Then the habitual quizzical look stole over his face again, and he said:

  “There does be some that does fear braches iv promise. Mind ye, a man has to be mighty careful on the subiect, for some weemin is that cute there’s no bein’ up to them.”

  Andy’s sudden change to this new theme was a little embarrassing, since the idea leading to it — or rather preceding it — had been one purely personal to myself; but he was off, and I thought it better that he should go on.

  “Indeed!” said I. “Yes, surr. Oh my, but they’re cute. The first thing that a girrul does when a man looks twice at her, is t’ ask him to write her a letther, an’ thin she has him — tight.”

  “How so, Andy?” “Well, ye see, surr, when you’re writin’ a letther to a girrul, ye can’t begin widouta ‘My dear’ ora ‘Mydarlin’, an’ thin she has the grip iv the law onto ye! An’ ye do be badgered be the counsillors, an’ ye do be frowned at be the judge, an’ ye do be laughed at be the people, an’ ye do have to pay yer money, an’ there ye are!” “I say, Andy,” said I, “I think you must have been in trouble yourself in that way; you seem to have it all off pat.”

  “Oh, throth, not me, yer ‘an’r. Glory be to God! but I niver was a defindant in me life — an’ more betoken, I don’t want to be — but I was wance a witness in a case ivthe kind.”

  “And what did you witness?” “Faix, I was called to prove that I seen the gintleman’s arrum around the girrul’s waist. The counsillors made a deal out iv that — just as if it warn’t only manners to hould up a girrul on a car!”

  “What was the case, Andy? Tell me all about it.” I did not mind his waiting, as it gave me an excuse for stavinq on the top of the hill. I knew I could easily qet rid of him when she came — if she came — by sending him on a message.

  “Well, this was a young woman what had an action agin Shquire Murphy, iv Ballynashoughlin himself — a woman as was no more nor a mere simple governess!” It would be impossible to convey the depth of social unimportance conveyed by his tone and manner; and coming from a man of “shreds and patches,” it was more than comic. Andy had his good suit of frieze and homespun; but while he was on mountain duty, he spared these and appeared almost in the guise of a scarecrow.

  “Well, what happened?”

  “Faix, whin she tould hershtory the shquire’s councillor luked up at the jury, an’ he whispered a wurrd to the shquire and his ‘an’rwrote outa shlip iv paperan’ handed it to him, an’ the councillor ups an’ says he: ‘Me lard and gintlemin iv the jury, me client is prepared to have the honor iv the lady’s hand if she will so, for let by-gones be by-gones.’ An’, sure enough, theywas married on the Sunday next four weeks; an’ there she is nowdhrivin’ him about the counthry in her pony-shay, an’ all the quality comin’ to tay in the garden, an’ she as affable as iver to all the farmers round. Aye, an’ be the hokey, the shquire himself sez that it was a good day for him whin he sot eyes on her first, an’ that he don’t know why he was such a damn fool as iver to thry to say ‘no’ to her, or to wish it.”

  “Quite a tale with a moral, Andy. Bravo, Mrs. Murphy.”

  “A morial is it? Now, may I make bould to ask yer ‘an’r what morial ye take out iv it?”

  “The moral, Andy, that I see is, When you see the right woman go for herforall you’re worth, and thank God for giving you the chance.” Andyjumped up and gave me a great slap on the back. “Hurroo! more power to yer elbow! but it’s a bhoy afther me own h’arrty’ are. I big yer pardon, surr, for the liberty; but it’s mighty glad lam.”

  “Granted, Andy; I like a man to be hearty, and you certainlyare. But whyare you so glad about me?” “Because I like yer’an’r. Shure in all me life I niver see so much iv a young gentleman as I’ve done iv yer ‘an’r. Surr, I’m an ould man compared wid ye — I’m the beginnin’ iv wan, at any rate — an’ I’d like to give ye a wurrd iv advice; git marrid while ye can! I tell ye this, surr, it’s not whin the hair is beginnin’ to git thin on to the top ivyer head that a nice young girrul ‘ill love ye for yerself. It’s the people that goes all their lives makin’ moneyand lukin’ after all kinds iv things that’s no kind iv use to thim, that makes the mishtake. Suppose ye do git marrid when ye’re ould and bald, an’ yer legs is shaky, an’ ye want to be let sit close to the fire in the warrum corner, an’ ye’ve lashins iv money that ye don’t know what to do wid! Do you think that it’s thin that yer wives does be dhramin’ ivye all the time and worshippin’ the ground ye thrid? Not a bit iv it! They do be wantin’ — aye and thryin’ too — to help God away wid ye!” “Andy,” said I, “you preach, on a practical text, a sermon that any and every young man ought to hear.” I thought I saw an opening here for gaining some information, and at once jumped in.

  “By Jove! you set me off wishing to marry! Tell me, is there any pretty girl in this neighborhood that would suit a young man like me?” “Oho! begor, there’s girruls enough to shute any man.”

  “Aye, Andy — but pretty girls!” “Well surr, thatdepinds. Now what might be yer’anVs idea iva purtygirrul?” “My dear Andy, there are so many different kinds of prettiness that it is hard to say.” “Faix, an’ I’ll tell ye if there’s a girrul to shute in the counthry, for bedad I think I’ve seen thim all. But you must let me know what would shute ye best?” “How can I well tell that, Andy, when I don’t know myself? Show me the girl, and I’ll very soon tell you.” “Unless I was to ax yer’an’r questions;” this was said very slyly.

  “Go on, Andy; there is nothing like the Socratic method.” “Very well, thin; I’ll ax two kinds iv things, an’ yer’an’r will tell me which ye’d like the best.” “All right, go on.” “Long or short?” “Tall; not short, certainly.” “Fat or lane?”

  “Fie! fie! Andy, for shame; you talk as if they were cattle or pigs.”

  “Begor, there’s only wan kind ivfatan’ lane that I knows of; but avye like I’ll call it thick or thin; which is it?” “Not too fat, but certainly not skinny.” Andy held up his hands in mock horror: />
  “Yer ‘an’r shpakes as if ye was talkin’ iv powlthry.” “I mean, Andy,” said I, with a certain sense of shame, “she is not to be either too fat or too lean, as you put it.” “Ye mane ‘shtreakyT “Streaky!” said I, “what do you mean?” He answered promptly:

  “Shtreaky — thick an’ thin — like belly bacon.” I said nothing. I felt certain it would be useless and out of place. He went on: “Nixt, fair or dark?” “Dark, by all means.” “Dark be it, surr. What kind iveyes might she have?” “Ah! eyes like darkness on the bosom of the azure deep!”

  “Musha! but that’s a quare kind iveye fur a girrul to have intirely! Is she to be all dark, surr, or only the hair of her?” “I don’t mean a nigger, Andy!” I thought I would be even with him for once in a way. He laughed heartily. “Oh, my, but that’s a good wan. Be the hokey, a girrul can be dark enough fur any man widout bein’ a naygur. Glory be to God, but I niver seen a faymale naygur meself, but I suppose there’s such things; God’s very good to all his craythurs! But, barrin’ naygurs, must she be all dark?” “Well, not of necessity, but I certainly preferwhat we call a brunette.”

  “A bru-net. What’s that now? I’ve heerd a wheen o’ quare things in me time, but I niver heerd a woman called that before.”

  I tried to explain the term; he seemed to understand, but his only comment was: “Well, God is very good,” and then went on with his queries.

  “How might she be dressed?” he looked very sly as he asked the question. “Simply. The dress is not particular — that can easily be altered. For myself, just at present, I should like her in the dress they all wear here, some pretty kind of body and a red petticoat.” “Thrue for ye,” said Andy. Then he went over the list, ticking off the items on his fingers as he went along: “A long, dark girrul, like belly bakin, but not a naygur, some kind iva net, an’ wid a rid petticoat, an’ a quare kind iv an eye! Is that the kind iv a girrul that yer ‘an’r wants to set yer eyes on?”

  “Well,” said I, “item by item, as you explain them, Andy, the description is correct; but I must say that never in my life did I know a man to so knock the bottom out of romance as you have done in summing up the lady’s charms.” “Her charrums, is it? Be the powers! I only tuk what yer ‘an’r tould me. An” so that’s the girrul that id shute yer?” “Yes, Andy, I think she would.” I waited in expectation, but he said nothing. So I jogged his memory. “Well?” He looked at me in a most peculiar manner, and said, slowly and impressively: “Thin I can sahtisfy yer ‘an’r. There’s no such girrul in all Knocknacar!” I smiled a smile of triumph: “You’re wrong for once, Andy. I saw such a girl only yesterday, here on the top of this mountain, just where we’re sitting now.” Andyjumped up as if he had been sitting on an ant-hill, and had suddenly been made aware of it. He looked all round in a frightened way, but I could see that he was only acting, and said: “Glory be to God! but maybe it’s the fairies, it was, or the pixies! Shure, they do say that there’s lots an’ lots an’ lashins ivthem on this hill. Don’t ye have nothin’ to say to thim, surr! There’s only sorra follys thim. Take an ould man’s advice, an’ don’t come up here any more. The shpot is dangerous to ye. If ye want to see a fine girrul go to Shleenanaher, an’ have a good luk at Miss Norah in the daylight.”

  “Oh, bother Miss Norah!” said I. “Get along with you, do! I think you’ve got Miss Norah on the brain, or perhaps you’re in love with her yourself.” Andy murmured, sotto voce, but manifestly for me to hear: “Begor, I am, like the rist iv the bhoys, av course!” Here I looked at my watch, and found it was three o’clock, so thought it was time to get rid of him. “Here,” said I, “run down to the men at the cutting and tell them that I’m coming down presently to measure up their work, as Mr. Sutherland will want to know how they’ve got on.”

  Andy moved off. Before going, however, he had something to say, as usual: “Tell me, Misther Art” — this new name startled me, Andy had evidently taken me into his public family — ”do ye think Misther Dick” — this was another surprise — ”has an eve on Miss Norah?” There was a real shock this time. “I see him lukin’ at herwance or twice as if he’d like to ate her; but, bedad, it’s no use if he has, for she wouldn’t luk at him. No wondher, an’ him helpin’ to be takin’ her father’s houldin’ away from him.” I could not answer Andy’s question as to poor old Dick’s feelings, for such was his secret and not mine; but I determined not to let there be any misapprehension regarding his having a hand in Murdock’s dirty work, so I spoke hotly:

  “You tell any one that dares to say that Dick Sutherland has any act or part, good or bad, large or small, in that dirty ruffian’s dishonorable conduct, that he is either a knave or a fool, at any rate he is a liar. Dick is simply a man of science engaged by Murdock, as any other man of science might be, to look after some operations in regard to his bog.” Andy’s comment was made sotto voce, so I thought it better not to notice it.

  “Musha! but the bogs ivall kinds is gettin’ mixed up quarely. Here’s another iv them. Misther Dick is engaged to luk afther the bogs. An’ so he does, but his eyes goes wandherin’ among thim. There does be bogs ivall kinds now all over these parts. It’s quare times we’re in, or I’m gettin’ ould!”

  With this Parthian shaft Andy took himself down the hill, and presently I saw the good effects of his presence in stimulating the workmen to more ardent endeavours, for they all leaned on their spades while he told them a long story, which ended in a tumult of laughter. I might have enjoyed the man’s fun, but I was in no laughing humor. I had got anxious long ago because she had not visited the hill-top. I looked all round, but could see no sign of her anywhere. I waited and waited, and the time truly went on leaden wings. The afternoon sun smote the hill-top with its glare, more oppressive always than even the noontide heat. I lingered on and lingered still, and hope died within me. When six o’clock had come I felt that there was no more chance for me that day; so I went sadly down the hill, and, after a glance for Dick’s sake at the cutting, sought the sheebeen where Andy had the horse ready harnessed in the car. I assumed as cheerful an aspect as I could, and flattered myself that I carried off the occasion very well. It was not at all flattering, however, to my histrionic powers to hear Andy, as we were driving off, whisper in answer to a remark deploring how sad I looked, made by the old lady who kept the sheebeen: “Whisht! Don’t appear to notice him, orye’ll dhrive him mad. Me opinion is that he’s been wandherin’ on the mountain too long, an’ tamperin’ wid the rings on the grass — you know — an’ that he has seen the fairies!” Then he said aloud and ostentatiously: “Gee up, ye old corn-crake! Ye ought to be fresh enough; ye’ve niver left the fut iv the hill all the day.” Then turning to me, “An’ sure, surr, it’s goin’ to the top that takes it out ivwan — aythera horse or a man.” I made no answer, and in silence we drove to Carnaclif, where Ifound Dick impatiently waiting dinnerforme. I was glad to find that he was full of queries concerning the cutting, for it saved me from the consideration of subjects more difficult to answer satisfactorily. Fortunately I was able to give a good account of the time spent, for the work done had far exceeded my expectations. I thought that Dick was in much better spirits than he had been; but it was not until the subject of the bog at Knocknacar was completely exhausted that I got any clew on the subject. I then asked Dick if he had had a good time at Shleenanaher?

  “Yes!” he answered. “Thank God, the work is nearly done! We went over the whole place to-day, and there was only one indication of iron. This was in the bog just beside an elbow where Joyce’s land — his present land — touches ours — no, I mean on Murdock’s, the scoundrel!” He was quite angry with himself for using the word “ours” even accidentally.

  “And has anything come of it?” I asked him. “Nothing. Now that he knows it is there, he would not let me go near it on any account. I’m in hopes he’ll quarrel with me soon in order to get rid of me, so that he may try by himself to fish it — whatever it may be — out of the bog. If he does quarrel
with me! Well, I only hope he will; I have been longing for weeks past to get a chance at him. Then she’ll believe, perhaps — ” He stopped.

  “You saw her to-day, Dick!”

  “How did you know that?”

  “Because you look so happy, old man.”

  “Yes, I did see her; but only for a moment. She drove up in the middle of the day, and I saw her go up to the new house. But she didn’t even see me,” and his face fell. Presently he asked: “You didn’t see your girl?” “No, Dick, I did not. But how did you know?” “I saw it in your face when you came in.” We sat and smoked in silence. The interruption came in the shape of Andy. “I suppose, Masther Art, the same agin to-morra — unless ye’d like me to bring ye wid Masther Dick to see Shleenanaher; ye know the shpot, surr — where Miss Norah is!”

  He grinned, and as we said nothing, made his exit.

  CHAPTER VIII

  With renewed hope I set out in the morning for Knocknacar.

  It is one of the many privileges of youth that a few hours’ sleep will change the darkest aspect of the entire universe to one of the rosiest tint. Since the previous evening, sleeping and waking, my mind had been framing reasons and excuses for the absence of It was a perpetual grief to me that I did not even know her name. The journey to the mountain seemed longer than usual; but, even at the time, this seemed to me only natural under the circumstances. Andy was to-day seemingly saturated or overwhelmed with a superstitious gravity. Without laying any personal basis for his remarks, but accepting as a stand-point his own remark of the previous evening concerning my having seen a fairy, he proceeded to develop his fears on the subject. Iwill do him the justice to saythat his knowledge of folk-lore was immense, and that nothing but a gigantic memory for detail, cultivated to the full, or else an equally stupendous imagination working on the facts that momentarily came before his view, could have enabled him to keep up such a flow of narrative and legend. The general result to me was, that if I had been inclined to believe such matters I would have remained under the impression that, although the whole seaboard, with adjacent mountains, from Westport to Galway, was in a state of plethora as regards uncanny existences, Knocknacar, as a habitat for such, easily bore off the palm. Indeed, that remarkable mountain must have been a solid mass of gnomes, fairies, pixies, leprachauns, and all genii, species and varieties of the same. No Chicago grain elevator in the early days of a wheat corner could have been more solidly packed. It would seem that so many inhabitants had been allured by fairies, and consequently had mysteriously disappeared, that this method of minimisation of the census must have formed a distinct drain on the local population, which, by the way, did not seem to be excessive.