Complete Works of George Moore
Page 574
The story of the Bruces and of the Earl’s imprisonment had to be told over again in Irish, to an accompaniment of cries from Tadhg: The Earl in prison? By the holy Mother of God, the Earl in prison! By the wounds and the blood, the Earl in prison! Flush, Tadhg, hush, Ulick interrupted sharply. The Earl is no longer in prison. He was released by the order of Edward of England. I would have had the Earl set free by order of the King of Ireland! said Tadhg. Hast forgotten among other things that Edward Bruce is King of Ireland? The crowning at Carrickfergus was out of my mind at the time of speaking, Tadhg replied abashed. Sit down, Tadhg; drink, whilst I speak to Philippe Roudier, who returns to Hesdin. I would have him tell many things to the Comtesse that I have not time to write, and when I have done with him I will talk with thee, for we are riding to-morrow morning to Honfleur. Your uncles and aunts — A frown from Sir Ulick closed Tadhg’s mouth suddenly. I would spend the evening with thee, Roudier, hearing thee tell again with ampler detail the story of thy journey to Ireland. But you have much business to attend to if you would start to-morrow, sir, and my horse being rested — Then the story of thy journey to Ireland I shall never hear. No one ever hears the whole of any story, Roudier answered rising. Ulick accompanied him to the stables and saw him mount his horse. At the turn of the road the men waved a farewell, and in a little sadness Ulick returned to the inn, and picking up the pyx on the table, he said: Roudier has brought me from Ireland a portrait of my father, Tadhg, and lest I should lose it or mislay it, he thinks I had better entrust it to thee. It shall not leave the pocket of my tunic, Tadhg answered, and Ulick turned aside and looked out of the window lest his face should betray him, for this time he was full sure he had got the better of Tadhg. Till now he had never been able to keep a secret from him: An obscure, clandestine little fellow, who never questions a messenger or is tempted to look into a letter left lying about, but who comes all the same into knowledge of every kiss given, and the name of every new acquaintance no later than twelve hours after I have learnt it myself. Even into my mind he seems to peer, and so readily that I am afraid to think in his presence. But this time I shall outwit him! And without withdrawing his head from the window Ulick continued to shout back his answers to Tadhg’s questions till he remembered that it would be well to rouse himself to some thought of the horses they would ride and the hour they would be needed on the morrow. I must be myself and nothing but myself, he said, during this journey, else the silver box will become an object of suspicion; and when we arrive in Ireland his agents (for all the world is his agent) will tell him the names of those who sat to Roudier for their portraits, and if he should learn that Roudier has been to King OMelaghlin’s court to draw the three beautiful Princesses, he will say: One of them is in the box and it was for her that we returned to Ireland! But I cannot remain looking out of this window any more; and turning to Tadhg he began to speak of his father, of Bruce, Sir John Maupas, the Berminghams, and Sir Edmund Butler, till suddenly remembering that he had sent messages to all his uncles and aunts asking them to meet him at the tavern that night at supper, he said: Tadhg, go round at once to all the houses thou hast come from, leaving word at every one that an unexpected letter has just reached me, and that the answering of it and certain arrangements that will have to be made, a slight illness and a fatigue after the journey, leave me no time to see them to-night. Shall I say that you will see them to-morrow morning, your honour? We shall be on the road to Honfleur at daybreak. Do thou see that the horses are ready. And knowing that any business entrusted to Tadhg would be accomplished, he slept without fear and was, as he expected he would be, some miles out of Courancy before his relatives left their beds.
Hast forgotten the pyx, Tadhg? Have I forgotten the pyx, master! Have I ever forgotten anything you gave into my charge? And of all, should I have forgotten a box containing your father’s portrait? Never, Tadhg, never, Ulick answered, speaking with what seriousness of face and intonation he could command, but rejoicing inwardly that he had outwitted his servant. Good little sneak, thou wouldst die of shame if I were to turn round and say: Fool, as well as the Earl there is a woman in the box thou carriest next thy heart! Even then thou wouldst still be deceived, for I am not going to Ireland for her but for my father. He pricked his horse into a gallop, feeling that the journey to Ireland would be more comfortable without Tadhg than with him. And some of his thoughts must have passed on to his servant, for on the ship Tadhg kept out of Ulick’s sight and hearing, feeling himself to be in disgrace. For what cause he wondered, but did not dare to ask. One day some mouthfuls of Connemara French roused Ulick from his dreams of meeting Bruce in battle, and looking up he saw Tadhg addressing a group of speakers, and smiled inwardly, thinking what a strange pair they must have seemed to the folk that came down to the hedges to watch them riding by, one long and thin and sleek as a greyhound, the other rough as a terrier and as faithful. A faithful servant he is, surely, and is there anything more admirable in this world than a faithful servant? and moving towards the group he listened to the talk, hearing one speaker say that Robert Bruce had left Ireland because jealousies had arisen between him and his brother, whilst another speaker, contradicting him, said that Edward Bruce was in the north waiting for reinforcements from Scotland; a third speaker was certain sure that Bruce was in command of an army big enough to defeat Sir John Bermingham, and was not waiting for reinforcements but for the harvest. But you, Sir Ulick, have better news than we, and can say which of us has the truth.
He was weary of the sea and of the ship’s company, of keeping a secret, and he would have related his adventure if Tadhg’s eyes had not stopped the words on his lips; and instead of speaking them he devised a platitude, saying that he was no prophet and the only thing they could count upon was that which they had not thought of. His listeners’ faces fell. Is a Norman army coming over to help? somebody asked. Ulick shrugged his shoulders, and to escape further questions he walked up the deck aghast at the thought that had he told his intention of meeting Bruce in single combat, he might have wandered on, telling inadvertently that if he came out of the fight victorious he would wed the Princess Soracha, King OMelaghlin’s daughter, a nun in the convent of Durrow. Story links itself easily into story, and I should have frightened Tadhg, who certainly would not follow me to Lough Ennel if he knew that I was going thither to release a nun from her vows. He would answer that nobody but God or the Church could release a nun. But why am I thinking of the Princess Soracha, since I am not going to Ireland to release her from her vows but to help my father? Master, the Galway coast has just come into sight. Yes, I can see it, Tadhg; we shall be in Galway in a few hours, and I am glad, for I’m weary of these leaping waves. But thou’rt come to me with something on thy mind. Master, we are within a month — Within a month, certainly within two, of the time when I shall come out of battle the biggest man in Ireland, my father excepted, or be lying on the field a corpse, hewed down by Bruce, Bermingham’s army flying in all directions, massacred as they run. So your mind is the same, your honour? Why should it change, Tadhg?
For no reason at all, Tadhg answered, but Bruce is a griffon of war, always in the front line — And thou hast come to warn me that I may fall to his sword? No, master, but to tell you that it would be well to prepare for this fight — By getting a sword and shield? Ulick interjected. Not much good will a sword and shield be to you if you go into battle with sins on your conscience. The blow you’ll strike at Bruce’s neck will fall light as a child’s. But a good confession will set you fighting hearty as the angel Michael when he pitched Satan out of heaven. On entering the port of Galway, Tadhg, thou wouldst have me go to a priest? There is not a wish nearer my heart than to see you at the feet of Father Carabine. And what put that thought into thy head, Tadhg? My own sins. Thy sins! We all have a few, your honour. And as soon as the ship comes along the wharf thou’lt be running? And I’d have you running alongside of me. This man, said Ulick to himself, will never follow me to the convent of Durrow, nor to any convent
. But why trouble myself? My thoughts should not stray beyond the sword and the shield. And Tadhg, seeing that Sir Ulick was not listening, walked away with the air of a man bent upon important business, giving orders here and there and receiving in return a pile of packages brought up from the hold. Now, he’ll watch over these packages, said Ulick, like a savage terrier; but as soon as the ship is alongside he’ll start running after his soul. But the box! The ship, furling her sails, passed up the harbour, and when she came alongside the wharf the gangway was quickly run across. There he goes, making for the priest! And hoping that Tadhg would meet no robber in the town, Ulick’s thoughts turned on the approaching interview with his father.
He passed the porter without question, but as he mounted the stairs a servant stopped him, saying: I would have a word with you, Sir Ulick. About what? Ulick asked, and he waited, afraid that the Countess and her family were with the Earl; and it was a relief to hear that his father was with the bishop praying. Praying with the bishop! And for what? In Ireland our prayers are always that the Scots may be driven out and speedily, the servant answered. But I would not have you wait on the stairs, Sir Ulick; and they went into a room. With your permission, sir, I will leave the door open so that we shall not miss hearing the bishop as he comes down. I did not recognise thee at first; thou art my father’s valet, Thibault. Yes, Sir Ulick. And therefore will be able to give me news of my father. He is in good health, I hope? Yes, Sir Ulick, but with a great deal of himself passed away in his afflictions. You have been in France, Sir Ulick, and perhaps have not heard of the battle of Connor — I have heard of Connor, Ulick interposed, and afraid that Thibault would tactlessly speak of the Earl’s imprisonment in Dublin he was about to close the valet’s mouth by a question when Thibault’s quicker ears caught the sound of footsteps: I hear Bishop ONeil coming down. His lordship was the only one that knew the Earl’s hiding-place after the battle! A small, shrunken prelate went by making signs with his fingers, and leaving
Thibault to take the blessing Ulick hied himself to his father.
Father! The Earl raised his eyes from his beads, lowered them, and continued his prayers unmindful of his son, who stood in the doorway impatient and disappointed, for he had looked forward to the first outburst of affection in an embrace. The talk that would follow it, too, he had run over dozens of times on the ship in his imagination: the telling of the applause that Irish music had met with in his own songs, and how wonderfully Tadhg had followed his voice on the harp. He had often turned from the sea with a smile that puzzled Tadhg, into whose mind no suspicion entered that Sir Ulick’s sea dream was but a recital of his servant’s anxiety to discover a priest to whom he could confess in Irish. Now my changed father will think it quite natural that Tadhg should be anxious to meet an Irish priest! and he listened to the clinking of the Earl’s beads as he moved them from a Hail Mary to an Our Father. At last the Earl rose from his knees. So thou hast returned to me, son! For three weeks I have watched the sea through that window for a French ship coming up the bay furling her sails. From the day that we loosed at Honfleur, father, thou must have begun to watch for my ship, and relying on the winds as favourable must have said: His return cannot be delayed beyond the end of this week. Southerly winds were blowing nearly every day, the Earl answered; I consulted them with bits of paper. Fetch thee a stool. And bringing one to his father’s chair and seating himself upon it Ulick waited for the pleasant talk to begin. But the Earl’s attention seemed to wander, and all Ulick’s efforts to capture it failing, his eyes went to the rosary. Is it possible, he asked himself, that my father is still saying his beads on the sly? and the thought annoying him greatly he called upon his father to lay aside the rosary, a demand that the Earl complied with, returning the beads to the pocket of his tunic and submitting himself to his son’s conversation with an inquiry after the portraits that Roudier had drawn of him; and anxious not to lose the advantage he had thus obtained Ulick asked if it were not a happy thought of his to send a French craftsman to Ireland in return for the Earl’s boon to France. What boon? the Earl asked, and Ulick answered: Tadhg, who has made the Irish harp famous in France. All the minstrels are playing it, placing it above the lute. The Earl would have wandered into a long tale of his discovery of Tadhg’s genius, but Ulick had no intention of letting the conversation get out of hand again and he begged to be told if Roudier had drawn other portraits in Ireland. He made a beautiful drawing of Sir Edmund Butler, and of the Berminghams, too, he made drawings that pleased everybody, and after these he travelled in Galway and Mayo drawing portraits from castle to castle. And when there were no more to draw in Galway and Mayo? Ulick asked, and he listened to his father’s story of the escort he had given to Roudier to go to Lough Ennel to make portraits of King OMelaghlin’s daughters. It amused him to hear his father’s version of the story that he had already heard from Roudier, but whilst listening to the Earl’s telling of the Three Celtic Graces his thoughts wandered to Soracha’s portrait in the silver box and he asked himself what had become of Tadhg, and then his thoughts went back quickly to Sir John Bermingham and Sir Edmund Butler, who would not allow his father of a certainty to collect an army, nor would they accept a divided command; so he, Sir Ulick de Burgo, must choose between returning to France to sing songs or remaining in Ireland to keep his father company, an old, broken man without power or influence, who had aged ten years in three. The red-tawny hair that had earned for him the title of the Red Earl was streaked with grey and his eyes were dim.
He is interested only in his misfortunes, Ulick said to himself, and giving ear once more to his father he heard the Earl saying that in the beginning of his life he had harried Galway, forcing rebellious chiefs to submit to his rule, and having made Galway and Mayo secure he had taken an army into Scotland and fought under the banner of England’s greatest king, Edward I, and received commendation from him. To secure my kingdom I married my daughter to Robert Bruce, King of Scotland. None more prosperous in the beginning, none more unfortunate in the end! How all this has come to pass, son, I know not, and I doubt if thou canst tell me. It was on Ulick’s lips to answer: Father, all ends of life are sad. The greatest men have paid for their greatness by unhappy deaths. The names of Socrates, Hannibal and Caesar, and some others occurred to him, but he did not speak them. His desire being to console he predicted instead a great defeat for Bruce on his march to Dublin and a restoration of the Earl’s power in Ireland. Thou speakest, Ulick, as a young man. The young know nothing of the old. Bermingham’s victory could do nothing for me. The past cannot be undone. I was defeated at Connor — No man can prevail against treachery, Ulick interjected; and the battle of Connor and the Earl’s imprisonment in Dublin set them wrangling till at last Ulick could bear it no longer, and he concluded that he must tell his father he had come to Ireland to fight Bruce in single combat. But to do this he would have to wait till his father had finished talking of Felim’s betrayal and the fall of snow that had forced the Bruces to retreat from Limerick; and he listened with patience, trying with a remark interjected now and then to beguile his father out of his memories back to the reality of Bruce waiting in the north to march upon Dublin. But the Earl rambled so aimlessly in his talk that Ulick forgot himself till a sudden silence awoke him from his reveries, and rising from his stool and laying his hand affectionately on his father’s shoulder he said: What ails thee, father, and of what art thou thinking?
I am thinking, son, if I did right to send that letter summoning thee to sacrifice the springhead of thy life for an old, polluted life ebbing fast. But since I chose to leave France of my own free will and for my own pleasure, father — I must consult ONeil; he will tell me if it be my duty to ask thee to return to singing and to harp-playing. But, father, I have come to Ireland to ask thee to give me an army.