pHrtijKhW^ CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY ^ JjDrnaiUimv^rsity Library PR4884.M3 1856 The Martins of Cro'Martin, 3 1924 013 516 434 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013516434 ^/l^'irOUTI S.PIE C E C'-^/f^Mn the season, were passed in review, and a number of xacy anecdotes THE MAETIIfrs OP CEO' MAETIH'. 19 interelianged about their rank, morals, fortune, and pretensions. A very general impression seemed to prevail, ttat in the several points of climate, scenery, social advantages, and amusements, Killfieram might stand a favourable comparison with the first watering-places, not alone of England, but the Continent ; and after various discur- sive reasons why its fame had not equalled its deserts, there was an almost imanimous declaration of opinion that the whole fault lay with the Martins ; not, indeed, that the speakers were very logical in their arguments, siace some were heard to deplore the change from the good old times, when everybody was satisfied to Uve anywhere, and anyhow ; when there was no. road to the place but .a bridle- path ; not a loaf of bread to be had within twelve mUes ; no post- office ; while others eloquently expatiated on all that might havfe been, and yet was not done. ""We tried to get up a little news-room," said Captain. Bodkin, " and I went to Martin myself about it, but he hum'd and ha'd, and said, untiT people subscribed for the Dispensary, he thought they needn't mind newspapers." " Just like him," said Mrs. Cronan ; " but indeed I think it's my Lady does it all." " I difier from you. Ma'am," said Miss jBusk, with a bland smUe ; " I attribute the inauspicious influence to another." " Ton mean Miss Martin ?" said Mrs. Cronan. " Just so, Ma'am ; indeed, I have reason to know I am correct. This time two years it was I went over to Cro' Martin House to propose opening 'my Emporium' for the season at the port. I thought it was due to the owners of the estate, and due to myself also," added Miss Busk, majestically, " to state my views about a measure so intimately associated with the-^ — , the— < — , in fact, what I may call the interests of civilisation. I had just received my plates of -the last fashions from Dublin — you may remember them. Ma'am, I showed.them to you at Mrs. Oullenane's— well, when I was in the very middle of my explanation, who should come into the room but Miss Martin " " Dressed in the old brown riding-habit ?" interposed a fat old lady, with one eye. " Tes, Mrs. Eew, in the old brown riding-habit. She came up to the table, with a saucy laugh in her face, and said, ' "Why, Uncle, are you going to give a fancy ball !' '" It is the last arrivalfrom Paris, Miss,' said I, 'the Orleans mantle, •which, though not a "costume de Chasse,' ' is accounted very becoming.' c2 20 THE MAETINS OF CBO' MAETIN. " ' 4i, you're laughing at my old habit, Miss Busk,' said she, seeing how I eyed her ; ' and it really is very shabby, but I intend to give Dan Leary a commission to replace it one of these days.' " "Dan Leary, of the Cross-roads!" exclaimed Captain BodMn, laughing. " I pledge you my word of honour, Sir, she said it. ' And as to all this finery. Miss Busk,' said she, turning over the plates with her whip, ' it would be quite unsuitable to our country, our cUmate, and our habits ; not to say, that the Orleans mantle would be worn with an iU grace when our poor people are going half naked !' " "Positively indecent- — downright indelicate!" shuddered Mrs. Cronan. " And did Martin agree with her ?" asked the Captain. " I should like to know when he dared to do otherwise. Why, be- tween my Lady and the Mece he can scarcely call his Ufe his own." " They say he has a cruel time of it^' sighed Mr. Clinch, the revenue-officer, who had some personal experience of domestic sla- very. "Tush — nonsense!" broke in his wife. "I never knew one of those hen-pecked creatures that wasn't a tyrant in his family. I'U engage, if the truth were known. Lady Dorothy has the worst of it." " i"aith, and he's much altered from what he was when a boy, if any one rules him," said the Captain. "I was at school with him and his twin-brother Barry ; I remember the time when one of them had to wear a bit of red ribbon in his button-hole, to distinguisb him from the other. They were the bom images of each other ; that is, in looks, for in real character they weren't a bit like. Godfrey wa? a cautious, quiet, careful chap, that looked after his pocket-money, and never got into scrapes : and "Barry was a wasteful devil, that made the coin fly, and could be led by any one. I think he'd have given his life for his brother any day. I remember once when Godfrey wouldn't fight a boy — I forget what it was about — Barry stole the bit of ribbon out of his coat, and went up and fought in his place, and a mighty good thrashing he got, too." "I have heard myfather speak of that," said a thin, pale, careworn little man, in green spectacles ; " for the two boys were taken away at once, and it was the ruin of the school." "So it 'was. Doctor; you're right there," broke in the Captain; " and they say th^it Martin bears a grudge against you to this day." " That would be hard," sighed the meek Doctor; " for I had nothin" to say to it, or my father either. But, it cost him dearly !" added he, ipournfuUy. THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIN. 21 " Tou know best, Doctor, whether it is true or not ; hut he certainly wasn't your friend when you tried for the Pever Hospital." " That was because Pat NeUigan was on my committee," said the Doctor. I " And was that sufficient to lose you Mr. Martin's support. Sir ?" asked young NeUigan, with a degree of astonishment in his face, that, joined to the injaocence. of the question, caused a general burst of hearty laughter. " The young -gentleman knows more about cubio sections, it appears, than of what goes on in his own town," said the Captain. " Why, Sir, your father is the most independent man in all Oughterard ; and, if I know Godfrey Martin, he'd give a thousand guineas this night to have him. out of it." A somewhat animated " rally " followed this speech, in which dif- ferent speakers gave their various reasons why Martin ought, or ought not, to make any sacrifica^to put down the spirit of which Pat Nelli- gan was the chief champion. These arguments were neither cogent nor lucid enough to require repeating ; nor did they convey to Joseph himself, with all his ansiety for information, the slightest knowledge on the subject discussed. Attention was, however, drawn off the theme by the clattering sound of a horse passing along the shingly shore at a smart gallop, and with eager curiosity two or three rushed to the door to see what it meant. A swooping gust of wind and rain, overturning chairs and Extinguishing candles, drove them suddenly back again ; and, half laughing at the confusion, half cursing the weather, the party barricaded the door, and returned to their places. " Of course it was Miss Martin ; who else would be out at this, time of the night ?" said Mrs. Clinch. "And without a servant !" exclaimed .Miss Busk. " Indeed, you may well make the remark. Ma'am," said Mrs. Cronan. V " The young lady was brought up in a fashion that wasn't practised in my time!" " "Where could she have been down that end of the port, I wonder?" said Mrs. Clinch. " She came up from Garra Cliff." " Maybe she came round by the strand," said the Doctor ; " if she did, I don't think there's one here would like to have followed her." " I wouldn't be her horse !" said one — " Nor her groom !" muttered another ; and thus, gradually lashing themselves into a wild indigna- tion, they opened at last a steady fire upon the young lady — her habits, her manners, and her appearance, all coming in for a share of criticism ; and, although a few modest amendments were put in fovour of her horsemanship and her good looks, the motion was carried that 22 THE MAETIlfS OF CEO' MABTIN. no young lady ever took sucli liberties before, and that the meeting desired to record their strongest censure on the example thils extended to their own young people. If yonng NelHgan ventured upon a timid question of what it was she had done, he was met by an eloquent chorus of half a dozen voices, recounting mountain excursions which no young lady had ever made before ; distant spots visited, dangers incurred, storms encoun- tered, perils braved, totally -unbecoming to her in her rank- of life, and shovnng that she had no personal respect, nor, as Miss Busk styled it — " a proper sense of the dignity of woman !" " 'Twas down at Mrs: NeUigan's, Ma'am, Miss Mary was," said MrSuCronan's maid, who had been despatched special to make inquiry on the subject. " At my mother's !" exclaimed Joseph, reddening, without knowing in the least why. And now a new diversion occurred, while all dis- oussed every possible and impossible reason for this singular fact, since the family at the " Nest " maintained no intercourse whatever with their neighbourSj not even seeming, by any act of their lives, to acknowledge their very existence. Young NeUigan took the opportunity to make his escape during the debate,; and as the society offers nothing very attractive to detain us, it wiD. be as weU if we follow him, while he hastened homeward, aJong the dark and storm-lashed beach. He had about a nule to go>' and, short as was this distance, it enabled him to think over what he had just heard, strange and odd as it seemed tohis ears. "WihoUy given up, as he had been for years past, to the ambition of a College, life, with but one goal before his eyes, one class of topics engrossing his thoughts, he had never even passingly reflected on the condition; of parties, the feuds of opposing factions, and, stronger than either, the animosities that separated social ranks in Ireland. Confounding the occasional slights he had experienced by virtue of his class, with the jealousy caused by his successes, he had totally oveiiooked the disparagement men exhibited towards the son of the little, country shopkeeper, and never knew of his disgualiflcation for. a society whose precincts he had not tried to pass. The littleness^ the unpurpoae-like vacuity, the intense vulgarity of his Oughterard Mends, had disgisted him, it: is true, but he had yet to learn that the foolish jealousy of their wealthy neighbour was a trait stUl less amiable, and ruminating over these problems— knottier far to him than many a complex formula, or many a disputed reading of a Glreek play — he at last reached the solitary little cabia where his mother Uved. It is astonishing how difficult men of highly cultivated and actively THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIN. 23 practised minds, find it to comprehend the little tuminga and wind- ings of commonplace life, the jealousies and the rivalries of smaU people. They search for motives where there are merely impulses, and look for reasons when there are simply passions. It was only as he lifted the latch that he remembered how deficient he was in all the information his mother would expect from him. Of the fortunes of the whist-table he actually knew nothing, and had he been interrogated as to the " toilette" of the party, his answers would have betrayed a lamentable degree of ignorance. Fortunately for him, his mother did not display her habitual anxiety on these interest- ing themes. She neither asked after the Captain's winnings — he was the terror of the party — nor whether Miss Busk astonished the com- pany by another new gown. Poor Mrs. Nelligan was too brimful of another subject to admit of one particle of extraneous matter to occupy her. With a proud consciousness, however, of her own resources, she affected to have thoughts for other things, and asked Joe if he passed a pleasant day ? " Yes, very — ^middling — quite so — rather stupid, I thought," replied he, in his usual half-connected manner, when unable to attach his mind to the question before him. "Of course, my dear, it's very unlike what" you're used to up in Dublin, though I believe that Captaint.^odkin, when he goes there, always dines with the Lord-Lieutenan'feJ^ and Miss Eusk, I know, is second cousin to Earn of Swainestown, and there is nothing better than that in Ireland. I say this between oin-selves, for your father can't bear-me to talk of family or connexion^ — though I'm sure I was always brought up to think a great" deal about good blood, and if my father was a Finnerty, my mother was a Moore of Crockbawnj and her family never looked at her for marrying my father." " Indeed !" said Joe, in a dreamy semi-consciousness. " It's true what' I'm telling you. She often said it to me herself, and told me what a blessing it was, through all her troubles and trials in life^and she had her share of them, for my father was often in drink, and very cruel at times — 'it supports me,' she used to say, ' to remember who I am, and the stock I came from, and to know that there's not one belonging to me would speak tb me, nor look at the ' same side of the road with me, after what I done ; and Matty,' said, she to me, ' if ever it happens ■ to you to marry a man beneath you in life, always bear in mind that, no matter how he treats you, you're- better than him.' And, indeed, it's a great support and comfort toi one's feelings after all," said she with a deep sigh. "I'm certain of it," muttered Joe, who had not followed one word of the harangue. 24 THE MAETINS OF CBO' MAETIN. ",But mind that you never tell your father so. Indeed, I wouldn't let on to him what happened this evening." " "What was that ?" asked the young man, roused by the increased anxiety of her manner. " It was a visit I had, my dear," replied the old lady, with a sim- pering consciousness that she had something to reveal — " it was a visit I had paid me, and by an elegant young lady, too." " A young lady ? Not Miss Cassidy, mother- I think she left yesterday morning." " No, indeed, my dear. Somebody very different from Miss Cas- sidy ; and you might guess till you were tired before you'd think of Miss Martin." " Miss Martin !" echoed Joe. "Exactly so. Miss Martin of Cro' Martin ; and the way it hap- pened was this. I was sitting here alone in the room after my tea — for I sent , Biddy out to ■ borrow the Intelligence for me — and then comes a.sharp knock to the door, and I called out ' Come in,' but instead of . doing so there was another rapping, louder than before, and I said, ' Bother you, can't you lift the latch ;' and then I heard a something like a laugh, and so I went out, and you may guess the sbame I felt as I saw a young lady fastening the bridle of her horse to the bar of .the window. ' Mrs. Nelligan, I believe,' sai^ she, with a smile and a look that warmed piy heart to her at once ; and as I curtseyed very low, she went on. I forget, indeed, the words, whether she said she was Miss Martin, or it was I that asked the question ; ■ but I know she came in with me to the room, and sat down where you are sitting now. ' Coming back from Kyle's Wood this morning,' said she, ' I overtook poor BUly with the post ; be was obliged to go two miles out of his way to ford the river ; and what with waiting for the mail, which was late in coming, and what vdth being wet through, he was completely knocked up ; so I offered to take the bag for him, and send it over to-morrow by one of our people. But the poor fellow wouldn't consent, because he was charged with something of consequence for you — a small bottle of medicine. Of course I was only too. happy to take this also, Mrs. NeUigan, and here it is.' And with that she put it on the table, where you see it. I'm sure I never knew how to thank her enough for her good nature, but I said all that I could think of, and told her that my son was just come back from CoUege, after getting the gold medal." " Tou didn't speak of that, mother," said he, blushing till his very forehead was crimson. THE MABTINS Or CEO' MAETIIT. 25 " Indeed, then; I did, Joe ; and I'd like to know why I wouldn't. Is it a shame or a disgrace to us ! At any rate, she didn't think so, for she said, ' Ton must be very proud of him ;' and I told her so I was, and that he was as good as he was clever ; and, moreover, that the newspapers said the time was coming when men like young INelligan would soar their way up to honours and distinctions in spite of the oppressive aristocracy that so long had combined to degrade them." " Good Heavens ! mother, you couldn't have made such a speech as that p" cried he, ia a voice of downright misery. " Didn't I, then ? And didn't she say, if there were any such op- pression as could throw obstacles in the way of deserving merit, she heartily hoped it might prove powerless ; and then she got up to wish me good evening. I thought, at first, a little stiffly, that is, more haughty in her maimer than at first ; but when I arose to see her out, and she saw I was lame, she pressed me down into my chair, and said ia such a kind voice, ' Tou mustn't stir, my dear Mrs. iTeUigan. I, who can find my road over half of the county, can surely discover my way to the door.' 'Am I ever like to have the happiness of seeing you again. Miss ?' said I, as I held her hand in mine. ' Cer- tainly, if it would give you the very slightest pleasure,' said she, pressing my hand most cordially ; and with that we parted. In- deed, I scarce knew she was gone when I heard the clattering of the horse over the shingle, for she was away in a gallop, dark as the night was. Maybe," added the old lady, with a sigh — " maybe, I'd hare thought it was all a dream, if it wasn't that I found that glove, of hers on the floor ; she dropped it, I suppose, going out." Toung "NeUigan took up the glove with a strange feeling of bashful reverence. It was as though he was touching a sacred relic ; and he stood gazing on it steadfastly for some seconds. " I'U send it over to the house by Biddy, with my compliments, and to know how the family is, in the morning," said Mrs. NeUigan, •with the air of one who understood the value of conventional usages. " And she'U make some stupid blunder or other," replied Joe, im- patiently, " that will cover us all vrith shame. No, mother, I'd rather go with it myself than that." "To be sure, and why not," said Mrs. Nelligan. "There's noj. reason why you should be taking up old quarrels against the Martins; for my part, I never knew the country so pleasant as it used to be long ago, when we used to get leave to go pic-nicking on the grounds of Cro' Martin, up to the Hermitage, as they called it ; and now the 2i. THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIIT. gates are locked and barred like a gaol, and nobody allowed in without a- ticket." " Yesi I'll go myself with it," said Joe, who heard nothing of his mother's remarkj hut was following out the track of his own specu- lations. As little did he attend to the various suggestions: she threw out for his guidance and direction^ the several topics to which he might, and, those to which he must not, on any account, allude. '*,Not a word, for your life, Joe, about the right of pathway to Clune Abbey, and. take care you say nothing about the mill-raee at Glandaff, nor the shooting in Eyle's Wood. And if by any chance there should be a talk about the tolls at Oughtraard, say you never heard of them before. Make out, in fact," said she, sammmg-ap, " as if you never heard of a county where there was so mudi good-wiU and kindness' between the people; and sure it isn't: your fault if it's not true!" And with this philosophic reflection, Mrs. NeHigara wished her son goad night and retired. CHAPTEE III. AN AUTUMN MOBNrNG IN THE WEST. The Gsprey'a Neat was, I have said, like a direct diaHenge hurled. at the face of western galea and Atlantic storms. "With what suc- cess, its aspect of dilapidation and decay but too plainly betrayei,.! The tangled seaweed,, that hung. in dripping festoons over the porch —the sea-shells that rattled against the window-panes, seemed like an angry denunciation of the attempt to brave the elements hj the mere appliances of ease and luxury. It was better, however, in the inside, where, in a roomy apartment^, most comfort3,bIy furnished,,, a lady and gentleman sat at breakfast; the table stood in a little projection of the room, admitting of a widai sea- vi^w' over the bay and the distant islands of Lettermullenj. but as carefully excluded all prospect of the .port — a locality which! held-, no high place in the esteem of the lady of the house, and which, by ignoring, she half fancied she had annihilated. "Wild promontories-of rocks, jutting out here and there, broke the coast-Une, and marked, the shore with a foaming stream of white water, as the ever-restless sea; dashed over them. The long booming swell of the great oceaai bounded into many a rooky cavern with a loud report like, thuadeiyj THE MAETINS OE CEO MAETrU. 27 and issued fortli again witli a whole cataract of faUing stones, that rattled like the crash of small-arms. It was unceasing deafening clamour in the midst of a deathlike desolation. Let me, however, turn once more to the scene within, and present tlie living elements to my reader. They were both past the prime of life. The lady might still be called handsome ; her features were per- fectly regular, and finely cut, bearing the impress of a proud and haughty spirit, that never quailed beneath the conflict of a long life, and even yet showed a firm front to fortune. Her hair was white as snow, and as she wore it drawn back, after the fashion of a bygone time, it gave her the air of a fine lady of the old French Court, in aU the pomp of powder and pomatum. Nor did her dress correct the impression, since the deep falls of lace that covered her hands, the lengthy stomacher, and trailing folds of her heavy brocade gown, aU showed a lurking fondness for the distinctive toilette of that era. Lady Dorothea' Martin had been a beauty and an Earl's daughter^ two facts that not even the seclusion of the wild "West, could erase from her memory. Mr. Martin himself was no unworthy "pendant" to this por- trait. He was tall and stately, with a lofty forehead; and temples finely and well fashioned^ while fuU, deep-set blue eyes, of the very sternest determination, and a mouth every line of which betrayed firmness, gave the character to a face that also could expand into the most genial good fellowship, and become at times the symbol of a pleasant and convivial Irish gentleman. In his youth he had been a beau of the Court of Versailles. Scandal had even coupled his name with that of Marie Antoinette; and more truthful narratives connected him with some of the most extravagant adventures of that profligate and brilliant period. After a career of the wildest dissipation and excess, he had married, late in life, the daughter of the Earl of Exmere, one of the proudest and poorest, names in the British Peerage. Two or three attempts to shine in the world of London — ^not. as successful as they were expected to have proved — an efibrt at aacendanoy in Irish political life, also a fauure, coupled with disappointment on the score of an only brother,, who had married beneath him, and was reputed to have "lost himself," seemed to have disgusted Godfrey Martin with the world,, and he had retired to his lonely mansion in the "West, which now for eighteen yeaars he had scarcely quitted for a single day. His- only son had joined a cavalry regiment in India a few years before the period our story opens,' and which, I may now state, dates for about four or fiv&^nd-twenty years back ; but his &mily included a 28 THE MAETIIfS OF CEO' MAETIN. 'niece, the only child of his brother, and whose mother had died in giving her birth. Between Mr. Martin and Lady Dorothea, as they sat at breakfast, little conversation passed. He occupied himself with the newly- arrived newspapers, and she perused a mass of letters which had just come by that morning's post; certain scraps of the inteUigenee gleaned from either of these sources forming the only subjects of conversation between them. " So, they have resolved to have a new Parliament. I knew it would come to that — I always said so — and, as usual, the dissolution finds us unprepared." " Plantagenet's regiment is ordered to Currachee, wherever that may be," said Lady Dorothea, languidly. " C^ll him Harry, and we shall, save ourselves some trouble in discussing him," replied he, pettishly. ''At all events, he cannot possibly be here in time for the contest, and we must, I suppose, give our support to Ejlmorris again." " Do you mean, after his conduct about the harbour, and the shameful way he sneaked out of the Port Martin project ?" " Pind anything better, Madam, there is the difficulty. Kilmorris is a gentleman, and no Eadical ; and, as times go, these are rather rare qualities." " Lady Sarah Upton's match is off," said Lady Dorothea, reading from a note beside her. , " Sir Joseph insisted upon the uncontrolled possession of all her Staffordshire property." "And perfectly right." " Perfectly wrong to give it to him." ." A fool if he married without it." " A mean creature she, to accept him on such terms." " The woman is eight-and-thirty — if not more. I remember her at Tunbridge. Let me see, what year was it ?" " I detest dates, and abhor chronologies. Eeach me the marma- lade," said Lady Dorothea, superciliously. " "What's this balderdash here from the Galway Indicator. ' The haughty and insolent, aye, and ignoranjb aristocracy will have to swal- low a bitter draught ere long ; and such petty despots as Martin of Cro' Martin will learn that the day is gone by for their ascendancv in this county.' They tell me we have a law of libel in the land, and yet see how this scoundrel can dare to drag me byname before the world; and I'll wager a thousand pounds Pd fail to get a verdict against him if I prosecuted him to-morrow," said Martin, as he dashed the newspaper to the ground, and stamped his foot upon it. " "We are THE MAHTINS OF CEO' MAETIlfr. 29 constantly reading diatribes about absentee landlords, and the evils of neglected property— but I ask, what inducements are there held out to any gentleman to reside on his estate, if evei^ petty scribbler of the press can thus attack and assail him with impunity ?" " Is that Mary I see yonder ?" asked Lady Dorothea, languidly, as she lifted her double eye-glass, and then suffered it to fall from her fingers. " So it is, by Jove !" cried Martin, springing up, and approaching the window. "I wish she'd not venture out in that small boat in this treacherous season. What a swell there is, too. The wind is from the sea." " She's coming in, I fancy," drawled out Lady IDorothea. "How is she to do it, tho\igh?" exclaimed he, hurriedly; "the sea is breaking clear over the piers of the harbour. I can only see one man in the boat — ^what rashness — ^what folly ! There, look, they're standing out to sea again !" And now, throwing open the win- dow, Martin stepped out on the rocks, over which the white foam flashed by like snow. " What are they at, Peter — what are they try- ing to do ?" cried he to an old fisherman, who, with the coil of a net he was just mending, on his arm, had now come down to the shore to watch the boat. " They're doing right, your Honour," said he, touching his cap re- spectfully ; " 'tis Loony my Lady has in the boat, and there's no better man in trouble ! He's just going to beat out a bit, and then he'U run in imder the shelter of the blue rocks. iPaix, she's a fine boat then for her size-r-look at her now ! " But Martin had covered his eyes with his hand, while his Hps mur- mured and moved rapidly. "May I never, but they're letting out the reef!" screamed the old man in terror. " More sail, and in such a sea !" cried Martin in a voice of horror. " Aye, and right to," said the fisherman, after a pause,—" she's rising lighter over the sea, and steers better, besides. It's Miss Mary has the tiUer," added the old fellow, with a smile. " I'll lay a shining she's singing this minute." " You think so," said Martin, glad to catch at this gleam of con- fidence. " I know it well, your Honour. I remember one day, off Letter- muUen, it was worse than this. Hurrah !" screamed he out suddenly, " she took in a great sea that time !" ^" Get out a boat, Peter, at once ; what are we standing here for ?" cried Martin, angrily ; « man a boat this instant." 30 THE MAETINS 01' CBO' MABTIS. " Sure no boat could get out to sea with tHs wind, Sir," remon- strated tlie old man, mildly ; " she'd never leave the surf, if ye had forty men at her !" " Then, what's to be done ?" " Just let . them alone, themselves two, know as well what to do as any pair in Ireland, and are as cool besides. There now,, she's putting her about, as I said, and she'll run for the creek." The frail boat, a mere speck upon the, dark green ocean, seemed now to fly, ! as with a, 'slackened "sheet she darted. over the water. Her , course was bent for a little cove, concealed from view by .a. rugged promontory of rock, up which the old fisherman now clambered with the alacrity of a younger man. Martin tried to foUow, but, overcome by emotion, he was unable, and sat down upon .a ledge ofxock, ibory- ing his face within his hands. By this time the whole fishing population of the little village had ga- thered on the beach around the cove,, to watch the boat as she came in ; numbers had gone otit to meet her, and stood up. to their, waists iu the white and boiling surf, ready to seize upon the skiff' and run her high and dry upon the sand. ^Bven they were obliged to be lashed. together by a rope, lest the receding waves should carry them out to sea, or the " under tow" suck them beneath the surface. As the boat came withia speaking distance, a wild shout arose from the shore to "down sail" and sufier her to come ia on her way .alone ; but with aU the canvas sprfead, they came flying along, scarce fleemiug more than to tip the waves as they skipped over them, while a 'shower of spray appeared to cover them as the sea broke upon the stern. Instead of rendering aid, the iltmost the fishermen, could do was to clear a path amongst them for the skiff to pass, as w^th lightning; speed she flitted by and drove Iffir bow high up on the hard beach. A wUd glad cheer of joy and welcome burst from the'hearty fisher- men as they crowded labout the young girl,' who Pepped out of the boat with a heavy bundle in ier, arms. JBer hair hung in great masses over her neck and shoulders, her cheeks were flushed, and her dark eyes gleamed with aU the excitement of peril and trittmph. " Here, Margaret," said she to a young woman, who, pale vpith terror and with face streaming in tears, rushed towards her — " here's your little fellow, all safe and sound ; I'd not have put back but for -his sake." And with this she placed in his mother's arms a little boy of about three years of age, sound asleep. "He must wait for better weather if he wants to see his grandmother. And," added she, laugh- ing, " I scarcely think you'll catch me going to sea again with so precious a cargo. Poorlittle man," and she pattedhis ruddy .•cheeks, THE MAETINS OF CEO' AL4.BTIN. 31 " ihe behaved so well, like a stout fiatermam's ^ son as lie is — never showed fear for a moment." A murmur of delighted hearts ran through the crowd, some think- ing of the child, but many more ia warm admiration of the brave and beautiful yoxing girl before them. "Loony," said she to her boat- man, " when you've got the tackle to rights, come up to the house- for your breakfast." And with that,.and a few words of grateful recognition as she passed, she. -clambered up the rock and hastened homeward. As for her Uncle, no sooner had he heard of her safe arrival on shore than he hurried back, anxious to reach :the house before her. Tor a considerable time back Martin had schooled himself into an apparent indifference about his Niece's perils. Lady Dorothea had probably .given the initiative to this feeling, by constantly asserting that the young lady would incur few risks when they ceased to create alarm. It was a somewhat ungracious theory, and excited in Martin's mind, when he first beard it, a sensation the very reverse of agreeable. Without accepting its truth, however, it made a deep impression .upon him, and at last, by way of policy, he resolved to feign a degree of callous indifference very foreign to his nature, and, by dint of mere habit, he at length acquired a semblance of calm, under circumstances that sorely tested his powers of self-control. " Has the heroiue arrived safe on shore ?" asked Lady Dorothea in her own languid drawl. And Martin almost started at the question, and seemed for a moment as if the iudignation it excited could not be repressed ; then, smiling half superciliously at the impassive air of her . features, he said : " Yes, and by rare good luck, too ! The sea is a terrific ane this morning !" " Is it ever anything else in this heavenly climate f" said she, sigh- ing. " I have counted two fine days since the 8th of Jioue ; and indeed it rained a little on one of them." Martin winced impatiently under the remark, but never lifted his eyes from the newspaper. " I had hoped your Niece was making arrangements for our return to Cro' Martin," said she, querulously, " instead of planning marine excursions. I told her yesterday — or the day before, I forget which ; but who could remember time in such a place ! — that I wa^ bored to death here. The observation seems to amuse you, Mr. Martin, but it is a simple fact." " And you are bored to death at Cro' Martin too, if I mistake not ?" said he, with a very significant dryness. 32 THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIlf. " I should tUnk I was, Sir, and nothing very astonishing in the confession besides." « And Dublin, Madam ?" " Don't speak of it. If one must endure prison discipline, at least let us have a cell to ourselves. Good morning, Miss Martin. I hope you enjoyed your party on the water ?" This speech was addressed to Mary, who now entered the room dressed in a plain morning costume, and in her quiet, almost demure look, resembling in nothing the dripping and dishevelled figure that sprung from the boat. " Good morning. Aunt," said she, gaily. " Good morning. Uncle," kissing, .as she spoke, his cheek, and patting him fondly on the shoulder. " I saw you out on the rocks 'as we were coming in.'' " Pooh, pooh," said he, in affected indifierence, " I knew there was no danger " " Tes but there was though," said she, quickly. " If we hadn't set aU sail on her she'd have been pooped to a certainty ; and I can teU you I was in a rare fright too.'' '" Oh, indeed, you confess to such, an ignoble emotion ?" said Lady Dorothea, with a sneer. " That I do. Aunt, for I had poor Madge Lennan's little boy on my lap all the time, and if it came to a swim, I don't see how he was to be saved." "Tou'd not have left him to his fate, I suppose?" said Dorothea; " I scarcely know what I should have done. I sincerely hope it would have been my best ; but in a moment like that, within sight of home too " Her eyes met her Uncle's as she said this ; he had raised them from his newspaper, and bent them fuUy on her. There was that in their expression which appealed so strongly to her heart, that instead of finishing her speech she sprung towards him and threw her arms around his neck. " Quite a scene ; and I detest scenes," said Lady Dorothea, as she arose and swept out of the room contemptuously ; but they neither heard the remark nor noticed her departure. THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIN. 33 CHAPTEE IV. MAUEICE SCANLAN, ATTOKNE Y-AI-LAW. Abottt an liour after the occurrence mentioned in our last chapter, the quiet little village of ICilkieran was startled by the sharp clattering sounds of horses' feet, as Mr. Scanlan's tandem came slinging along; and after various little dexterities amid stranded boats, disabled anchors, and broken capstans, drew up at the gate of the Osprey's Nest. "When men devise their own equipage, they invariably impart to it a strong infusion of their own idiosyncrasy. The quiet souls who drag through life in chocolate-coloured barouches, with horses indifferently matched, give no clue to their special characteristics ; but your men of tax-carts, and tandems, your Jehus, of four-in-hand teams, write their own biographies in every detail of the " turn-out.'* Maurice Scanlan was a sporting Attorney, and from the group of game cocks neatly painted on the hind panel, to the vriry, weL. bred, and weU looking screws before him, all was indicative of the man. The conveyance was high, and red-wheeled ; the nags were a chesnut and a grey ; he drove them without winkers or bearing- reins, wearing his white hat a very little on one side, and gracefully tilting his elbow as he admonished the wheeler with the "crop" of his whip. He was a good-looking, shovry, vulgar, self-sufficient kind of fellow, with consummate shrewdness in all business transactions, only marred by one solitary weak point — an intense desire to be received intimately by persons of a station above his own, and to seem, at least, to be the admitted guest of very fashionable society. It was not a very easy matter to know if this Lord-worship of his was real, or merely affected, since certainly the profit he derived from the assumption was very considerable, and Maurice was eiitrusted with a variety of secret-service transactions, and private affairs for the Ifobility, which they would never have dreamed of committing to the hands of their more recognised advisers. If men would have been slow to engage his services in any grave or important suit, he was invaluable in all the ordinary and constantly- occurring events of this changeful world. He knew every one's diffi- culties and embarrassments. There was not a hitch in a settlement, nor a spavin in your stables, could escape him. He seemed to possess a kind of intuitive appreciation of a flaw ; and he pounced upon a 34 THE MAETINS Or CEO' MAETIIT. defect with a rapidity that counterfeited genius. To these gifts he added a consummate knowledge of his countrymen. He had emerged from the very humblest class of the people, and he knew them thoroughly ; with all their moods of habitual distrust and momentary enthusiasm — ^with all their phases of sanguine hopefulness he was familiar; and he could mould, and fashion, and wield them to his will, as passive subjects as the heated bar under the hammer of the smith. As an Electioneering. Agent he was unequalled. It was precisely the sphere in which his varied abilities were best exercised; and it was, besides, an arena iu which he was proud of figuring. Por a whUe he seemed — at least in his own eyes — to stand on a higher eminence than the candidate he represented, and to be a more pro- minent and far grander personage than his principal. In fact, it was only under some tacit acknowledgment of this temporary supremacy that his services were obtainable ; his invariable stipulation being, that he was to have the entire and uncontrolled direction of the Election. Envious tongues and ungenerous talkers did, indeed, say that Maurice insisted upon this condition with very different objects in view, and that his unlimited powers foimd their pleasantest exercise in the inexplorable realms of secret, bribery ; however,, it is but fair to say, that he was eminraitly successful, and that one failure alone in his whole career occurred to show the proverbial capiiciousness of fortune. "With the little borough of Oughterard he had become so identified that his engagement was regarded as one of the first elements of suc- cess. Hitherto, indeed, the battle had been always an easy one. The Liberal party — as they pleasantly assumed to style themselves — had gone no further iu opposition than an occasional burst of intemperate language, and an effort — usually a failure — at a street row during the Election. So little of either energy or organisation had marked their endeavours, that the great leader of the day had stigmatised their town with terms of heavy censuBBj and even pro- nounced them unworthy of the cause. An emissary, deputed to- report upon the political state of the borough, had described the voters as mere dependants on the haughty purserproud. proprietor of Cro' Martin, who seemed, even without an effort, to nomiQate the sitting Member. The great measure of the year '29^— the Catholic? EeUef Biilr- had now, however, suggested, to even more apathetic constituencies the prospect of a successful struggle, The thaught of being regis- THE MAETUTS OF CBO' MABTIN. 35 sented by " one of their own sort" was no mean stimuknt to exer- tion; and' the leading spirits of the place had frequently eonferred together as to what steps should be taken to rescue the borough from the degrading thraldom of an aristocratic domination. Lord. Kil!- morris, it is true, was rather popular with them than the reverse. The eldest son of an Earl, who only eared to sit in Parliament- on easy terms, till the course of time and events should call him to the Upper House, he never took any very decided political line, but sat on Tory benches and gave an occasional vote to Liberal measures, as. though foreshadowing that new school who were to take the field under the middle designation, of Conservatives. Some very remote- rektionship to Lady Dorothea's family had. first introduced him. to the Martins' notice; and partly from this: connexion, and partly because young Harry Martin was too young to sit in. Parliament,, they had contiaued to support him to the present time. Mr. Martin, himself, cared very little for politics ; had he even cared more he would not have sacrificed to them one jot of that indolent, lazy, apathetic existence which alone he seemed to prize. Hewas rather grateful than otherwise to Lord Kilmorris for takings upon him the trouble of a contest, if there should be such a thing. His great excuse through life, at least to himself, had ever been, that he was "unprepared." He had been in that unhappy state about everything since he was bom, and so, apparently, was he destined to continue to the very last. With large resources, he was never prepared for any sudden demand for money. "When called on for any exertion of mind or body — when asked to assist a. friend, or rescue a relation from difficulty, he was quite unprepared ; and so convinced was he that this was a fatality under which he laboured, that no sooner had he uttered the expression than he totally absolved himself from every shadow of reproach that, might attach to his lukewarmness. The uncontrolled position he occupied, joined to the solitary isola- tion in which he lived, bad doubtless engendered this cold and heartless theory. There was no one to dispute his wiQ — none to gainsay his opinions. There was not for him any occasion for the healthful exertion which is evoked- by opposition, and he sunk gradually down into a moping, Hstless-, well-meaning, but utterly good-for-nothing Q-entleman, who would have been marvellously amazed had any one arraigned him for neglect of. his station and its great requirements. That such an insolent possibility could be, was only demonstrated n2- 36 THE MAETHfS OF CEO' MAETIIT. to him in that morning's newspaper. To be called a despot was bad enough, but a petty despot^and to be told that such despotism was already doomed — aroused in him a degree of indignation all the more painful that the sensation was one he had not experienced for, many a year back. Whose fault was it that such an impertinence had ever been uttered ? Doubtless, Kilmorris's. Some stupid speech, some ab- surd vote, some ridiculous party move had brought down this attack upon him ; or perhaps it was Mary, with her new-fangled ideas about managing the estate, her school-houses, and her model farms. The ignorant people had possibly revolted against her interference ; or it might be Lady Dorothea herself, whose haughty manner had given offence ; at all events, Tie was blameless, and strange to say, either he was not perfectly assured of the fact, or that the assumption was not pleasant, but he seemed very far from being satisfied with the explanation. In the agitated mood these feelings produced, a servant came to inform him that Mr. Scanlan had just arrived. " Say I'm out — I'm unwell — I don't feel quite myself to-day. Call Miss Mary to him.". And with an impatient gesture he motioned the servant away. " Miss Mary will be down in a few minutes. Sir," said the man, entering the room where Mr. Scanlan stood arranging his whiskers- before the chimney-glass, and contemplating with satisfaction his general appearance. " It was Mr. Martin himself, Thomas, that I wanted to see." " I know that. Sir, but the Master isn't well this morning ;• he told me to send Miss Mary to you." " All right," said Scanlan, giving a finishing touch to the tie of his cravat, and then gracefully bestowing his person into an easy-chair. To common observation he looked perfectly unconcerned in every gesture, and yet no man felt less at his ease at that moment than Mr. Maurice Scanlan ; and though the cause involves something like a secret, the reader shall know it. Mr. Scanlan had seen a good deal of the world — that is, of Ms world. He had mixed with Barristers and Solicitors, " Silk Growns," Masters in Chancery, and even Puisne Judges had he come into contact with; he had mingled in turf experiences with certain sporting Lords and Baronets, swapped horses, and betted and handicapped -with men of fortune ; he had driven trotting-matches, and ridden hurdle-races against young heirs to good estates, and somehow always found himself not inferior in worldly craft and address to those he came into contact with — nay, he even fancied that he was occasionally rather a little more wide-awake than his opponents ; and what with a little blustering, here, a little THE MAETINS OP CEO' MAETIN. 37 blarney, there, a dash of mock frankness to this man, or an air of im- pulsive generosity to the other: — an accommodating elasticity, in fact, that extended to morals, manners, and principles— he found that he was, as he himself styled it, " a fair match with equal weights for any- thing going." There was but one individual alone in presence of whom he. in reality felt his own inferiority deeply and painfully; strange to say, that was Miss Martin ! At first sight this would seem almost unintelligible. She was not either a haughty beauty, presuming on the homage bestowed upon her by high and distinguished admirers, nor was she any greatly gifted and cultivated genius, dominating over lesser intelligences by the very menace of her acquirements. She was simply a high-spirited, , frank, unaffected girl, whose good breeding and good sense seemed alike instinctive, and, who read with almost intuition the shallow artifices by which such natures as Scanlan's impose upon the world. She had seen him easily indolent with her Uncle, obsequiously deferential to my Lady, all in the same breath, while the side-look of tyranny he could throw a refractory tenant appeared just as congenial to his nature. It was some strange consciousness which told him he could not deceive her, that made Scanlan ever abashed in her presence, and by the self-same impulse was it that she was the only one in the world for whose good esteem he would have sacrificed all he possessed. While he waited for her coming he took a leisurely survey of the room. The furniture, less costly and rich than at Cro';.Martin, was all marked by that air of propriety and comfort so observable in rich men's houses. There were the hundred appliances of ease and luxury, that show how carefully the most trifling inconveniences are warded off, and the course of daily life rendered as untroubled as mere material enjoyments can secure. Scanlan sighed deeply, for the thought crossed his mind how was a girl brought up in this way ever to stoop to ally her fortune to a man like him ? "Was it, then, possible that he nourished such a presumption ? Even so. Maurice was of an aspiring turn ; he had succeeded in twenty things that a dozen years past he had never dared to dream of. He had dined at tables, and driven with men whose butlers and valets he once deemed very choice company ; he had been the guest at houses where once his highest ambition had been to see the interior as a matter of ciu-iosity. ". Who could say where he might be at last ?" Besides this, he knew from his own knowledge of family matters that she had no fortune, that her father was infinitely more likely to leave debts than an inheritance behind him, and that her Uncle was the last man in the world ever to think of a marriage-portion for one he could not afford to part with. 88 THE MAETINS OP CEO' HA-ETHST. QJhere •was, ten, no 'saying what turn of fortune might present •him in an admiseible form as a •suitor. At all events;, there was no ■rival in the field, >and iTaniriee had seen many .^ prize won "by a" walk -over" purely far want of a competitor in the race. l^iTotwithstanding all these very .excellent and reassumig consifle- Tations, Maurice Scaillan could not overcome :a most uncomfortable fiense.iofawkwaaidness as Mary Martin enterefl the room, andisaluting him with easy famiHarity, said, "I'm quite ashamed of having madfi you wait, Mr. 'Scamlan ; but I was in the village when I gab my tJncle's message. I find that he is not well -enough ;to leceive you, and if I can " " I'm sure it's only too much honour you do me, Mias Maay-; I never expected to have the pleasure of this interview; indeed, it wiH be very hard for me to think of business at all at all." " That would be most ninfortunate after your coming so Sai -on account of it," ;Baid she, half archly, while she^seated herself on a sofa 'St some distance .from him. " If it were a question about the estate. Miss Mary," said he, in his most obsequious manner, " tliere's mobody equal to yourself ; or if it were anything at aU but what it is, I know well that you'd see your way out of it; but'the present is a matter of politics — it's about iie borough." "That weary iborough," said "she, sighing; "and are we .about to have another Election?" ■" That's it. Miss Mary ;" and Lord EHmoms writes me to say that he'U be over next week, and hopes he'U. find aU his Jjdends here as well disposed towairds him .-as. ever." "" Has he written to my Uncle ?" asked Maxy, hastily. " Mo ; and that's exactly whsit I came about ; there was a Mnd of a'Coldness — ^^more my Lady's, I think, than on Mr. Martin's part ; and Lord Kilmorris feels a kind of delicacy — dn fact, he 'doesn't jightly know how he stands at Cro' Martin" — here he paused, in hopes that she .would help him by even a word, but she was peafectly ^ent and attentive, ..and he went on — "so that, feeling himself embarrassed, and at the same time knowing how much he owes to the Martin in- terest " "'Well, goion," said she, calmly, as he -came a second time to a dead stop. " It isn't so easy, then. Miss Mary," said he, with a long Bigh," for *here are so many things enter into it — ao much of :politics. and party and what not — that I quite despair of making myself intelligible > though, perhaps, if I was to see your Uncle he'd msie out my mean- ing." THE MAHTINS OF CEO' MAETIN'. 89 "Shall I ±17 and induce him to reoeaye you, thenP" said she, quietly. " Well, then, I don't like asking it,^' Baid he, doubtfully ; " for, after aU, there's mohody-oan break it to him as well as youiself." " Break.it to liLn, Mr. Scanlaa ?" said she, in astonishment. " Faith, it% tiie very word, then," said he, " for do -what one will, say what they may, it wiU be sure to surprise him, if it does no worse." " You alarm me. Sir ; and yet I feel that if you would speak boldly out your meaning there is probably no cause for fear." "I'll just'doiso, then, Miss Mary^ butat the same time I'd have you to understand that I'm taking a responsibility on myself that his Lordship never, gave me any warrant for, and that there is not another ^" Mr. Scanlan stopped, but only in time, for, whether it was the fervour in which he utteredthese words, or that Miss Martin anticipated what was about to follow, her cheek became scarlet, and a . most unmistakable expression of her eyes recalled the worthy prac- titioner to all his wonted caution. " The matter is this, Miss Martin," said he, with a degree of deference more marked than before, " Lord Eflmorris is dissatisfied with the way your Uncle supported him at the last Election ; he complains of the hard conditions imposed upon him as to his line of conduct in the House ; and, above all, he feels insulted by a letter Lady D.OTothea wrote him, full of very harsh ex- pressions and haird insinuations — I never saw it myself, but that's his account of it. In fact, he's very angry." " And means to throw up -the borough, in short," broke in Mary. " I'm afraid not. Miss Mary," said the other, in a half whisper. " What then ? — what can he purpose doing ?" " He means to try and come in on his own interest," said Scanlan, who uttered the words with an effort, and seemed to feel relief when they were out. " Am I to understand that he would contest the borough "with us ?'' Scanlan nodded an affirmative. "No, no, Mr. ■Scanlan, this is some mistake— some misapprehension on your- part ; his Lordship may very possibly feel aggrieved — he may have some cause, for aught I know, about something in the last Elec- tion, but this mode of lesenting it is quite out of the question- downright impossible." " The best way is to read his own words. Miss Martin. There's his letter," said he, handing one towards her, which, however, she made no motion to take. " If you won't read it, then, perhaps you wiU permit me to do so. 4(X THE MAETIITS OF CEO' MAETIK. It's very short, too, for lie says at the end he will write more fully to- morrow." Mr. Scanlan here muttered over several lines of the epistle untilhe came to the following : " ' I am relieved from any embarrassment I should have felt at breaking with the Martins by reflecting over the altered conditions of party, and the new aspect politics must assume by the operation of the Emancipation Act. The old ways and tradi- tions of the Tories must be abandoned at once and for ever; and though Martin in his life of seclusion and solitude will not perceive this necessity, we here all see and admit it. I could, therefore, no longer represent his opinions, since they would find no echo in the House. To stand for the borough I must stand on my own views, which, I feel bold to say, include justice to both of the contending factions.' " " Admirably argued," broke in Mary. " He absolves himself from aU ties of gratitude to my TJnele by adopting principles the reverse of all he ever professed." " It's very like that, indeed. Miss Mary," said Scanlan, timidly. " Very like it. Sir ; it is exactly so. Really, the thing would be too gross if it were not actually laughable;" and as she spoke she arose and paced the room in a manner that showed how very little of the ludicrous side of the matter occupied her thoughts. " He will s^ad for the borough-^he means to stand in opposition to us ?" " That's his intention — at least, if Mr. Martin shoidd not come to the conclusion that it is better to support his Lordship than risk throvring the seat into the hands of the Eoman Catholics." " I can't follow all these intrigues, Mr. Scanlan. I confess to you, frankly, that you have puzzled me enough already, and that I have found it no small strain on my poor faculties to conceive a G-entleman being- able to argue himself into any semblance of self-approval by such sentiments as those which you have just read ; but I am a poor country girl, very ignorant of great topics and great people. The best thing T can do is to represent this afiair to my TJncle, and as early as may be." " I hope he'll not take the thing to heart. Miss ; and I trust he'U acquit me " " Be assured he'U despise the whole business most thoroughly. Sir. I never knew him take any deep interest in these themes : and if this be a fair specimen of the way they are discussed, he was all the wiser for his indifference. Do you make any stay in the village ? Will it be inconvenient for you to remain an hour or so ?" " I'll wait your convenience, Miss, to any hour," . said Scalilan, with if p. \i n^' -■-'1 ft ' ^ f:>':'^'r THE MAETIirS Or CEO' MAETIN. 41 an air of gallantry which, had she been less occupied with her thoughts, might have pushed her hard to avoid s milin g at. " I'll be down at Mrs. Cronan's till I hear from you. Miss Mary." And with a look of as much deferential admiration as he dared to bestow, Scanlan took.his leave, and mounting to his box, assumed the ribbons with a graceful elegance and a certain lackadaisical languor that, to himself at least, appeared demonstrative of an advanced stage of the tender passion. " Begad, she's a fine girl ; devil a lie in it, but she hasn't her equal ! and as sharp as a jieedle^ too," muttered he, as he jogged along the shingly beach, probably for the. first time in his whole life for- getting the efiect he was producirig on the bystanders. CHAPTEE V. A STUDIO AND AN AKTIST. "Is my Uncle . in the Library, Terence ?" asked Mary of a very corpulent old man, in a red-brown vrig.. , " No, Miss, he's in the — bother it, then, if I ever can think of the name of it." " The Studio, you mean," said she, smiling. " Just so. Miss Mary," replied he, with a sigh, for he remembered certain penitential hours passed by himself in the same locality. " Do you think you could manage to let him know I want him — that is, that I have something important to say to him?" "It's clean impossible. Miss, to get near him when he's there. Sure, isn't he up on a throne, dressed out in goold and dim'onds, and as cross as a badger besides, at the way they're tormenting him ?" , " Oh, that tiresome picture, is it never to be completed ?" muttered she, half unconsciously. " The saints above know whether it is or no," rejoined Terence, " for one of the servants told me yesterday that they rubbed every bit of the Master out and began him all again, for my 'Lady said he wasn't half haggard enough, or worn-looking ; but by my conscience if he goes on as he's^doing he ought to satisfy them." " Why, I thought it was Henderson was sitting," said Mary, some- what amused at the old man's commentaries. 42 THE MAETISS OP jOED' MAETUT. •" So he was ; but tfaey rubbed thirn >oui, too, for it iseems now he ought to be bald, and ihej've -sent him into 'Gkighterard. to get Jiig head shaved." " And what were ffou, Teray ?" ■" Arrah, who tnows ?" said he, querulously. " At SxsblL was to be sBomebody's mother that was always ciyiri' ; but they weren't pleased with the way I done it, and then they made me a monk, .and after that they put two hundred-weight of armour on me, and made me lean my head on iny arm as if I was overcome ; and faith, so I mm, for I dropped off asleep, and feUiatoa spot of varnish, And i'jn in flisgrace now, glory ibe tajftod ! audU only hope it may last." "I wish I shared your. fortune, Terry, with;an my heart," said Mary, with some difficulty preserviag her gravity. " Couldn't it catch fire— by accident, I mean, Miss — some evening after dark?" whispered Terry, confidentially. "Them's matarials that would burn easy! for upon my conscience if it goes on much longer there won't be. a sarvant will staj in the sarvice. They had little Tom Began holding a dish of charcoal so long that he tuk to his bed on Friday last, -and was never up siace ; and Jiuny Moore says she'd rather lave the place than wear that undacent dress ; and whisht,, there's murder goia' on now inside !" And with that the old fellow waddled off with a speed that seemed quite disproportioned to 4iis years. While Mary was stiU hesitating as to what she should do, the door suddenly opened, and a man in a mediiaBval coBtnme rushed out, ituggimg after him a large bloodhound, whose glaring eyebaUs and frothy mouth betokened iutense paffiion. Passing liurriedly forward, Mary beheld Lady Dorothea bending over the fainting figure of a short little man, who lay on the fioor, while her Uncle, tottering •under a costume he covild barely carry, was trying to sprinkle "water tover him from an xim of three feet in height. " Mr. Crow has iaiated — ^mere fright, nothing more !" said Lady Dorothea. " In stepping backward from the canvas he unluckily trod upon Fang's paw, and the savage creature at once sprung on him. That stupid wretch, Began, one of your favourites, Miss Martin, never pulled him off tiU he had torn poor Mr. Crow's coat clean in twoi" "Egad, if I hadn't smashed my soeptre over the dog's head the mischief wouldn't have stopped there ; but he's coming to. Axe you •better, Crow ? How do you feel, man ?" " I hope you are better. Sir ?" said Lady Dorothea, in .an admirable blending of grand benevolence and condescension. ■THE TffAETIHB 01' OEO M4ETIK. 43 " Infinite^ better—supremely happy besides, to iave become tbe object of your Ladyship's kind inquiries," said the little man, sitting up, and looking around with a very ghastly .effort at urbanity and ease. " I never knew IFang to bite any one," Ba,id Maiy. " Doesn't she, by jingo!" exclaimed -the Artist, who with 'difficulty .cau^t himself in time before he placed his hand on the supposed -seat of his injuries. Jft, "•Bhe shall be muzzled in futiS^^aid Lady Dorothea, ihaughtily, repressing the familiar tone of the Ascussion. " I think— indeed I feel sure, I could get her in :from memory, my Lady ; she's a very remarkable creature, and makes am impression on one." As he uttered these words ruefully, he lifted from the floarthe ■fragment of his'coat-skirt,.:and gazed mournfully ;at it. " I suppose we must suspend prDoeedings," said Lady Dorothea ; "though really it is a pity to lose the opportunity .of Miss Martin's presence — an honour she so veiy rarely accords us." " I think after a few minutes or so, my Lady, I might feel equal," said Mr. Crow, rising and retreating to a wall, with a flegree of •caution that showed he entertained grave fears as to the state of his halbiliments — " I might feel equal, if not exactly to delineate Miss Martin's classic features, at least to throw in '" " I couldn't think of such a thing ; I should be wretched at the idea otf engaging your attention ait such a moment^" said Mary, with a carelessness that contrasted strongly with her words ; while she added with earnestness, " Besides, I'm not sure I could spare the time." " Tou see, Sir," said her Ladyship to the Artist, '' you have to deal with a young lady whose occupations are like those of a Premier. The Duke of WeUington can vouchsafe a sitting for his portrait, but Miss Martin cannot spare the time for it." " "M&j, Aunt Dorothy, if I were the Duke of Wellington I should do as he does. It is being Mary Martin, whose picture can have no interest for any one, enables me to follow the bent of :my own wishes." " Humility is another of her perfections," said Lady Dorothea, with a look that but too palpably expressed her fedling towards her Mece. As Mary was assisting her Uncle to get rid of some of his super- fiuous draperies, neither of them overheard this remark'; while Mr. 'Crow was too deeply impressed with his own calamities to pay jany attention to it. " Mr. Scanlan has been very anxious to see you, Dnde," whispered Mary in his ear. ■" He hoa something of importance to communicate about the borough." 44 THE MAETINS Or OEO' MAETIM'. " Can't you manage it yourself, Molly ? Can't you contrive some- how to spare me this annoyance?" " But you really ought to hear what he has to say." " I perceive that Miss Martin has a secret of moment to impart to you; pray let me not trouble the interview hy- my presence," said Lady Dorothea. > And she swept haughtily out of the room, throwing a most disdainful glance at her ]b|rf5and as she went. ■ " There, by George ! you've^Htted me a pleasant afternoon at all events !".Baid Martin, angrily^lPhis Niece, as, throwing off the last remnant of his regal costume, he rushed out, banging the door pas- sionately behind him. Mary sat down to compose her thoughts in quiet, for Mr. Crow had previously made his escape unobserved ; and truly there was need of some repose for her agitated and wearied faculties. Her Uncle's de- pendence upon her for everything, and her Aunt's jealousy of the influence she had over him, placed her in a position of no common diffi- culty, and one of which every day seemed to increase the embarrass- ment. For a moment she thought she would have preferred a life of utter insignificance and obscurity, but as suddenly it occurred to her : " What had I been without these duties and these cares ? For me there are few, if any, of the ties that bind other girls to their homes. I have neither mother nor sister ; I have none of the resources which educa- tion suggests to others. My mind cannot soar above the realities that surround me, and seek for its enjoyments in the realms of fancy ; but, perhaps, I can do better," said she, proudly, " and make of these same every-day materials the poetry of an actual existence." As she spoke she threw open the window, and walked out upon the terrace over the sea. The fishermen's boats were all standing out from shore — a tiny fieet, whose hardy crews had done no discredit to the proudest three-decker. Though the heavy gale of the morning had gone down, it still blew fresh, and a long rolling sweE thundered along in-shore, and sent a deep booming noise through many a rocky cavern. High above this deafening clamour, however, rose the hearty cheers of the fishermen as they detected Mary's figure where she stood, and. many a tattered rag of showy bunting was hoisted to do her honour. Never insensible to such demonstrations, Mary felt at the moment almost overpowered with emotion. But a moment back and she bewailed her isolation and friendlessness ; and see, here were hundreds who would have resigned life in her behalf. Still as the boats receded the wind bore to her ears the welcome sounds ; and as she heard them, her heart seemed to expand and swell with. THE MABTINS 01' OBO'- MABTIN . 45 generous thouglits and good wislies, while along lier cheeks heavy tears were rolling. " What need have I of other friends than such as these ?" cried she, passionately. " They understand me, and I them ; and as for the great world, we are not made for each other !" "My own sentiments to a 'T,' Mass," said a soft, mincing v^ice behind her ; and Mary- turned apii| beheld Mr. Crow. He had arrayed himself in a small velveffknjLcap and a blouse, ap.d- stood mizing the colours on his palette *™r perfect composure|^», • "I'm afraid. Miss Martin, there's an . end of the great " Histouical." Tour Uncle wiU scarcely be persuaded to put on the robes again, and it's a downright pity. I was getting a look of weariness — imbecility I might call it — into his features that would have crovmed the work." " I don't think I ever knew what your subject, was !" said she, half indolently. * " The Abdication of Charles V., Miss Martin," said he, proudly. " This is the fourteenth time I have depicted it ; and never, I am bound to say, with more favourable " studies." Tour Uncle is fine ; my Lady, gorgeous ; I don't say what I'd like of another lovely and gifted individual ; but even down to that old rogue of a butler that would insist on taking snuff through the bars of his helmet, they were all grand. Miss — positively grand!" Seeing that she appeared to bestow some attention to him, Mr. Crow went on : " Tou see. Miss, in the beginning of a great effort of this kind there is no progress, made at all. The sitters keep staring at one another, each amused at some apparent absurdity in costume or attitude ; and then, if you ask them to call up a look of love, hate, jealousy, or the Hke, — ^it's a grin you get — a grin that would shame a hyena. By degrees, how- ever, they grow used to the situation ; they ' tone down,' as one might say, and learn to think less of themselves, and be more natural. • It was sheer fatigue, downright exhaustion, and nothing else, was making your Uncle so fine; and if he could have been kept on low diet — I didn't like to mention it, though I often wished it — I'd have got a look of cadaverous madness into his face that would have astonished you." By this time Mr. Crow had approached his canvas, and was work- ing away vigorously, the action of his brush appearing to stimulate his loquacity. Mary drew near to observe him, and insensibly felt at- tracted by that fascination which the progress of a picture invariably " This is the Queen," continued he ; " she's crying— as well she might,-»-she doesn't rightly know whether the old fellow's out of his 46 THE MAETIKS, OE OBO' MABTIH.. mind or riot ; she has her misgiwngsi and she doesn't half like that old thief of a Jesuit that's whispering in the King's ear. This was to be yon, Miss Martin ; you were heferottied to one of the young Princes, but somehow you. weren't quite right in your head, and- you are look- ing. on, rather more amused, you. perceive, than in any way moved.;; you were holding up your beautiful petticoat,, all covered, with gold and'prkrious stones, as much asjto. say, ' Ain't I fine this morning ?' when yon heard the herald's- tru^pt announce the Prince of Orange ; and therg' he is — or there h#l8^ht to be — coming in at the door. There's a chap pulling the curtoin aside ; but I suppose, now," added he, with a sigh, " we'll never see the Prince there !" " But where could you have foxmd a study for your Prince, Mr. Crow?" "I have him here, Miss," said Crow, laying down his brush to take a small sketch-book from the pocket of his blouse. " I have him here ;, and there wouldn't have been a finer head in the canvas — pale, stem-looking, but gentle withal ; a fellow, that would say ' Lead them to the scafibld,' as easy as winking, and that would tremble' and falter under the eye of a woman he loved. .There he is, now — the hair, you know, I put in" myselfj. and the bit. of beard, juat for a little Titian efiect, but the eyes are his own, and. the mouth not. as good as his own." " It's a striking head, indeed," said Miry, still contemplating it attentively. " Thaf s exactly what it is ; none of your common brain-boxeSj.but a grand speciinen of the classic head, civilised down to a mediaeval period ;- the fbrty^first descendant of an Emperor or a Proeansnl,, Uving at the Pincian Hall, or at his Villa on the Tiber, atting for his Kkenesato G-iordano.'" " There is a painful expression in the features, too," addedshe, slowly. " So there is ; and I believe he's, in bad health." " Indeed !" said Mary, starting. " I quite forgot there was. an original all this time." " He's alive ; and what's more, he's not a mile from where we're standing." Mr. Crow looked cautiansly about him as he spoke, as if fearful of being overheaid,- and then approaching dose to Miss Martin, and dropping his voice to a whisper, said, " I can venture to tell you' what I daren't tell my Lady — ^for I know well if she suspected who it was would be the Prince of Orange, begad I might. abdicate too, as well as the King. That young man there is the son of a grocer in Oughterard — tcue;. every word of it — Dan Nelliganls THE maethts op ceo' maetin. 47 son ! and you may fancy now what ehance he'd have of seeing himself on that canvas if her Ladyship knew it." " Is this the youth who has so distinguished himself at College ?" asked Maiy. " The very one. I made that sketch of him when he was reading for the medal; ha didn't know it,, for I was in a. window opposite, where he couldn't see me ; and when I finished he leaned his chin in his: hand and looked up at the sky, as if thinking, and the expression of his up-turned face^ with the Ups a"little apart, was so 'fine that I took it down at once, and there it is," said- he, turning over tbe page and presenting a few pencil lines lightly but spiritedly drawn. " A young gentleman left this packet. Miss Mary, and said it was for you," said a servant, presenting a small sealed enclosure. Maiy Martin, blushed deeply, and she opened the parcel, out of which fell her own glove, with a- card. " The very man we were talking of," said Mr. Crow, lifting it up and handing it to her. " Joseph Nelligani That^s like the old proverb ; talk of the " but she was gone ere he could finish hia quotation. "There she goes," said Crow, sorrowfully, "and if she'd have stayed ten minutes more I'd have had her all complete !" and he con- templated with glowing satisfaction a hasty sketch he had just inade in his book. " It's like her— ^-far more than anything I have done yet ; but after all " and he shook his head mournfully as he, felt the poor pretension of his efforts. " Small blame to me to fail, any- how," added he; after a pause. " It would take Titian himself to paint her ; and even he couldn't give all the softness and delicacy of the expression — that would take EaffaeEe;. and Vandyke for her eyes, when they flash out at times ; and Gt-iordano for the hair. Oh, if he eould have seen it just as I did a minute ago, when the wind blew it back, and the sunlight fell over it ! Arrah !" cried i he; impatiently, as with a passionate gesture he tore the leaf from Ms book- and, crushed it in his hand — " airah ! "WTiat right have I even to attempt it?" And he sat down, covering Ha face withihis hands, to muse and mourn in sHence; Simpson — or as he was more generally knowni. Simmy Crow ^was neither a Michael Angelo nor a Eaffaelle, but he was a simple-minded^ honest-hearted, creature, whose life had been a long hand-to-hand fight with fortune. Originally a drawing-m-aater in some eountrv academy, the caprice — ^for it was little else — of a whimsical old lady- had sent him abroad to study ; that is, sent him to contemplate the very highest triumphs of genius with a mind totally unprepared and 48 THE MAETINS OP CEO' MAETIN. uncultivated— to . gaze on the grandest conceptions without the shadow of a clue to them— and to try and pick up. the secrets of art when he stood in utter ignorance of its iirst principles. The conse- quence was, he went wild, in the enthusiasm of his admiration ; he became a passionate worshipper at the shrine, but never essayed to he priest at the altar. Disgusted and dispirited by his own miserable attempts, he scarcely ever touche4 a pencil, hut roved from city to city, and from gallery to gallery entranced — enchanted by a fascina- tion that gradually insinuated itself into his very being, and made up the whole aim and object of his thoughts. This idolatry imparted an ecstasy to his existence that lifted him above every accident of fortune ; — poor, hungry, and ill-clad, he still could enter a gallery or a church — sit down before a Gruido or a Eembrandt, and forget all, save the glorious creation before him. By the sudden death of his patroness he was left, vdthout a shilling, hundreds of miles from home. Humble as his requirements were, he could not supply them; he offered to teach, but it was in a land where aU have access to the best models ; he essayed to copy, but his efforts were unsaleable. To return home to hiis country was now his great endeavour, and after innumerable calamities' and reverses, he did arrive in England, whence he made his way to Ireland, poorer than he had quitted it. Had he returned in better plight — had he come back with some of the appearance of success, the chances are that he might have thriven on the accidents of fame ; but he was famishing and in beggary. Some alleged that he was a worthless fellow, who had passed a life of idleness and debauch ; others, that he was not without ability, but that his habits of dissipation rendered him hopeless ; and a few — a very few — pitied him as a weak-brained enthusiast, who had no bad about him, but was bom to failure ! In his utter destitution he obtained work as a house-painter — an employment which he followed for three or four years, and in which capacity he had been sent by his master to paint some ornamental stucco-work at Cro' Martin. The ability he displayed attracted Lady Dorothea's notice, and she engaged him to decorate a small garden viUa with copies from her own designs. He was entirely successful, and so much pleased was her Ladyship, that she withdrew him from his ignoble servitude and attached him to her own househ'old, where now he had been living two years, the latter half of which period had been passed in the great work of which we have already made some mention. It so chanced, that poor Simmy had never sold but two copies in his life : one was the Abdication of Charles V., the other, the Finding of Moses ; and so, out of gratitude to these successes, he THE MABTISS 0! CEO' MABTIN. 49 went on multiplying new versions of these subjects ad infinitum, eternally writing fresh, variations on the old themes, till the King and the Lawgiver flUed every avenue of his poor brain, and he ceased to have a belief that any other story than these could be the subject of high art. Happy as he now was, he never ceased to feel that his position ex- posed him to many an ungenerous suspicion. " They'll say I'm hum- bugging this old lady," was the constant sel&reproach he kept repeat- ing. " I know weU what they'll think of me — I think I hear the sneering remarks as I pass." And so powerfully had this impression caught hold of him, that he vowed, come what would of it, he'd set out on his travels again, and face the cold stem world, rather than Uve on what seemed to be the life of a flatterer and a sycophant. He could not, however, endure the thought of leaving his "Abdication" un- finished, and he now only remained to complete this great work. " Then I'm off," said he ; " and "then they'U see if poor Simmy. CroTv was the fellow they took him for." Better thoughts on tjiis theme- were now passing through his mind, from which at last he aroused' himself to proceed with his picture. Once at work, his spirits rose ;• hopes flitted across his brain, and he was happy. His own creations, seemed to smile benignly on him, too, and he felt towards them like a friend, and even talked with them, and confided Ms secret thoughts to them. In this pleasant mood we shall leave him then, nor shall we linger to listen to the avowals he is making of his upright intentions, nor his willingness to bear the hardest rubs of fortune, so that none can ra- proach him for a mean subserviency. CHAPTER VI. _ A DASH OF POLITICS. " "Well, what is it, MoUy— what is it all about ?" said Martin as Maiy entered the Library, where he was sitting with an unread news- paper stretched across his knee. "It is a piece of news Scanlan has brought. Uncle, and not of the most agreeable kmd, either." " Then I'll not hear more of it," broke he in, pettishly. "But you must, Uncle, since without your own counsel and advice nothmg can be done." ^.'avii.b 50 THE MAETnrs OF ceo' maetin. " Do nothing, then," added he, sulkily. "Come — .come — I'U not let you off thus easily," said she, ^passing an arm over his shoulder. " Tou know well I'd not tease you if it could be avoided, ibut here is a case where I can be no guide. It is sl question of the borough. Lord EHmorris thinks himself strong enough to stand on his own merits, and repudiates yoiir aid and his own principles together." Martin's attention being now secured, she went on;: " He says — at least as well as I can foUow his meaning — that with this new measure must come a total change of policy — abro- 'gating aH old traditions and old notions. That yow, of course, are Httle likely to adopt this opinion, at least at once, and so he releases you from all obligation to support him, and himself from all tie to represent t/oit." * " Thie is Lady Dorothy's doing," broke in Martin, passionately •; " her confounded letter-writing has brought this upon us. I told hesr that those fellows were trimming ; I warned her that they were only waiting for this BiU. to pass, to turn round upon us as a barbarous old remnant of feudal oppression ; but he daren't do it, MoUy — Eil- morris hasn't a leg to stand upon in the borough. He couldn't count upon twenty — ^no, not ten votes, without me. It's a scurvy trick, too, and it shan't succeed, if I stand for the borough myself." And he blurted out the last words as though they were the expression of an enmity driven to its last resources. " ISTo, no, Uncle," said she, caressingly ; " afber all you iave your- self told me of a Parliamentary life, that must never be. Its im.end- ing intrigues and petty plotting — its fatiguing days and harassiiig nights — ^its jealousies, and disappointments, and defeats, all hard enough to be borne by those who must make a trade of their politics, but utterly insupportable to oiie who, like you, can enjoy his inde- pendence. Do not think of that, I beseech you." " Then am I to see this man carry my own town in my very teeth ?" cried he, angrily. " Is that your advice to me ?" " Tou often spoke of Harry. Why not put him forward now he is coming home?" " Aij, and the very first thing he'U do will be to resign the seat be- cause he had not been consulted about the matter before the Election. Tou know him well, Molly ; and you know that he exchanged into a regiment in India simply because I had obtained his appointment to the Blues. His amiable mother's disposition is strong in him !" mut- tered he, half to himself, but loud enough to be heard by iia Niece. "At all events, see Scanlan," said she; "learn how the matter really stands ; don't rely on my version of it, but see what Lord Kil- THE MAETINS Or CKO' M^TIS. 51 morris intends, and tafce your own measures calmly and dispas- sionately afterwards." " Is Scanlan engaged for him ?" " I think not. I suspect that negotiations are merely in progress." "But if he even was," broke in Martin, violently, "I hav^ made the fellow what he is, and he should do as I ordered him. Let him come in, MoUy." "He is not in the house. Uncle ; he went down to the village." " JSTot here f Why didn't he wait ? What impertinence is this. ?" " He wished to bait his horses, and probably to get some breakfast for himself) which I had not the politeness to offer him here." " His horses ? His tandem, I'U be sworn," said Martin, with a sneer. " I'll ask for no better evidence of what we are coming to, than that Maurice Scanlan drives about the couuty with a tandem." "And handles, them very neatly, too," said Mary, with a malicious sparkle of her eye, for she couldn't refrain from the spiteful' pleasure of seeing her Uncle in a regular fury for a mere nothing. All the more salutary, as it withdrew his thoughts from weightier themes. " I'm sure of it, Miss Martin. I'm certain that he is a most accomplished whip, and as such perfectly sure to find favour in i/ou7- eyes. Let him come up here at once, however. Say I want him immediately," added he, sternly ; and Mary despatched a servant with the message, and sat down in front of her Uncle, neither utter- ing a word, nor even looking towards the other. " After all, Molly," said he, in the qxdet, indolent tone so natural to him — " after all, what does it signify who's in or who's out? I don't care a brass farthing about party Or party triumphs, and even if I did, I'm not prepared What are you laughing at — ^what is it amuses you now ?" asked he, half testily, while she laughed out in all the unrestrained flow of joyous mirth. " I have been waiting for that confession this half hour. Uncle, and reaUy I was beginning to be afraid of a disappointment. Why, dearest Uncle, you were within a hair's breadth of forgetting your principles, and being actually caught, for once in your life, prepared and ready." " Oh, is that it ? Is it my embarrassment, then, that affords you so much amusement ?" "Par from it," said she, affectionately. "I was only laughing at that quiet little nook youretire to whenever you aught to be up and doing. Unprepared you say. Not a bit of it. Indisposed, indolent, unwilling, indifierent, any of these you like ; but with a mind so full of its own good resources, and as ready to meet every contingency as £ 2 52 THE MAETINS OF OEO' MAETIIT. any one's, don't say you are unprepared. Come, now, bear witli me this once, dearest TJncle, and don't be angry if I throw myself, like a rock or sandbank, betwixt you and your harbour of refuge. But I hear Mr. Scanlan's voice, and so I shall leave you. Be resolute, TJncle,, determined, and — 'prepared!'"' And with a gesture half menace and half drollery, she left the room as the Attorney entered it. Scanlan, like most of those who came but casually in contact with Martin, had conceived a low idea of his capacity — lower by far than it deserved, since behind his indolence there lay a fund of good common sense — a mine, it must be acknowledged, that he seldom cared to work. The crafty Man of Law had, however, only seen hin^ in his ordinary moods of careless ease and idleness, and believed that pride of family, fortune, and position were the only ideas that found access to his mind, and that by a dexterous allusion to these topics it would always be an easy task to' influence and direct him. " "What's this my Niece has been telling me of Lord Kihnoiris ?" said Martin, abruptly, and without even replying to the salutations of the other, who hovered around a chair in an uncertainty as to whether he might dare to seat himself' uninvited — " he's going to contest the borough with us, isn't he ?" Scanlan leaned one arm on the back of the chair, and in a half careless way replied : " He is a&aid that you and he don't quite agree. Sir. He leans to measures that he suspects you may riot altogether approve of." " Come, come, none of this balderdash with me, Master Maurice. Has he bought the fellows already, or, rather, have you bought them ? Out with it, man. What will he give ? Name the sum, and let us treat the matter in a business-like way." Scanlan sat down and laughed heartily for some minutes. " I think you know me well enough, Mr. Martin, by this time," said he, " to say whether I'm a likely man to meddle with such a transaction." "The very likeliest in Ireland; the man I'd select amidst ten thousand." " I'm sorry to hear you say so. Sir, that's all," said the other, with a half offended air ; " nor do I see that anything in my past life warrants the imputation." Martin turned fiercely round, about to make a reply which, if once uttered, would have ended all colloquy between them, when suddenly catching himself he said, " Have you taken any engagement with his Lordship ?" " Not as yet. Sir — ^not formally, at least. My Lord has written me a very full statement of his ideas on politics, what he means to do. THE ItAETINS OT CUo' MAETIK. 53 and so forth, and he seems to think that anything short of a very liberal line would not give satisfaction to the electors." " Who told him so ? Who said that the borough was not perfectly content with the representative, that — that" — ^he stammered and faltered— "that its best friends had fixed upon, to defend its inte- rests ? Who said that a member of my own family might not desire the seat ?" This announcement, uttered with a tone very much akin to menace, failed to produce either the astonishment or terror that Martin looked for, and actually supposing that the expression had not been heard, he repeated it — "I say, Sir, has any one declared that a Martin wiU not stand ?" " I am not aware of it," said Scanlan, quietly. " WeU, Sir," cried Martin, as if unable to delineate the consequences, and wished to throw the weight of the duty on his opponent. " There would be a warm contest no doubt, Sir," said Scanlan, guardedly. " No, Sir ; nor the shadow of a contest," rejoined Martin, angrily. " You'll not tell me that my own town — the property that has been in my family for seven centuries and more, would presume — that is, would desire — to — to — break the ties that have bound us to each other?" " I wish I could tell you my mind, Mr. Martin, without oflfending you; that is, I wish you'd let me just say what my own opinion is, and take it for what it is worth, and in five minutes you'd be in a better position to make up your mind about this matter than if we went xm discussing it for a week." There was a dash of iadependence in his utterance of these words that actually startled3Iartin ; for, somehow, Scanlan had himself been surprised into earnestness by meeting with an energy on the other's part that h'e had never sus- pected ; and thus each appeared in a new light to the other. " May I speak out ? WeU, then, here is what I have to say : the Belief Bill is passed, the Catholics are now emancipated—" " Tes, and be " Martin caught himself with a cough,, and the other went on : " WeU, then, if they don't send one of their own set into ParKa- meut at once it is because they'd like to afiect, for a little whUe at least, a kind of confidence in the men who gave them their liberties O'ConneU himself gave a pledge, that of two candidates, equal in aU other respects, they'd select the Protestant ; and so they would for a time. And it lies with you, and other men of your station, to deter- mine how long that interval is to last ; for an interval it wiU only be, after aU. If you want to pursue the old system of ' keeping down,' 5i THE MAETINS O]? CRO' MAETIlf. you'U diiTe them at once into tte bands of the extreme Papist party ; who, thanks to yourselves, can no'w sit in Pasliiament ; but if you'll moderate yonr viewSj take an humbler standard of yoiir own power — conciliate a prejudice, here, obliterate an old ammosaty, there " " In fact," brokfe ia Martin, "swear by this new creed that Lord Kilmorris has sent you a sketch of in his letter ! Then FU tell you what. Sir — I'd send the borough and all in it to the '' " So you might, Mr. Martin, and you'd never mend matters in the least," broke he in, with great coolness. There was now a dead silence for several minutea ; at last Martin spoke, and it was in a tone and with a manner that indicated deep reflection : " I often said to those who would emancipate tiie Catholicse, ' Are you prepared to change places with them ? Tou have been in the ascendant a good many years, are you anxious now to tiy what the other side of the medal looks like ? for, if not^ leave them as t^|- are.' Well, they didn't believe me ; and maybe now my prophecy^ nigh its accomplishment." - ■ " It is very likely you. were, right, Sir ; but whether or not, it's the Law now, and let us make, the best of it," said Scanlah, who had a practical man's aversion to aH that savoured of mere speculative reasoning. " As how, for instance— iu what way, Mr. Scanlau?" aaked Martin, curtly. " If you'E not supp beggarly alliaface with the riff-raff, of a county town ; that was, indeed, a surprise for which I was in nowise prepared." "■"WieD, Sir, I'm sorry if I hare giTffli any offeiice," said Scamlan, rising, andj in a voice of the most gniet intonation,, making his ex- cuses : "Tour rejection of the counsel I was bold enough. to suggest leaves me, .at least, at liberty to offer my services where they will.Boti be rejected so contumeliously." " Is this a threat, Mr. Scanlan ?" said Martin, with a superoJliauB smile. " No, Sir ; mothing- of the kind. I know too well whai beeomes mt^ station, and is (fee to yours, to forget myself so far;- but as you don't set any value on the borough yonrseli^ and as there may be others' who do " " Stay and eat your dinner here, Scanlan," said. Martin. " I promised Mrs. Cronan, Si r " " Send an apology to her ; say it was mi/ fault — ^that I detained you." And without wspHag for a reply, Martin sauntered from the room, lieaving^ the Attorney alone with his reflections. CHAPTEE YII. A COLLEGE COMPETrTOE. ToOTfG JSuLLiQiJS had distanced all his competitors in his Collegp career ; some who were his equals in ability, were inferior to him in habits of hard and patient labour; and others, again, were faint- hearted to oppose one in whose success they affected to bdieve luck had no small share. One alone had the honest candour to avow thai he deserved his pre-eminence, on the true ground of his being their superior. This was a certain Jack Massingbred, a yoimg fellow of good family and fortune, and who, having been rusticated at Oxford, and involved in some outrage against authority in Cambridge, had come over to finish his CoUege career in the " Silent Sister." Ailthough Irish by birth, and connected with Ireland by ties; of family and- fortune, he had. passed aU has life in England,.his father having repairei to that country after the Union,- exchanging the barren honour of a seat for an Irish borough for a snug Hreasury 56 THE MXB'JU'Sa OF CBO' MAETIH. appointment. His son tad Tery early given proof of superior capa- city. At Eugby he was distinguished as a scholar ; and in his open- ing life at Oxford his talents won high praise for him.' Soon after his entrance, however, he had fallen into a fast set — of hunting, tandem-driving, and occasionally hard-drinking men— in whose society he learnt to forget aU his aim for CoUege success, and to he far more anxious for distinction as a whip, or a stroke-oar, than for all the honours of scholarship. At first he experienced a sense of pride in the thought that he could hold his own with either set, and take the lead in the Examination-hall as easily as he assumed the first place in the social meeting. A few reverses, however, taught him that his theory was a mistake, that no amount of ahOity will compensate for habits of idleness and dissipation, and that the discursive efforts of even high genius will be ever beaten by the steady results .of patient industry. Partly indifferent to what had once been his great ambi- tion — partly offended by his failures, Massingbred threw himself en- tirely into the circle of his dissipated companions, and became the very head and front of all their wildest excesses. An absurd exploit, far more ludicrous than really culpable, procured his rustication ; a not less ridiculous adventure drove him from Cambridge ; and he had at last arrived in Dublin, somewhat tamed down by his experiences, and half inclined to resume his long-abandoned desire for CoUege distinction. The habits of the Irish College were strikingly unlike those of either Oxford or Cambridge. Instead of a large class, consistiag of men of great fortune and high expectations, he found a very slight sprinkling of such, and even they made up nothing that resembled a party ; separated by age, political distiactions, and county associa- tions, all stronger in the poorer county than in the richer one ; they held little intercourse together, and were scarcely acquainted. If there was less actual wealth, there was also less credit to be obtained by an Irish student. The Dublin shopkeeper acknowledged no prestige in the " gownsman ;" he admitted him to no special privi- lege of book-debts, and as the great majority of the students resided with their famihes in the capital, there was no room for that reck- less extravagance so often prosecuted by those who are temporarily removed from domestic supervision. Massingbred was at first grievously disappointed. There were neither great names nor great fortunes amongst his new associates. Their mode of life, too, struck him as mean and contemptible. There were clever men reading for honours, and stupid men steering their slow way to a degree, but where were the fast ones ? where the THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIIT. 57 fellows who could tool a team or steer a six-oar ? who could dash up to town for a week's reckless life at Crocky's and Tattersall's, make their book on the Oaks, or perhaps ride the winnfer at a steeple ehase ? '■ It was all grievoudy slow. Dublin itself was a poor affair. He had few acquaintances, the theatres were bad, and public amusements there were none. His feUow-students, too, stood aloof from him. It was not that he was richer, better dressed, rode blood horses, dined at Morrisson's, wore kid gloves, and carried scented pocket-handker- chiefs. It was not that he had a certain air of puppyism aS he wended his way across the courts, or sauntered elegantly into chapel. They could have forgiven any or aU of these better than one of his offendiQgs, which was his accent. Strange as it may seem, his English voice and English pronunciation were the most unpopular things about him, and many a real defect in his character might have met a more merciful construction had he given no initial " H" to "humble," and evinced a more generous confusion about his " wills" and"shalls." Somewhat bored by a life« so unlike anything he had ever tried before, partly, perhaps, stimulated to show that he could do something beside canter his thorough-bred along SackviUe-street, or lounge in the stage-box in solitary splendour — he went in for honours, and, to the surprise of aU, succeeded. In fact, he beat two or three of the dis- tinguished men of his tim,e, till thrown by the chance of events into IfeUigan's division, he found dt once his superior, and saw that he was in presence of an intelligence considerably above his own. "When he had adventured on the struggle and found himself worsted, he acknowledged defeat with aU the generosity of an honourable nature, and forcing his way through the crowd as it issued from the Examina- tion-hall, was the very first to grasp NeUigan's hand and congratulate him on his success. " That was all got up — he was bursting with jealousy. The feUow could have strangled NeUigan," muttered one. " He certainly put a good face on the disaster," said another, more mercifully given ; " though I suppose he feels the thing sorely enough at heart!" That was exactly what he did not, however. Young Massingbred regarded a College distinction as no evidence whatever of a man's at- tainments. He had seen stupid feUows win the prize for which clever ones strove in vain ; but, at all events, he regarded such successes as contributing in nothing to the great race of Ufe, and had even a theory that such early efibrts were often the very means of exhausting the 58 THE MAETINS OP CBO' ilAMTXS. energieB that shoiild be exerted for the high rewards of the world. Besides iMa, hefelt a pleasiire in manfiJly Stowing that he was ahove a petty jealousy, and fairly owning himself beaten in a fair struggle. "Tou are the better man, NelUgan," said he, gaily; "I'll not try another fall with you, be assured." Strange was it that in this very avowal he had. asserted what the other felt, in his- inmost heart, to be an immeasurable superiority over him; and that, in the very moment of striking Ms flag, he had proclaimed Ms victory. To be able to run him so hard for the race and jei not feel the struggle — to strive for iie prke- and, care nothing for defeat, seemed to Jlfelligan the evidence of an ambition that soared above College triumph, and he could not but envy that baoyanfe high- hearted temperament that seemed to make light of diflSculties- aindinot even feel depressed by a defeat. TFp to this time -these two young men had scarcely known each other, but now they became intimate. The very difference in eharacter served -to draw them more closely together ; and if Ifelligaii felt a degree of admiration for qualities whose brilliant display opened anew sense of enjoyment to him, the other was delighted with, the geatle and almost ehUdlike innocence of "the Student whose far-soaring in- tellect was- mastering the highest questions of science. Massingfered was one of those natures in whom frankness is an in- stinct. It seems to such a relief to open the secrets of the hesart and. avow their weaknesses and their short-comings, as though — by some Moral PiDpesry — they would obtain the benefit of a free confession and go forth the better for their candour. Not only did he tell JfeUigan of his own career and its accidents, the causes for which he was not on good term,s with hia feniily,.and so on, but he even ventured to discuss lie public life of his father, and, in a spirit of banter, swore, that to Ms political subserviency did. he owe his whole fortune in life. " My father was one of the crew when the vessel was wrecked, Nelligan," said he ; " there was plenty of talk of standing by the ship to the last and perishing with her. Some did so, and they are for- gotten already. My father, however, jumped into the loog-boaft witii a few more, and thought that probably they might find another craft more seaworthy; fortunately he was right, at least assuredly I'm not the man to say he was not," "But was there no desertion of principle, Massingbred: ?" said NeUigan. " No more than there is a desertion of your old coat when you dis'- cover it to be too threadbare to wear any longer. Irish Politios — as THE MAETIirS 01' CEO' MAETDT. 59 tie mefn of that day uiMierstiaod- them. — had become impracticable, im- possible, I might say ; the only sensible thing to. do was to aekuaw^ ledge tiie fact. My fether was keen-sighted enough to see it in that light, and here's his health for it."' NeMigan was silent. " Come, Joe, out with it. Tour family were honest Unionists. Tell me so frankly, man. Own to me that you and yours loak upon us all as a set. of knaves and scoundrels, that sold their country, and so forth, I want to see you in a mood of good passionate indignation ftir once. Out with it, boy ; curse ua to your- heart's content, and I'll heap it like an angel, for the simple reason that I. know it to be just. Tou worft^ won't you.? Is your anger too deep for words ? or are there amy special and peculiar wrongs that make your dark consuming wraith too hot for utterance ?" NeUigan. was still silent ; but the blush which now covered his fece had become almost purple. The aUnsion to his &mily as persons of ptjlitical importance struck him, and for the first time, witka sense of shame. What would Massingbred think of them if he knew their real station ? what would he think of Mm, for having concealed it ? Had he concealed it ? had he ever divulged the truth ? He knew not| in the whirlwind of his confusion he knew nothing. He tried to say some words to break the oppressive silence that seemed to weigh him down like an accusation, but he could not. " I 'see it all, Nelligan. My foolish affectation of; laughing at all prineiple has disgusted you, but the truth is I don't feel it : I do Hot. I own frankly that the bought patriot is a ruiued man, and there is a moral Nemesis over eveiy fellow that sells himself; I don't mean to say but that many who did so didn't make the best bargain then- brains were worth, and my father; for one ; he was a man of fair average abilities — able to say his common-places like his- neighbours — and naturally felt that they would, soimd as well in England as ia Ireland ; I don't think he had a single conviction on any subject, so that he really sold a very unsaleable article when he vended himself. But there were others — your G-ovemor, for instance — come, now, tell md about him ; you are so devilish close, and I want to hear all about your femily. Xou won't; well, I'll give you one chance more, and then " " What then ?" asked NeUigan, breathlessly. " I'U just go and learn for myself." "How ? what do you mean ?" " The easiest way in the world. The vacation begins next Tues- day, and I'U just invite myself to spend the first week of it under 60 THE MAETINS OF OEO' MAETIIT. your paternal roof. Tou look terribly shocked, absolutely horrified"; well, BO you ought. It is about the greatest piece of impertmence I've heard of. I assure you I have a fuU consciousness of that ■myself; but no matter, I'll do it." NeUigan's shame was now an agony. It had never occurred to him in his life to feel ashamed of his station or that of his family, for the simple reason, that he had never made pretension to anything higher or more exalte^. The distinctions at which he aimed were those attainable by ability ; social successes were triumphs he never dreamed of; but now came the thought of how he should stand in his friend's esteem when the fact was revealed that he was the son of very humble parents, all whose ways, thoughts, and habits, would be apt themes for ridicule and sarcasm. Over and over again had Mas- singbred annoyed him by the disparaging tone in which he canvassed " small people," the sneering depreciation in which he held all their doings, and the wholesale injustice by which he classed their senti- ments with their good manners. It was the one feature of his friend's character that gave a check to his unbounded esteem for him. Had he not possessed this blemish, IfeUigan would have deemed him nearly faultless. Intensely feeling this, NeUigan would have given much for courage to say : " I am one of that very set you sneer at. All my associations and ties are with them. My home is amongst them, and every link of kindred biuds me to them." Yet, somehow, he could not bring himself to the effort. It was not that he dreaded the loss of friendship that might ensue ; indeed, he rather believed that such would not occur ; but he thought that a time might come when that avowal might be made with pride, and not in humiliation, when he should say : " My father, the little shopkeeper of Oughterard, gave me the advantages by which I became what I am. The class you sneer at had yet ambitions high and daring as your own ; and talents to attain them, too ! The age of noble and serf has passed away, and we live in a freer and more generous era, when men are tested by their own worth ; and if birth and blood would retain their respect amongst us, it is by contesting with us more humbly-born, the prizes of life." To have asserted these things now, however, when he was nothing, when his name had no echo beyond the walls of a College, would have seemed to him an intolerable piece of presumption, and he was silent. Massingbred read his reserve as proceeding from displeasure, and jestingly said : " Tou mustn't be angry with me, Joe. The boldness of men like THE MAETIli'S OF OEO' MAETIK. t)l me is less impudence than you take it for, since— should I fulfil my threat, and pay your father a visit— I'd neither show surprise nor shame if he refased to receive me. I throw over aU the claims of ceremony, but at the same time I don't want to impose the trammels on my friends. They are free to deal with me as frankly— ay, and as curtly, as I have treated them ; but enough of all this. Let us talk of something else." \ And so they did, too ; of their College life and its changeful fortunes — of their companions and their several characters, and of the future itself, of which Massingbred pretended to read the fate, saying : " You'll be sometldng wonderful one of these days, Joe. I have it as though revealed to me — you astonishing the world by your abilities, and winning your upward way to rank and eminence ; while J, like a sign-post that points to the direction, shall stand stock-still, and never budge an inch, knowing the road, but not travelling it." " And why should it be so. Mass, when you have such a perfect con- sciousness of your powers for success ?" " Por the simple reason, my boy, that I know and feel how the cleverness which imposes upon others has never imposed upon myself. The popular error of a man's being able to do fifty things which he has not done from idleness, apathy, carelessness, and so on, never yet deceived me, because I know well that when a fellow has great stuff ia him it will come out, whether he likes or not. Ton might as well say, that the grapes in a wiae-vat could arrest their own process of fermentation, as that a man of real genius — and mind, I am now speaking of no other — could suppress the working of his iatelUgence, and throw his faculties into torpor. The men who do nothing are exactly the men who can do no better. Volition, energy, the strong impidse for action, are part and parcel of every really great intellect ; and your ' mute inglorious Milton,' only reminds me of the Artist who painted his canvas aU red to represent the passage of the Egyptians through the Eed Sea. Believe me, you must take all untried genius in the same scale of credit as that by which you have fancied the chariots and horsemen submerged in the flood. They are there, if you like, and if you don't " " Tour theory requires that all men's advantages should be equal, their station alike, and their obstacles the same. Now, they are not so. See, for instance, in our University here. I am debarred from the fellowship-bench — or at least from attempting to reach it — ^be- cause I am a Papist." " Then turn Protestant ; or if that doesn't suit you, address your- self to kick down the barrier that stands in your way. By-the-by, I 62 THE MAETIWS GF OEO' MAETIN. didn't know you were a Eoman; how comes thatf Is it a family- creed, or was it a caprice of your own ?" " It is fte religion my family have always professed," said Nelligsm, gravely. " I have no right to speak of these subjects, because I have never felt strongly enough on them to establish strong convictions ; but it appears to me, that if I were you — ^that is, if I had your head on my shoulders, I should think twice ere I'd sacrifice my whole future out of respect for certain dogmas that no more interfere with one's daily hfe and opinions than some obsolete usage of ancient Greece has a bearing upon a modem suit in Chancery. There, don't look fretful and impatient ; I don't want to provoke you, nor is it worth your while to bring your siege artillery against my card-house. I appreciate everything you could possibly adduce by anticipation, and I yield myself as vanquished." Thus, half in earnest, half jestingly, Massingbred talked away, little thinking how deeply many a random speech entered into his friend's heart, taking firm root there to grow and vegetate hereafter. As for himself, it would have been somewhat difficult to say how far his eon- vibtions ever went with his words. Any attempt to guide and direct him was, at any time, enough to excite a wUful endeavour to oppose it, and whatever savoured of opposition immediately evoked his resist- ance. The spirit of rebeUion was the key-mote of his character ; he could be made anything, everything, or nothing; as authcmty, or, as he would have styled it, tyranny, decided. It was just at this very moment that an incident occurred to dis- play this habit of his mind in its fiill force. His father, by employii^ much private influence and the aid of powerful inends, had succeeded in obtaining for him the promise of a most lucrative civO. appointm^it in India. It was one of those situations which in a few years of very moderate labour, secure an ample fortune &r the possessor. Mr. Massingbred had forgotten but one thing in all the arrangement of this afiair, which was to apprise his son nf it beforehand, and make him, as it were, a part of the plot. That one omission, however, was enough to secure its failure. Jack received the first tidings of the scheme when it was a fact — not a speculation. It was a thing .done, not, to do, and consequently a " gross piece of domestic crmielty to dispose of him and his future by an arbitrary banishment to .a distant land, linking him with dis- tasteful duties, uncongenial associates," and the rest of it. In a word, it was a case for resistance, .and he did resist, .and in no very measured fashion either. He wrote back a .pettish .and ill-tempered THE MAJHiirs or ceo' maetin. 63 refusal of the place, sneered at the claes by whom such appointments wereiegarded as prizes, and coolly said, that " it was quite time enough to attach himself to the serious business of life when he had tasted something of the pleasures that suited hfc time of life; besides," added he, " I must see which way my ambitions point, pa-haps to a seat on the Treasury benches, perhaps to a buUock-team, a wood-axe, and a rifle in a new settlement. Of my resolves on either he.ad, or on anything between them, you shall have the earliest possible intiipa- tion from your devoted, but perhaps not very obedient, to command, "J. M." His father rejoined angrily and peremptorily. The place had cost him everything he could employ or enlist of friendly patronage ; he made the request assume all the weight of a deep personal obligation, and now the solicitation aud the success were all to go for nothing. What if he should leave so very gifted a young gentleman to the unfettered use of his great abiUties ? What if he abstained from any interf^ence with one so competent to guide himself? He threw out, these suggestions too palpably to occasion any misconception, and Jack read them aright. " I'm quite ready for sea whenever you are pleased to cut the painter," said he ; and the correspondence con- cluded with a dry intimation thai two hundred a year, less than one-half of his former allowance, should be paid into Coutts's for his benefit, but that no expenditure above that sum would be repaid by his father. " I'll emigrate — I'U agitate — I'U turn author, and write for the reviews — I'U correspond with the newspapers — I'U travel in Africa^- I'U go to sea — ^he a pirate" — in fact, there was nothing for which he thought his capacity imequal, nor anything against which his principles would revolt. In speculation only, however, for, in sober reaUty, he settled down into a mere idler — 'discontented, dreamy, and unhappy. Xittle momentary bursts of energy would drive him now and then to his books, and for a week or two he would work reaUy hard, when a change as audden would come over him, and he would relapse into his former apathy. Thus was it that he lived for some time after the term had come to an end, and scarcely a single student lingered within the silent courts, iferhaps the very solitude was the great charm of the place ; there was that in his lonely, unfriended, uncom- panionable existence that seemed to feed the brooding melancholy in which he indulged with aU the ardour of a vice. He liked to think himself an outcast and forgotten. It was a species of flattery that he addressed to his own heart when he affected to need neither sym- 64 THE MAETIlfS OT CEO' MAETllT. pathy nor affection. Still his was not the stuff of which misanthropy is fashioned, and he felt acutely the silence of his friend Nelligan, who had never once written to him since they parted. "I'd scarcely have left Tiim here," said he to himself one day; " had he been in my position, I'd hardly have quitted Tiim under such circumstances. He knew all about my quarrel with my father. He had read our letters on each side. To be sure he had condemned me, and taken 'the side against me, still, when there was a breach, and that breach offered no prospect of reconciliation, it was but scant friendship to say good-by, and desert me. He might, at least, have asked me down to his hous,©. I'd not have gone — that's certain. I feel myself very poor company for myself, and I'd not inflict my stupidity upon others. Still, Tie taight have thought it kind or generous. In fact, in such a case I would have taken no refusal — J'd have insisted." What a dangerous hypothesis it is when we assume to act for another ; how magnanimously do we rise above all meaner motives, .and only think of what is generous and noble; how completely we discard every possible contingency that could sway us from the road of duty, and neither look right nor left on our way to some high object. Jack Massingbred arguing thus, ended by thinking himself a very fine fellow, and his friend a very shabby one — two conclusions that, strangely enough, did not put him into half as much good- humour with the world as he expected. At all events, he felt very sore with NeUigan, and had he known where to address him, woidd have written a very angry epistle of m"bck gratitude for all his solici- tude in his behalf; very fortunately, however, he did not know in what part of I];eland the other resided, nor did his acquaintance with pro- vincial dialect enable him to connect his friend with a western county. He had so confidently expected to hear from him, that he had never asked a question as to his whereabouts. Thus was it with Massingbred, as he sauntered along the silent alleys of the College Park, in which, at rare intervals, some solitary sizer might be met with — spare, sad-looking figures — in whose features might be read the painful conflict of narrow fortune and high ambition. Book in hand generally, they rarely exchanged a look as he passed them, and Massingbred scanned at his ease these wasted and careworn sons of labour, wondering within himself was " theirs the right road to fortune?" Partly to shake off the depression that was over him by change of place, and in part to see something of the country itself, Massingbred resolved to make a walking tour through the south and west of Ireland, and with a knapsack on his back, he started one fine autumn morning for Wicklow. THE MA.BTINS OF CEO' MAETDT. 65 CHAPTEE VIII. 80MB KNOTTT POINTS THAT PDZZLED JOE KELLIGAN. This true history contains no record of the evening Mr. Scanlan passed at the Osprey's Nest ; nor is it probahle that in any diary kept by that intelligent individual there will yet be found materials to supply this historical void. "Whether, therefore, high events and their consequences were discussed, or that, the meeting was only devoted to themes of lighter importance, is likely to remain a secret to all time. That matters beneath the range of politics occupied the consideration of the parties was, however, evident from the following few lines of a note received by young NeUigan the next morning : " Deab Joe, — I dined yesterday at the ' Nest,' and we talked much of you. What would you think of paying a visit there this morning to see the -picture, or anything else you can think of ? I've a notion it would be well taken. At all events, come over and speak to me here. " Ever yours, " M. Scanlan." " I scarcely understand your note, Maurice," said young NeUigan, as he entered the little room where the other sat at breakfast. " Have you breakfasted ?" said Scanlan. " Tes, an hour ago.'' " Will you taste that salmon ? Well, then, just try PoU Hanigan's attempt at a grouse-pie ; let me teU you, there is genius in the very ambition; she got the receipt from the cook at Cro' Martin, and the imitation is highly creditable". You're vraong to decline it." And he helped himself amply as he spoke. " But this note ?" broke in the other, half impatiently. " Oh— ay — ^the note ; I'm sure I forgot what I wrote ; what was it about ? Tes, to be sure, I remember now. I want you to make yourself known, up there. It is dovmright folly, if not worse, to be keeping up these feuds and differences in Ireland any longer'; such a course might suit the small politicians of Oughterard, but you and I know better, and Martin himself knows better." 65 THE MAETIlf B OF DJBO' MAETIlf. " But I never took any part in tte conflict you speak of; I lived out of it — away from it." " And are, therefore, exactly suited to repair a breacli to which you never contributed. I assure you, my boy, the Gentry — and I know- them well — will meet ' you more than half-way. There is not a prouder fellow living than Martin there; he has throughout his whole life held his head higher than any man in our county, and yet he is quite ready to make advances towards you. Of course, what I say is strictly between ourselves ; but my opinion is, that, if you like it, you may be as intimate up there, as ever you were at old Hayes's, at the Priory." " Then, what would you have me do ?" -asked Welligan. " Just pay a visit there this morning ; say that you are curious to see that great picbure^^and it is a wonderful thing, if only for the size 'of it ; or that you'd like to have a look at Arran Island out of the big telescope at the top of the house; anything willflerve as a reason, and then— ^why, leave the rest to chance." " But really, Maurice, I see no sufficient cause for all this," said tTie youth, timidly. " Look now, Joe," said the other, drawing his chair closer to him, and talking in the low and measured tone of a confidence, — " look now, you're not going to pass your life, as . the successor to that excellent man, Dan Nelligan, of Oughterard, seUing hides, and ropes, and tenpenny-hails, and making an estate the way old ladies make a patchwoi^k quHt.' You'll be able to start in life with plenty of tin and plenty of talent ; you'll have every advantage that money and education can give, and only one drawback on your road to success — the mere want of blood — that dash of birth which forms the only real freemasonry in this world. Now miad me, Joe ; the next best thing to having this oneself, is to live and associate -with those who have, for in time, what with catching up their prejudices and learning their ways, you come to feel very much as they do ; and, what's better still, they begin to regard you as one of themselves." " But if I do not ambition this — if I even Teject it ?" said the other, impatiently. "Then all I say is that Trinity College may make wonderftil seholars, but turns out mighty weak men of the world !" " Perhaps so !" said Ifelligan, drily, and witii a half-nettled air, " I suppose you fancy there would be something like slavery in such a position?" said Seanlan, "with a derisive look. : " I know it !" responded the other, firmly. " Then what do you ■say to the alternative— and theie is but one only THE MAEXDfB 0F OBO MAETIIT. o7 open to yoB-^what do you think of spending your life as a foUawea: of Daniel O'Connell; of being reminded every day ;aiid every hour that you have not a privilege nor a place that he didn't win for you ; that he opened Parliament to you, and made you free of every guild ; where men of ability rise to honour? Ay, Joe ! and what's a thousand times worse — knowing it all to be true, my boy ! Take service with Mm once, and if you leave Him you're a renegade; remember that, and bethink you, that there's no saying what crotchet he may have in store for future agitation." "But I never :purposed any such part for myself," broke- in ITelligan. " Never mind, it will fall to your lot for all that if you don't quickly decide against it. "What's Simmy Crow staring at ? Look at -him down there, he's counting every window in the street like a tax- gatherer." And he pointed to the Artist, who, shading his eyeg with one hand, stood peering at every house along the little Street. " What's the matter, Simmy ?" cried he, opening the casement. " It's a house I'm looking for, down here, and I forget which it is; bother them, they're all so like at this time of the year when they're empty." " Are you in search of a lodging, Simmy ?" " No, it isn't that !" said the other, curtly, and still intent on his pursiiit. " Bad luck to the architect that wouldn't vary what they call the ' fagade,' and give one some chance of finding the place again." " Who is it you want, man ?" "Pair, and I don't even know that same!" replied the Artist; " but" — and he lowered his voice to a whisper as he spoke — " he's an elegant study — as fine a head and face and as beautiful a beard as ever you saw. I met him at Kyle's Wood a week ago, begging; and what with his fine forehead and deep-set blue eyes, his long white hair, and his great shaggy eyebrows, I said to myself; 'Beli- sarina,' says I, ' by all that's grand — a Moses, a Marino Paliero, or a Monk in a back-parlour discoursing to an old skull and a vellum fqlio — any one of these,' says I, ' not to speak of Misers, Money- lenders, or Magicians, as well ;' and so I coaxed him down, here on Saturday last, and put him somevchere to sleep, with a good supper and a pint of spirits, and may I never, if I know wlieie I. left him." " Three days lago ?" " Just BO ; and worse than all, I shut up the place ;quite .dark, and only made a hole in the roof, just to let a fine Eembraadt light^feU 68 THE MAETINS OF CBO' MAETIIT. down on his head. Oh, then, ifs no laughing matter, Maurice I Sure if anything happened to him " " Tour life wouldn't be worth sixpence before any Jury in the county." " Begad! it's what I was thinking; if they wouldn't take it as a practical joke." " You're looking for ould Brennan !" cried a weather-beaten hag; " but he's gone to Oughterard for a summons. You'll pay dear for your tricks this time, anyhow." " Come up here, Simmy, and never mind her," said Scanlan ; then, turning to Nelligan, he added, " There's not such a character in the county !" " I want my friend, Mr. NeUigan, here — ^Mr. NeUigan — Mr. Crow — I want him, I say, to come up and hare a look at the great ' Histori- cal' — eh, Simmy !— -wouldn't it astonish him ?" " Are you a votary of Art, Sir," asked Crow, modestly. "I've never seen what could be called a picture, except those portraits in the College Examination HaU might be deemed such." " Indeed, and they're not worthy the name. Sir. Hood, mayhap, is like, but he's hard and stiff, and out of drawing ; and Lord Clare is worse. It's in the Low Countries you'd see portraits, real portraits ! men that look down on you out of the canvas, as if you were the intruder, there, and that ihey were waiting to know what brought you. A stittdy old Burgomaster, for instance, with a red-brown beard and a fierce pair of eyes, standing up firm as a rock on a pair of legs that made many a drawbridge tremble as he walked home to dinner on the Grand Canal, at Rotterdam, after finishing some mighty bargain for half a spice island, or paying a million of guilders down as a dowry for that fiaxen-haired, buxom damsel in the next frame. Look at the dimples in her neck, and mark the folds in her satin. Isn't she comely, and calm, and haughty, and housewifery, all together ? Mind her foot, it isn't small, but see the sh^e of it, and the way it presses the ground — ay, just so — my service to you ; but you are one there's no joking with, even if one was alone with you." And he dofied his hat, and bowed obsequiously as he spoke. " You're an enthusiast for your art ?" said Nelligan, interested by the unmistakable sincerity of his zeal. " I am, Sir," was the brief reply. " And the Painter's is certainly a glorious career." " If for nothing else," burst in Crow, eagerly, " that it can make of one like me^-poor, ignorant, and feeble, as I am — ^a feUow-soldier in THE MAETIUS OE OEo' MAETIN. 69 the same army mtli Yan Dyke, and Titian, and Velasquez— to know that in something that they thought, oi; hoped, or dared, or tried to do, I too have my share ! You think me presumptuous to say this ; you are sneering at such a creature as Simmy Crow for the impudence of such p, boast, hut it's in humility I say it, ay, in downright abject humility; for I'd rather have swept out Eembrandt's room, and settled his rough boards on Cuyp's easel, than I'd be a — a — ^battle- axe guard, or a lord-in-waiting, or anything else you like, that's great and grand at Court." " I envy you a pursuit whose reward is in the practice rather than in the promise," said NeDigan, thoughtfully. "Men, like myself, labour that they may reach some far-away land of rewards and suc- cesses, and bear the present that they may enjoy the future." "Ay, but it wiU repay you well, by all accounts," said Crow. " Miss Mary told us last night how you had beat every one out of the field, and hadn't left a single prize behind you." " "Who said this ?" cried Joe, eagerly. " Miss Mary — Miss Martin. She said it was a credit to us all of the West, here, that there was one, at least, from Galway, who could do something besides horse-racing and cock-fighting " " So she did," said Scanlan, interrupting, with some confusion. " She said somebody had told her of young NeUigan. She called you 'ToungNelligan.'" " No, no ; it was to myself she said it, and the words were, ' Mr, Joseph Nelligan ;' and then, when her Uncle said, ' Why don't we know him ? ' " " My dear Simmy, you make a most horrible confusion when you attempt a story — out of canvas. Mind, I said out of canvas ;■ for I confess that in your grand ' Historical,' the whole incident is admi- rably detailed. I've just said to my friend here, that he has a great pleasure before him, in seeing that picture." " If you'll do me the honour to look at it," said Crow, bowing courteously, " when you come to dinner to-day." " Attend to me, Joe," said Scanlan, passing an arm within NeUi- gan's, and leading him away to another part of the room ; " that fellow is little better than an idiot. But I was just going to teU you what Martin said. ' Tou are intimate with young Nelligan,' said he ; * you know Mm well, and you could possibly do; without awkward- ness, what with more formality might be difficult. Don't yoii think then, that he would possibly waive ceremony ' " " I must be ofi;" broke in Crow, hastily. " I have a sitting at 70 tSe mabtiu's of ceo' MAKrrsr. tWe^Te o'clock, so I lope we shall see you at seven, Mr; Nelligan — ytJUP' note said' seven, sharp;" And without waiting for more, he seized hi» hat and hurried dowi the stairs^ "A dWiiriglht fool!" said Scanlan, angrily. "Mr. Martin said he'd' write to you, if — if — if in fact you stood upon that punctilio j but that he'd be' all the better pleaBedif you'd just accept' acquaint- ance as freely as he' offered it, and come and dine there to-day, like a friend." . " Isn't there, or has there not, been some difference between him aiid' my father?" askedlJoe. ■ " A trifle — and a riiistake ; the kind of tLiag that two men of calm b^ds, and' common sense, could have settled in five minutes, and which, to say the truth, Martin was right iu throughout. It's all passed and over now, however, and it would be worse than foolish to revive- it. There's Miss Martin !" cried he, "and I have a word to say to her ;" and hurried off, without waiting for more. As he passed! from the room, however, a letter fell from his pocket, and as Ifelligdn •stooped to take it up he saw that it was addressed to himself. He looked hesitatingly at it for a moment or two, scarcely knowing whether or not he ought to break the seal. " It was meant foi» me; at all events," said he, and opened' it. The contents were as follows : " Mr. Martin presents his. respects to Mr. Joseph NelUgan, and -will feel happy if — excusing the want of formal introduction — Mr., JTeUigan will admit him to the honour of acquaintaiice, and give him the pleasure of his society at dinner, to morrow, at seven o'dbck. Mr. Martin does not hesitate to say, that to accept this uncere- monious proposal,, wiU. be felt as a very great favour indeed! by him and his family." " "What does Scanlan mean by aU this E Why- not have handed me this note at once P' was NeUigan's question, to- himself, as he descended the stairs and gained the street. He was not sorry that. Scsnl'an was mot in sight^. aiad hastened homeward to think over this stBaiagB eommunication. Joe well knew that his mother was not pfficuliaarly endowed with worldly wisdom or acutenesa,. and yet such was his need of counael at the moment, that he deterimnedi, at least in paartj to lay the case befere her. " She can certaanly teU me," said he,^ " if there be any reason why I should decline tiiis propoadi" And with this resolve he entered the cottage. " Don't you, remeniber. Catty Hemderaon, JaB?"',said' his mDHber, as he came into the room, and presenting a young girl, very plainly THE MABTIKS- OP CBO" MAKTINi 7^ lit neaSly dressed, wbo arose to receive him with an am of weitbred composure—" Catty, that used to be your playfelow, long ago ?"* • " I didn't know you were in Ireland, Miss Henderson. I skoiild never have recognised you," said Nelligan, in some confasion. "Nor' was J till a few days baek,f' said she, in an accent vel-y slightly tinged with a foreign pronunciation. "I came home on: Tuesday." ' " Isn't she grown, Joe ? and such a fine girl, too. I always said she'd be so f and when the others would have it that your- nose was too long for the rest of your features, I said, ' "Wait till she grows up — wait tiM she's a woman ;' and see now if I'm not ri^t.'* It must be owned that Joe NeUigan's confusion during the delivery of this prophetic criticism was far greater than Catty's own, who received the speech with a low, gentle laugh, while Mrs. NeUigan went on : "I made her stay till you came back, Joe, for I wanted her to see what a taU creature you are; and not more than twenty, her own age to a month ; and I told her what a genius you turned out, indeed to the' surprise of us all, and myself espeeially." " Thank you, mother," said he, smUingi " No, indeed, my dear, 'tis your father you may thank for all your talents and abilities ; a wonderful man he is, beginning the world without a sixpence, and there he is now, with I'm sure I don't know how many hundreds a year in land^ — ay, Gatty, in broad acres ; just like any Squire in the counjy. "Well, weU, there's many a change come over the country since you were here — how many years is it now ?" " Upwards pf twelve," said the young girl. "Dear me, how time flies. It seems like yesterday that you and Joe had the measles together, in the Httle yellow room up at Broom Lodge, and your poor mother was alive then, and would insist on giving you everything cool to drink, just because you liked it, though I told her that was exactly the reason it was sure to be bad for yom, for there's nothing so true in life — ^that everything we wish for is wrong." "Ajx unpleasant theory, certainly," said Catty, laughing, "but I hope not of universal appfeation, for I hav^been long wishing to see you again." " "WeU, wen, who knows whether it may be good or bad," said shej sighing ; " not but I'm pleased to see you growing up the image of your- poor dear mother^talierj maybe, but not so handsome, nor so geateeWooMng:; but when you have your trials and troubles, as she 72 THE MAETINS OE CHO' MABTIN. liad, maybe that \rill come too, for I often remarked, there's no- thing like affliction to make one genteel." " Why, mother, you are profuse in unhappy apothegms this morn- ing," said Joe. " And are you coming to stay amongst us now. Catty, or are you going back to Trance again?" said Mrs. Kelligan, not heeding the remark, " I scarcely know ias yet," replied the young girl. " My father's letter to summon me home, ^aid something about placing me as a governess, if I were capable of the charge." " Of course you are, my dear, after all your advantages ; not but that I'd rather see you anything else — a nice light business, for instance, in baby-linen or stationery, or in Miss Busk's establish- ment, if that could be accomplished." A very slight flush — so slight as to be nearly imperceptible — crossed the young girl's cheek, but not a syllable escaped her, as Mrs. ITelligan resumed, " And there was an excellent opening the other day at the Post here, in the circulating library way, and lending out a newspaper or two. fl don't know how much, you might make of it. Not but maybe you'd rather be companion to a lady, or what they call a ' nervous invalid.' " " That, too, has been thought of," said the girl, smiling, " but I have little choice in the matter, and happily as little preference for one as the other of these occupations. And now I must take my leave, for I promised to be back by two o'clock." " "Well, there's Joe vriU see you home with pleasure, and I'm sure you have plenty to say to each other about long ago. Not but I hope you'U agree better than you did then. Tou were the torment of my life, the way you used to fight." " I couldn't think of trespassing on Mr. Joseph's time ; I should be quite ashamed of imposing such trouble on him. So good-by, G-odmamma — good-by, Mr. Joseph," said she, hurriedly throwing her shawl around her. "If you will allow me to accompany you," said Joseph, scarcely knowing whether she rejected or accepted his escort. " To be sure she will, and you have both more sense than to fall out now ; and mind, Joseph, you're to be here at four, for I asked Mrs. Cronan to dinner.". " Oh, that reminds me of something," said Joe, hurriedly ; and he leaned over his mother's chair, and whispered to her, " Mr. Martin THE MABTINS Or OBO' MAETIN. 7S has invited me to dine with him to-day ; here is his note, which came to me in rather a strange fashion." " To dine at the Nest ! May I never ! But I scarcely can believe my eyes," said Mrs. Nelligan, in ecstasy. " And the honour, and the pleasure, too; well, well, you're the lucky boy." " What shall I do, mother ; isn't there something between my father and him ?" " What will you do, but go ; what else would you do ? I'd like to know. What will they say at the Post when they hear it ?" ' " But I want you to hear how this occurred." " Well, well ; I don't care — go you must, Joe. But there's poor Catty walldng away, aU alone ; just overtake her, and say that a sudden invitation from the Martins — mention it as if you were up there every day " But young Nelligan did not wait for the conclusion of this artful counsel, but hiurying after Catty Henderson, overtook her as she had gained the beach. " I have no need of an escort, Mr. Joseph," said she, good- humouredly. " I know every turn of the way here." " But you'll not refuse my companionship ?" said he. " We have scarcely spoken to each other yet." And, as he spoke, he drew hia arm within her own, and they walked along in silence. " My mother thinks we did nothing but quarrel long ago," said he, after a pause ; " but if my memory serves me truly, it was upon this very pathway we once swore to each other vows of a very different kind. Do you recoUect anything of that, Miss Henderson ?" " I do, Mr. Joseph," said she, with a sly half-glance as she uttered the last word. " Then why ' Mr. Joseph ?' " said he, half reproachfully. " Why ' Miss Henderson ?' " said she, with a malicious smile at th© other's confusion, for somehow Joseph's manner was far less easy than her own. " I scarcely know why," replied he, after a short silende, " except that you seem so changed — and I myself, too, am probably in your eyes as much altered— from what we both were, that — that " " That, in short, it would be impossible to link the past with the present," said she, quickly ; " and you were quite right. I'm con- vinced the effort is always a failure, and prejudices in a hundred ways the good qualities of those who attempt it. Let us, therefore, begin, our acquaintance here — ^leam to know each other as we are — that is if we are to know each other at all." " Why do you say that ?" asked he, eagerly. ^^ THE MiETIHS OF CEO' MABTIH',' " For many reasons. We may not meet often ; perlaps not- at all ; perhaps under circumstances wliere to renew intiinacy might be diffi~ cult. AsBuredly, although the path h6re might once hme sufficed us, our roads' in life lie widely apart, now, and the less we travel together the more we shaU each go towards his own goal, and — and tte less- regret we shall feel at parting; and so now, good-by !" " You wish it ?" said he, reproachfully. " Tou desire this?" ' "What matters it whether I wish it or not. I know it must be. Good-by." " Grood-by, then — good-by," said he; affecting as much indiffer- ence as he could ; and then, slightly raising his hat, he turned awfty on the road homeward. Joseph NeUigan's reflections were not of the pleasaintest as he sauntered slowly back. He was not exactly satisfied with- himself — . he felt, he could not just say how, that the young girl had had the mastery over him — she was more calm, or self-possessed — she had more tact, or she knew more of life — had more of self-control, or breeding, or some other quality, whatever- it might be, than he had. At all events, he was iU at ease and discontented. Then he doubted whether he ought to have taken her at her word when she talked of paBting: It might, possibly, have been meant by her to evoke some show of resistance on his part — that same inequality of station she: seemed to hint at might, perhaps, demand from him a greater defer- ence. In feet, whichever way he turned the matter over, he saw little cause for self-gratulation, nor did he discover that it mended matters when he tried to accuse her of R-ench frivolity, and such other traits as he fancied of foreign- origin. In this not over-pleasant mood was it that he re-entered the cot- tage, where his mother was busy in preparing a very formidable cravat foj* the approaching dinner-pajrty. . "Ah, Joe!" said she, anxiously, "if you were to dress now, and then stay quiet, you'd be quite fresh when the time came ; for re- member, it's not like your father you are, that has the ways of the ■world about him,, and can converse about everything that comes upper- most ;• but with aU your learning, you know, you always feel some- how " "Stupid, mother?" "Not stupid, my dear, but depressed — out of spirits in society j so that my advice to you is, now, dress yourself in good time, take a amall glass of ginger-cordial, and throw your eye over the second' chapter of ' Social Hints,' with an account of conversation before and- THE MABTHra, ,0» CBO' WiXJUS. iS- at dinner, and some excellent advice about ' compliments, meet for every season of the year.' " "Do you think sudi prepa»ationB quite necessary, m:other?" aakei Joe, dily ; for he rather relished the simplicity of her eounsels. " To be sure I do ; for yours is, no common difficulty, Joe. If you talk of country matters, you'll get into Kyle's "Wood aud the Chan- cery suit ; if you touch politics, or religion, it wiU be worse again. The Martins, I hear, never play cards, so you can't allude to them ; and they'll be too grand to know anything about poor' Miss Cuddy going off with the Sergeant of Police, or what Con Kelly did with Ills aunt's furniture." " So that really the topics open to me are marveflously few." " "Well, there's shooting ; but to be sure you know nothing about that, nor fishing either ; and I suppose farming, if you did understand it, wouldn't be genteel. Indeed/ 1 see little that isn't dangerous, except the dearneas of everything. I remark that's a subject nobody ever tires of, and all can take their share in." " And I conclude- it to be feat, mother ?" " A very melancholy fe/cfc, my dear ; and so I said to Betty Grargan, yesterday. ' It's weU. for you,' said I, -and the Kkes of you, that use nothing but potatoes ; but think of us, that have to pay sixpence a pound for mutton, six-and-a-half for the prime pieces, and. veal not to be had under ei^tpence.' They talk of the poor, indeed ! but sure they never suffer fiiom a rise in butcher's meat, and care nothing at aU what tea costs. I assure j'ou I made the tears come into her eyes, with the way I described our hardshipsi." " So that this wiU. be a safe subject for me, mother ?" , " Perfedily safe, my dear, and no ways mean,, either ; for I always remarked that the higher people are, the stingier they arei and fte more pleasure Hiey take in any little shairp trick that saves them six- pence. And when that's exhausted, just bring in the Barnes." "The Rams!" . " I mean my aunt Bam, and my relistions in "Wexford. I'm. sure, with a little address, you'll be able to show how I came to be mar- ried beneath me, and all the misery it cost me." ""Well, mother;.! believe 1 have now ample material," said Joe, riatng, with sUvely dread of an opening which, ha knew well boded a lengthy exposition, " and to my own want of skill must it be ascribed if I do not employ it profitably." And with this he hurried to his room to prepare for the great event. The " Gentlemen of England" do not deem it a very formidable 76 THE MAETINS OF OEO' MAETIK. circumstance to repair towards seven, or half-past, to a dinner-party, even of the dullest and most rigid kind. There is a sombre "routine" in these cases, so recognised that each goes tolerably weU prepared for the species of entertainment before him. There is nothing very- exhilarating in the prospect, and as little to depress. It is a leaf torn out of one of the tamest chapters in Life's Diary, where it is just as rare to record a new dish as a new idea, and where the company and the cookery are both foreknown. No one goes with any exaggerated expectations of enjoyment; but as little does he anticipate anything to discompose or displease him. The whole thing is very quiet and well-bred, rather duU, but not unpleasant. Now, Joseph Nelligan had not graduated as a " Diner out ;" he was about as ignorant of these solemn festivals as any man well could be. He was not, therefore, without a certain spnse of anxiety as to the ' conversational requisites for such occa- sions. Would the company rise to themes, and plades, and people of which he had never as much as heard ? or would they treat of ordinary events, and if so, on what terms ? If politics came to be discussed, would Mr. Martin expect him to hear in silence opinions from which he dissented ? Dare he speak his sentiments, at ihe cost of directing attention to himself? — a course he would fain have avoided. These, and innumerable other doubts, occupied him as he was dressing, and made him more than once regret that he had determined to accept this invitation ; and when the hour at last came for him to set out, he felt a sense of shrinking terror of what was before him greater than he had ever known, as he mounted the dreaded steps of the College Examination Hall. He might, it is true, have bethought him of the fact, that where Simmy Crow and Maurice Scanlan were guests, he too might pass muster without reproach ; but he did not remember this, or at least it failed to impress him sufficiently. Nor was his dread without a certain dash of vanity, as he thought of the contrast between the humble place he was perhaps about to occupy at a great man's table, and the proud one he had achieved in the ranks of scholarship and science. Thus musing, he sauntered slowly along tiU he found him- self in front of the little garden of the Osprey's Nest. He looked at his watch — it was exactly seven ; so he pulled the bell, and entered. THE maethts of ceo' mabtis. 77 CHAPTEE IX. THE MARTIN ABHS. In the small and not over-neat parlour of the Martin Arms at Oughterard, a young man sat at his breakfast, at times, casting his eyes over the columns of the Vindicafor, sai anon, strolling to the window to watch the- gathering of the country people.at the weekly masket. The scene was one of that mingled bustle and languor so characteristicaUy'Irish. Cart-loads of turf, vegetables, fruit, or turkeys blocked- up" the narrow passage between booths of fancy wares, gilt jewellery, crockery;- Mid cutlery ; the vendors all eagerly vociferating commendations of -their stores, in chorus with still more clamorous beggars, or the discordant notes of vagrant minstrelsy. Some animal nionstrosity, anriounced'by a cracked-voiced herald and two clarionets, added to a din, to whicli loud laughter contributed its share of uproar. ■ " The assembkge was entirely formed of the country people, many of whom- made thepretextpf having a pig or a lamb to sell the reason of their coming, but, in reality, led thither by the native love of a gathering— that fondness to-be where their neighbours were— without any definite aim or object. There was, then, in strong contrast to'^ the anxious solicitation of all who had aught to sell, the dreary, languid,' almost ' apathetic look of the mere lounger, come to while away his weary hotir and kiU- time just like any verv bored fine gentleman who airs his listlessness along St. James's- street, or lazily canters his ennui dbwn"Ebtten-row. Jack Massingbrefl,;for he was the traveller, whose straw hat and knapsack [stood upon a -[table near, was amused at a scene so fuU of its native characteristics. The physiognomy, the dress, the bearing of the people, their greetings as they met, their conduct of a bargain, aU bespoke a nation Svidely differing from the sister country, and set him a dreaming as to. how it was that equality of laws might very possibly establish anything but equality of condition amongst people so dissimilar. While thus musing, his eye chanced to rest upon the half-effaced inscription over a shop door, in front, and where the name of Daniel Nelligan figured as "licensed for ii& kinds of groceries and spirits." " Nelligan," repeated he to himself; « I shaU certamly quiz my friend 78 THE MMJTIHS or lOEO' MiBTIN, Joe, wlieii we meet, about Hs namesake in Oughterard. How good it would be to pick up some details of our friend opposite to torment him with. What rare fun to affect to have discovered a near relative in this man of hides, glue, sugar, and Jamaica rum ! Eh, gad, I'U try- it." And with this resolve he crossed the street at once, and soon found himself in the compact crowd which thronged the doorway of this popular shop. It was, indeed, a busy- scene, since many who were there came as much sellers as buyers, ;giving all the com^exity of barter to then- several transactions. Here, was a staid countrywoman exchanging her spunyam, or her "cloth," as it is catted, for various commodi- ties in tea, candles, and such Kke; here, a farmer, with a sample of seed oats in his jpocket-handkerchieJ^ of which he wanted the value in certain farm utebsils ; here, was another, with a stout toU of home- made frifize to dispose of;' some were even fain to ofer a goose or a hen as the medium for a little tobacco, or some equally tempting luxury of cottier life. But there was another class of customers, who, , brushing their way through the throng, made for a small, dingy-look-, ing chamber behind the shop, inwhidh Mr. Nelligan performed the functions of banker, and money-lender, discounting small biUs, ad- vancing loans, and .transacting all the various duties of a petty capitalist ; means by which, it was alleged, he had already amassed a very ample fortune. Ajn announcement in vsriting on the glass-door of this sanctum in- formed Massingbredthat "Bank-notes" were exchanged, and "small Joans advanced 'on good security," suggesting to him at once the means of opening an acquaintance with the interior. Without any Tfiry definite purpose, however, he now found iimself one of a very closely-packed crowd within the chamber. At a small desk, around which ran a railing of about a foot in height, serving, as it were, t© "filter the stream" of solicitation that poured in upon him, sat a dark- eyed, biUoua-looking man of about fifty ; a black wig cut in two deep arches over the temples showed a strongly-formed, massive head, very favourably in contrast to the features beneath it, \diieh were only indicative of intense shuewdnesa and cunning. The eyes, in particular, were restless and furtive-looking, distrust and suspicion giving their entire expression — qualitiea it was to be owned in very active em- ployment in the intercourse of his daily life. The anxious looks around ijim — careworn, eager, tremulous with jincertainty as they were, seemed the very opposite to his own, fuU of the security that a strong purse bestows, and stem in the conscious etrength of his afiSxienoe. THE MAHtlNS OP CEO' MAETIK. 179 "It won't do, HagaiE," said he, with a balf-smile, as hp pushed back through the grating a very dirty discoloured piece of paper. :» You'U be off to America before it comes due. I wouldn't take thp Lord-Lieutenant's note at six months, as times go." " See now, Mr. IfeUigan," replied the other, pressing his fece close to the cage, and talking with intense eagerness. "May I never see Christmas, but I'll pay it. 'Twas marryia' the daughter leift me low in cash; but with the blessin' of God and your help " " I hope you're more certain of the blessing than the help. What's this with a string round it ?" continued Nelligan, addressing another applicant. " 'Tis a roll of notes I wanted to ax your Honour about. MoUy never ' let on' she had them tiU I^day last ; and now that James is going away and wants a trifle to fit him out—: — " " Why, they're French's Bank, man, that broke yeaa?s ago ; theyvre -not worth a farcthing !"_ " Arrah, don't say so, and God reward you," cried 'the poor fellow, while his eyes filled up and his lip trembled convulsively,; " don't take the hope out of my heart all at onst. Look at them again, your Honour, and maybe you'll think different !" " If I. did I'd be as great a fool as yourself. Patsy. The bank is closed, and the banker dead this many a day, and I wouldn't give you sixpence for sixty thousand of them. Take him put in the fresh air — - give him a-momthful of water," added he, hastily, as the wretched countryman staggered back, sick, and almost fainting vrith the sad tidings. "Mrs. Mboney," said he, addressing a pale, mild-featured woman in a widow's cap and black gown, "you can't expect to hear from Dublin for a week or ten days to come. It takes some time to ad- minister; but if you are in want of a few pounds " "No, Sir, thank you," said she, in a low voice; "but as I can't go back to the place agaia — as I'U never be latile to live there, now -" " Don't be in a hurry, Mrs. Mooney ; do nothing rash. ISTone of us know what we can do tiU we're tried. There's Miles Dogherty never thought he'd be paying me that eight pound fifteen he owes me, and see uqw if he isn't come with it, to-day." "Faix, and I am not," sturdily responded a very powerfully built man in the comfortable dress of a substantial fariher. " I don't owe it, and I'U never pay it ; and what's more, if you get a decree against me to-morrow, I'd sell every etiiok and etone jn the place aBiid go to ' Quaybec' " 80 THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETUT. " Indeed you wouldn't, Miles, not a bit more than I'd go and take the law of^n old friend and neighbour." " Paix, I never thought you would," said the stout man, wiping his forehead, and appearing as if he had forgotten his wrath. " And now, Miles, what about that water-course ?" said IfeUigan, good-humouredly ; " are you content to leave it to any two fair men " As he got thus far, his eye for the first time fell upon Massingbred, who, with folded arms, was leaning against a wall, an attentive spec- tator of the whole scene. " That is a stranger yonder ; what can he want here ?" said NeUi- gan, who watched the attentive look of Massingbred's face with con- siderable distrust. He whispered a few words into the ear of a man beside him, who, making his way through the crowd, addressed the young man with, " It's the master. Sir, wants to know if he coidd do anything for your Honour ?" " Por me ? oh, you spoke to me ?" said Massingbred, suddenly re- called to himself. " Tes, to be sure ; I wanted to know — that is, I was thinking-' " And he stopped to try and remember by what device he had purposed making Mi. ?feUigan's acquaintance. While he thus stood doubting and confused, his eyes suddenly met the black, searching, deep-set orbs that peered at him behind the grating, and without knowing how or why, he slowly approached him. " In what way can I be of any use to you. Sir ?" said NeUigan, in a tone which very palpably demanded the reason of his presence there. Jack Massingbred was eminently " cool ;" that is, he was possessed of that peculiar assurance which rarely suffers itself to be ruffled by a (difficulty. In the intercourse of society, and with men of the world, he could, have submitted to any test unabashed, and yet now, in presence of this shrewd-looking and very common-place personage, he somehow, felt marveUously iU at ease, and &om the simple reason that the man before whom he stood was not of his " world," but one of a set of whose habits and thoughts and ways he was in utter ignorance. NeUigan's question was a second time addressed to him, and in the same words, before he thought of framing a reply to it. For a second or two it occurred to him to say that he had strolled in, half inadver- tently, and apologising for the intrusion, -to withdraw ; but his pride was offended at the notion of defeat this conduct implied, and with an THE MAETINS OF OEO' MAETIN. 81 assumption of that conventional impudence far more natural to him, he said : " It was your name, Sir, attracted me ; the name ' Nelligan,' which 1 read over your door, being that of a very dear and valued friend of mine, suggested to me to inquire whether you might not be rela- tives." The cool indifference which accompanied these words, uttered as they were ia a certain languid drawl, were very, far from predisposing Nelligan in favour of the speaker ; while the pretence of attaching any singularity to a name so common as his own struck him at once as indicative of covert impertinence. " NeUigan is not a very remarkable name down here. Sir," drily responded he. "Very possibly," replied Jack, with all his accustomed ease. "I Imow little or nothing of Ireland. Tour namesake, or your relative, perhaps, was a College friend of mine, but to what part of the coun- try he belonged I_ never knew." The words, a " College friend," roused the other's anxiety, and lean- ing forward eagerly, and dropping his voice to a whisper, he said, " "Where ? In what College may I ask, Stt ?' ' "In Trinity, Dublin." "The Medallist of this year, you mean?" said the other, almost breathless in his anxiety. " Just so. The same fellow who has been sweeping away all the honoxirs of his day. Tou have heard of him, it wotild seem ?" " He is my son, Sir. I'm Joe NeLigan's father !" Massingbred's astonishment did not betray itself by any change of feature ; not a word escaped him ; but his eye ranged over the scene around him, and came back to rest upon old NeUigan's face with an expression of the calmest meaning. ".What a fortunate accident — for me, I mean," continued he. " Joe and I are very dear friends, and it is a great happiness for me to. make his father's acquaintance. Is he with you now ?" " No, Sir ; he's at the sea — a place called Kilkieran, about twenty miles away ; but we'll have him back by to-morrow if you^'U stay with us, and I'm sure you'll not refuse me that pleasure. The young gen- tleman who is my son's friend, is mine also, if he'U permit me to call him so ; and now just tell me what name shall I say ? — who is it that I'm to teU Joe has arrived here ?" " Say that Jack Massingbred is come, and I'll lay my life on't you'll see him here as fast as may be." " And now, Mr. Massingbred,just take up your quarters with us. G 82 THE MAETINS OF OEO' MAETUf. Where are you stopping ? I'll send over the hoy for your trunks, for I needn't say that this must be your home while you stay at Oughterard." The genial tone of warm hospitality in which he now spoke made him seem a very different man from the hard-featured old money-lender he had appeared when Jack first beheld him, and Massingbred returned his cordial shake hands with a pressure equal to his own, while he said, " Be assured that J accept your offer most heartily. My whole baggage is a knapsack and a fishing-rod, so that if you admit me as youa? guest you must dispense with all beyond the very humblest requirements. I have no coat, except this on me ; and, when I brush my hair, I have dressed for dinner." "Tou are amongst very humble people,- Mr. Massingbred — a country shopkeeper, and his wife, and son — and they'll be only too happy to feel that you don't despise their company. Come, and I'll show you your room." And so saying, Ifelligan. led him up a narrow stair, and at the end of a corridor opened a door into a, neatly-fur- nished chamber, which looked out into a spacious garden. The whde interior was scrupulously clean and comfortable ; and as Jack sur- veyed his new dominions, he inwairdly blessed his good fortune that had piloted him into such a haven. " I'U just step down and write to Joe. Meanwhile, you'll have your things brought over to you. Make yourself at home here — at least, as much as you can in such a place — and when you want any- thing, just ask for it." And with these words old NeUigan left him to his own thoughts. Whatever savoured of an adventure was the delight of Jack Massingbbed. He was one of those men whose egotism take the shape of playing hero to themselves — a tolerably large category amongst the spoiled children of this world. To be thrown into any strange or novel position^ with associates he was unused to, and amidst circumstances totally unlike all he had ever met befor^ was his greatest happiness ; and although, here, there was nothing hke actual peiil to heighten the zest of the enjoyment, there was a certain dash of embarrassment in the situation that increased its piquancy. This embarrassment lay im his approaching meeting with young NeUigan. All the reserve his young College friend had main'tiained with regard to his family was at once explained ; and Jack began to think over how often it must have occurred to him to say the most galling and offensive things in his ignorance of NeUigan's real station. " If he had been frank and open with me,", said he to himself, " this woftld never have happened." But therein Jack made two errors, THE MAETIKS OF CEO' MAMITS. 83 since Nelligan was in nowise bound to make such, revelations, nor was Massingbred the man to distinguish himself amongst his asso- ciates by a dose friendship with the son of a country shopkeeper. He had been trained in a very different school, and taught to esti- mate his own station by the standard of Ms companionship. Indeed, he had witnessed the lenity which met his transgressions when they occurred in high company, and saw his father pay the debts he had contracted amongst titled associates with a far more generous for- giveness than had they taken their origin with more plebeian friends. " "What could have induced the man to become a Fellow-Oommoner," said he, over and over ; " it is such a palpable piece of presumption ?" The truth was. Jack felt excessively irritated at never having even suspected his friend's pretensions, and was eager to throw the blame of a deception where none had ever been practised. " They told me I should find everything very different here from in England, but they never hinted at anything like this." There came then another phase over his reflections, as he asked himself, . " But what affair is it of mine ? Nelligan never thrust himseK on me, it was I that sought him. He never proposed introducing me to his family, it was I that made them out— I, in fact, who have im- posed myself upon them. If I deemed the old Grocer mfra diff., I need never have known him ; but I have not felt this to be the case. He may be — indeed, Joe NeUigan's father ought to be — a very supe- rior fellow, and at aU events the whole situation is new, and must be amusing." Such were the course of his thoughts as he arranged his clothes in the little chest of drawers, put out his few books and papers on the table, and proceeded to make himself perfectly at home and comfort- able in his new quarters. The embarrassments of selfish men are always lighter than those of other people, their egotism filling, as it does, such a very large space in the sea of their troubles. Thus was it that Massingbred suffered little discomfort at the thought of his friend NeHigan's pro- bable shame and awkwardness, his thoughts being occupied by how he, clever fellow that he was, had traced out his home and origin won, by a few words, the old father's esteem, and established himself by his own sharp wits, a guest of his house. " It is a downright adventure," said he ; he even thought how the thing would tell afterwards at some convivial meeting, and set about dramatising to himself his own part in the incident, to heighten the piquancy of the narrative. He resolved to conform in everything to the habits of the household — to accommodate himself in all respects to old Eelligan's tastes, so that Joe should actually be amazed at the g2 84 THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIN. versatile resources of his nature, and struck with astonishment at thi& new evidence of his powers. Eor was Mr. Nelligan idle during all this time : the thought of a fellow-Collegian of his son Joe being a guest under his roof was a very proud and inspiring reflection. It was such a recognition of Joe's social claims — so flat a contradiction to all the surmises of those who deprecated his College life, and said " that old Dan was wrong to put his boy into Trinity" — ^that he already regarded the incident as the full earnest of success. " "What would have brought him here, if it wasn't for Joe ? How would he ever have been under my roof, if he wasn't Joe's friend f " There was a palpable triumph here that nothing could gainsay, and with a proud heart he locked up his desk, resolving to do no more business that day, but make it one of enjoyment. " Who will I get to dine with us," thought he, " since Joe can't have the letter before this evening, and do his best he won't be here before morning ?" The question of those who should fill the places around his board was a difficulty he had never experienced before, for Mr. Nelligan was the first man in Oughterard, and never had any trouble about his dinner company. His politics — ^very decided as they were — drew the line amongst his acquaintances, and the Liberal party well knew that they alone were the partakers of his hospitalities. There now, however, came the thought that the most respectable residents of the town — Dr. Dasy, of the Infirmary ; Mr. Scanlan, the Attorney ; and Morris Croft, the Adjutant of the Galway , were Conservatives. These were the fit company to meet young Massing- bred, at least for the first day ; afterwards, he might be introduced to their own set. And yet, Father Weal Eafferty would be outraged at aU this. Peter Hayes, of the Priory, would never enter his doors again ; and Peter Hayes had made a wiU in favour of Joe NeUigan, and left him every sixpence he had in the world. " What if we mixed them aU'together ?" said Dan, fairly puzzled by all the conflicting interests. " A good dinner, some excellent port wine, and ' lashings' of whisky- punch, might mould the ingredients together — at least, when under the restraint of a stranger's presence — sufficiently to pass muster !" From his doubts as to how the experiment tvould succeed, came others as to whether the guests would condescend to meet ; and thus his embarrassments went on increasing around him without his finding a way through them. " That's an elegant salmon I saw Catty bringing home to you, NeUiganf" said a red-faced man, with large white whiskers, and a most watery look in his eyes. THE MAETIITS 01' OEO' MAETIN. 85 " Tes, Brierley, there's a young Gentleman just come down here — a friend of Joe's in College, to stop a day or two witli us." " A Nob ?" said the other, with a wink. Nelligan nodded assent, and went on : " And I'm just bothered how to get two or three, to make company for him." " If it's grandeur you want, why don't you go over to the Barracks there, and ask Captain Downie and the two others ? Paix ! it's a hearty welcome you'd get, for they've never seen the inside pf Cro' Martin since the detachment came here." "It's my own acquaintances I'd like to ask to my house. Mat Brierley," said NeUigan, proudly; "and the time was when they weren't shy of comifltg there." " What do vou say to Peter Hayes, then ?" said the other. " If you mean to do the civil thing, you'U ask him before he buys that old highwayman of a goose he's -cheapening yonder ; and there's Father Eafierty in the snuff-shop, and Tom Magennis, and myself; and that makes six, just the right number for the little round table." Nelligan paused, and seemed to reflect over the proposition. " Tou'U be quizzing the Englishman — ' taking a rise' out of the Saxon, Brierley?" said NeUigan, distrustfully. " Devil a bit ; I know better manners than that !" " Tom Magennis would have at him about politics ; I know he couldn't refrain. And I needn't teU you that English notions are not ours upon these topics." " Give Tom a hint, and he'll never touch the subject." " And Father Neal, will you vouch for him that he won't attack the Established Church, and abuse the Protestants?" "■That I will, if he's not provoked to it." " Can you answer for .yourself. Mat Brierley, that you won't try to borrow a five-pound note of him before the evening's over ?" said Nelligaa, laughingly. " I've a friend here," said Brierley, tapping the other on the breast, " that would never see me in want of such a trifle as that." NeDigan made no other reply to this speech than a somewhat awkward grimace, and walked hurriedly on to overtake a taU and very fat man that was just turning the comer of the street. This was Pather Ifeal Eafferty. A very flourishing wave of his Eeverence's hand, and an urbane bend of his body, betokened the gracious acceptance he gave to the other's invitation ; and Brierley walked away, muttering to himself: " They may thank me for this dinner, then ; for old Dan was going to feed the ' swells,' if I hadn't stopped him." 86 THE MABXnrS OF OEO' MAETHr. CHAPTEE X. A BINNBE PABTT. People wlio live m-uch together, in small and secluded diBtricts, grow at length to feel a very great distrust for aU strangers. Their own -ways and their own topics have become such a perfect world to them, that to feel ignorant of these themes appears like affectation or contempt; and the luckless man, who drops down into such a " coterie," is invariably deemed impertinent or a fool. Jack Massiog- bred fully appreciated this difficulty ; but it imparted such a piquancy to his "adventure," as he persisted in caUing it to himself, that he wouldn't have dispensed with it, had he been able. It was in this temper he entered the room where the guests were now assembled, and, rather impatiently, awaiting his arrival. It is a very cold, calculating sort of interval, that ten minutes before dinner ; and men regard the stranger presented to them witii feelings far more critical than kindly. TVCassingbred did not go through tie ordeal unscathed ; and it was easy to see in the con- straint and reserve of all present, how little his appearance contri- buted to the promise of future conviviaUty. He made no effort to dispel this impression, for, after saluting each in turn, he walked to the window, and amused himself with what was passing in the street. The dinner was announced at last, and passed off drearily enough ; none liked to adventure on any topic of local interest, and they knew of little others. Brierley was stiffly polite ; the Priest blandly tranquil ; the host himself uneasy and anxious ; and poor old Peter Hayes, of the Priory, dovmright melancholy. Massingbred saw the effect he was producing, and saw it with pleasure. His cal- culation was this. Had I started " at speed" with these fellows, they Tvomld have blown me at once. All my efforts to assimilate myself to their tastes, to join in their habits and adopt their notions, would have been detected in a trice. They must be brought to believe that they have made a convert of me themselves ; the wider the space between us at first, 'the greater wiU be their merit in making me forget it in the end. THB MAETIirS OF CEO' MLiBTIN'. 87 As the ■wMsky-pimeh made its appearance, and tke bottle of port was passed up beside the stranger, Massingbred thought the time was come when he might change his tactics, and open the campaign in force. " No," said he, as the host pushed the wine towards him, " I've come orer here to try and learn something about Ireland, and I must give myself eyery advantage of judging from a native point lof view. This excellent old port may strengthen a man to stand by many an old prejudice, but my object is to lay in a new stock of ideas, and I'd rather try a new regimen." " That's your bottle, then. Sir. Try that," said Brierley, pushing towards him a small square decanter of a faint greenish fluid. " That is ' poteen,' Mr. Massingbred," said the host. " It's the small stiU that never paid the King a farthing." " I like it all the better, for that reason," said Jack. " There's something independent in the very thought of a liquor that never submitted to the indignity of a guager." "That's not a very English sentiment. Sir," said the Priest, slily. " I don't know whether it be or not," rejoined Massingbred ; " but I can neither perfceive common sense or justice in a law that wiU not allow a man to do what he likes with his "own. "Why, if Parliament declared to-morrow you shouldn't boil your potatoes in Ireland, but eat them fried — or that you shouldn't mate bread of your com, but eat it with milk as the Neapolitans do " " I wish we coidd do the same here, with all my heart," said the Priest. " It's little wheat or even barley-meal one of our poor people ever sees." " A wet potato and water is their diet," said old Hayes, as he sipped his punch. " I can believe it well," said Massingbred, with great semblance of feeling. " I witnessed dreadful poverty and destitution as I came along, and I couldn't help asking myself — What are the gentry about in this country ; do they or do they not see these things ? If they do, are they indifferent to them ?" "They are indifferent to them; or even worse, they rejoice in them," broke in a deep-voiced, energetic-looking man, who sat at the foot of the table, and had, although silent, taken a deep interest in the conversation. " They see. Sir, in the destitution of Ireland an- other rivet in the chains of her bondage. As my ' august leader' re- marked, it's the rust on the fetters, though — and if it proclaims ,the length of the captivity, it suggests the hope of freedom." 88 THE MAETINS OP CEO' MAETIN. " Mr. Magennis is the dearest friend and trusty agent of Mr. O'Connell," said Kelligan in a whisper to Massingbred. " Here's his health, who ever said that !" cried Jack, enthusiasti- cally, and as if not hearing the host's observation. "That's a toast; we'll all drink — and standing, too," exclaimed Magennis. " ' Daniel O'ConneU, Gentlenien ; hip, hip, hurra !' " And the room rang again with the hearty acclamation of the company. " By Jove ! there was something very fine — it was chivalrous — ^in the way he brought the Catholic question to issue at last. The bold ex- pedient of testing .the event by an individual experience was as clever as it was daring," exclaimed Massingbred. " Tou were in favour of the measure then, Sir ?" said Pather Neal, with a bland smUe that might mean satisfaction or suspicion. " I was always an Emancipationist ; but I am little satisfied with the terms on which the BiU has been passed. I'd have had no re- strictions — ^no reservations. It should, according to me, have bee* unconditional or nothing." " You've heard the old proverb about half a loaf, Sir ?" said Hayes, with a dry laugh. " And a poor adage it is, in its ordinary acceptation," said Jack, quickly. " It's the prompting spirit to many a shabby compromise ! "What disabilities should apply to any of us here, in regard to any post or position in our country's service, by reason of opinions which are between ourselves and our own hearts — ^I say any of us, because some here — one I perceive is" — and he bowed to Father Eafferty — " a Catholic ; and I for myself avow, that, if for no other reason than this proscription, I'd be on this side." " You're not in Parliament, Sir, are you ?" asked old Peter, with a seriousness that sorely tested the gravity of those at either side of him. " No," said Jack, frankly. " My Father and I don't agree on these subjects ; and, consequently, though there is a seat in my family, I have not the honour to occupy it." " Axe you any relation to Colonel Moore Massingbred, Sir ?" asked Magennis. "His son, Sir." The questioner bowed, and a brief silence ensued ; short as it was, it enabled Jack to decide upon his next move, and take it. " Gentlemen," said he, " I'm fuUy aware that my name is not a favourite in Ireland ; and shall I own to you, till I came to this country myself, I half believed that this same humble opinion of us THE MAETIirS OP CEO' MAETIN. 89 ■was to oiiT credit ! I used to hear such narratives of Irish barharism, Irish brutality, Priestcraft, Superstition, and Heaven knows what be- sides, that I fully persuaded myself that our small repute was very nigh to a eulogium on us. "Well, I came over to Trinity College strongly impressed with -the notion that, because I had gained suc- cesses at Oxford, here, I should be triumphant. It is in no boastful- ness I say that I had acquitted myself well at home ; I had attained to rather a reputation. "Well, as I said, I came over to Trinity and pitted myself against the best man going, and a very pretty beating he gave me. Tes, Gentlemen, he beat me in everything, even in those which we Oxford men fancy our specialities. I soon learned that I had not the shadow of a pretension to stand against him, and I learned, also, that it was no disgrace to me to be thus vanquished, since he was not alone the foremost man of his time, but the best scholar the University had seen for a fuU. century ; and shall I add, As unpretending and as modest iu the midst of aU his triumphs as he was unapproachable by all competitdrs. And now. Gentlemen, I wUl ask your leave to drink his health ; doubtless it has been many a time toasted before over the same table, but none ever more ardently fol- lowed the sentiment with his whole heart than do I ia proposiag to you, ' Three cheers for Joe NeUigan.' " The rambling opening of this brief speech was quite forgotten in the enthusiasm that greeted its close. In every respect it was a happy diversion. It relieved the company from a discussion that promised but gloomily. It brought back their minds to a pleasant theme, and enabled them, so to say, to pay off in grateful cheers to their host his own hospitable reception of them. As for Nelligan himself, he was siacerely, deeply affected ; and, though he twice essayed to speak, he could get no further than " my son Joe" — " my boy" — and sat dovsm murmuring — " Thank you — God bless you for it" — and covered his face with his hands. Awkward as was the moment, it was relieved by the company fiUing their glasses and nodding in most friendly fashion to Massing- bred as they drank his health ; while a low murmiu: of approbation went round the table, of which he was most unmistakably the object. " Are you fond of shooting. Sir ?" asked Brierley. " "Well, then, I hope you'U not leave the country without giving me a day or two up at my little place in the mountains. There's some snipe left ; and, upon my conscience, I'U be proud to see you at Kibnaccud." " And there's worse quarters, too !" broke iu Magennis. " My ' august leader' spent a day and a half there." 90 THE MAETHTS of ceo' MAEXUf. " I'll "driTe you over there myself," wMspered Father Neal, " if -you'll finish the iKeek at the ' Eookery ' — that's what they call the Priest's house." Massingbred accepted everything, and shook hands across the taWe in ratification of half a dozen engagements. " Ton don't think I'U let you cheat me out of my guest bo easily," said NeUigan. ■" If o, gentlemen. This must be Mr. Massingbred's head-quarters as -long as he stays here, for, feith, I'd not give him up to Mr. Martia himself.^' " And who may he be ?" asked Jack. " Martin of Cro' Martin." "The owner of half the county." " Of the town you're in, this minute." " The richest proprietor in the "West." Such were the pattering replies that poured in upon him, while words of intense astonishment at his igjnorance were exchanged on "all sides. " I believe I have given you a fair guarantee for my ignorance, gentlemen," said Jack, "in confessing that I never so much as heard of Martin of Cro' Martin. Does he reside on his estate here ?" " Tes, Sir," said NeUigan, "' he lives at Cro' Martin Castle, about sixteen miles from this; and certainly, while in this part of the country, you ought to pay the place a visit. I have never been there myself, but I hear the most astonishing accounts of the splendour of the furniture and the magmificence of the whole establishment." " There's pictures there," said the Priest, " that cost the Grrand- father of the present man a quarter of a miQion sterling." "Why, the three statues in 'the hall, they say, are worth ten thousand pounds," said Brierley. " Be gorra ! when a man would give four hundred for a buU, there's no saying what he'd stop at," broke in Peter Hayes. "I went up to see him myself, and indeed he's a beauty, there's "no denying it — but four hundred pound ! Think of four hundred pound !" "The stable is the best thing in the place," said Father Ifeal ; " they've mighty nice cattle there, for every kind of work." "Thanks to his Niece for that," cried Magennis; "she knows a horse with any man in the "West of Ireland." "And can break him, too," chimed in Brierley, "I don't care what his temper is. Xiet Miss Mary get her hand on him, and he'U turn out well." " I'm driving an old chesnut- mare this minute that she trained," THE MAETINS Or OEO' MABTTN'. 91 said the Priest ; " and though she hasn't a good leg amongst the four, and is touched in the wind, she's as neat a stepper, and as easy in the moutji as a five-year old." " She's a fine young woman !" said old Hayes, drinking off his glass, as though toasting her to himself, " and not like any Martin ever I seen hefore." " No pride about her !" said Brieriey. " I wouldn't exactly say that, Matthew," interposed Father Neal. " But her pride isn't the common kind." " She's as proud as Lucifer !" broke in Ifelligan, almost angrily. " Did you ever see her drive up to a shop-door in this town, and make the people come out to serve her, pointing with her whip to this, that, and t'other, and maybe giving a touch of the lash to the boy if he wouldn't be Uvdy enough ?" " "Well, I'd never call her proud," rejoined old Hayes, " after seeing her sitting in Catty Honan's cabin, and turning the bread on the griddle for her, when Catty was ill." " Is she handsome ? " asked Massingbred, who was rather interested by the very discrepancy in the estimate of the yotmg lady. " "We can agree upon that, I believe. Sir," said the Priest ; " there's no disputing about her beauty." "I never saw her in a room," said Magennis; "but my 'august leader ' thought her masculine." " No, no," said Nelligan ; " she's not. She has the Martiu manner —overbearing and tyrannical — if you like ; but she can be gentle enough with women and children." " Tou have certainly given me a strong curiosity to see her," said Massingbred. " Does she always live here ?" " Always. I don't believe she was ever beyond the bounds of the county in her life !" " And how does she pass her time ?" asked he, with some astonish- ment. " She manages the whole estate," said NeUigan ; " her Uncle's a conceited old fool, incapable of anything, and lets her do what she hkes; and so she drains, and plants, and encloses, makes roads, hridges, and even harbours ; has aE the new-fangled inventions aboat farming, and, if what I hear be true, is spending more money on the proiperty than the fee-simple is worth." " Tes, Sir," chimed in Magennis ; " and she's trying hard to bring back the old feudal devotion to the Chief, which was the bane of Ireland. She wants the tenants to have no wiU of thrar own, but 92 THE MAETINS OP CEO' MAETIIT. just to vote whatever the landlord tells them. She had the impu- dence to tell my ' august leader ' that they had no need of him down there — ^that the county was too poor to waste its energies in factious squabbles." " If she'd let the people alone about their reKgion, I'd think better of her," said Father Neal. " What does she know about contro- versial points and disputed dogmas ?" " Maybe you're wrong about that," broke in Peter Hayes. " She came to me the other day for ten shillings for a school, and she- said, ' Come over, Mr. Hayes ; come and tell me if there's anything you are dissatisfied with.' " " And did you go ?" asked the Priest. "Pais! I did not," said Peter, with a dry look. " I thought the visit might cost me ten shillings, and so I stayed at home." The manner in which he uttered these words produced a hearty laugh, in which he himself most good-humouredly took part. " Well, she's good to the poor, anyhow," said Brierley ; " and it's a new thing for one of her name to be so !" "All policy — all scheming !" said Magennis. "She sees how. the family influence has declined, and is fast becoming obliterated in this country, by reason of their worthlessness, insolence, and neglect of the people ; and she's just shrewd enough to see how far a little cajolery goes with poor Paddy ; but, as my ' august leader ' observed, it is not a frieze coat, nor a pair of brogues, that can compensate for the loss of that freedom, that is every man's birthright ; and it is not by an ounce of tea, or a dose of physic, we'U. ever see Ireland great, glorious, and free." " ' Pirst gem of the earth, and first flower of the sea !' " exdaimed Hayes, with enthusiasm. Nor in the moment was the blunder of his quotation noticed by any but Massingbred. " Tou are an admirer of Tommy Moore, I see, Sir ?" said he to the old man. " Pm fond of ' The Meeting of the Waters,' Sir," said Hayes, meekly, and like a man who was confessing to a wealmess. " And here's the man to sing it !" cried Brierley, clappir^ the Priest familiarly on the shpulder ; a proposal that was at once hailed with acclamation. " 'Tis many a long day I haven't sung a note," said Father Neal, modestly. " Come — come. Father Neal ; we'll not let you off that way. It's not under this roof that you can make such an excuse !" V V^ THE MABTIirS OF CEO' MAETIIT. 93 " He'd rather give ua something more to his own taste," said Brierley. " ' To Ladies' eyes around, boys'— eh, Pather Bafferty ?" " That's my favourite of all the songs he sings," broke in Ma- gennis. " Let it be, ' To Ladies' eyes !' " cried Massingbred ; " and we'll drink ' Miss Martin's.' ' I'll warrant she'U prove an excuse for the glass.' " And:he sang the line with such a mellow cadence that the whole table cheered him. To the-Priest's song," given with considerable taste, and no mean musical skill-, there followed in due -course others, not exactly so successful,, by 'Brierley' and- Magennis,, and, at last, by old Peter himself, who warbled out a wonderful ditty, in a tone so doleful that two of the .company fell fast: asleep under it, and Brierley's nerves were so .affected, that, to support: himself, he got most com- pletely drunk, and in a very peremptory tone told the singer to desist ! ' ' ■ ! " Don'tyou perceive," cried he, " that there's a stranger present — a young English cub — come down to laugh at us ? Have you no dis- cretion — have; you no decency, Peter.Hayes, but- you nnist go on with your stupid old ' croniawn' about dimples and the devil' Imows what?" '.:,•■' " Another.tiimbler, Mr. Magsingbred — one more ?" said the host, -with the air, however, of, oneWho did not exact compliance. " Not.for.the world," said Jack, rising from table. " Have, I your permissioii to, light.a cigar?" ' "To do just whatever you please," said Nelligan, rather astonished at' the formal preparations; for smoking he -. now perceived brought forth, aiid which at the time y^e tell of were not so'popular as in our own day. ' ' The Priest' alone accepted Massirigbred's offer of a " weed-;" and Nelligan, opening a door into an. adjoining room where tea was laid, threw also wide a little sash-door that led into the garden, whose cool and fragrant air was perfectly delicious at the moment. Jack strolled down the steps 'and' soon lost himself in the. dark alleys, not sorry ~ to be left alone with his own thoughts, after a scene in which his convivial powers had been taxed to no mean extent. " A clever young fellow ! There's stuff in him," said the Priest, in a whisper to Nelligan. " And no impudence about him," said Brierley ; " he's just like one of ourselves." " He has a wonderful opinion of Joe !" said Nelligan. 94 THE MAETINS OE OEO' MAETIK. " He's the very man for my ' august leader,' " said Magenuis. " I'd like to bring them together !" " His father's a Treasury Lord,'* said Nelligan, sweUiog at the thought of his being the host of such company ! " And I'll tell you what, Dan NelHgan," said the Priissfc, con- fidentially, " talents won't do everything, now-a-days, without high connexions ; mark my words, and see if that young man doesn't stand high, yet. He has just got every requirement of success. He has good family, good' looks, good abilities, and" — ^here he dropped his voice stiU. lower — '' plenty of brass. Ay, Dan, if Joe could borrow a little of his friend's impudence, it would be telling him some- thing." Nelligan nodded assentingly ; it was about the only quality in the world which he could have believed Joe stood ia any need of getting a loan of. " Joe beat him out of the field," said Dan, proudly. " He told me so himself this morning." " No doubt ; and he would again, where the contest was a College one; but 'Life,' my dear friend — ^Ufe demands other gifts beside genius." " Granius!" broke in old Hayes, with an accent of the profoundest contempt—" Ganius ! I never knew a ' Ganius' yet that wasn't the ruin of aU belonging to him ! And whenever I see a young feUow that knows no trade, nor has any livelihood — who's always borrowing, here, and begging, there — a torment to his family and a burden, to his friends, I set him down at once for a ' Ganius.' " " It's not that I was alluding to, Mr. Hayes," said the Priest, in some irritation. " I spoke of real ability, sterling powers of mind and thought, and I hope that they are not to be despised." " Like my ' august leader's !' " said Magennis, proudly. " Ay, or like that young gentleman's there," said Father ITeal, with the tone of a man pronouncing upon what he understood. " I watched him to-day at dinner, and I saw that every remark he made was shrewd and acute, and that whenever the subject was new to him, he fell into it as be went on talking, picking up his facts while he seemed to be discussing them ! Take my word for it, gentlemen, he'U do !" " He doesn't know much about flax, anyhow," muttered old Hayes. " He took his punch like a man," said Brierley, bearing testimony on a point where his evidence was sure to have weight. THE MAETDTS Or CBO' MAETIH". 95 " He'll do !" said Father Neal once more, and stiU more authori- tatively than before. " Joe carried away every premium from him," said old NeHigaii, with a degree of irritation that proclaimed how little he enjoyed the Priest's eulogy of hia guest. " I know he did, Sir ; and no man has a higher respect for your son's great abilities than myself; but here's how it is, Mr. NeUigan" — and he drew himself up like a man about to deliyer a profound opinion — "here's how it is. The mind that can master abstract science, is one thing ; the faculties that can deal with feUow-mortals, is another. This world is not a ITniTersity !" "The Lord be praised for that same!" cried old Hayes, "or I'm afraid I'd fare badly in it." " To unite both descriptions of talent," resumed the Priest, ora- torically, " is the gift of but few^." "My ' august leader ' has them," broke in Magennis. "Show me the man that can deal with men!" said Father Weal dictatorially. " "Women is twice as hard to deal with!" cried old Hayes. " I'll back Nancy Drake against any man in the barony." " Paith, and I remember her a pretty woman," said Brierley, who would gladly have enticed the conversation out of its graver char racter. " A prettier girl than Maay Martin herself!" continued the inexorable Brierley, for the company did not appear to approve of his diversion. "We are now discussing politics— grave questions of State, Sir," said Pather Neal — " for we have come to times when even the most indifferent and insignificant amongst us cannot refrain feeling an interest in the progress of our country. And when I see a fine young man like that there, as one may say going a-begging for a party, I tell you that we are fools — ^worse than fools — ^if we don't secure him." "Do you mean for the borough ?" asked NeUigan. " I do, Sir ; — I mean for the borough !" "Not till we have consulted my 'august leader,' I hope," broke in Magennis. "I'm for managing our own affairs ourselves," said the Priest " What we want is a man of our own 5 and if that young gentlemaa there will take the pledges we should propose, I don't know that we'd readily get the like of him." The silence that now feU upon the party was ominous; it was 96 THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIN. plain that either the Priest's proposition was not fully acquiesced in, or that the mode of announcing it was too abrupt. Perhaps this latter appeared the case to his own eyes, for he was the first to speak. " Of course what I have said now is strictly among ourselves, and not to be mentioned outside of this room ; for until my friend Dan NeUigan here consents to take the field against the Martin interest, there is no chance of opening the borough. Let him once agree to tliat, and the Member for Oughterard will be his own nominee." "Do you really think so ?" asked NeUigan, eagerly. " I know it, Sir — and every gentleman at this table knows it." A strong chorus in assent murmured around the board. " It wpuld be a great struggle," muttered Nelligan. " And a great victory !" said the Priest. " What a deal of money, too, it would cost !" "You have. the money, Dan Nelligan ; and let me tell* you one thing" — here he leaned over his chair and whispered some words in the other's ear. Old ,!N elligan's face flushed as he listened, and his eyes sparkled with intense excitement. . "If I thought that—yS I only thought that, Pather Eafferty— I'd spend half my fortune on it to-morrow." " It's as true as I'm a living man," said the Priest, solemnly ; and then with a motion of his hand gestured caution, for Massingbred was slowly ascending the steps, and about to enter the room. With an instinctive readiness aU his own, he saw in the embar- rassed and conscious looks aroimd that he had himself been the object of their discussion, and with the same shrewdness he detected their favourable feeling towards him. " I have made them my own !" muttered he to himself. " He'll do our work well !" said the Priest in his heart. IHE MAEIINS or CEO' MAETIN. S7 CHAPTEE XI. TOUNO NBLLICAN — A3 INTfiBPBETED IN TWO WATS. " I EATHBB like that young Nelligan," said Martin, the day after Joseph had made his fost appearance at dinner. " He talks plea- santly, and nothing of a pedant, as I half dreaded he might be." " I thought his manner respectful, and very proper for his station," said Lady Dorothea, with an air of dignity. " He spoke of politics, too, with less of prejudice, less, of class bitterness, than I could have expected." "Some policy, perhaps, in that," remarked her Ladyship. "Possibly !" said Martin, with a careless shrug of the shoulders. , " He was in a measure on his trial amongst us, and felt the im- portance of making afavourable first impression." " ft was more trouble than his father would have taken, then," said Martin, smiling. " Old Dan, as they call him, is not a very con- ciliating personage." " I cannot imagine that the disposition, of such a person is a matter of much moment ; doesn't the man deal in tea, caudles, and such like?" " That he does, and in loans, and in mortgages too ; not to add, that he exercises a very considerable share of influence in his town of Oughterard." " A very shocking feature of the time we live in !" exclaimed Lady Dorothea. " So it may be ; but there it is — ^just like the wet weather, and the typhus, and the sheep-rot, and fifty other disagreeable things one can't help." " But at least they can avoid recurring to'them in conversation. Sir. There ie no necessity to open the window when the look-out ia a dreary one." ' Martin made no reply, and a pause of some moments ensued. " What arrangement did you come to with him about his party in the Borough ?" said she at last. >^, "I didn't even allude to the topic," replied he, half tes%. " These things are not td be done in that hasty fashion ; they requirfr management, discretion, and a fitting opportunity,. too." 01 98 THE MABUIHS OE CBO' KABTHT. " Why, you talk of your Grocer's boy as if he were a Cabinet Minister, Mr. Martin; you treat Hin like a great diplomatist!" " It was not exactly on the first occasion of his being in my house, tbat I could have broached the matter." " "Which implies that you mean to invite him again ?" " Possibly !" was the abrupt rejoinder. " And must the odious Attorney always be of tbe party ?" " No, Madam, the odious Attorney has set out for Dublin ; but I shortly expect here one whom your Ladyship wiU, doubtless, call an odious Lawyer — ^though, he happens to be one of the foremost men of the Irish bar." "A class I detest," said her Ladyship. "He has one consolation, at least. Madam," said Martin; "he figures in a pretty long category," " And why should he not. Sir ? What have I ever met in the dreary eighteen years and seven months I have passed here, except unmitigated self-conceit, vulgarity, and presumption — the very type of all three being your Dublin Barrister." " Their countrymen certainly entertain another estimate of them," -said Martin, laughing, for he had a lazy man's enjoyment of any passionate excitement of .another's temper. "And it was," resumed she, " in some sort, the contrast presented to such which pleased me in that young man's manner yesterday. !Not but I feel assured that ere long you and Miss Martin will spoil him." " I ! Aunt ?" said Mary, looking up from her work ; " how am I to exercise the evil influence you speak of?" " By the notice: — ^the interest you vouchsafe him. Miss Martin, — the most flattering compliment to one in his station." " If he bears Collegiate bonours so meekly. Aunt," said Mary, quietly, " don't you think his head might sustain itself under my attentions ?" " Possibly so, young Lady, if not accompanied by the accessories of your rank in life," said Lady Dorothea, haughtily; "and as to College honours," added she, after a pause, " they are like school dis- tinctions, of no earthly value out of the class-room." " Paith, I don't know that," said Martin. " At least, in my own experience, I can say, every fellow that hSSmade a figure in life gave in^cations of high ability in his College years. I could go over the names of at least a dozen." " Pray don't, Sir — spare your memory, and spare us. Miss Martin and I will take it for granted that this young man is destined to be TSB MAETDfS 01' OEO' MAETIN. 99 Lord Chancellor— AmbasBador. at St. Petersburg— or smything else you please. I have no doubt that the time is approaching when such things are very possible." " It has come abeady, my Lady," said Martin ; aiid in the manner he uttered the words there was no saying whether the sentiment was pleasurable or the reverse. " And yet, I trust that there] is a little interval still left to us ere that consummation," said she, with pretentious dignity. "Birth and blood have not lost aU their prestige !" " But they soon would," said Mary, " if they feared to enter the lists against those less well-born than themselves." "Miss Martin!" exclaimed her Ladphip, "what words are these?" " I hope they are void of offence. Aunt. Assuredly I never con- ceived that I could wound any susceptibilities here by saying that the well-born are ready to meet the plebeian on any ground." " There is no necessity for such trials. Miss Martin ;"the position of each has been so accurately defined by — ^by — 'by Providence," said she, at last, blushing slightly as she uttered the word, " that the contest is almost impossible." " The French Eevolution reveals another story, Aunt, and tells us, besides, how inferior were the noblss of that country in the day of , struggle." " Upon my word, these are very pretty notions, young Lady,. Have they been derived from the intelligent columns of the Qahomf Monitor, or are they the teachings of the gifted Mr. Scanlan ? As- suredly, Mr. Martin," said she, turning to him, " Papa was right, when he said that the Irish nature was essentially rebelliofus." " Complimentary, certainly," said Martin, laughing. " He founded the remark on history. Papa was uncommonly well read, and used to observe that there seemed something in the- Celtic nature actually iaeompatible with that high-souled, chivalrous, loyalty Englishmen exhibit." " But how much of the Celt have Mary and myself got in us, jf your observation is meant for us. Why, my Lady,, what with inter- marriage centuries ago, and change of blood ever since, the ■• distinctive element has been utterly lost." " And yet we are not English, Uncle," said Mary, with something that smacked of pride. "Confess it: we have our nationality, and that our people have traits of their own." " That they have ; but I never heard them made matter of boast- fulness before," said-Lady Dorothea, sneeringly. h2 100 THE 3IAETINS Or CEO' MAETllf. ■ " "Well, Aunt, it is not too late to hear- it now ; and I, for one, am proud of my country — not of its political station, for it is- dependent — not of its wealth, for it is poor — but of its genial courtesy, its free-hearted hospitality, its mdiily patience under many a crushing calamity, and, not least of all, its gallantry on every field where England has won honour." " I have read of aU these things ; but my ovra experiences are limited to the rags and recklessness of a semi-barbarous people. Nay, Miss Martin, I'm not going to 'discuss the matter. I have lived elsewhere — ^you have not. I have acquired habits — prejudices, perhaps you'd call them — in behalf of twenty things that Irish civilisation sees no need of." " "Would it not be kind. Aunt, were you to aid us by the light of -these same experiences ?" said Mary, with an air of well-assumed humility. " Certainly not, at the price of intercourse with the natives !" exclaimed her Ladyship, haughtily. " I detest, on principle, the Lady Bountiful character. The whole of that hymn-book, castor- oil, and patent-barley sympathy, is shockingly vulgar. Like many things, well done at first, it fell into low hands, and got spoiled." The tone of sarcasm in which this was spoken made Mary's fcheeks crimson, and the flush spread itself over her neck. StiU she made no reply, but, bending down her head, continued to work more^ .assiduously. " When are we to leave this place, Mr. Martin ?" asked her Lady- -ship, abruptly. " I believe we are only waiting here tUl it be your pleasure to quit." " And I dying to get away-this fortnight past ! Some one cer- tainly told me that Cro' Martin was not ready for us. "Was it yoa, Miss Martin?" " No, Aunt." "It ran in my head it was you, then. "Well, can we go at once — to-day — this afternoon ?" " To-morrow we might, perhaps," said Mary. " Scarcely so,',' said Martin, interposing, " seeing that I have asked Eepton to come down here and see the place." " But you can drive him over from Cro' Martin. It would be in- tolerable, .the idea of remaining here just for him. So we shall go to- morrow. Miss Martin." And with this, uttered iu the tone of an, order, her Ladyship swept proudly out of the room, from which Martin, not over-anxious for a tete-a-tete with his niece, stepped noiselessly at the same moment by another door. THE MAEXINS 01' CEO' MAETIN. 101 S,carcely had the door closed behind Lady Dorothea, when it was reopened to admit Joe Nelligan, who had met her Ladyship in the corridor, and been received with such palpable coldness of manner, that he entered the room bashful and awkward, and hardly knowing whether to advance or retire. " I fear I have made my visit at an untimely hour, Miss Martin," said he, blushing; "but the truth is, I know next to nothing of society and its habits, and if you would only be kind enough to teU me when I am a transgressor " " The notion of learning from me is perfect," said Mary, interrupt- ing him with a pleasant laugh. " Wby, Mr. NeUigan, I never could be taught anything, even of the most ordinary rules of ceremonial life! though," added she, slily, "I have lived certainlyin the midst of great opportunities." "Bat, then, Jhave not," said NeUigan, gravely, and accepting the speech in all seriousness. "Well, it comes pretty much to the same thiag," said she, smiling, " since I have profited so little by them." " I came thus early, however," said he, earnestly, " because I was impatient to correct an impression which might have remained frorh something that feU from me last night. Ton smile, I perceive,'' said be, " that I should attach so much importance to my own words !" " It was not at that I smiled," said Mary, archly.. " No matter," continued he. " It is bptter, at the cost of a little wounded vanity, that I should escape a misconception. When your Uncle spoke to me, last night, about the division of parties in the Borough Tou are smiling again. Miss Martin !" " Don't you perceive. Sir, that what amuses me is the mistaken estimate you have formed of me, by addressing me on such topics ?" "But I came here expressly to speak to you," said he, with in- creased eagerness ; "fori have always heard— always understood— that none ever took a deeper interest in aU that regarded the country than yourself." " If you mean, by the country, the lives and fortunes of those who Hve in it— the people by whose toH it is fertiKsed— by whose traits it is a nation— I teU you frankly that I yield to none for interest in aU that touches them; but if you come to talk ofi privileges and legislative benefits, I know nothing of them ; they form a land of whose very geography I am ignorant." " But the subject is the same, and the mind which comprehends one, could embrace the other." " In the one, however, I can labour usefuHy and fittingly, without 102 THE MAUTHTS 01' CEO' MAETIIT. mucLi risk of mistake — never, indfeed, of any mistake that might prove of serious moment. The other, involves great questions, and has great hazards, perils, to a&ight stronger heads than mine !" " There is much, in what you say," said he, reflectingly. " There is far more than I am able to express," said she, warmly. '^ Just remember, for a moment, that of all the laws you great and wise men are making, over which you rant and wrangle, and assail each other so vindictively, how few ever touch the interests or de- scend to the fortunes of those for whom you assume to make them — that the craftiest devices of your legislation never uproot an old pre- judice, nor disturb an antiquated susperatition ; while I, and such as I — and there need be nothing more humble — can by a little timely help ip,. trouble— a little care, or even a little counsel — comfort many a failing heart — cheer up many a sinking spirit — and, better stiU, do good service by teaching the poor man that he is of one family with those better off than himself, and that he is not an outcast because he is lowly!" . As Mary went on, her eyes shone more brilliantly, and her cheeks glowed, tin Nelligan forgot even the words she spoke in admiration of the speaker. " But here comes my Uncle," cried she, hastily, " to rescue you fromfurther amplification of the theme. Come in, Uncle," — for Martin was already about to retire—" it is Mr. NeUigan who wants to speak to you." " Oh, I was in terror of a regular morning visitor!" said Maitin, shaking the young man's hand cordially. " They didn't teU me you were here." "I came, Sir," said Joseph, hesitatingly, "to rectify what might, perhaps, require correction, in an observation I made last nighL We were talking about the proper basis of a representation " "My dear boy," broke in Martin, laughingly, "there's nothing lolls me like asking me to go over the past, either in reading an old letter, or recalling an old conversation. And as to calling on me to justify something I once defended in argument, I'd give up the cause at once, and say I was aU wrong, in preferesnce." " Then I need not fpar you; will hold me responsible -" "Not for anything, except your pledge to cUne here to-morrow at seven." Notwithstanding all the easeand frankness of Martin's manner — and as manner it was perfect— the young man felt far from satisfied. His want of breeding — that cruel want strong enough to mar the.pro- mise of high ability, and even impair the excellence of many a noble THE MAETINS 01' OEO' MAETilT. 108 nature — seemed to hold, him fest bound to the object of his -visit. He had come for an explanation, and he couldn't go away without it. Mary read his diffieuHy at. once, and as she passed him to leave the room, said, in a low voice, " To-morrow evening." !N'elligain started at the words, and his face became scarlet. What could she have meant ? "Was it that she wished him to come, and had thus condeseenddd to remind him of his promise ? or was it to suggest a more fitting moment to return to the late discussiGn ? " Axe you coming to luncheon, JN'elligan ?" said Martin, Ksdiig; "JKTo, Sir; not to-d»p^. I have a call — aviait — some miles off." And while he was yet stammering out his excuses, Martin waved a familiar goodrby.wdth his .'hand, land. passed into the adjoining room. "And what can this mean ?" said NeUigan to himself, " Is this the cordial treatment of an intimatQ, or ie it contemptuous indifference for.qn iuferioi:?" 'And , far more puzzled than he should have been with the knottiest problein of the " Principia," he quitted the house and strolled homewards. His way led along the, shore, and consequently in front of that straggling row of cottages which formed the village. It chanced to be the last day of the month, and, by the decree of the Almanack, the close of the bathing season. The scene thett going forward was ©ne of unusual and' not unpicturesque confusion. It was a general break-up of the encampment, and all were preparing to depart to their homes, inland. Had young Nelligan- been — ^■w»bat he was not — anything of a Huraiorist, he might have been amused at the variety of eqiupage and costume around Mm. Conveyances the most cumbrous, and most rickety, drawn by farm horses, or even, donkeys, stopped the way before each door, all in process' of loadiag by a strarigely attired assemblage, whose Welsh' wigs, flannel dress- ing-gowns, and: woollen nightcaps, showed how, by a common (Jonsent^ all had agreed to merge personal vanity in the emergency of the' moment. The innumerable little concealments which had sheltered many a narrow household, the various little stratag«nys that had eked out many a scanty wardsobe, were now abandoned with a noble sin- cerity ; and had there been a cork leg or a glass eye in the conipany, it would not have shrank from the ga,ze of that open-hearted com- munity. Such of the travellers as had taken their places were already STir- rounded with the strangest medley of household gods it is possible to conceive. Like trophies, birdcages, candlesticks, spits, cullenders, fenders, and bread^ibaskets bristled around them,: making one marvel how they ever got in, or, still more, how they ever were to get out 104 THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIS. agaia ; the croaking of invalids, with crying children, barking terriers, ^nd scolding owners, making a suitable chorus to the confusion. StiU, amidst all the discomforts of the moment, amidst the last wrangUngs with landlords, and the last squabbles over broken furni- ture and missing movables, it must be owned that the prevailing temper of the scene was good-humour and jollity. The Irish tempera- ment seems ever to discover something congenial in those incidents of confusion and bustle which to other people are seasons of unmitigated misery ; and even out of its own sources of discomfiture can derive matter for that quaint humour with which it can always regard life. In this wise was it that few now dwelt much upon their own incon- veniences, so long as they were free to laugh at those of their, neighbours. Before he was weU aware of it, Toung NeUigan found himself in the very midst of this gathering, whose mirthful accents suddenly subsided at his approach, and an air of constraint and reserve seemed to take their place. Never very quick to appreciate such indications, he drew nigh to a very lofty " conveniency," in which, with an air of stately dignity, Mrs. Cronan sat enthroned on a backgammon-table, with a portentous-looking cap-case in her lap. " My mother will be sorry not to have seen you before you went away, Mrs. Cronan," said he to that lady, whose demure and frigid demeanour made the speech sound like a bold one. "I'd have left my card and my compliments. Sir,' if I wasn't so pressed for time," responded she, with a haughty gravity. "With P. P. 0. on the corner, "~- said the Captain from his pony- gig alongside ; " which means, pour prendre ' congo,' or ' congee,' I never knew which." " She'll be very lonely now, for the few days we remain," resumed Joe, conscious of some awkwardness, without Imowing where or how. " Not with tjjie society of your distinguished acquaintances at 'the Nest,' Sir !" the sarcastic import of which reply was more in the manner than the mere words ; while the old Captain murmured : " Begad, she gave it to him there — a regular double-headed ghot!"- "We hope to follow you by the end of the week," said NeUigan, trying to seem at ease. " If you can tear yourselves away, I suppose," said Miss Busk, through a double veil of blue gauze, for that lady's auburn ringlets reposed at the moment in the small mahogany casket beside her. " There is not much attraction in the spot just now," said Joseph, smiling. THE MAETllfS OF OEO' MAETHT. 105 " Not for the like of us, perhaps, Sir," retorted Mrs. Cronan— " not for persons in our station ; but youF fashionable people, I belieTe, always prefer a place when the vulgar company have left it." " Good again — grape and canister !" chuckled out the Captain, ■who seemed to derive a high enjoyment from the scene. " "Would you move a little to one side, Mr. JSTeUigan ?" said the Doctor ; ".my pony won't stand." " Oh, he's mettlesome," said Joe, good-humouredly, as he stepped out of the way. " That he is. Sir, though he never was leader in a four-in-hand ; but, you see, poor creatures of quadrupeds forget themselves down here, just like their betters !" And the success of this saUy was acknowledged by a general laugh from the company. The tone of the speakers, even more than their words, convinced Joseph that, from some cause or other, he was the object of their sarcasms ; and although slow to take offence — even to the verge of what many might have called an unfeeling indifference — ^he felt their treatment most acutely. It was, then, in something like a haughty defiance that he wished them a careless good-by, and continued his way. " The world seems bent on puzzling me this morning," muttered he, as he sauntered slowly on. " People treat me as though I were playing some deep game to their detriment — I, who have no game — almost no future !" added he, despondingly. " For what avails it to attain eminence amidst such as these ; and, as for the others, I was not born for them." To these moody thoughts succeeded others stiU gloomier. It had only been withia a short time back that the yoimg man had begun to appreciate the difficulties of a position to which his early successes imparted increasing embarrassment ; and darkly brooding over these things, he drew near his mother's cottage. She was already at the door to meet him, with a letter in her hand. " This is from yoxir father, Joe," said she. " He wants you in aU haste up at the town; and I've packed yoiu; clothes, and sent off Pitsey for Mooney's car ; so «ome in and eat something at once." Joseph took the note from her hand, and perused it in silence. It was brief, and ran thus : " Beab Job, — I want you up here, as soon as possible, to meet a friend whom you'll be surprised to see. I say no more, but that I expect you by dinner-time. — ^Yours ever, " D. N." 106 THE MAETIlfS QE CEO' MAEIHT. " What does that mean, Joe ?" asked his mother. He only shrugged his shoulders in reply. " And who can it be ?" said she, again. • " Some of the townspeople, of course," said he, carelessly. " No, no, Joe ; it must be a stranger. Maybe it's Morgan Drake ; his aunt e3q)ected him back from Jamaica before Ciristmas. Or it's Corny Dwyer's come home from Africa ; you know he went on the deploring expedition " "Exploring! mother; exploring!" " Well, exploring, or deploring — it's all the same — he went four years ago, and all the tidings they've had of him was an. elephant's tooth he sent home to his stepfather. I know it's Cori^, for yaui fether always Uked him and the funny storiea he told." " Perhaps so !" replied Joe. "I wonder, is; he grown any bigger? he was little better than a dwarf when he went away, and the same age as yoiurself. No, indeed, he was older — fourteen months older. It was Catty Henderson was running in my head. Isn't she a£ne young woman, Joe ?" "JRemarkably so," saidrhe, with more animation in bis tone. " A little bit too haughty-looking and proud, maybe, considering her station in life, and that she has to go to seryice— — " " Go to service, mother?" " To be sure she has. If they can't get her a place as a Gov«meas ox a Companion, she'll have to take what she can get. Her father's married again, my dear Joe; and. when men do that!" And here Mrs. Nelligan uplifted her hands and eyes most expressively. " Ay, indeed," continued she, with a heavy sigh, "and if it was once, it was fifty times, Catty's poor mother said to me, ' Sarah,' says she — she never called tob Sally, but always Sarah — ' Sarah,' says she, ' I've but one comfort,, and that is, that Catty wiU. never want a mother while you live. You'll be the same to her as myself — just as fond, and just as forgiving ;' them was hes very words !" " And I hope- you have never forgotten them, mother?" said Joe, with emotion. i "Don't you, see I haven't; an't I repeating them to yon this minute?"' " Yes ; but I mean the spirit and the meaning of them," rejoined he, " and that you feel the obligation they've laid upon you." " To be sure I feel it; don't I firet over it every time I'm ak>ne ? for I can't get it out of my head that maybe she'd appear to me " "■Who?— Catty?" THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIN. lOT " No, but her mother. Oh, it's nothing to laugh at, Joe. There was Eliza £!eane came back every Easter Monday, for two-and-twenty years, to search for a graVy spoon. Well, if it's laughing you are, I won't say any more ; but here's the car now, and it's late enough we'll be on the road !" " I'm not thinking of going, mother. I never meant to go," said Joe, resolutely. " Never meant to go, after your Mher's note to you, Joe ?" cried she,: in half horror. " Surely it's all as one as ordering you up there." "I know aH that," said he, calmly; "but I see no reason why I should forego the pleasure of a party at the Martins' for the sake of meeting the convivial cdebrities of Oughterard." " But what win you say?" " Say I'm engaged, have accepted another invitation ; or, better stUl, leave you to make my excuses, mother. Come, come, don't look so terribly shocked and terrified ; you know well enough that my father's foup-year old mutton and his crusty port will compensate the company ias even heavier inflictions than my absence." " They were always fond of you, Joe," said Mrs. Nelligan, half reproachfully. " Nothing of the kind, mother ; they never cared for me, nor was there any reason why they should. I'm sure I never cared for them. "We endured one another, that was aU." " Qh, dear, but I'm glad your father is not listening to you," said she, with a stealthy glance around, as though not perfectly assured of secrecy. " So then, I suppose, tiiere's nothing for it but to go up myself, and make the best of it ; and sure it's aU a lottery what temper he's in, and how he'll take it. I remember when they put the new duty on what was it, Joe ? I think it was hides ■" "Not the least matter, mother; you've only to say that Mr. Martin has been kind enough to show me some attentions, and that I am sUly enough — if you like to say so — ^to prefer them to the festive pleasures of Oughtersu-d. In another week or so I shall have to go back to College. Let me, at least, enjoy the few days, of my vacation in my own fashion." Mrs. Nelligan shook her head mournfully over these signs of rebellion, and muttering many a gloomy foreboding, she went off to her room, to make hep preparations for the journey. 108 THE MAUTIITS OF CEO' MAETIN. CHAPTEE XII. A VEKr "CROSS EXAMINATION." ' The morning was bright and siinny, the air sharp, crisp, and bracing, as the heayy. travelling-carriage, which conveyed Mr. Martin- and Lady Dorothea, rolled smoothly along the trimly-kept approach to Oro' Martin. Many a beautiful glade — many a lovely vista opened on them as they passed along deep-bosomed woods and gently-sweUing slopes, dotted over with cattle, stretched away on either side, while far in the distance could, be seen the battlemented towers of the princely residence. 'The Lover of Nature might have felt intense pleasure at a scene so abounding in objects of beauty. A Painter would have lingered with delight over .eifects of light and shade, glorious displays of colour, and graceful groupings of- rocks, and trees, and gnarled, stumps. A Proud man might have exulted in the selfish enjoyment of feeling that these were all his own, while a Benevolent one woidd have revelled in the thought of all the channels through which such wealth might carry the blessings of aid and charity. "Which of these feelings predominated now in the minds of those who, snugly encased in furs, occupied the respective comers of the ample coach ? Shall we own it ? — not any of them. A dreamy, un- remarking indifference was the sentiment of each; and they sat silently, gazing on a prospect which suggested nothing, nor awoke one passing emotion in their hearts. Had any one been there to express his admiration of the landscape, praised the trees, the cattle, or the green grassy slopes, Martin might have heard him with plea- sure, and listened even with interest to his description. My Lady, too, might not unwillingly have lent an ear to some flattery of the splendid demesne of which she was mistress, and accepted, as half homage, the eulogy of what was hers. None such was, however, there ; and so they joutneyed along, as seemingly unconscious aa though the scene were wrapt in midnight darkness. Martin had known the spot, and every detail of it, from his. boy- hood. The timber, indeed, had greatly grown — graceful saplings had become stately trees, and fealftery foliage deepened iato leafy shade ; but he himself had grown older too, and his sense of enjoyment, dulled and deadened with years, saw nothing in the scene to awaken THE MABTINS OF CEO MAETIN. 109 pleasure. As for Lady Dorothea, slie had reasoned herself into the notion that the walls of her own grounds were the boundaries of a prison, and had long convinced herself that she was a suffering martyr to some mysterious senseTjf duty. From the drowsy languor in which they reclined they were both aroused, as the pace of the carriage gradually diminished from a smooth brisk trot to an uneven jolting motion, the very reverse of agreeable. ""What have they done? Where are they going?" said Lady Dorothea, peevishly. , And Martin called out from the window, in tones eveii less gentle. " Oh! it's the new approach; the road is not quite completed," said he, half sulkily, as he resumed his place. " Another of Miss Martin's clever devices, which I must say I never concurred in." " Why, you always professed to hate the old road by the stables." " So I did ; but I never agreed , to passing round the back of the house, and thus destroying the privacy of the flower-garden — the only spot I may dare to caU my owji. Oh, dear ! I shall be shaken to death. Have they broken the carriage? I'm certain they've smashed the spring at my side !" Martin gave a cold, supercilious smile, the only reply to th^se words. " They've only broken a trace, I perceive," said he, casting a hurried glance through the window, as the carriage came to a dead stop. " Tou are equanimity itself. Sir, this morning," said her Lady- ship, in a voice almost tremulous with anger. " I wonder if this admirable temper will befriend you when you shall see the cost of this precious piece of road-making ?" "It employs the people," said he, coolly. " Employs the people ! How I hate that cant phrase. Can't they employ themselves on their own farms ? Haven't they digging and draining, and whatever it is, to do of their own? Must they of necessity depend on us for support, and require that we should institute useless works to employ them ?" As if to offer a living commentary on her speech, a number of half-fed and less than half-clad men now drew near, and in accents of a most servile entreaty, .begged to offet their services. Some, indeed, had already busied themselves to repair the broken harness, and others were levelling the road, c*rying stones to fill up holes, and in every possible manner endeavouring to render assistance, but ,all were vociferous in asserting that the delay would not be above a 110 THE MAETINS OB CKO' MABTIN. minute or two — that th.e road waB an elegant one, or would be soon — and that it was a " raal blessiag" ±o see her LadysMpand the Master looking so well. In feet, they were thankful and hopeful together ; and, BiotwithBtanding'tiie evidences of the deepest destitu- tion in their appearance, they wore an air of easy, jaunty politeness, suck as maiiy a professional diner-out might have envied. Lady Dorothea was in no mood to appreciate such traits ; indeed, if the "truth must be told, they rather ruffled Jthan soothed her. Martin saw nothing in them : he was too much accustomed to the people to be struck with any of thejr paduliarities, and so he lay back in silent apathy, and took no notice of them. "With aU their alacrity and all theirgood'^will^'-^^nd there was no lack of either-^there was yet such a total absence of all system and "order, that their eiforts were utterly useless. Some tugged away manfully to raise stones too heavy to, lift ; others came rudely in contact with fellows heavily lad^n, and upset- them. The sturdy arms that spoked the hind wheels were resolutely antagonised by as vigorous struggles' to move thoji^DrB ones. : Every one shouted, cried, cursed, and laughed, by turns, and a more hopeless scene of. confusion and uproar need not be conceived. ' Nor was Lady Dorothea herself an .inactive spectator ; for,, with -her head from the carriage- window, she directed a hundred impossible measures, and sat down at last, overcome withlrage !and mortification at their blunders. The tumult was now at,the highest, andthe horses, terrified by the noise around them, had commenced plunging and rearing fear- fully, when M^rv Martin came galloping- lip to the spot at fall speed. ,.-.', "^Let go thait bridle., Hog^n," cried. she, aloud; "you are driving that horse mad. Loose the leaders' traces — ^unbuAle the reins, Patsey — the wheelers wijl ^tand quietly., There, lead them away. Speak to that mare, she's. teembUiig with fear. I told you not to come by this road, Barney ; .and it was only by accident that I saw the wheel-tracks; Aj thousand pardons. Aunt Dora, for this mishap. Barney misunderstood pay orders. It will be all right in a moment. Once over this bad spot, theroad is hard and leveL" '■' Having no taste, noi? any genius for adventures. Miss Martin," began her Ladyship But Mary did not-awaitthe remainder of the speech, for, turning her horse sharply round, and beckoning to some of the people to follow her,, she was away across the lawn at a smart canter. Having arrived at a small wooden bridge over a river, she ordered the men to lift some of the pknking, by the aid of which they soon constructed a firm and safe passage for the oarriagej and, Q THE MAETIKS OE CEO' MAETIK. Ill as her presence was the signal for quiet obedience and prompt action, in less than ten minutes the difficulty was surmounted, the horses rehamessed, and all in readiness to proceed on their way. Martin looked on in silent satisfaction, not oifering a single suggestion, or even seeming to feel interested in the events, hut enjoying, with aU a lazy man's pleasure, the activity displayed around him. Not so Lady Dorothea. If she did not like "an adventure," she loved a " grievance." Whatever ministered to her selfishness, even in the remotest degree, was grateful to her. Mary's opportune arrival had now converted what might have passed for a calamity into a mere momentary inconvenience ; and she could not conceal her discontent. " Tour Heroines are a perfect torment, at least to us souls of commoner clay. They live only for disasters." " I must say that Mary extricated us from what might have be- come one," said Martin, drily. " We are indebted to her, however, for the possibility. This de- testable road, which I promise you I'U never come again, is entirely her own invention. I hope,' Miss Martin," added she, from the window, " that the other approach is to be kept in repair — at least for me." But Mary did not hear the appeal, for she was bandaging the arm of a poor coujitry fellow who had been sorely cut. " There, drive on, Barney," cried Lady Dorothea. " I shall be taken iU if I stay here. Eeally, Mr. Martin, your niece's accomplish- ments are the least feminine one can conceive." And improving this theme, she continued the entire way till the carriage drew up at the door of the Castle. " Yes, Sir," said she, as she descended, " that heavy sigh shows you are indeed greatly to be pitied. No martyrdom ever exceeded yours. I am quite aware of all my imperfections, and can at least fancy every- thing you could say of me and my temper. — ^What did you say, Collins ?" said she, addressing the obsequious-looking servant, who, vrith an air of gloomy joy, very respectful — but meant to mean more — ^had whispered something in her ear. " A young lady, did you say,Collins?" " Tes, my Lady." " Then you were very wrong, CoUins. Tou meant to say a young person." " Tes, my Lady — a young pOTson, like a lady." " Not in the least, except to such appreciation as yours. Where is she ?" " In your Ladyship's library." " Did she come alone ?" 112 SHE MA.ETINS OF CEO MAETIN. " 1^0, my Lady. Mr. Henderson drove her over in his car, and said he'd pass this way again in the evening." And now her Ladyship swept proudly by, scarcely noticing the bowing servants who had formed into ,a line along the haU, and who endeavoured to throw into their sorrowful faces as much of joy as might consist with the very deepest humility. Nor was she more condescending to old Catty, who stood curtseying at the top of the stairs, with a basket of keys on her arm that might have served to lock up all Newgate. " How cold every place feels ! Collins, are you sure the rooms are properly aired ?" cried she, shuddering. "But I suppose it's the climate. Have another stove put there," said she,'pointing to an impossible locality. " Tes, my Lady," replied Collins. " And warmer carpets on these passages." " Tes, my Lady ; it shall be done to-morrow." , "No, Sir; to-day." " Tes, my Lady ; this afternoon." " I don't remember if the windows are double along here." " Tes, my Lady, they are all double towards the north." " Then they fit badly, for I feel the draft acutely here. It's like the keen air of a mountain ;" and Collins gave a slight sympathetic shudder, and really looked cold. A somewhat haughty glance from her Ladyship, however, as quickly reproved him, for CoUins ought to have known that it was not by such as himself changes of temperature could be appreciable. And now she passed on and entered that part of the mansion peculiarly her own, and where, it must be owned, her spirit of fault-finding would have been at a loss what to condemn. Lady Dorothea's library occupied an angle of the building, and from this circumstance, included within its precincts an octagonal tower, the view from which comprised every varied character of land- scape. This favoured spot was fitted up in the most luxurious taste — with rarest gems of art, and cabinet pictures of almost fabulous value — ^to supply which foreign dealers and connoisseurs had been for years back in correspondence with her Ladyship. Now, it was some rare treasure of carved ivory, or some sculptured cup ' of Benvenuto, that had been discovered accidentally, and which, despite the emulous zeal of Princes and Cardinals to obtain, was destinedfor herself. Now, it was some choice mosaic, of which but one other specimen existed, and that in the Pope's private collection at the Quiriual. Such was her ardour in 'this pursint of excellence, that more than once had every object of this . precious chamber been THE MAETrefS OF CKO' maetht. 113 changed, to give place to something more costly, more precious, and rarer. Per about two years back, however, the resources of the old world seemed to offer nothing worthy of attention, and the vases, the " statuettes," the bronzes, the pictures, and medallions had held thei? ground undistui:bed. . Such was the sanctity of this spot, that, in showing the house to strangers, it was never opened, nor, without a special order from Lady Dorothea — a favour somewhat more difficidt to obtain than a firman from the Sultan — could any one be admitted within its walls. The trusty servant in whose charge it was, was actually invested with a species of sacred character in the household, as one whose feet had passed the threshold of the tabernacle. Our reader may then picture to himself something of Lady Dorothea's varied sensations — for, indeed, they were most mingled — as she heard a slight cough from within the chamber, and, drawing nearer, perceived a female figure seated in front of one of the windows, calmly regarding the landscape. "With a degree of noise and bustle sufficient to announce her approach, Lady Dorothea entered the tower; while the stranger, rising, retired one step, and curtseyed very deeply. There was in aU the humility of the obeisance a certain degree of graceful dignity that certainly struck her Ladyship ; and her haughty look, and haughtier tone, were some little modified, as she asked by what accident she found her there ? " My intrusion was a pure accident, my Lady," replied the other, in a low, soft voice ; " mistaking the door by which I had entered a room, I wandered on through one after another until I found myself here. I beg your Ladyship to believe that nothing was further from my thoughts than to obtrude upon your privacy." " Tour name ?" began her Ladyship ; and then, as suddenly cor- recting herself, she said, " Tou are Miss Henderson, I suppose ?" " Tes, my Lady," she replied, with a slight bend of the head. " I sent for you," said Lady Dorothea, in a half-careless tone, while she turned over some books on the table, as if in search of something — "I sent for you, partly at the request of your mother " "My stepmother, my Lady," interposed the girl, calmly. Lady Dorothea stared at her for a second or two, as though to say, how had she dared to correct her ; but either that the reproof had not met its fuU success, or that she did not care to pursue it, she added : " At the request of your friends, and partly out of curiosity." And here Lady Dorothea raised her glass to her eye, and quietly 114 THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETHT. surveyed her ; an examination which, it must be owned, none could have borne with more unshaken fortitude, not the slightest tremor of a limb, not the faintest change of colour, betokening that the ordeal was a painful one. " I do see that you have been educated in Prance," said her Lady- ship, witli a smile of moat supercilious import, while a curtsey from the young girl admitted the fact. " "Were you brought up in Paris ?" asked she, after a pause. " For four years, my Lady." " And the remainder of the time, wliere was it passed ?" " "We travelled a great deal, my Lady, in Ghermany and Italy." " ' "We' — who were the * we' you speak of? Please to bear in mind that I know nolihing of your history." " I forgot that, my Lady. I thought my stepmother had, perhaps, informed your Ladyship." " Of nothing whatever, child," said she, haughtily, " save of your having a foreign education, and wishing, or hoping, to find some engagement as a Governess or a teacher;" and the last words were drawledr out languidly, as though they were suggestive of all that was wearisome and a bore. " So you must be good enough to explain who ' we' were." " The Duchesse de Luygnes and her Sa,mRj, my Xiadj." , " Tou travelled with them^ — and in what capacity, pray ?" " I wq,s called compafiion to the Prineese de CourceUes, the eldest dajighter of iheDiichess, my Lady." " Companion ! — ^why, you must have been a mere child at that time ?" " A mere child, my Lady; but they took me from the Pensionnat, to speak English with the young Princess." " And then they took the chaise of youp education, I conclude ?" " Tes, my Lady." " And to what extent — or raither, in, what direction ; .1 mean, what object had they in view in chorosing your studies ?" " They gave me the same Masters as to the young Pnacesa, my Lady ; and I was instructed in all nespecta as she was." " And treated like her also, I conclude ?" said Lady Dorothea, with a sneering smile. " Madame la Duchesse was ever most kind to me," said the girl, half proudly. " Kind — yes, of course — kind, if you conducted yourself properly and to her satisfaction. A person of her condition would be kind ; but I trust this did not proceed so &r as to spoil you ? I hope it never made you forget your station ?" THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIIT. 115 "I trust it did not, my Lady." "Witli what part of the establishment did you live ? Where did you dine ?" " With the PrinceaSjiny Lady; except on fete days, when we were invited to the table of the Duchess." " I never heard of anything more absurd — outrageously absurd. Why, are you aware, yoimg woman, that these same friends of yours have done you irreparable mischief? They have, so to say, ruined your entire future, for how can I, and others in my station, ayaU. my- self of your services, with such habits and expectations as these P" " Certainly not expectations, my Lady. I never did or can expect such condescension from another." " No matter ; your head is filled with ideas unbefitting your con- dition, usages, habits, associations, all foreign to a menial station. Tou have been admitted to privileges,- the want of which would be felt as hardships. In fact, as I said before, they have done you irre- parable injury, Tou must feel it yourself." A very fe,int smile, half in deprecation of the appeal, was the only reply of the young girl. " Tou are certain to feel it later on in life, if you are not sensible of it at present, that I can vouch for, young woman," said Lady Dorothea, with all the firmness with which she could utter an unplea- sant speech. "Nothing but unhappiness ever resulted from such ill-judged indulgence. Indeed, if your mother had mentioned the cir- cumstance, I scarcely think I should have sent for you" — she paused to see if any strong signs of contrite sorrow displayed themselves in the young girl's features ; none such were there, and Lady Dorothea more sternly added — " I may safely say, I never should have asked to see you." • When a speech meant to be severe has failed to inflict the pain it was intended to produce, it invariably recoils with redoubled power upon him who uttered it ; and so Lady Dorothea now felt all the pang of her own ungenerous sentiment. With an efibrt to shake off this unpleasant sensation, she resumed : " I might go further, and observe, that unless you yourself became thoroughly penetrated with the fact, you must always prove very unsuitable to the station you are destined to occupy in life. Do you understand me ?" "I believe I do, my Lady," was the calm reply. "And also," resumed she, still more dictatorially — "and also, that acquiring this knowledge by yourself will be less pamful to your i2 116 THE MAETINS 01' CEO' MAETIN. feelings than if impressed upon you Tjy others. Do you fully appre- hend me ?" " I think so, my Lady." Now, although the tone and manner of the young girl were unex- ceptionable in all that regards deference and respect, Lady Dorothea •was not a little provoked at her unbroken composure. There was no confusion, not even a semblance of constraint about her. She replied to even sarcastic questions without the faintest shadow of irritation, and exhibited throughout the most perfect quietude and good breeding. Had the ''young person" been overwhelmed with shame, or betr&yed into any access of temper, her Ladyship's manner would have presented a pattern of haughty dignity and gracefulness^ and her rebukes would have been delivered in a tone of queen-like superiority ; but Miss Henderson afforded no opportunity for these great qualities. She was deference itself : but deference so self-pos- sessed, so assured of its own safeground, as to be positively provoking. "Under all these circumstances, therefore," resumed Lady Do- rothea, as if having revolved mighty thoughts within her mind, " it appears to me you would not suit me." But even this speech failed to call up one trait of disappointment, and the young girl received it with only a deep curtsey. " I'm sorry for it," continued my Lady, " on your mother's accouat ; youir education has of -course cost her and your father many sacrifices, which your duty requires you to repay." She paused, as if asking for some assent to this speech. Another deep curtsey was the reply. " There, that will do," said Lady Dorothea, angrily • for any at- tempt to provoke seemed an utter failure. " I think I have nothing more to say. When I shall see your mother I can explain more fuUy to her. Good morning." " I wish your Ladyship good morning," said the girl, with a deep obeisance, and in a voice of perfect deference, while she retired to- wards the door. Before she had reached it, however, Lady Dorothea again addressed her : "Tou forgot, I thipk, to tell me, why you left the Duchesse de Luygnes?" " I left on the marriage of the Princess, my Lady." " Oh, I remember; she married a Russian, I think." " No, my Lady ; she married the Due de Mirecourt, French Ain- bassador at St. Petersburg." " Ah, to be sure. I knew there was something Eussian about it. And so they sent you away then ?" THE MAETIirS OF CEO' MAETHT. 117 " The Duchess most kindly invited me to accompany her, my Lady, but my father desired I should return to Irelaaid." " And very properly," said Lady Dorothea ; " he took a most just view of the case ; your position would only have exposed you to great perils. I'm sure you are not of my opinion, for, distrust of yourself does not appear one of your failings." — It is possible that this un- generous remark was evoked by a very slight curl of the young girl's lip, and which, faint as it was, did not escape her Ladyship's keen glances. — " Good morning." Again had Miss Henderson gained the door ; her hand was already on the lock, when her Ladyship called out : " In the event of any- thing occurring to me likely to suit you, I ought to know what you can teach ; and mind, don't bore me with a mere catalogue of hard names, but say what you really know." " Some modern languages, my Lady, with music.'' " No Greek or Latin?" said Lady Dorothea, half sneeringly. " Latin, perhaps ; but though I can read some Greek, I could not venture to teach it." "Nor Hebrew?" "No, my Lady." "And the modem tongues — ^which of them do you profess to know?" " French, Italian, Spanish, and German." "And don't you draw? — ^they showed me what they called ydurs." " Tes, my Lady, but I cannot teach drawing." "And of course you are thoroughly versed in history. Have you studied any scientific subjects ? — mathematics, for instance." " Only a few of the French initial books, my Lady." . . " Why, you are quite an Admirable Crichton for acquirement. I feel reaUy abashed to find myself in such company." But even this coarse speech failed to irritate, and Lady Dorothea walked angrily towards the window and looked out. It so chanced that, through an opening of the wood, she caught sight of a large assemblage of workpeople, w^ho, headed by Miss Martin on horseback, were on their way to the quarries ; and as she looked, a sudden thought flashed across her : " "Why not retain the •young person' as a companion for her niece? How admirably would all this girl's knowledge contrast with Mary's ignorance. What an unceasing source of disparagement would their contact afford at the very moment that the-arrangement might seem dictated by the very best and highest of motives." It may doubtless appear to many, that the individual who could 118 THE MAETINS OS CEO' MABTHT. reason ttus, must be animated hj a most corrupt and depraved nature, but unhappily the BpiteM element in the human heart is one which never measures its modes of attack, but suffers itself to he led on, from acts of mere petty maliee, to actions of downright base- ness and badness. Lady Dorothea was not devoid of good traits, but once involved in a pursuit, she totally forgot the object which originally suggested it, but engaged all her zeal and aE her ardour for success. She would have been shocked at the bare possibility of actually injuring her niece ; She would have resented with indignatitcn^ the mere mention of such.; but yet she would have eagerly grasped at whatever afforded a chance of dominating over her. Maiy's in- fluence in the household — her rule over the peasantry of the estate — was a perpetual source of annoyance to her Ladyship,, and yet she never knew how to thwart it, till now that chance seemed to offer this means. " Tou need not go back just yet : I'll speak with Mr. Martin about you," said she, turning towards Miss Henderson ; and, with a respect- ful curtsey, the girl withdrew, leaving her Ladyship to her own some- what complicated reflections. *■ Li less than half an hour after Lady Dorothea proceeded to Mr. Martin's study, where a cabinet council was held, the sub- stance of which our reader can readily conceive ; nor need he have any doubts as to the decision, when we say tlffl± Lady Dorothea retired to her own room with a look of satisfaetion so palpaUy dis- played, that Mademoiselle Hortense, her maad, remarked to herself, " Somebody or other was sure to pass a mawBoas quart d^heitre when Miladi goes to her room with an air of such triumphant meaning aa that." CHAPTER Xin. "a howsekeepeh's eoom." Ceo' Maetin was replete with every comfort and luEury. All itas arrangements betokened wealth ; not a single appliance of ease or enjoyment but was to be foimd within, its well-ordered walls ; and yet there was one want which seemed to mar all, and infuse a sense of almost dreary coldness over everything, and this was — the absence of a numerous family — the assemblage of various ages, which gives to a home Its peculiar interest, embodying the Itopes and fears, and pas- THE MAETINS OE CEO' MAETDT. 119 sions and motives of manliood, in every stage of existence, making up that little world within doors which emblematises the great one without ; but, with this singular advantage, of its being bound up in one holy sentiment of mutual love and affection. This charm is it which gives the whole vitality to home — this minghng of the temperaments of youth, and manhood, and deep age, blending hopes of the future with memories of the past, and making of every heart a portion of one hiunan biography, in which many are sharers. To the stranger, who came to see the house and its gorgeous decorations, all seemed suggestive of habitable enjoyment. The vast drawing-rooms appeared as if only waiting for a splendid com- pany ; the dark-wainscoted dining-room, with its noble fireplace of gigantic dimensions, looked the very scene where hospitable con- viviality might be enacted; the library, cabn, quiet, and secluded, seemed a spot wherein a stu^ait might have passed a lifelong. Even in the views, that presented themselves at the several windows, there was a certain appropriateness to the character of the room, and the same importunate question still arose to one's mind : Who is there to enjoy all this ? What words of glad welcome echo through this vaulted haU — ^what happy daughter sings through these gUded cham- bers — where is the social pleasantry that circles the blazing fire of the ample hearth ? Alas ! aH was sombre, splendid, and dreary. No, we are wrong! — ^not aU! There was one comer of this great house where cheerfulness was the very type of comfort. It was a small, and not lofty room, whose two windows projected beyond the walls, giving a wide view over the swelling landscape for miles of space. Here the furniture was of the most ordinary kind, but scrupulously neat and weU. kept. The chairs — ^there were but four of them — ^all with arms and deep cushions ; the walnut table a perfect mirror of polish ; the cloth curtains, that closed the windows and concealed the door, massive and heavy-folded, — all breathed of snugnesa; while the screen that surrounded the fire had other perfections than those of comfortable seclusion, containing a most strange colledaoa:of the caricatures of the time, and the period before the Union. It ja but necessary to add that this was Mrs. Eroon's apartment — ^the snug chamber where old Catty enjoyed herself, after the fatigues and duties of the day. Here now she sat at tea, beside a cheerful fire^ the hissing kettle on the hob harmonising pleasantly with the happy purring of an enormous cat, who sat winking .at the blaze ; and while evidently inconvenienced by the heat, lacking energy to retreat from it. Catty had just obtained the newspaper — as the Master had gone to dinner — and was reaUy about to enjoy a comfortable evening. 120 THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIIT. Far from devoid of social qualities, or a liking for companionsliip; she still lived almost entirely to herself, the other servants being chiefly English, whose habits and ways were all strange to her, and all whose associations were widely different from her own. Catty - Broon had thus obtained a reputation for unsociability which she by no means deserved, but to which, it must be owned, she was totally indifferent. In fact, if they deemed Tier morose and disagreeable ; she, in turn, held them still more cheaply, calling them a set of lazy devils that "were only in each other's way," and " half of them not worth their salt." Catty had also survived her generation ; all her friends of former years had either died or emigrated, and except two or three of the farm-servants, none of the " ould stock," as she called them, were in existence. This brief explanation will show that Catty's comparative isolation was not entirely a matter of choice. If a sense of loneliness did now and then cross her mind, she never suffered it to dwell there, but chased away the unpleasant thought by some active duty ; or if the season of that were over, by the amusing columns of the Intdli- gence — a journal which realised to Mrs. Broon's conceptions the very highest order of literary merit. Catty did not take much interest in politics ; she had a vague dreamy kind of notion that the game of party was a kind of disre- putable gambling, and Parliament itself little better than a " Hell," frequented by .very iiidifferent company. Indeed, she often said it would be " well for us if there was no politics, and mayie then, there would be no taxes either." The news she liked was the price of farm- ing stock at fairs and markets. What Mr. Hynes got for his " top lot" of hoggets, and what Tom Healey paid for the " finest heifers ever seen on the Fair-green." These, and the accidents — a deeply in- teresting column — ^were her peculiar tastes, and her memory was stored with every casualty, by sea, fire, and violence, that had graced the Intelligence for forty years back ; in truth, they formed the stations of her chronology, and she would refer to events as having occurred the same year that Joe Eyan was hanged, or " the very Christmas that Hogau fired at Captain Crossley." An inundation of great extent also figured in these memorabilia, and was constantly referred to, by her saying, " This or that happened the year after the Flood," suggesting a rather startling impression as to her longevity. On the evening we now refer to, the newspaper was more than com- monly adorned with these incidents. Public news having failed, private ■calamities were invoked to supply the place. Catty was, therefore, fortunate. There was something, too, not altogether unpleasant in THE MAETINS Or CEO' MAETIN. 121 the whistling storm that raged without; and the heavy plashing of the rain as it heat upon the window-panes. Without imputing to her,< as would he most unjust, the slightest touch of iU-nature, she felt a heightened sense of her own snugness as she drew closer to the bright hearth, while she read of " a dreaiful gale in the Bay of Biscay." It was just in the most exciting portion of .the description that her door was rudely opened, and the heavy curtain dashed aside with a daring hand; and Catty, startled by the sudden interruption, called angrily out : . " Who's there — ^who are ye, at all ?" " Can't you guess, Catty ?" cried out a pleasant voice. "Don't you know that there's only one in this house here, who'd dare to enter in such a fashion ?" " Oh, Miss Mary, is it you ? And, blessed Virgin, what a state ye're in," cried she, as she gazed at the young girl, who, throwing away her riding hat, wrung out the rain from her long and silky hair, while she laughed merrily at old Catty's dismayed countenance. " Why, where in the' world were you — what happened you, darlmg ?" said- Catty, as she assisted her to remove the dripping costume. " I was at the Wood, Catty, and up to the quarries, and round by Cronebawn, and then, seeing a storm gathering, I thought I'd turn homeward, but one of Kit Sullivan's children — my little godchild, you know — detained me to hear him recite some verses he had learned for my birthday ; and, what with one thing and another, it was pitch dark when I reached the ' New Cut,' and then, to my annoyance, I found the bridge had just been carried away — there. Catty, now for a pair of your own comfortable slippers — and, as I was saying to you, there was no bridge !" " The bridge gone !" exclaimed Catty, in horror. " All Tom Healey's fault. I told him that the arch had not span enough, and that the buttresses would never stand the first heavy fall of rain from the mountains, and there's not a vestige of them now!" " And what did you do ?" , " I rode for the Low Meadows, Catty, with all speed. I knew that the river, not being confined there between narrow banks, and spread- ing over a wide surface, couldn't be very deep. Nor was it. It never tovfched the girths but once, when we got into a hole ! But she is such a rare good beast, that little Sorrel ; ^she dashed through every- thing, and I don't think I took forty minutes from Kane's Mill to this door, though I never saw a spot of the road all the while, except when the lightning showed it. There now, like a good old dear, don't 122 THE MAETISrS 01' CEO' MAETIN. ■wring your hands and say, 'Blessed hour!' but just put some more tea in the teapot, and fetch me your brown loaf!" " But sarely you'U die of cold ! — ^you'U be in a fever !" " Nonsense, Catty; I hare been out in rain befote this. I'm more provoked about that bridge than all else. My excellent Aunt wiU have such a laugh at my engineering skiU, when she hears of it. Can't be helped, however. And so there's a dinner-party up stairs, I hear. Eanny told me there were three strangers." " So I hear. There's a lawyer from Dublin ; and a lady from I don't know where ; and Toung Nelligan, dd Dan's son. I'm sure I never thought I'd see the day he'd be eatiag his dinner at Gro' Martin." " And why not, Catty ? What is there in his manners and con- dufet that should not make him good company for any one here ?" " Isn't he the son of a little huckster in Oughterard ? Old Dan, that I remember, without a shoe to his foot !" " And is it a reproach to him that he has made a fortune by years of patient industry and toil ?" " In-dus-try ! toil ! indeed," said Catty, sneeriogly. " How much in-dus-try or toil there is, weighing out snuff and sugar, in a snug shop. Ayeh ! he's an old Mggar, the same Dan. I know him weH." "But that is no reason why you. should disparage his son, Cattyj who is a young gentleman of the highest ability and great promisev I never heard you speak so ungenerously before." " Well, well, darling, don't, look angry with your ould Catty, any- way. It isn't for the like of Dan Nelligan, or his. son either, you'd be cross with me!" " Never, Gatty, never — for anybody or anything," said tl\e young girl, taking her hand with both her own. " But you haven't told me who the lady is. How did she arrive, and when?" " I know nothing of her. Peter came to say that the blue bed- room was wanting to-night, and he wished to tor-mentr me into asking who for ? — but I wouldn't, just for that same ; and so I gave him the keys without a word." " I wonder if this note, that I found on my dressing-table, wiU explain anything," said Mary, as she proceeded to break the seal. " Of all the absurd ways of my Lady Aunt, she has not a more ridiculous one than this trick of writing little notes, instead of speaking. She sees me every day, and might surely say whatever she wanted to say, without embalming it in a despatch. This, I perceive, is number four hundred and seveirty-six,. and I presume THE MAETINS OP OBO' KAETIIT. 123 she's correct in the score. Only think, Catty — ^four hundred little epistles like this !" And with these words she carelessly luofolded the letter and began to read it. All her iadiffereac© of manner, however, soon gave way to an e"xpression of considerable eagerness, and she had no sooner finished the epistle than she recommenced and re-read it. '' Tou'd never guess what tidings this brings me. Catty," said she, laying down the paper, and looking with an expression half sad, half comical. " Maybe I might then," said Catty, shaking her head knowingly. " Come, out with your guess, then, old lady, and I promise to venerate your wisdom ever after if you be right — that is, if nobody has abeady given you a hint on the subject." " !N"ot one in the world," said Catty, solemnly ; " I pledge you my word and faith I never heard a syllable about it." " About it ! about what ?" "About what's in the letter there," said Catty, stoutly. "Ton are therefore quite certain that you know it," said Mary, smiling, "so now let's have your interpretation." "It's a proposial," said Catty, with a slight wijik. "A what?" " A proposial — of marriage, I mean." But before the words were out, Mary burst into a fit of langhterj so hearty, and with such good-wiU, that poor Catty felt perfectly ashamed of herself. " My dear Catty," said she, at length, " you must have been read- ing Pairy Tales this morning ; nothing short of such bright literature could have fiUed your mind vrith these imaginings. The object of the note is, I assure you, of a quite different kind ;" and here she ran her eye once more over the epistle. " Yes," continued she, " it is written in my dear Aunt's own peculiar style, and begins with a ' declara- tory clause,' as I think Mr. Scanlan would call it, expressive of my lamentably neglected education, and then proceeds to the appropriate remedy, by teUiag me that I am to have a Governess !" "A what !". cried Catty, in angry amazement. "A Governess, Catty — not a governor, as yon suspected." " Ayeh, ayeh!" cried the old woman, ringing her hands ; " what's this for ? Don't you know how to govern yourself by this time ? And what can they teach you that you don't understand already ?" " Ah, my dear Catty," said the young girl, sadly, " it is a sad sub- ject you would open there, — one that I have wept over many a dreanr 124 THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIN. hour ! No one knows — no one even could guess — ^how deeply I have deplored my illiterate condition. Ifor was it," added she, ardently, "till I had fashioned out a kind of existence of my own — active, useful, and energetic — that I could bury the thought of my utter want of education. Not even you. Catty, could fathom all the tears this theme has cost me, nor with what a sinking of the heart I have thought over my actual unfitness for my station." " Arrah, don't provoke me ! don't drive me mad !" cried the old woman, in real anger. " There never was one yet as fit for the highest place as yourself; and it isn't me alone that says it, but hundreds of " " Hundreds of dear, kind, loving hearts," broke in Mary, " that would measure my poor capacity by my wiU to serve them. But, no matter, Catty ; I'll not try to undeceive them. They shall think of me with every help their own afiection may lend them, and I will not love them less for the over-estimate." As she spoke these words, she buried her face between her hands ; but the quick heaving of her chest showed how deep was her emotion. The old woman respected her sorrow too deeply to inter- rupt her, and for several minutes not a word was spoken on either side. At last, Mary raised her head, and throwing back the long, loose hair, which in heavy masses shaded her face, said with a fltm and resolute voice : " I'd have courage to go to school to-morrow, Catty, and begin as a mere child to learn, if I knew that another was ready to take my place here. But who is to look after these poor people, who are accustomed now to see me amongst them, on the mountains, in the fields, at their firesides ? — who gain new spirit for labour when I ride down in the midst of them, and look up, cheered, by seeing me, even from a sick-bed. Her Ladyship would say, Mr. Henderson could do all this far better than myself." " Mr. Henderson, indeed !" exclaimed Catty, indignantly ; " the smooth-tongued old rogue !" ' " And perhaps he might, in England," resumed Mary ; " but not here, Catty — not here ! "We care less for benefits than the source from which they spring. We Irish cherish the love of motives as well as actions ; and, above all, we cherish the links that bind the lowliest in the land with the highest, and make both better by the union." She poured out these words with rapid impetuosity, rather talking to herself than addressing her companion : then, suddenly changing her tone, she added : THE MAETINS OP CEO' MAETIIT. 125 " Besides, ,Catty, tlipy are used to me, and I to" iAcw. A new face and a new voice would not bring the same comfort to' them." " Never, never," muttered the old woman to herself. " And I'll not desert them." " That you won't, darling," said the old woman, kissing her hand passionately, while tears swam in her eyes, and trickled down her cheeks. " There is but one thought, Catty, that makes me at all faint- hearted about this, and whenever it crosses me I do feel very low and depressed." She paused, and then murmured the words, " My father !" " Tour father, my darling ! What about Tiim ?" " It is thinking, Catty, of his return ; an event that ought to be — and would be, too — the very happiest of my life ; a day, for whose coming I never sleep without a prayer ; and yet, even this bright prospect has its dark side, when I recal all my own deficiencies, and how different he will find his daughter from what he had expected her." " May the blessed Saints grant me patience !" cried Catty, break- ing in. " Isn't it too bad to hear you talking this way ? Sure, don't I know Master Barry well ? Didn't I nurse him ; and wasn't I aU as one as his own mother to him ? and don't I know that you are his own born image ? 'Tis himself and no other ye are every minute of the day." " And even that, Catty," said Mary, smiling, " might fail to satisfy him. It is something very different indeed he might have imagined his daughter. I'm sure nobody can be more ignorant than I am, of what a person in my station, ought to know. I cannot hide this from myself in my sSd moments. I do not try to do so, but I have always relied upon the consolation that, to an existence such as mine is like to be, these deficiencies do not bring the same sense of shame, the same painful consciousness of inferiority, as if I were to mingle vyith the world of my equals. But if he were to come back — he, who has seen society in every shape and fashion — and find me the poor, unlettered, imread, untaught thing I am, unable to foUow his very descriptions of far-away lands without confusion and mistake ; unable to benefit by his reflections from very want of previous know- ledge — oh. Catty, dearest, what a miserable thing is self-love after all, when it should thus thrust itself into the foreground, where very different affections alone should have the place." " He'd love you like his own heart," said Catty. " Nobody knows 126 THE MAETINS 01' CEO' MAETIB". him like me ; and if tliere was ever one made for him to dote on, it's your own self." " Do you indeed think so ?" cried Mary, eagerly. " Do I know it — could I swear it ?" said] Catty. " He was never much given to study himself, except it was books of travel like ' Eobinson Crusoe,' and the Hlie ; and then, after reading one of them books he'd be off for days together, and we'd be looking for him over the whole country, and maybe find him in the middle of Kyle's "Wood up a tree ; or once, indeed, it was in the island of Letfcer- mullen we got him. He built a mud-house, and was living there with a goat and two rabbits that he reared himself, and if he wasn't miserable when they brought him away home ! I remember his words well — ' Maybe,' says he, ' the time will come that I'll go where you can't come after me ;' and ye see that's what he's done, for nobody knows where he wasn't wandering' these last eight or nine years." When Catty got upon this theme she could not be brought to quit it — nor, indeed, did Ma^ try — for though she had heard these stories of her father's boyiSh days over and over again, she never wearied^ of them ; they had aU the fascination of romance for her, with the stronger interest that grew out of her love for one who, she was told, had so loved herself. Besides this, she felt in her own heart the same promptings to a life of action and adventure. AU. the incidents and accidents of an eventful existence were the veiy things to delight her, and one of her happiest day-dreams was to fancy herself her father's companion in his wanderings by flood and field. And thus they sat tUl a late hour of the night talking and listen- ing, old Catty answering each inquiry of the young girl by some anecdote or trait of him she stiil persisted in calling " Master Barry," tiU, in the ardour of listening, Mary herself caught up the phrase, and so designated her own father. " How unlike my Uncle in everything !" exclaimed Mary, as she reflected over some traits the old woman had just recorded. " And were they not very fond of 'each other ?" " That they were : at least, I can answer for Master Barry's love ; and to be sure, if having a reason was worth anything, your Uncle ought to love him'more than one man ever did another." Old Catty uttered these words with a slow and almost muttering accent ; they seemed as if the expression of a thought delivered involuntarily — almost unconsciously. Mary was attracted by the unwonted solemnity of her accent, but s];ill more by an expression of intense meaning which gathered over THE MAETDTS OF CEO' MAETIN. 127 tbe old woman's brows and forehead. "Ay, ay," muttered she still to herself, " there's few brothers would do it. Maybe there's not another living but himself would haye done it." "And what was it, Catty ?" asked Mary, boldly. " Eh !— what was I saying, darling?" said Catty, rousing herself to full consciousness. " Tou were telling of my father, and some great proof of aflfection he gave my Uncle." " To be sure he did," said the old woman, hastily. " They wete always fond of each other, as brothers ought to be." " But this one particular instance of love — what was it. Catty ?" The old woman started, and looked eagerly around the room, as though to assure herself that they were alone ; then, drawing ^her chair close to Mary's, she said, in a low voice, " Don't ask me any more about them things, darhng. 'Tis past and gone many a year now, and I'd rather never think of it more, for I've a heavy heart after it." " So, then, it is a secret. Catty ?" said Mary, half proudly. " A secret, indeed," said Catty, shaking her head mournfully. " Then you need only to have said so, and I'd not have importuned you to tell it ; for, to say truth. Catty, I never knew you had any secrets from me." " If or have I another, except this, darling," said Catty ; and she buried her face within her hands. And now both sat in silence for some minutes — a most painful silence to each. At last Mary arose, and, although evidently trying to overcome it, a feeling of constraint was marked in her features. " Tou'd never guess how late it is, Catty," said she, trying to change the current of her thoughts. " Tou'd not believe it is past three o'clock ; how pleasantly we must have talked, to forget time in this way." But the old woman made no reply, and it was clear that she had never heard the words, so deeply was she sunk in her own reflections. " This poor hat of mine vrill scarcely do another day's service," said Mary, as she looked at it half laughingly. " Nor is my habit the fresher of its bath in the ' Eed Eiver ;' and the worst of it is. Catty, I have overdrawn my quarter's allowance, and must live on, in rags, tiU Easter. I see, old lady, you have no sympathies to waste on me and my calamities this evening," added she, gaily, " and so I'U just go to bed and, if I can, dream pleasantly." " Eags, indeed," said Catty. "It's well it becomes you to wear rags !" and her eyes sparkled with indignant passion. " Faith, if it 128 XHB MAETIITS OP CBO' ifABTIK. comes to that" — here she suddenly paused, and a pale hue spread over her features like a qualm of faintish siciness — " may the. Holy Mother give me help and advice, for sometimes I'm nigh forgetting myself!" " My dear ol^ Catty," said Mary, fondly, " don't fret about me and my foolish speech. I only said it in jest. I have everything—: far more than I want — a thousand times more than I desire. And my excellent Aunt never said a truer thing in her life, than when she declared that ' everybody spoilt ■ me;' Ifow, good night." And kissing the old woman affectionately, Mary gathered up the stray fragments of her riding gear, and hurried away, her merry voice heard cheerfully as she wended her way up many a stair and gallery to her own chamber. If Mary Martin's, character had any one quality pre-eminently remarkable, it was the absence of everything like distrust and suspi- cion. Fr^kness and candour itself in all her dealings, she never condescended to impute secret motives to another; and the very thought of anything like mystery was absolutely repugnant to her nature. Por the very first time in her life, then, she left old Catty Broon with; a kind of uneasy, dissatisfied impression. There was a secret, and she was somehow or other concerned in it ; so much was clear. How could she convince the old woman that no revelation, however -disagreeable in itself, could be as torturing as a doubt? " Can there be anything in my position or circumstances here that I am not aware of? Is there a mystery about me in any way?" The very imagination of such a thing was agony. In vain she laded to chase away the unwelcome thought, by singing as she went, by thinki&g over plans for the morrow, by noting down, as she did.each night, some stray records of the past day; still Catty's agitatedface and strange emotion rose before her, and would not sv^er her to be at rest. To a day of great excitement and fatigue now succeeded a sleepless, feverish night,, and morning broke on her unrefreshed, and even ill. THE lIAETIirs OF CEO' MABTIN. 129 CHAPTEE XIV. A FINE OLD IBISH BAHEISTEB. Can any one tell us what has become of that high, conversational power for which Ireland, but more especially Dublin, was once cele- brated ? Have the brilliant talkers of other days left no successors ? Has that race of delightful convivialists gone and disappeared for ever ? Or are we only enduring an interregnum of dulness, the fit repose, perhaps, after a period of such excitement? The altered circumstances of the country will doubtless account for much of this change. The presence of a Parliament in Ireland imparted a dignity and importance to society, while it secured to social intercourse the men who made that Senate illustrious. The Bar, too, of former days was essentially the career of the highest class, of those who had the ambition of political success, without the necessity of toiling for it through the laborious paths of the law, and thus the wit, the brilliancy, and the readiness which gives conversation its charm, obtained the high culture which comes of a learned profession, and the social in- tercourse with men of refined understanding. ' With the Union this spirit died out. Some of the brightest and gayest retired from the world, sad, dispirited, and depressed ; some felt that a new and very different career was to open before them, and addressed themselves to the task of conforming to new habits and acquiring new influences ; and others, again, sought in the richer and greater country the rewards which they once were satisfied to reap in their own. With the Union, Society, in Dublin — ^using the word in its really comprehensive sense — ceased to exist. The great interests of a nation departed, men sank to the level of the small topics that engaged them, and gradually the smallest and narrowest views of mere local matters usurped the place of great events and liberal speculations. Towards the end of the first quarter of the present century, a few of those who had once made companion^p with Curran, and Grattan, and Lysaght, and Parsons, were stiU in good health and vigour. A fine, high-hearted, manly class they were, full of that peculiar generosity of character which has ever marked the true Irish gentleman, and with a readiness in humour and a genial flow of pleasantry which rendered their society delightful. Of this school — and probably the last, for he was then the 130 THE MAHimS OF OBo' MAEIIS. Father of the Bar — was Yalentiae Eepton, a man whose abilities might have won for him the very highest distinctions, hut who, partly through indolence, and partly through a sturdy desire to be inde- pendent of all party, had all his life rejected every offer of advance- ment, and had seen his juniors pass on to the highest ranks of the profession, while he stiE wore his stuff-gown, and rose to address the Court from the outer benches. He was reported in early life to have professed very democratic opinions, for which he more than once had incurred the deep dis- pleasure of the authorities of the University. The prindples. of the French Eevolution had, however, been gradually toned down in him by time, and probably by a very aristocratic contempt for the party who -advocated them ; so that soon after he entered on his career at the Bar he seemed to have abandoned polities, nor, except by a sly jest or an epigram upon a party leader, no matter of which side, did he ever advert to the contests of etateeraft. Though closely approaching seventy, he was hale and vigorous, his grey eyes quick, and full of fire, his voice clear, and Ms whole air and bearing that of one many years younger. He ha4 been a "Beau" in his youth, and there was in the accurately-powdered hair, the lace ruffles in which he still appeared at dinner, and the well-fitting ailk stocking, an evidence that he had not forgotten the attractions of dress. ' At the Bar he still maintained the veryihigheBt place. His powers of eroas-e3;amination were very great ; Ma management of a Jury unrivalled. A lifelong acquaintance with Dublin had famUiamed him with the tone and temper of every class of its ciiizens, iand had taught him the precise kind of argument, and the exact nature of the appeal, to address to each. As he grew older, perhaps he did not observe all his wonted discretion in the use of this subtle power, and somewhat presumed upon his own slsjll. Nor was he so scrupulous in his deference to the Cojirt — & feature which had once pre-eminently distinguished him — but upon the whole he had kept wonderfully clear of the proverbial irritability of age, aad was, without an exception, the lEavourfte amongst .his brethren. The only touch of years observable about his mind was, a fondness for recurring to incidents or events in which he himself had borne a part. A case in which he held a brie:f^the dinner at wMeJi he had been brilliant — the epigram he had dashed off in Lady Somebody's drawing-room — were bright spots he could not refrain from adverting to ; but, generally speaking, he had skill enough to iDJiEodia.ce these without any seeming effort, or any straining, .aoid thus, strangers, at THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIN. 131 least, were in wonderment at his endless stores of anecdote and iUus- -bration. No man better than he knew iow to throw a great name into the course of a conversation, and make an audience for himself, by saying, " I remember one day at the Priory with Cvurran- " or, " We were dining with poor Grattan at Tinnehineh, when " "As Mood once remarked to me -" and so on. The flattery of being addressed by one wio had stood in such inti- mate relation to those illustrious men never failed of success. , The most thoughtless and giddy hearers were at once aarested by such an opening, and Eepton was sure of listeners in every company. The man who finds his place in every society is unquestionably a clever man. The aptitude to chime in with the tone of others infers a high order of humour^- of humour in its real sense — meaning thereby the faculty of appreciating, and even cultivating, the, indi- vidual pecuHaritiea of those auouiul him, and deriving &om their dis- play a high order of pleasure. From these scattered traits let my reader conjure up Valentine Eepton before him, and imagine the bustling, active, and brisk- looking old gentleman, whose fidgetiness nearly drove Martin mad, as tfeey held converse together in the Library after breakfast. Now seated, now, rising to pace the room, or drawing nigh the window to curse the peltering rain without, £.epton seemed the incarnation of uneasiness. "Very splendid-^very grand — very sumptuous — no doubt," said he, ranging his eyes over the gorgeous .decorations of the spacious apartment, " but would Idll me in a month ; what am I saying ? — in a week !" " What would kill you, Eepton ?" said Martin, languidly. " This life of yours, Martin — this sombre quiet — this unbroken -stiUiiess — this grave-like monotony. Why, man, where's your neigh- bourhood — where are your gentry friends ?" " Cosby Blake, of Swainestown, is abroad," said Martin, with an indolent drawl. " Eandal Burke seldom . comes dosrai here now. Eickman,' I believe, is in the Pleet. They were the jiearest to us I" " What a country ! and you are spending ^What did you tell me last night — ^was it upwards of ten thousand a year, here P" " What with planting, draining, bridging, reclaiming waste lands, and other improvements, the wages of last year alone exceeded seven thousand!" "By Jove! its nigh incredible," said the Lawyer, energetically. " My dear Martin, can't you perceive that aU this is sheer w»8te — k2 132 THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIN. SO much good money actually thrown into Lough Comb ? Tell me, frankly, how long have you been pursuing this system of improve- ment ?" " About three years ; uuder Mary's management." " And the results — what of them ?" "It is too early to speak of that ; there's Kyle's "Wood, for instance — we have enclosed that at considerable cost. Of course we can't expect that the mere thinnings can repay us, the first year or two." " And your reclaimed land — ^how has it prospered ?" " Ifot over well. They pushed draining so far, that they've left:a •large tract perfectly barren and unproductive." " And the harbour — the pier I saw yesterday ?" " That's a bad business — its filling up the bay with sand ! but we'll alter it'in summer." '" And now for the people themselves — are they better off, better fed, clothed, housed, and looked after, than before ?" " Mary says so. She tells me that there is a wonderful change for the better in them." " I don't believe a word of it, Martin — not a word of it. Ireland is not to be redeemed by her own gentry. The thing is sheer impos- sibility ! They both know each other too well. Do you understand me ? They are too ready to make allowances for short-comings that have their source in some national prejudice. Whereas your Saxon •or your Scotchman would scout such a plea at once. Ireland wants an alterative, Martin — an alterative ; and, amidst our other anomalies, not the least singular is the fact, that the Englishman, who knows nothing about us, nor ever will know anything, is precisely the man to better our condition." "These are strange opinions to hear from your lips, Eepton. I never heard any man so sarcastic as yourself on English ignorance regarding Ireland." " And you may hear me again on the same theme whenever you vouchsafe me an audience," said the Lawyer, sharply. "It was but the other day I gave our newly-arrived Secretary, Mr. Muspratt, a gentle intimation of my sentiments on that score. We were dining at the Lodge. I sat next his Excellency, who, in the course of dinner, directed my attention to a very graphic picture the Secretary was drawing of the misery he had witnessed that very day, coming up from Carlow. He did the thing well, I must own. He gave the famished looks, the rags, the wretchedness, all their due ; and he mingled his pathos and indignation with all the skill of an artist ; while he actually imparted a Eaffaelle effect to his sketch, as he per- THE MAETiNS Or OEO' MABTIlir. 133 trayed the halt, the maimed, the blind, and the palsied that crowded around the carriage as he changed horses, exclaiming, by way of peroration, ' Misery and destitution like this no man ever witnessed before, all real and unfeigned as it was sure to be.' "'Naas is a miserable place, indeed,' said I, for he looked directly towards me for a confirmation of his narrative. ' There is no denying one word the gentleman has said. I came up that way from circuit three weeks ago, and was beset in the same spot, and in the same manner as we have just heard. I can't attempt such a- description as Mr. Muspratt has given us, but I will say, that there was not a human deformity or defect that didn't appear to have its representative in that ragged gathering, all clamorous and eager for aid. I looked at them for a while in wonderment, and at last I threw out a "tenpenny" in the midst. The "blind" fellow saw it first, but the " lame cripple" had the foot of him, and got the money !' " Eepton leaned back in his chair, and laughed heartily as he finished. " I only wish you saw his face, Martin ; and, indeed, his Excellency's too. The Aides-de-Camp laughed ; they were very young, and couldji't help it." " He'U not make you a Chief Justice, Eepton," said Martin, slily. " I'll take care he don't," said the other. "Summtimjus summa injwria. - The Chief Justice is a great humbug, or a great abuse, whichever way you like to render it." "And yet they'd be glad to promote you," said Martin, thought- fully. " To be sure they would. Sir ; delighted to place me where they had no fear of my indiscretions. But your Judge should be ever a grave animal. The temptation to a joke should never sit on the ermine. As Mood once remarked to me of old Somney : ' A man, Sir,' said he — and Plood had a semi-sarcastic solemnity always about him — ' a man. Sir, who has reversed the Law of Physics; for he rose by his' gravity, and only feU by his lightness.' Very epigrammatic and sharp, that. Ah ! Martin, they don't say these things now-a-days.' By the way, who is the young fellow who dined with us yesterday ?" "His name is Nelligan; the son of one of our Oughterard neighbours." " Pleasing manners, gentle, too, and observant," said E«pton, with the tone of one delivering a judgment to be recorded. " He's more than that," said Martin; " he is the great prize man of the year in Trinity. Tou must have surely heard of his name up in town." " I think somebody did speak of him to me — ^recommend him, in 131 THE MAETIirS OT OBO' MAETIW. sSffl!© simapff or' other," saitd Eepton, abstraetedly — "these tMiigs. aJe Efo easily forgotten: ; for, to say the truths I bolide' very chieajdyr aB ittrtdlectnal efforts accomplished by great preparation^ Tk©- cramming, the grindiing, th® plodding, the artifieial miewory woj&j and the rest of; it,, detract terribly, in my estimation, from th® glrory of success. Gtire me • your man ofi impromptu readiness, never un- prepar^i,' nerer at a loss. The very conseifousness ot power is. double power." And as he spakei W drew himself up, threw has head baek,. afidisfasredisteadifasitly at Martin, asi though to say : " Siich ishe wh© now statmds before you/' Martin was smused at the display of vaniity/ ^ttd had there been.. another them to- hare participated in the enjoyment, would basm- williugly encouraged Mm to continue the theme; but hewasalonef, ^a!*-leit-it!pas».- " I'lrinatee' a^itote of that yoimg man; MHlKgan, isn'i it ?" «miligamj'» " lib be- sure. I'll renerember poor" Currant's epigram : Oh; pttjr^jioor Tbm Helligan 1 Who walking down Pall Mall, He sUpt his foot; And down he fellv. And ieoBs he. won't get welLagainb Glorious fellow. Sir; the greatest, of all the> conviviaiists of hi^time Tvas^Cnrran. A host in himself; but, as he once said,i you couldn't always depend on the ' elevation.' " MaB?tia smiled faiatly; he relished the lawyer's talk, but- he felt tfamt it dentanded an amo I. thiab?^' "I&aee every thing^ and evetybody,' Sir;, and with my own eyes, too. Aa Lyssigbtisaid, when:^I read the iBi^k of Kature, ' I M no man niote riy brief for me.' " "I thonght' of brang' your companion, myself"; ^®t somehow^ this morning, my old enemy, the gout, is busy again ; howeveff , you'll nat regret th* exchange, Beptomy when I give you in eharga to my niece. She'll be but too happy to do- the honours of our poor country to so distin^uiished; a visitor;" "Andavery artful plan to pixtmein good'.hiumourwtth.ereiy- thing," said Eepton, laughing. " Well, I consent. I offer myself a THE MA.ETINS OF CEO' MAETIIT. 135 wilEngh victim to amy amonnt of seduction. How are we to go f— do we drivej walk, or ridie ?" "If Mary be consulted, she'll saj ride," said Martin,; " but per- haps— —'-'^ " I'm for the saddle, too," broke in Eeptom. " Give me something active and lively, %ht of mouth and wdi up before, and I'll show yoti, as Tom Eftrsons said, thafc we can cut as goodi a figure at the wall aa the ' Bar.' " " I'll go and. consult my niece, then," said. Martin, hastening out of the room, to conceal the smile which the old. mam's vaaiity had just provokedj Mary wasi dressed in her riding-habit, and about to. leave her room as her uncle eirteued it. "I have just conaie in the nick of tinte, MoUy, I see," cried- he. "1 want you to lionise an old friend of mine, who has the ambition to ' do' Connemara under your guidaace." "What a. provoke," said Mary, half aloud, "Could he not wait for anotheir day, Uncle ? I- have to go over to G-lencalgber and Kilduff; besides, there's that bridge to he looked, after, and they Ve just come to tell, me: that the floods have carried away the strong paling around the larch copse. Eeally, this old gentleman must wait." It was a rare thing for Mary Martin to display anything either of impatience or opposition to her uncle. Her affection for himi was so blended with xespect, that she scaicelfy ever transgressed in this wise; but this morning she was ill and irritable — a. restless, feverish night foUowiug on a day of great fatigue and as great, excdte^ meat — and she was stilL suffering, and her nerves jaxring when, he met her. " But I assure you, Molly, you'U be pleased with the . compsnioiu. ship^" begaa.Martin. " So I might at. another time ; but I'm out of sorts to-day,' Fnde. I'm cross and ill-tempered, and I'll.have it out on Mr. Henderson — that precious specimen of his dassw Let Mr. Nelligan. pezfonn Cicerone, or persuade my Lady tO' drive him out ; — do.anytUng you like with him, except give him to me." ^ "And yet. that is exactly what I have promised him.. As. for NeUigan, they are not. suited to.each othesc; so,eome, bea good girl, and^eioinply." " If r must," said she, pettishly-—" And how are we to go ?" " He proposes to ride, and bespeaks something lively for hiaown mount." "Indeed! That sounds weU!" cried ^^ with, more aniiDation. 136 XHE MAETINS OF CEO' MABTITT. ".There's ' Croppesr' in great heart ; he'll carry him to perfection. I'U have a ring-snaffle put on him, and my word for it but he'll have a pleasant ride." " Take care, Molly — take care that he's not too fresh. Eemember that Repton is some dozen years or more my senior." " Let him keep him off the grass, and he'll go like a lamb. I'U not answer for him on the sward, though ; but I'U loot to him. Uncle, and bring him back safe and sound." And so saying, Mary bounded away down the stairs and away to the stables, forgetting everything of her late discontent, and only eager on the plan before her. Martin was very far from satisfied about the arrangement for his friend's equitation ; nor did the aspect of Eepton himself, as attired for the road, allay that sense of alarm — the old lawyer's costume being a correct copy of the coloured prints of those worthies who figured in the early years of G-eorge the Third's reign — a grey cloth spencer being drawn over his coat, fur-collared and cuffed, high riding-Jjoots of black polished leather, reaching above the knee, and large gauntlets of bright-yellow doeskin, completing an equipment which Martin had seen nothing resembling for forty ye'ars back.. "A perfect cavalier, Eepton!" exclaimed he, smiling. " We once could do a little that way," said the other, with a touch of vanity. " In our early days, Martin, hunting was essentially a gentleman's pastime. The meet was not disfigured by aspiring linen- drapers or ambitious hardwaremen, and the' tone of the field was the ione of society ; but, nous avons change tout cela. Sporting men, as they call themselves, have descended to the groom vocabulary, and the groom morals, and we, of the old school, should only be laughed at for the pedantry of good manners, and good English, did we ven- ture amongst them." " My niece will put a different estimate on your companionship ; and here she comes. Molly, my old and valued friend, Mr. Eepton." "I kiss your hand. Miss Martin," said he, accompanying the speech by the act, with all the grace of a courtier. " It's worth while being an old fellow, to be able to claim these antiquated privileges." There was something in the jaunty air and well-assumed gallantry of the old lawyer which at once pleased Mary, who accepted his courtesy with a gracious smile. She had been picturing to herself a very different kind of companion, and was well satisfied with the reality. " I proposed to young Mr. Nelligan to join us," said Eepton, as Le conducted her to the door; " but it seems he is too deeply intent THE MABTlNS OF CEO' MAHTIN. 137 upon some question, or point of law, or history, I forget which, whereupon we differed last night, and has gone into the library to search for the solution of it. As for me. Miss Martin, I am too young for such dry labours ; or, as the Due de Nevers said, when somebody rebuked him for dancing at seventy, ' Only think what a short time is left me for folly.' " We do not propose to chronicle the subjects or the sayings by which the old lawyer beguiled the way ; enough if we say that Mary was actually delighted with his companionship. The racy admixture of humour, and strong common sense, aqute views of life, flavoured with, now, a witty remark, now, a pertinent anecdote, were conversa- tional powers totally new to her. / Nov was he less charmed with her. Independently of all the pleasure it gave him to find one who heard him with such true enjoyment, and relished all his varied powers of amusing, he was equally struck with the high-spirited enthusiasm and generous ardour of the young girl. She spoke of the people and the country with all the devotion of one who loved both ; and if at times with more of hopefulness than he himself could feel, the san- guine forecastTbut lent another charm to her fascination. He listened with astonishment as she explained to him the different works then in progress — the vast plans for drainage — the great en- closures for planting — the roads projected, here, the bridges, there. At one place were strings of carts, conveying limestone for admixture with the colder soil of low grounds ; at another they met asses, loaded with seaweed for the potatp land. There was movement and occu- pation on every side. In the deep valleys, on the mountains, in the clefts of the rocky shore, in the dark marble quarries, hundreds of people were employed ; and by these was Mary welcomed vrith eager enthusiasm the moment she appeared. One glance at their delighted features was sufficient to show that theirs was no counterfeit joy. Wherever she went the same reception awaited her ; nor did she try to conceal the happiness it conferred. " This is very wonderful, very strange, and very fascinating. Miss Martin," said Kepton, as they moved slowly through a rocky path, escarped from the side of the mountain ; " but, pardon me, if I ven- ture to suggest one gloomy anticipation in the midst of such bright- ness. What is to become of all these people when yo« leave them — as leave them you will, and must, one day ?" " I never mean to do so," said Mary, resolutely.' "Stoutly spoken," said he, smiliug; "but, unfortunately, he. who hears it could be your grandfather. And again I ask, how is this good despotism to be carried on when the despot abdicates ? JSaj, 138 THE MAKTIirS OF CEO' MAETIIT. naffji there never waa a very beautiful' girl yet, with every eliai!Ht umder: heaven, wh® didn't swear she'd never marry; so let us take aaother alternative. Tour uncle may go to live in London — abroad. He may sell Cro' Martin " " Oh ! tliat is impossible. He loves the old home of his family,' and his name, too dearly ; he would be incapable of such a treasorrto his; house!" " 'Now, remiemiljer; my desw young lacty, yoa are speaking- ta the mtisfc sMspectful, uaiimpiilsive, and imgenierously-disposed of all n»- toices, an old lawyer, who has witnessed so many events in liffe< he would ha»e once pronounced impossible — ay, just as roundly as yott said the word yourself — and seen people, and things>' under aspects sffl'tofcally the reverse of what he firat^knew them, that he has taa^M himseikf to believe that change is the law, and not permaneoee, inr this life, and that you, aiud I, and all of us, ought ever to look forward to anything, everything, but the condition in which at present -we find ourselves'. Now, I don't want to discourage you with the noble career you have opened for yourself here ; I am far more likely to be fascinated — I was going to say faU in kfve^-with you for it, thaicta try and turn your thoughts elsewhere ; but as to these- people them- selves the experiment comes too late/' "Is it ever too late to repair a wrong, to assist destitution, reliero nmsty, and console misfortune ?" broke in Mary, eagerly;- " It is- too late to try the feudal system in the yea* of our Lord 1829^ Miss Martin. We live in an age where everything is to here- dressed by a Parliament. The old social compact between Proprietor and Peasant is; repealed, and all must be done by "the Housse." Kow, if your gran«6fath-eiF had pursued th& path that you are doing to-day, this crisis might never hmre arrived ; but he did not, young lady. He lived like a real gentleman; he hunted, and drank^ and feasted^ dmd rack-rented, and horsewhipped all around him; and what with duelling of a morning and drinking over-nighty taught th©' people a code of morals that has assumed all the eompactness ef ' a syatem; Ay, I say it with grief, this is a land corrupted from the top, and every vice, of its gentry has but filtered down to its popoi' lace 1 "What was that' I heard ? — was it not a shotp' caried he, reining in hrs' horse to listen. "I thought so too; but.it might be a blast, for we are not fjaif from the quarries." " And do you preserve the game, Miss Martin ? — are you sworn foe *o the poacher ?" "I do so ; but in reality more for the sake of the people tban^Ae THE MABTINB OE CE0? MAB.TIK. 139 ' psartcidges. Your lounging country feHffvr, witli a -rusty gnu and a starreddurcber, ia but an embryo higbwayman." " So iee is," eried . Eepton, deligbted at? the energy -witb whiefa sbe spoke ; " and I have always tbougbt that the worst thing about tbe- game-lawa was- tbe class of iellows we educated to break them. Boor old Cranbaigr wasn't of that opinion, though, Tou could never have seen hiiB, MiSS' Martin; but he- was a fine -apeeimea. of tbe Irigh, Bench in the old time. He was the readiest pistol in tbe Irish bouse ; and, as they said then, h& "shot up" into pre£ermemtL He always- deemed an infraction of the game-kws as one of the'giavest: crimes in the statute. Juries, however, didn't concur vritb him, and, knowing tbei sererity of tbe pemali^, they invariably brought, in a verdict of Nat QuiMy, rather than sabjeefi a poor wretch to transportation for a jack-snipe. I remember once — ^it was at Maryborough t the fellow in. the dock was a QotaMe poacher, and, worse still, tbe scene of his ex- ploits was Cranbury's own estate. As usual, the jury listened apaBtketi!- caHy to the evidence; they eared-little for tbe case, and had predeter- mined the verdict. It was, however, so palpably proven^ so self-evident that he was guilty, that they clubbed their heads' together to concert a pretest for their decision. Cranbury saw tbe movement,- and. appreciated it, and^ leaning bis head down upon bis hand,, mumbled out, as if talking to himself, in broken sentences, ' A poor man — ^witb a large famity— great temptation — and, after ail, a slight offence — a very slight offence.' The jury listened and took courage; tbe^ fancied some scruples were at work in the -old judge's beatrt,, aitd that they migbt venture on tbe tnitb, innocuously. ' Guilty, my Lord,' said tbe. Foiemwn, ' CCraB^wurtatioB for sevKn years!' cried tbe Judge, with a look at the jury-box that there was no mistaking. They were ' dome,' but there never was another convictiom.' in that to'Vra. afterwards." "And were sneb things possible on the jastice-seat"?" exclaimed Mary, in horror.' " Ah ! my dear yiraBg lady, I could tell you of far worse tbsn that. There was a time in this country when the indictment against' tbe prisoner' was seeoBdaiy in importance to his generali cbaract^,. his paiity, his connexions, and fifty other tbtngB, which bad no bearing MpoQ mmimdity.- There goes snotber shot! I'll swear to that," cried he, pulling ttp abort and looking in. the direction fifomwWcb the report proceeded. Mary- tamed at'the same moment, and pointed witb hef whip to- wards a beeeh wood that skirted the foot of the mountainj " "Was it from that quarter tbe sound came ?" said she. 140 THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIIT. The sharp crack of a fowling-piece, quickly followed by a second report, now decided the question ; and, as if by mutual consent, they both wheeled their horses round, and set off at a brisk canter towards the wood., " I have taken especial pains about preserving this part of the estate," said Mary, as they rode along. " It was my cousin Harry's favourite cover when he was last at home, and he left, I can't say how, many directions' about it when quitting us, though, to say truth, I never deemed any precautions necessary till he spoke of it." " So that poaching was unknown down here ?" " Almost completely- so ; now and then some idle fellow with a half-bred greyhound might run down a hare, or with a rusty firelock knock over a rabbit, but there it ended. And as we have no gentry neighbours to ask for leave, and the Oughterard folks would not ven- ture on that liberty, I may safely say that the report of a g^n is a rare event in these solitudes." " "Whoever he be, yonder, is not losing time," said Eepton ; — " there was another shot." Their pace had now become a smart half-gaUop, Mary, a little in advance, leading the way, and pointing out the safe ground to her companion. As they drew nigh the wood, however, she slackened speed till he came up, and then said : ■I " As I know everybody hereabouts, it will be enough if I only see the offender, and how to do that is the question." " I am at your orders," said Repton, raising his whip to a salute. " It will be somewhat diflEicult," said Mary, pondering ; " the wood. ia so overgrown with low copse that one can't ride through it, except along certain alleys. Now we might canter there for hours and see nothing.. I have it," cried she, suddenly, "you shall enter the wood and ride slowly along the green alley, yonder, tiU you come to the cross-road, when you'll turn off to the left, while I will remain in ob- servation outside here, ffo that if our friend make his. exit I am sure to overtake him. At aU events, we shall meet again at the lower end of the road." " I^pton made her repeat her directions, and then, touching his hat in respectful salutation, rode away to fulfil his mission. A low gate, merely fastened by a loop of iron without a padlock, admitted the lawyer within the precincts, in which he soon discovered that his pace must be a walk, so heavy was the deep clayey soil, littered with fallen leaves and rotting acorns. Great trees bent their massive limbs over his head, and even, leafless as they were, formed a darksome, gloomy THE MAaTINS OF CKO' MAETIIT. 141 aisle, the sides of which were closed in with the wild holly and the broom, and even the arbutus, all intermingled inextricably. There was something solemn even to sadness in the deep solitude, and so Eepton seemed to feel as he rode slowly along, alone, tinging his thoughts of her he had just quitted with melancholy. " "What a girl, and what a life !" said he, musingly. " I must tell Martin that this will: never do ! What can all. this devotion end in but disappointment. "With the first gleam of their newly-acquired power the people : will reject these benefits ; they will despise the slow-won fruits of industry as the gambler rejects a life of toU. Then will come a reaction — a terrible reaction — -with all the semblance of black ingratitude ! She will herself be disgusted. The breach once made wiU grow wider and wider, and at last the demagogue will take the place .of the landed proprie.tor. Estrangement at first, next dis- trust, and finally dislike, will separate thcgentry frob. the peasantry, and then 1 tremble to think of wh'at'then !" As Eepton had uttered these words, the sharp bang of a gun startled hini, and at the same instant a young fellow.'spraiig froin the copse in front of him into the alley. His coarse fustian, shooting- jacket, low-crowned oil-skin hat, and leather gaiters, seemed to be- speak the professional poacher, and Eepton dashed forward with his heavy riding-whip, upraised, towards him. ' : " Take care, old gentleman," said -the young man, facing about ; " my second barrel is lo.aded,, and if you dare— — ' ' " By Heaven ! I'll thrash you, you. scoundrel !" said Eepton, whose passion was now boiling over by a sudden bound of the cob, which had nearly thro*n him from the saddle — a mischance greeted by a hearty burst of laughter from, the stranger. " I fancy you have quite enough to do at this moment !" cried he still laughing. Half mad with anger, Eepton pressed his spurs to the cob's flanks, while he gave him a.vigotous cut of the whip on the shoulder. The animal was little accustomed to such usage, and reared up wildly, and would inevitablyhave fallen back with his rider had not the stranger, springing forward, seized the bridle, and pulled him down by main force. Whether indifierent to his own safety, or so blinded by passion as not to recognise to what he owed it, the old man struck the other a heavy blow with his whip over the head, cutting through his hat, and covering his face with blood. The young man passing his arm through the bridle, so as to render the other's escape impossible, coolly removed his hat and proceeded 142 THE MAETiirs or ceo' mabtin. to standh the bleeding witli his handkerchieC— not the slightest miga of excitement being displayed by hina, nor any evidence of feel- ing that the «Tent was other than a mere accident. " Let loose my briffl,e-rein — ^let it loose, Sir," said Eepton| passion- ately — more passionately, perhaps, from observing the measured calm- ness of the other. ■" "When I know who you are, I shall," said the young man. " My name i« Valentine ^Elepton; my address, if you want it, is Merriom-square North, Dublin ; and can you now teU me where a magistrate's warrant will reaoh yo« .**' ■"My present residence is a house yon may have seen on the side of the mountain as you came along, called, I think, Bamagheela; my ■name is Massingbred." " You presume to be a gentleman, then ?" said Xteptoa. " I hatve not heard the matter disputed before," said Jack, with «n easy smile, while he leisurely bound the handkerchief round his head. '' And, of course, you look for satisfaction for this ?" " I trust that th^e can be no mistake upon that point, at least," Tcpliediie. ' "iA-iud you shall have it, too ; though, hang me, if I well know whether you should not receive it at the next Assizes — but you shdl have it. I'U go into Oughterard this day ; I'U be there by nine o'clock, at the Martiu Arms." " That wiU do," said Massingbred, with a coolness almost like in- difference ; while he resumed his gun, which be had thrown down, and proceeded to 'load the second baa?rel. "Tou are aware that you arepoaching here ?" saidEepton — "that this is part of the Martin egtate, and simetly ■preserved ?" " Indeed 1 and J thought it belonged to Magennis," said Jack, easily ; "but a preserve without a gamekeeper, or even a ncrt^, is a blockade vrithout a blockading squadron." And without a word more, or any notice of the other, Massingbred shouldered his gjan and walked away. It was some time before Eepton could summon resolution to leave the spot, such was the oonfliot -of 'thoughts that went on -vrithin him. 'Shame and sorrow were, indee/d,-uppermost in his mind, but still not unmingled with anger at the consummate ease and coolness of the other, who by this line of conduct seemed to assume a tone of isupe- riority the most galling and insulting. In vain did he endeaviour to justify his -act to himself — in vain seek to find a plausible pretest for his anger. He could not, by aU his ingenuity, do so, and he only grew more passionate at his own failure. " Another would hand him THE MABTIUS Or CBO' MABTIN. 143 oyer to ttie next Justice of the Peaces-would leave him to Quarter Sessions ; but not so Yal Eepton"— " If o, by Jove, he'll find a man to bis humour there, if he wants fighting," said be aloud, as be turned bis borse about and rode slowly back. It was already dusk when he joined Miss Martin, who, uneasy at bis prolonged absence, bad entered the wood in search of bim. If; required all the practised dissimulation of the old lawyer to conceal tiie signs of bis la±e adventure ; nor indeed were bis replies to her questions quite free from a certain amount of inconsistency. Mary, boweiper, wUlingly changed the subject, and led bim back to speak of topics more agreeable and congenial to bim. StiU be was not the same sprightly companion who bad ridden beside her in the morning. He conversed with a degree of effort, and vrhen sufiered, ' would relapse into long intervals of silence. " Who inhabits that bleak-looking bouse yonder ?" said he, sud- denly. "A certain Mr. Mageniais, a neighbour, but not an acquaintance of ours." "And how comes it that be. lives in tbe very middle, as it were, of the estate ?" " An old lease, obtained I can't say bow many centuries back, and wbich will expire in a year or two. He has already applied for a renewal of it." " And, of course, unsuccessfully ?" " Tip to this moment it is as you say, but I am endeavouring ,1^ persuade my Uncle not to disturb bim ; nor would he, if Magennis would only be commonly prudent. Ton must know that this pcirson is tbe leading Badical of our town of Oughterard, the man who sets bitnself most strenuo.usly in opposition to our infi.«ence in tbe bo- rough, and would uproot our power there, were be able." "So far, then, he is a courageous fellow." " Sometimes I take that view of his conduct, and at others I ;am disposed to regard bim as one not unwiUing to juarai).d nobfldj Uving one jot the poorer! How .many arp theise ^ toiling away iij .^bsearjl^ -mi naxrow factjims;, ,to whom one single wcffd of praise— 'OBeehanee/eji* Jable flf encojMagement— would be life's blood'! "What .sanken cheiia and lacklustre eyes'wauld glow wd- gladden ifigfiin (by even a, locfcjf sympaitby, withheld 'fbom. no ladi of kindlinfisg, but mere , want of thoHght ! Oh ye, who hftvp ■station, ^and fame,rgeniu8,tor graai1m$g% bethink ye that these gifts are never higher than wikeai theyaelevai* Jjhe.hmalale and sheer the lowly, And -there is no physioiftQ 'libe him mho animates a drooping (heart, and gives new vigoiijjcto^weariefl fecultiefl, and (failing enei^. Joan was made h^ppy by #(ettwo &x tljBee wards of grateful .tiiamks Massiagbred >ad#essed to hepy,8®^ stole quietly away, leaving the two companions once more aloMs. If there was any incidesit in life partieipatioa in whi^, fould convey iatenae giati&catian to MagenniSj it was that ,eost of ,dSi*etice or misanderBtaoidHig ttiat /might lead to a (duel Vbenever dihe/affaap .o&ied no other.altfiisaatiye, his delight^wa« jinbpuijiisd. -TheEe were, At was rumoiHoaA, ewflts in his own early life iwhieh would imply thai; the :t»ate..for mortal combat 'Sxteoded .only to cases where his frien.ijfl were concerned, and had no sielfish .application whaft^wr. Of these we iknaw notiiing ; nor, indeed, have we any infprma,tiQn to opnv!^ Ji^gaiaimg him,,save by chance and stray wocds diopiped by iimB^ -Hi.the unguarded -hoiofB of after-diniaet converse. Ihe?e Are,.h()wever many who Jike .tl» aubordinaite parts ia ;thiB world's coMiedy— wbo 152 THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIN. would rather be Best Man than Bridegroom, and infinitely prefer performing Second, to Principal. We are not, however, going into the inquiry as to the cauSe; enough when we repeat that this was Magennis's great passion, and these were the kind of events for whose conduct and management he believed himself to possess the most consummate tact and ability. "You're in luck, Massingbred," cried he, as the other concluded his recital — "you're in luck, Sir, to have for your friend, one that, though I say it myself, hasn't his equal for a case like this in the three king- doms. It was I, Sir, took out Cahill when he shot Major Harris, of the Fusiliers. I handled him that morning in a way that made the English officers confess there was no chance against ua ! A duel seems an easy thing to arrange. Tou'd say that any fool could put up two men, twelve, or even ten, paces asimder, and tell them to blaze away ; and if that was all there was in it, it would be simple enough ; but consider for a minute the real ease, and just remember how much the nature of the ground, whether level or uneven, has to do with it ; what's behind, if a wall, or trees, or only sky ; the state of the light ; how the sun stands ; whether there's wind, and what way it's coming. These are not all. There's the pistols — ^how they ' ihrow^ and with what charge ; and then there's the size of your man. Ay, Massingbred, and let me tell you, you now see before you the man that invented the ' invulnerable position.' " " By Jove ! that's a most valuable fact to me just now," said Jack, helping himself to a fresh tumbler. " I'm glad you have not been retained by the other side." " The ' invulnerable position!' " continued Magennis, perfectly heed- less of the other's remark ; while, taking up the poker, he stalked out to the middle of the room, drawing himself up to his full height, and presenting, as though with a pistol — "Do you see what I mean ?" cried he. " I can't say I do," said Jack, hesitatingly. '• I thought not," rejoined the other, proudly, " nobody ever did that wasn't ' out' often. Pay attention now, and I'll explain it. My head, you perceive, is carried far behind my right shoulder, so as to be completely protected by my pistol-hand and the pistol. I say the pistol, because it has been proved scientifically that the steadiest eye that ever fired never could aim at the antagonist's pistol. Morris Crofton practised it for eight years in his own garden, and though he did succeed, he told me that for practical purposes it was no use. Now we come to the neck, and you may observe the bend of my elbow. Ay, that little angle that nobody would remark masks the THE MAETIITS Or CBO' IIAETIK. 153 jugular arteries, and all the 'other vital nerves in that part. John Toler used to say that the head and neck was like the metropolis, and that a shot elsewhere was only like a ' row' in the provinces : and a very true and wise remark it was. Not that I neglect the trunk," added he, proudly, "for you see how I stand — three-quarters of the back towards the enemy, so as not to expose the soft parts. As for the legs," cried he, contemptuously, " let them crack at them as long as they like." "And that's the 'invulnerable position,' " said Massingbred ; with less enthusiasm, however, than the discovery might seem to warrant. " It is, Sir, and if it wasn't for it there's many a strapping fellow walking about this day, that would be lying with a marble counter- pane over him. Billy "Welsh, that fought Brian of Deanstown, was the first man I ever ' put up' in it. BiUy had a slight crick of the neck, and couldn't get the head far enough round to the right, and the ball took him in the bridge of the nose, and carried that feature clean off, but never damaged him in any other respect what- ever 1" " I must say that the loss was quite sufficient for a man who had the benefit of the ' invulnerable position,' " said Massingbred, quietly. " He thinks nothing of it. A chap in the Crow-street Theatre made him a better nose than ever he had, out of wax, I believe ; and he has a winter one, with' a blush of red on it, to make believe it was cold, and they teU me you'd never discover it wasn't his own." Magenuis had now resumed his place at table, and seemed bent on making up for lost time by giving double measure of whisky to his pimch. " Ton say that he's to be in Oughterard to-night ; well, with the blessing of the Virgin" — an invocation he invariably applied to every act of dubious morality — " we'U be with him before he's out of bed to-morrow !" " I wish he had not given me a blow," said Jack, musingly. " He seemed such a stout-hearted, spirited old fellow, I'm really grieved to quarrel with him." " I'm glad that there's nobody to hear them words but myself, Mr. Massingbred," said the other, with all the slowness and deli- beration of incipient drunkenness— "I'm rejoiced, Sir, that it's in the confidential intercourse of friendly — friendly — communication that the son of my old and valued friend — Moore Massingbred — uses expressions like that." Jack started with amazement at this speech; he had not the iS3f THE MAEIHKS OT CBO' MAEXIJT. sHgWest Buspitsion tin that moment ttat Hkgenuis «ad Ms lather !hftd ©rer known each othsEj or even met. A very little fatienoe, jhowever, dh his part served to fsoisre the difficulty, for he discovereii that one ipf the peeaoliarifcies »f ihis.fitoge:of his friend's ebriety was to faiaoy himBelf the iatiiaate and aasoeiate ef any one fwhose .name he had ever heaKdmenbianed. "Ay, Sir, theitfja wcajdsyojorfiitfhBr would mever have .uttered. % was with him in his first hlaze. ' Moore,' says I, ' hayen't jom a pair of hla©k breeches ?' — :he'woEe aspais: .of web 'Inghfcs' of a light pattesm— — What lare you laughing at, Sir ?" cried he, fitemly, and BtrSkinf-dihe Mile with his elaicihedinuchlfifi, tiU:-the glasfieaiftU-rang on it. ^ I was -IffiBgKm® at :i»y fefrher's .eostiime,*' said Jack;; who jeally told -the truth, isuch & portrait ef his parent's appearaace being jmanifesfily juolbB aaaythiang he ikad ever imagiaed. " A«td"the worse manners youis, Sir," lejconed Msgennia, rudely. "I'll Hffit suffer any man to .laugh at, an old irienjl— and — «ad— schoolfellow!" ItTViiiS witih tbe very .greaifeest dffioiulty that Jack .could restrain himself at this^BBoratiaajTyhiehiadignaibion — the same,!pB^bly, that creates Poets — had suggested. He had, however, tact enough to preserve hisrgravity, while _he assured hisicompajiion that .no unfilial sentimgQjt had amy ehare in his tboiitghtB. " So far, so well," said Mageimii?, who now helped himself to *he whisky, uaiadulterated byiany water, "otherwise. Sir, it's not Lieu- tenant M£tgani»B,,of the — QthJFoot, would .handte you on ifche ground .to-morrow !" " So, then, you've served, Mac ? "Why, you never broke that to jne •" -Broke!" .eried i&e other, y^h a voice jshrill from paswoi^, whiLe he made «n «ff&Et to rise from his 'ebsar, ^d sunk hack again— " broke ! who dares to say I was ' broke.' I left the efiouadr^ds myself. Ishook thedust off my feet after ihsm. There never was a eouiJtianajttial about it. Never— nevea*.!" To the vdee^ crimson that suffiised his face before, there now succeeded an -almost death-lik* paillor, amd Massingbjed really .felt terrified at the tehajsge.- Some iieaj-trendii^ recoUaetion seemed .suddenly (to have deared his iram, routing in an instant all the effects stA' iBtoxicatioi!, mi restcaJWg him to BQibiDitety «nd sorrow togeilibfir. "Ay," said he, in a low, br®keii voice, mi. islall ^eakiiig to him- self, " that finished me ! I never held my l>ead up -again ! Whu .could, after sufth a business? I xame here, Mr„ MasBingbued/' ,epn- THE ILUmirS OF Cao' liAEIIIf. 155 tinned he, but addEeasbg hM giiest in a tone of deep re^reet — '" I came back bere a ruined man, and not «ight-and-tweiity ! Tou see me now, a dirty, dnpten sot, not better dressed, nor better mannered, than the commonest fellow on the road, and yet I'm a gentlemam bom and bred, well nurtiBased, and well leducated. I took a College degree, amd meiik into (the Army." He paused, as if faying to gathi^ courage to go on ; the effort was more tbaji he could aceom- {/lish, and, as the heary tears stole :Bki!wly .down his cheeks, the.agony of the afemggle might be 'detected- Half mechanically he seized the decanter of whisky and poured the tumbler nearly full; but Jack good-hmaoniEBd^ stretched out his hand -towards the glass, and said, " Don't drink, Mac ; there's no head conld staad ft." " Ton -think so, boy," dried he, with a sauqy smile. "^Litfcle you know the iwy jwe live in the west, here ;" and he iossed off the liquor before the other could stop him. The empty glass had scarcely been replaoedion -the table, when .all the former signs of dnmkeimesa had come back again, and in his bloodshot eyes and swollen Teios might be .seen the svery type lof passionate debauch. " Not ask me to their houses !" ciried he, hoarse with passioEU, "Who wantstthetn ? Not invite me ! Did I ever seek them ? The dirty, mean spalpeens, don't I know the history of every one of -them? Couldn't I expose them from one ehd of the county to the other? "Who's Blake of Harpist own f He's the son of Imeky Magaray, the pedlar. You dont believe me. I had it from father Cole hinsetf. Imeky was himged atHnaiis. ' Te want a confession !' says Lucky, when he came out on thediBop — 'yewaiat a canfessiogii^i^'H, I suppose there's no use in keeping imythiiig back iiow,^«xr ye'-l^ang me .at any rate, and so here it'« for you. It was J murdered Mr. ®aBB,,and there was nobody helpimg me at all. I did it .all imyBeiif with a flail ; and be the same token, it's under Mark Bindon's tomb» stone this minute. Tlhere naw, the Jury may be azy in theiir minds and the Judge, and the han^nan too, if he cares about it As for his Honour the High -Sheriff,' said he, rajrang his voice, ' he's a fine man, £rod blesB Hm, xmd the cquuty anay be psoad trf him, for it was he ^sraeted out .all about this bu^ess ! And faix, notwithstanding all, I'm proud of him myself, for he's my own son !' And as he said that he dropped on his knees and cried out that he might never see G-lory if there was a word of lie in anything he said then ! So that's what Make got im his aeal for justice !" aiud as Magemais finished, he bwrst into a -wild, ifiendishlM^h, and said: " There's the county gentry— there's the people won't know Ma- 156 THE MAE TINS OE OEO' MAETIIT. gennis and his wife! — ay, Sir, his lawful, married wife! Let me see that you or any other man wiU deny it, or refuse to treat her as becomes her station. — Joan ! Joan !" shouted he, striking the poker violently against the chimney; and with hot haste and intense anxiety the poor girl rushed into the room the moment after. " Sit down here, Ma'am," said Magennis, rising, and placing a chair for her be- side his Qwn, with an affectation of courtesy that savoured of mockery — " sit down, I say," cried he, stamping his foot passionately. " That's my wife, Sir ! No man that sits at mi/ board shall behave to her as anything else." "I have ever treated her with respect," said Massingbred, "and shall always continue to do so." "And it's better for you to do so," said the other, fiercely, the bullying spirit rising on what he deemed the craven submission of his guest. .: • Meanwhile the girl sat trembling with terror, not knowing what the scene portended, or how it was to end. "The herd's daughter, indeed! N"o, Sir, Mrs. Magennis, of Barnagheela, that's her name and title !" ■ At these words the poor girl, overcome with joy and gratitude, fell down upon her knees before him, and, clasping his hand, covered it with kisses. " Isn't that pretty breeding !" cried Magennis, violently. "Get up, Ma'am, and sit on your chair like a lady. The devil a use in it, do what you will, say what you will — the bad ' drop' is in them ; and whatever becomes of you in life, Massingbred, let me give you this advice — never marry beneath you !" Jack contrived at this juncture to signal to the girl to step away, and by appearing to attend with eagerness to Magennis, he prevented his remarking her exit. " A man's never really ruined till then," continued he, slowly, and evidently sobering again as he went on. " Priends fall . away from you, and your companions are sure to be fellows with something against them ! Tou begin by thinking you're doing a grand and a courageous thing ! Tou string up your resolution to despise the world, and, take my word for it, the world pays you off at last. Ay," said he, after a long pause, in which his features settled down into an ex- pression of deep sorrow, and his voice quivered with emotion — " ay, and I'll tell you something worse than all — you revenge all your dis- appointment on the poor girl that trusted you ! and you break Iter heart to try and heal your own I" THE MAETINS 01' CEO' MAETIN. 157 "With these last words he buried his head between his hands and sobbed fearfully. "Leave me now — leave me alone," said he, without lifting his head. " Good night — good night to you !" Massingbred arose without a word, and, taking a candle, ascendea to his chamber, his last thoughts about his host being very unlike those with which he had first regarded him. From these considera- tions he turned to others more immediately concerning himself, nor could he conquer his misgivings that Magennis was a most unhappy selection for a friend in such an emergency. " But then I really am without a choice," said he to himself. " Joe Nelligan, perhaps, might ^but no, he would have been infinitely more unfit than the other. At aU events, Nelligan has himself severed the friendship that once existed between us." And so he wan- dered on to thoughts of his former companionship with him. Ee- gretful and gloomy enough were they, as are all memories of those in whose hearts we once believed we had a share, and from which we cannot reconcile ourselves to the exclusion. " He had not the manliness to meet me when I had become aware of his real station ! What a poor-spirited fellow ! Just as if J cared what or who his father was. My theory is — Jack Massingbred can afford to know any man he pleases ! "Witness the roof that now shelters me, and the character of him who is my host !" It' was a philosophy he built much upon, for it was a form of self-love that simulated a good quality, many of his acquaintances saying, " At aU events, there's no snobbery about Massingbred ; he'll Imow, and even be intimate with, anybody." Nor did the deception only extend to others. Jack himself fancied he was an excellent fellow — frank, generous, and open-hearted. It is a very strange fact — and fact it certainly is — that the men who reason most upon their own natures, look inwardly at their own minds, and scrutinise most their own motives, are frequently the least natural of all mankind ! This self-inquiry is such thorough self-decep- tion, that he who indulges in it, often becomes an actor. As for Mas- singbred, there was nothing real about him save his Egotisfloi ! Gifted with very good abilities, aided by a strong "vitality," he had great versatility ; but of all powers, this same plastic habit tends most to render a man artificial. Now, his present difficulty was by no means to his taste. He did not like his "quarrel;" he liked less the age and station of his adversary ; and, least of all, was he pleased with the character of his " friend." It was said of Sheridan, that when consulted about the 1^. THE MABTIH-S 01' CEO' MAETIIT. nmsic of his opeias^ lie only asied, " Wffl it grind P"— that is, trauld it be popular enough for a street-organ, and become famiUafl: ter every ear? So Ja«k Massingbred regarded each even* in lifff by the test of how it would " tell" — in what wise eoiitM" at newspaper report'it — and how would it read in the Clubs ? He fancied himself discussing the adventure at "''White's," and asking, "'Can anyone say what Massingbred'a row was about? Was he poaching? — or how came he there ? "Was there a woman in it ? And who is his friend Magennis?" In thoaghts like these he' passed hour after hour, walking his room from end to end, and waiting for morning. At length he bethought him how little likely itwa's that Maigennis would remember anything whatever of the transaction, and that Ms late debaneh might obliterate all memory of the affair. " "What if this were to be the casBj and that we were to arrive' too late at Ough- terard ? A pretty version wonld the papers then publish tO' the worM!" Of all possible casualties' this was the very worst, and the more he reflected on it, the more probable did it seem. "He is the very fellow to wake up late in the afternoon, rub hiS' eyes, and' de- clare he had fbrgcstten the whole thing." " THs will never do !" muttered he to himself ; and at once deter- mined that he would make an endeavour to recai hia firiend t6 con- sciousaess, and come to some arrangemen't for the approaiching meet- ing. Massingbred descended the stairs with noiseless; steps; and gently approaching the door of the sitting-room, opened it; Magennisiwas asleep, his head resting upon the table, and his heavy breathing denoting how deeply he slumbered'. On a low stool at his feet sat Joan, pale and weary-looking, her cheeks still' marked with recent teais, and the dark impression of what seemed to have been a blow beneath her eye. Jack approached her eautioudy, and asked if it were his custom to pass the mght thus? "Sometimes, whea he's tired — when he has anylMo^ on his mind," replied she, in some confuision, and averting* her head so as to escape notice. "'And when he awakes," said Jack, "he will be quite refreshed, and his head all eleair again ?"' "By coorse he wHl!" said she, proudly. "No matter what he took of a night, nobody ever saw thei signs of it on Km,, the nmi morning." "I did not ask out of any impertinent cnriosity,"^ continued' Mas- singbred, " but we have, both of us, some rather important busi- ness to-morrow in Oughterard — we ought to be there at an early hoiir " THE MAETEfTS OT CBO' IfiiETm. 159 " I know/' said she, interrupting: " He bid me briag'down these ;" and she pointed to a case of pistols lying open beside her, and in cleaning which she had been at the moment engaged. " I brought the wrong ones", first. "" Her&sh© stammered ont something, and grew crimson over her whole face; then suddenly recovering herself, said, " I didn't know it was the 'Terries' he wanted."' " The ' Terries? ' " repeated Jack. "Yes, Sir; It was these Terry Callaghan; shot the two gentlemen withj the same mxsming, at Croghagliu — father and son they were !" And saying these words in a voice of the most perfect unconcern possible, she took up a flannel rag and began to polish the lock of one of the weapons. "They're haaidsome' pistols," said Jack, rather amused with her remark. "They're good, and that's better!" replied she, gravely. "That one in your hand has seven double crosses on the stock and nine single." "^The seven were killed on the ground, I suppose ?"' A short nod of assent was her reply. " Such little events are not unfrequent down here, then?" "•Anan!'* said she, not understanding his question. Jack quickly perceiTCd that he had not taken sufficient account of Joan's limited acquaintance with language, and said : " They often fight in these parts P' " Aysh ! not now," replied ahej. in a half-deploring tonai " My father remembers twenty duels for one that does be, nowia-daysJ' " A great change, indeed." " Some say it's all for the better," resumed she, doubtfully. " Biit hush — he's- stirring ; leave him. quiet, and. I'll call yon when he's ready." " And I can depend^—"' " To be sUre you can. Efe forgets many a. thing, but no man living can say-that he ever' misremembered a dud." And with these words, in a low whisper, she motioned Massingbred to the doer. Jack obeyed; in silence, and, ascending tO' his roonii lay down on the bed'. He determined to pasa the interval before morning in deep thought and self-examination ; but, somehow, he had scarcely laid his head on the pillow when he fell off into a heavy sleep,, sound and dreamless. The day was just breaking when^he was aroused- by a somewhat rude shake, and a voice saymg : " Come,, up 'with you> "We've a sharp ride before us !" 160 THE MAETINS OF OHO' MAETIN. Jack started up, and in an instant recalled aH the exigencies of the hour. " I have sent ' the tools' forward by a safe hand," continued Magennis; "and Joanr has a cup of tea ready for us, below stairs. So, lose no time now, and let us be off." Tlie humble meal that awaited them was soon despatched, and they were speedily mounted on the pair of mountain ponies Magennis had provided, and whose eqiiipments, even in the half-light of the morning, rather shocked Massingbred's notions of propriety — one of his stirrtip- leathers being a foot shorter than the other, while an old worsted beU-rope formed the snaffle-rein of his bridle. The road, too, was rugged and precipitous, and many a stumble and scramble had they in the uncertain light ; while the swooping rain dashed violently against them, and effectually precluded all thought of conversation. Two hours, that seemed like ten, brought them at length upon the high road ; after which, by a brisk canter of forty minutes, they reached Oughterard. "Let us dismount here," said Jack, as they gained the outskirts of the town, not fancying to make a public appearance on his humble steed. " "Why so ?" answered Magennis. " It's ashamed of the pony you are ! Oh, for the matter of that, don't distress yourself ; we're too well used to. them in these parts to think them ridiculous." There was a soreness and irritation in his tone which Jack quickly remarked, and as quickly tried to obviate, by some good-natured remark about the good qualities of the animals ; but Magennis heard him without attention, and seemed entirely immersed in his own thoughts. " Turn in there, to your left," cried he, suddenly, and they wheeled into an arched gateway that opened upon the stable-yard of the inn. Early as it was, the place was full of bustle and movement, for it was the market-day, and the farmers were already arriving. Carts, cars, gigs, and a dozen other nameless vehicles, crowded the spot, with kicking ponies and mules of malicious disposition; groom- ing, and shoeing, and unharnessing went on, with a noise and merri- ment that^was perfectly deafening ; and Massingbred, as he threaded his way through the crowd, soon perceived how little notice he was likely to attract in such an assembly. Magennis soon dismounted, and having given directions about the beasts, led Jack into the house, and up a narrow, creaking stair, into a small room, with a single window, and a bed in one corner. " This is where I always put up," said he, laying down his hat and whip, '' and it will do well enough for the time we'll want it." IHE MAETIWS Or CEO' MAETIN. 161 CHAPTER XVI. "A CHALLENGE." "He's here ; he arrived last night," said Magennis, as he entered the room after a short exploring tour through the stahles, the kitchen, and every other quarter where intelligence might be come at. " He came alone ; but the Major of the detachment supped with him, and that looks like business !" "The earlier you see him the better, then," said Massiugbred. " I'll just go and get my beard off," said he, passing his hand across a very grizzly stubble, " and I'll be with him in less than half an hour. There's only a point or two I want to be clear about. Before he struck you, did you gesticulate, or show any intention of using violence ?" " None. I have told you that I caught his horse by the bridle, but that was to save him from falling back." "Ah, that was indiscreet, at all events." ""Wouldn't it have been worse to suffer him to incur a severe danger which I might have prevented ?" " I don't think so ; but we'll not discuss the point now. There was a blow ?" " That there was," said Jack, pointing to the spot where a great strap of sticking-plaister extended across his forehead. " And he seemed to understand at once that reparation was to be made for it?" "The suggestion came fr6m himself, frankly and speedily." "Well, it's pretty evident we have to deal with a gentlemah !" said Magennis, " and that samei's a comfort ; so I'll leave you now for a short time : amuse yourself as well as you can, but don't quit the room." And with this caution Magennis took his departure, and set off in search of Mr. Eepton's chamber. " Where are you bringing the mutton chops,'-' Peter ?" said he to a waiter, who, with a well-loaded tray of eatables was hastening along the corridor. "To the ould Counsellor, from Dublin, Sir. He's breakfastin' with the Major." " And that's his room, No. 19 ?" « Yes, Sir." 162 THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIIT. "They're merry, at all events," said Magennis, as a bvirst of hearty Jaughter was heard from -within the chamber. " 'Tis just that they are, indeed," replied Peter. " The Counsellor does be telling one story after another, till you'd think he'd no end of them. He began last night at supper, and I could scarce change the plates for laughin'." Muttering some not very intelligible observation to himself, Ma- gennis passed down the stairs, and issuing into the street, wended his way to the barber's. If the Oughterard Kgaro had not as brilliant a vocation as his colleague of Seville, his occupations were scarcely less multifarious, for he kept the post-oifice, was clerk at petty sessions, collected the parish cess, presided over "the pound," liesides a vast number of in- ferior duties. "Whether it was the result of a natural gift, or by the various information of his official life, Hosey Lynch was regarded in his native town as a remarkably shrewd man, and a good opinion on a number of subjects. He was a short, decrepi'd old fellow, with an enormous head of curly black hair, which he seemed to cultivate with all the address of his craft ; probably intending it as a kind of advertisement of his skill, displaying as it did all the resources of his handiwork. But even above this passion was his ardour for news — news, political, social, legal, or literary ; whatever might be the topic, it always interested him, and it was his especial pride to have the initiative of every event that stirred the hearts of the Oughterard public. The small den in which he performed his functions occupied fhe comer -of the street, giving a view in two directions, so that Hosey, while cutting and curling, never was obliged to lose sight of that world without, in whose doings he felt so strong an interest. In the one easy-chair of this sanctum was Magennis now disposed, waiting for Mr. Lynch, who had just stepped down to "the pound," to libe- rate the priest's pig. Nor had he long to wait, for Hosey soon'made his appearance, and slipping on a very greasy-looking jean-jacket, proceeded to serve him. " The top of the morning to you. Captain" — he always styled him by the title — " it's a rare pleasure to see you so early in town ; but it will be a bad market to-day — cut and curled. Captain ?" ." No ; shaved !" said Magennis, bluntly. " And shaved you shall be, Captain — and beautifully shaved, too, for I have got an excellent case from Lamprey's ; they came yester- day — came with the writ against Jones Creegan," " At whose suit ?" 1^ ^ *HE MAETINS OS CEO' MAETIS". 163 "Mrs. Miles Creegan, the other brother's widow," said Hoseyj lathering away and talking with breathless rapidity. " There was a clause in old Sam's will, that if ever Tom, the chap that died at Demerara — you'd like more off the whiskers, it's more military. It was only yesterday Major Froode remarked to me what a soldierlike- looking man was Captain Magennis." " Is he in command of the detachment ?" asked the other. - " He is in his Majesty?s — 1st Foot — the ' Buccaneers,' they used to be called ; I suppose you never heard why ?" "Ho, nor don't want to hear. "What kind of a man is the Major?" ' . - " He's a smart, weU-made man, with rather a haughty look;" said Hosey, drawing himself up, and seeming to imply that there was a kind of resemblance between them. " Is he English or Irish ?" " Scotch, Captaiii — Scotch ; and- never gives more thanfivepence for a cut and curl, pomatum included. — No letters, Mrs. Cronin,'^ cried he, raising up the movable shutter of the little window ; then bending down his ear he listened to some whispered eommunicEition from that lady> after which he shut the panel, and resumed his functions. " She's at law with O'Eeilly about the party wall. THere'^ the Major now going down to the barracks, and I wonder who'S'the other along with him ;" and Hosey rushed to the door-to' find some clue to the stranger. In less than a quarter of a minute he was back again, Asking pardon for absence, and informing MagenniS " that the man in plain clothes was a Dublin CounseUor, that arrived the night before. I think I can guess what he's here for." " What is it ?" cried Magennis, eagerly. " There's an election coming on, arid the Martins expect a contest. — Nothing for you, Peter," said he to an applicant for a letter out- side. '* He's looking tg be made- Barony Constable tbese four years, and he's as much chance as I have of being — what shall I say — ^ — " " Are you done ?" asked Magennis, impatiently. " One minute more. Sir — ^the least touch round the chin-— and, as I was saying. Captain, the Martins wUl lose the borough." "Who thinks so besides you ?" asked Magennis, gruffly. " It is, I may say, the general opinion ; the notion current in ■There's Miss Martin, herself," cried he, running to the window. " Well, really, she handles them ponies elegant I" " Does she come often into town ?" " I don't think I saw her in Oughterard — let me see when it was— it's two years — no, but it's not far off— it's more than " u 2 164 THE MAETINS OP CEo' MAETIN. "Are you done?" said Magennis, impatiently/ "I told you that I was pressed for time this morning." "You're finished now, Captain," said Hosey, presenting him with a small cracked looking-glass. " That's what I call a neat chia and a beautiful sweep of whisker. Thank you. Captain. It's a pleasure and an honour — not to say that it's " Magennis did not wait for the peroration, but, striding hastily out of the little shop, issued into the street that led to the Inn. On arriving there, he heard that Mr. Eepton had gone out, leaving word that he would be found at Major Proode's quarters. Thither Ma- gennis now repaired, with all the solemn importance befitting his mission. As he sent in his name, he could overhear the short colloquy that passed within, and perceive that Eepton was about to retire ; and now the servant ushered him into the presence of a smart, light- whiskered little man, with a pair of shrewd grey eyes, and a higli forehead. " A brother officer, I perceive. Sir," said he, looking at the card, whereupon the title Captain was inscribed ; "pray take a chair." " Tou anticipate the reason of this visit, Major Froode," said the other, with some degree of constraint, as though the preliminaries were the reverse of pleasant to him. The Major bowed, and Magennis went on : "I suppose, then, I'm to treat with you as the friend of Mr. Valentine Eepton ?" " And you are Mr. Massingbred's ?" said the Major, answering the question with another. " I have that honour, Sir," said Magennis, pompously ; " and now. Sir, how soon can it come off ?'" " Don't you imagine. Captain Magennis, that a little quiet discus- sion of the question at issue between two old soldiers, like you and myself, might possibly be advisable ? Is there not a chance that our imited experience might not suggest an amicable arrangement of this business ?" " Quite out of the question — utterly, totally impossible I" said Magennis, sternly. "Then perhaps I lie under some misconception," said the Major, courteously. " There was a blow, Sir ! — a blow !" said Magennis, in the same stern tone. " I opine that everything that occurred was purely accidental — just hear me out — that a hasty word and a hurried gesture, compli- cated with fhe impatient movement of a horse ' " THE MAETINS Or OEO' MAETIN. 165 A long whistle from Magennis iaterrupted the speech, and the Major, reddening to the very top of his high forehead, said : " Sir, this is unbecoming — are you aware of it ?" "I'm quite ready for any thing when this is settled," said Magennis, but with less composure than he desired to assume. " What I meant was, that, for a blow there is but one reparation." "Doubtless, if the injury admit of no explanation," said the Major, calmly ; " but in that lies the whole question. Consider two things. Captain Magennis : first of all, the equivocal appearance of yojw friend, the age and standing of mine." "'By Jove ! you'U kiU me in trying to save my life," said Eepton, bursting into the room. "I didn't want to play eavesdropper, Froode, but these thin partitions are only soundboards for the voice. This gentleman, added he," turning to Magennis, " is perfectly cor- rect. There was a blow, and a blow has only one consequence, and that one I'm ready for. There may be, for aught I know, twenty ways of settling these matters in London or at the Clubs, but we're old-fashioned in our notions in Ireland here ; and I don't think that even when we pick up new fashions that we're much the better for them, so that if your friend is here, Captain, and ready " " Both, Sir ; here and ready !" " Then so am I ; and now for the place. Come, Troode, you don't know Ireland as well as I do ; just humour me this time, and when- ever I get into a scrape in Scotland you shall have it all your own way. Eh, Captain, isn't that fair ?" " Spoke like a trump !" muttered Magennis. " For me, did you say ?" said Eepton, taking a letter from the ser- vant, who had just entered the room. " Tes, Sir ; and the groom says there's an answer expected." " The devil take it, I've forgotten my spectacles. Eroode, just tell me what's this about, and who it comes from." "It's Miss Martin's hand," said Proode, breakiug the seal and running over the contents. " Oh, I perceive," said he; " they're afraid you have taken French leave of them at Cro' Martin, and she has driven into town to carry you back again." " That comes tjf my leaving word at the little post-office to forward my letters to Dubhnif not asked for to-morrow. Take a pen, Froode, and write a couple of lines for me : say that a very urgent call — a professional caU — wiU detain me here to-day, but that if not back by dinner-time — Captain Magennis thinks it not likely," added he, turn- ing towards him as he sat, with a very equivocal expression, half grin, half sneer, upon his features — " that I'U be with them at breakfast next XQQ XHE MAETINS Of CEO' MAETHT. inoming ," resumed Eepton, boldly. " Make some excuse for my hot answering ■the note myself — wbateTer occurs to you. And so, Sir," said he, turning to.Magennis, "your friend's name is Massing^ed? Any relation to Colonel Moore Massingbred .?" " His son — his only son, I believe." " How strange ! I remember the father in the ' House' — ^I mean the Irish House — five-and-thirty. years ago ; he was always on the Government benches. It was of him Parsons wrote those doggrel Unes: A man without a heart or head, Who seldom thought, who never read, A witty word who never said, One at whose hoard none ever fed, Sudh is the Colonel M — g— bi— d. He couldn't call him a cowaf d, thtjugh ; for when they WBnt out — which they did — Maasingbred's manner on the ground was ad- mirable." " Will that do ?" said i'roode, showing a few lines lie had hastily jotted do*n. -"I can't Tead a word of it, but of course it will," said he ; "and then, Sir," added he, addressing MagenniB, " the sooner we place 'our- selves at your disposal the better." iProode whispered something in. Eepton' sear, and by his manner seemed as if remonstrating with him, when the other said aloud :- ■"■We're in Ireland, Major; and, what's more, we're in G-aiway; as Macleweed said once to a prisoner : 'With a Yorkshire jury, Sir, I'd hang you. Tour sentence now is, to pay' five marks to the Elng, and find bail ft)r your good behaviour.' Ton see what virtue there is in locality." " There's a neat spot about" two miles ofi', on the road to Maum," sai-d Mageniiis io the Major: " We could ride slowly forward, and you might keep us in view.'' "In what direction did you sayf" ■"Take the second turn but of the market-place -till you pass the taker's shop, then, to the left, and straight on afterwards. Tou can't miss it," "Stop a moment. Sir," Baid IVoode to Magennis, as he moved to- wards the door; "one word, if you please. It is distinctly under- stood that I have been overruled in this business — that, in fact, I have submitted " " Tour point has been reserved," said Eepton, laughing, while he led %im away ; and Mageimie at the same moment took his departure. THE IIAETIKB 01' OEO' MiMTIS. 167 It was, indeed, -witli no slight feeling of iarinmpk tbaifc this gentle- man now hastened back to the Martin Arms. Never did a great diplomatist experience more pride in the conclusion of som^ crown- ing act of negotiation than did hs in the accompHshment of this affair. "There's many a man," said he to himself, ^' who'd have accepted an apology here — there's many a man might hayelet himself be em- barrassed by the cireumstances ; for, certainly, the taking hold of the bridle was an awkward fact, and if the Major was a 'cute fellow he'd have made a stand upon it. I must say that the Counsellor showed no backwardness ; he. comes of tha± fine old stock we used to huve before the TJnion." And with this profound reflection he entered the room where Massingbred sat awaiting him. " It's all settled. "We're to meet at the Priest's Gap within an hour," said Magennis, with the air of a man who had acquitted him- self cleverly. "And though I say it, that shouldn't, if you. were in other hands this morning you wouldn't have got your shoti" "I always reHed implicitly upon your skill!" said Massingbred, humouring his vanity. " Have you anything to arrange — a letter or so to write — for I'll step down to Doctor Hearkins to tell him to follow us ?" Massingbred made no reply as the other left the room. Once more alone, he began .to think gravely over his present situation. Nor could all his habitual levity steel him against the conviction that five minutes of common-sense talk might arrange a dispute which now promised a serious ending. " However," thought he, " we are not in the land where such differences admit of amicable solution, and there's no help for it." A sharp tap at the door startled him from these musings, and before he could well reply to it Daniel Nelligan entered the room, and advanced towards him with an air of mingled ease and constraint. " I hope you'll forgive me, Mr. Massingbred," he began. " I feel certain that you will at some fiiture day at least, for what I'm going to do." Here he stopped and drew a long breath, as if not knowing in what terms to continue. Massingbred handed him a chair, and took one in front of him without speaking. " I know what brought you here to-day — I am aware of it all." He paused, and waited for the other to speak ; but Massingbred eat without offering a word, and evidently relying on his own social tact to confound and embarrass his visitor. 168 THE MAETHTS OF OEO' MAETDT. " I know, Sir, tliat you are likely to regard my interference as im- pertinent," resumed Kelligan; "but I trust that the friend of my son, Joe " " I must set you right, upon one point at least, Mr. Nelligan," said Massingbred, with an easy smUe. " If you be only as accurate in your knowledge of my affairs as you are with respect to my private friendships, this visit has certainly proceeded from some misconcep- tion. .Tour son and I were friends once upon a time. "We axe so no longer!" I " I never heard of this. I never knew you had quarrelled !" " "We have noi, Sir. We have not even met. The discourtesy he has shown me since my arrival here— his avoidance of me, too marked to be explained away — ^is an offence. The only misfortune is, that it is one which can be practised with impmiity." " My son asks for' none such," said Dan, fiercely. " And if your observation is meant for an insult " He stopped suddenly, as if checked by something virithin, and then said, but in a voice fuU. and measured: "I'm a magistrate of this town. Sir, and I come here upon information that has reached me of your intentions to commit a breach of the peace." " My dear Mr. Nelligan," began Massingbred, in his most seductive of manners, — but the other had already witnessed the rupture of the only tie which bound them — the supposed friendship between Joe and Massingbred — and cared nothing for all the blandishments he could bestow, — " my dear Mr. Nelligan, you cannot, surely, suppose that a mere stranger as I am in your county — scarcely ten days here — should have been unfortunate enough to have incurred the animosity of any one." " I hold here a statement. Sir," said Nelligan, sternly, " which, if you please to pledge your honour to be incorrect " "And this is G-alway!" exclaimed Massingbred — "this glorious land of chivalrous sentiment of which we poor Englishmen have been heating to satiety ! The Paradise of Point of Honour, then, turns out a very common-place locality after all!" " I'm proud to say. that our County has another reputation than its old one ; not but" — and he added the words in some temper — " there are a few left would like to teach you that its character was not acquired for nothing." " Well, well !" sighed Jack, as he closed his eyes, and appeared as if indulging in a reverie, " of all the mockeries I have lived to see un- masked, this is the worst and meanest." "I have not come here to listen to this, Sir," said Nelligan, THE MAETIirS OF OEO' MAETIN. 169 haughtily, as he arose. " I waited upon you, intending to accept your solemn pledge, by -vrord of honour, to commit no act hostile to the public peace. Now, sir, I shall call upon you to give me the legal guarantee for this security — good and sufficient bail, and that within an hour !" " My deac Mr. Nelligan," replied Massingbred, with all the quiet ease of an unruffled temper, " I have not a single friend here, except yourself, upon whom I could call in such an emergency. I am utterly unknown in these parts — my very name unheard of before my aiTival. If I did by any unhappy circumstance find myself in such an involve- ment as you speak of, I solemnly assure you my first thought would be to address myself to Mr. Nelligan." The easy impertinence of this speech would have been perfectly successful a short time previous, when Nelligan yet believed in the close friendship with his son. It came now, however, too late, and the old man listened to it with something bordering on auger. " Good and sufficient bail, Sir — yourself and two others," repeated he, slowly, and moving towards the door, "■One word, I pray," said Jack, rising, and speaking with more earnestness and apparently with more sincerity. " I do not ask you any details as to the circumstances you impute to me, but perhaps you would, as a favour, tell me how this information has reached you ?" " I will not, Sir," was the abrupt reply. " I'm sure no friend of mine could have " " It's no use, Mr. Massingbred ; all your address will avail you nothing. Tou shall not cross-examine me!" " Tou must, however, see. Sir," said Massingbred, " that unknown and unfriended as I am here, bail is out of the question." " The Bench wUl hear anything you desire to say on that subject," said NeUigan, coldly. " Good morning to you." And with these words he left the room, and descended into the street. The passionate warmth which Massingbred had so successfully controlled in the presence of his visitor burst forth the first moment he found himself alone. He inveighed against the country, the people, their habits, and all belonging to them ; cursed his own fate at being ever thrown into such companionship ; and wound up by re- solving to submit to any terms by which he might quit Galway for ever, and forget, for the rest of his days, that he had ever entered it. "While he was yet fuming in this fashion, the waiter entered and pre- sented him with a very dirty-lqoking note, fastened by two wafers, and inscribed " Most private." Massingbred opened it and read : 170 THB MABUN B OS OEO' MAJIXUT. " Mx DEAB Mb. M.., " We're found out — I believe by Hosey Lynch, where I dropped a .bullet-mould this morning when he was shaving me. At all events, we're blown, and as I am under 2501, recognissmces to keep the peace for three years, I'm off to the Mountains till this passes over. I'm sure, from what I saw of the Counsellor, that he'll keep himself open to a proposal elsewhere. Meanwhile, there's nothing for it but to give your bail and satisfy the blackguards — ^bad luck to them^ — that spoiled the sport J You can go back to the house when all's over, and I'll return as soon as it is safe for " Your sincere fiiend, " T. M," Scarcely had he finished reading this epistle, when Major Proode presented himself in his chamber, the door of which the waiter was yet holding ajar. Having introduced himself he briefly informed Massingbred of his position as Mr. Eepton's friend, and as briefly stated that the Counsellor had been obliged to pledge himself agaiost any hostile intentions — a step which, he foresaw, would also be. re- quired of him also. " For, this reason I have come," continued he, " to say, that any assistance I can be of to you, is frankly at your service. I have learned that you are a stranger here, and not likely to have many acquaintances." " If they would be satisfied with my word," began Jack. " Of course they will, and shall," interrupted Froode ; " and now, what is there in the way of amende my friend can make, for what he is prepared to confess was a mere accident ?" " The acknowledgment is ample. I ask for nothing beyond it," said Massingbred. " I am not quite certain but that my own con- duct might require a little explanation ; but as your friend's vigour put matters beyond negotiation, at the time, we'll not go back upon bygones." " And now, Sir," burst in Eepton, who had awaited outside the door — " and now, Sir, I beg you to accept the humblest apology I can tender for what has happened. I'm not as safe on my saddle as I used to be forty years ago ; and when the nag reared and threatened to faU back on me, I am ashamed to own that I neither saw nor cared what I struck at. I'd have said all this to you, Mr. Massing- bred, after your fire, had we been permitted to go to the ground; and although there is some additional humiliation in sayiag it, here, I richly deserve all the pain it gives me, for my want of temper. "Will you give me your hand ?" THE MAETnrS OS CEO' MAEIIN, 171 "With sincere pleasure," said Jack, shaking him warmly and cordially with both his own. " There's but one thing more to be done," said Eepton. " These borough magistrates, vulgar dogs as they are, wUl want you to give a bail bond ; take no notice of them, but just drive out with me to Oro' Martin, and we'U settle it all there." " I am not acquainted with Mr. Martin." " But you shall be. He'U be charmed to know you, and the place is worth seeing. Come, you mustn't leave the West, with only its barbaiism in your memory. Ton must carry away some other re- collections," The new turn affairs had just taken was by no means distasteful to Massingbred. It promised another scene in that drama of life he loved to fashion for himself, with new scenery, new actors, and new incidents. "The Counsellor," too, struck his fancy; there was a ra- ciness in the old man's. manner, a genial cordiality,, united with such palpable acuteness, that he promised himseK much pleasure in his society, and so he accepted the proposal with all willingness, and pledged to hold himself ready for his friend within an hour. Eepton and the Major had but just left the room, when the former re-entered it hurriedly, and said, " By the way, I must leave you to your own guidance to find your road to Cro' Martin, for there's a young lady below stairs has a lien upon me. Ton shall be presented to her when you come out, and I promise you it will repay the journey." " This must be the Mary Martin I've been hearing of," thought Massingbred, whmi again alone ; " and so the morning's work will probably turn out better than I had anticipated." CHAPTEE XVn. A. COUNTET-HOCSE. Whes Massingbred arrived at Cro' Martin, he found Eepton at the door awaiting him. " I find," said he, " there is Kttle need of intro- ducing you here. Tour father was an old acquaintance of Martin's ; they sat together for years in Parliament, and Lady Dorothea was related to your family. But here he comes." And Martin ap- proached, with his hand extended in cordial welcome. No one ever 172 THE MAETINS OP OEO' MAETIN. knew Jbetter how to do the hoMurs of his house, nor could throw mOre graceful courtesy into the first steps of acquaintanceship. Massing- bred, too, was well calculated to appreciate this gift ; he had a most intense esteem for "manner," and enjoyed even the necessity it im- posed upon himself of exertion to please. "With sincere satisfaction was it that he accepted an invitation to pass some days there, and at once despatched a servant to Magennis's house for his trunks. The adventure of the morning was alluded to but once, and then ill a jocular strain, as an incident of no moment whatever, and Massingbred retired to his room to dress for dinner, wondering within himself if he should find the other members of the family as much to his liking as the worthy host had been. A dinner-party was a rare event at Gro' Martin. The isolation in which they lived was rarely broken by a visitor, and when, by rare accident, some solitary stranger did present himself with a letter of introduction, his stay was merely of a few hours. Now, however, the company included, in addition to the family, Eepton, Massingbred, and NeUigan, besides Miss Henderson, who was on that day to appear at dinner. The quondam College friends had not met, neither had Miss Martin ever seen her governess; so that there was no small degree of anticipation as to how such elements would harmonise and agree. When Massingbred entered the drawing-room, he found Miss Henderson there alone, and, at once bdieving she could be no other than Miss Martin, he proceeded to introduce himself in the best manner he could. Her reception was perfect in ease and self-pOs- session, and they soon found thenlselves engaged in a lively discus- sion as to the scenery, the people, and their habits, of which they both appeared to have a very similar appreciation. Lady Dorothea next made her appearance, and advancing towards Massingbred, welcomed him with what, for her, was the extreme of cordiality. " Your mother was a Caradoc, Mr. Massingbred, and the Caradocs are all of our family, so let me claim relationship, at once." "With aU the pretensions of a very fine lady. Lady Dorothea knew how to unite very agreeable qualities, not the less successful in her eaptivations, tliat she never exercised them without a real desire to please ; so that Massingbred soon saw how in the wUds of dreary Connemara there existed a little oasis of polish and civilisation that would have done honour to the most splendid society of London or Paris. Nor was Massingbred himself less pleasing to her. It was so long H-l/'- ^^ 5s THE MAETIKS OE CEO' MAETIK. 173- — SO many, many yeara since she had met with one fresh from that great world which alone she valued ! Correspondence had kept her to a certain extent informed upon the changes and vicissitudes of society^-the births, deaths, marriages, separations, quarrels, arid other disasters of- those dear Mends for whose griefs, absence and time offer so many cpiisolations ! But then, the actual appearance, the coup d'ceil of that world could only be imparted by an observer; himself imbued with all the spirit that gives observation, its peculiar piqiiancy. This, she found in him, arid so agreeably exercised was it, that she actually heard dinner announced without attending, and only as she arose froin her seat was reminded to present him toMiss Martin, by the brief phrase: " My niece — Mr. Massiugbred ;" while she took' his arm, with a glance at Mr. Eepton, that plainly saidT^"Tou are deposed." ' :■ The passage to the dinner;room lay through three spacious and splendid rooms, which now were brilKaritly. flighted .up, and lined with servants in rich liveries, a degree of- state Massirigbred was not a little pleased at, "pai:tly' suspecting that it was iritended to do himself honour. As they moved- slowly ihrdugh the last of these, the door suddenly. 'opened,_arid young Nelligan'entered. He had re- turned late from a long ride, arid heatd. nothirig whatever of Massing- bred's arrival. With an exclamation of " Jack !^ — Massingbfed !" he bounded forward ;. but the_othef. aho.wed- no recognition of him, and directing Lady Dorothea's, attention to the ..richness' of a picture- frame, passed calmly on into the'dinner-roorii. "Toumust bring up the rear, alone, WelUgan," said Martin, who had given his arm to Miss Henderson; and Joe followed, almost overwhelmed with mingled shame arid amazement. For an instarit the possibility !of mistake assuaged his sense of mortification, but no sooner did ^he find himself at table, and directly opposite to Massingbred, than he 'perceived- there was no ground whatever, for this consolation. It was indeed Massingbred, just as he had seen him the first day in the Common's Hall at dinner, and when his'cold, supercilious manner iad struck him so disagreeably. What a terrible vengeance for all the superiority NeUigan had dis- played over him in the Examination Hall was Massingbred's present success, for success it was. With all that consummate readiness the habit of society imparts. Jack could talk well on a gseat variety of topics, and possessed besides that especial tact to make others so far participators in his observations, that they felt a partnership, in the agreeability. Lady Dorothea was perfectly charmed with him ; it 174 THE MAETINS 01' CEO' MAETIIT, was the triumph, as it were, of one of her own set. His anecdotes — not very pointed or curious in themselves — ^had the marked charac- teristic of always referring to distinguished individualsfso that what was deficient in wit was more than compensated hy the rank of the actors. Martin enjoyed his conversation with all his own complacent ease, and felt delighted with one who could play all the game without an adversary. Mary was pleased and astonished together — the plea- sure being even less than the amazement — at all he seemed to know of life and the world, and how intimately one so young seemed to have mixed in society. As for Eepton, he relished the other's powers with the true zest of a pleasant talker ; they were of different styles, and no disagreeable rivalry marred the appreciation. Amidst aM these silent or spoken testimonies sat poor WelUgan, overwhelmed with shame. Massingbred had refused to recognise him ! and it was lefb to his own gloomy thoi^hts to search out the reason. At first Joe avoided meeting the other's look; he dreaded he knew not what of impertinence or insult, to which the time and place could offer no reparation ; but gradually he grew to perceive that Massingbred's cold eye met his own, without a spark of meaning, nor was there in voicCj manner, or bearing, a single evidence of con- straint or awkwardness to be detected. Miss Henderson alone seemed to listen to him with easy indiffer- ence ; and more than onee, when Jack put forth his most showy pretensions, he was secretly mortified to see how little impression he had made on the dark beauty with the haughty snule. This was exactly the kind of defiance that Massingbred never declined, and he determined within hunself to attempt the conquest. As the pariy returned to the drawing-room he asked Lady Dorothea to present him more formally to the young lady, whose acquaintance he had dared to obtrude upon before dinner, but she coldly said : " Oh ! it's no matter, she's only the governess." An explanation she deemed quite suf&cient to subdue any rising feeling of interest regarding her. " And the gentleman who sat next her at dinner ?" asked he. " A neighbour — that is, the son of one of our borough people. I have not introduced him to you^ for of course you are not likely to meet again. As you were remarking, a while ago, society in England is- gradually undergoing that change which in France was accom- plished in a year or two." ^ " With the aid of the guillotine and the ' lanteme,' " said Jack, smilmg. " Just so ; they used sharp remedies for a quick cure. But I own THE HAETITfTS 01' CEO MABTIW. 175 a to you that I have not yet reconciled myself, nor do I see how I shall ever reconcfle myself, to intimacy with a class not only whose hahits and instincts, but whose very natures are adTerse to our own, That young man now, for instance, they apeak of him as quite ^ CoUege wonder. I'm ashamed to say I don't know wherein his great successes lie ; but they tell me that he has distanced every competitor of his day, and stands alone in his pre-eminence, and yet we saw him to day not venturing on a remark, nor even hazarding an opinion on the topics we talked of, and silent where he ought to have been heard with advantage." "Is he bashful?" said Jack, with a lazy drawl. " I don't think it's that ; at least not altogether." " Supercilious, perhaps P' "Oh! certainly not," replied she, hastily. "The company in which he found himself is the best answer to that. He could not presume " "It was, then, downright fear," broke in Massingbred; "the terror that even clever men cannot shake off when thrown amongst a class they're unused to." " And very naturally so. I'm sure he must be puzzled to imagine why he is here. Indeed, we have only known him a few days back. It was one of Mr. Martin's sudden caprices to ask him to Cro' Martin. He fancied he ought to conciliate — I believe that's the phrase in vog^e — the borough people, and this young man's father is the chief of them." And now Lady Dorothea turned from the topic as one unworthy of further thought, and entered upon the more congenial theme of her -own high relatives and connexions iu England. It was strange enough that Massingbred' s remote alliance with her family was sufficient to induce an intimacy and familiarity with him, which years of mere acquaintanceship could not have effected. That his grand-aunt had been a Conway, and his great- grandfather's half-brother was married to a Jemyngham, were all a species of Freemasonry by which he was admitted at once to the privilege of confidential discussion. It was no small mortification to Massingbred to spend his evening in these genealogical researches ; he had seen the two young girls move off into an a.djoining room, from which at times the sounds of a piano, and of voices singing, issued, and was half mad with im- patience to be along with them. However, it was a penalty must be exacted,- and he thought that the toll once paid he had secured himself against all demands for the foture. Not caring to participate in the many intricacies of those family 176 THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIN. discussions wlierein the degrees of relationsHp of individuals seem to form the sole points of interest, we shall betake ourselves to the little blue drawing-room, where, seated at the piano together, the two young girls talked, while their iingers strayed along the notes as though affording a species of invblimtary accompaniment to their words. Nelligan, it is true, was present ; but, unnoticed by either, he sat apart in a distant comer, deep in his own brooding thoughts. Mary had only made Miss Henderson's acquaintance on that evening, but already they were intimate. It was, indeed, no common boon for her to obtain companionship with one of her own age, and who, with the dreaded characteristics of a governess, was in reality a very charming and attractive person. Miss Henderson sang with all the cultivated knowledge of a musician; and, while she spoke of foreign countries where she had travelled, lapsed at times into little snatches of melody, as it it were, illustrative of what she spoke. The delight Mary experienced in listening was unbounded ; and if at moments a sad sense of her own neglected education shtit through her mind, it was forgotten the next instant in her generous admiration. " And how are you, who have seen this bright and brilliant world you speak of," said Mary, "to sit quietly down in this unbroken solitude, where all the interests are of the humblest and more ordinary kind?" " Tou forget that I saw all these things, as it were, on sufferance," replied she. " I was not born to them, nor could ever hope for more than a passing glance at splendours wherein I livas not to share. And as for the quiet monotony here, an evening such as this, companion- ship like yours, are just as much above my expectations." " Oh, no, no !" cried Mary, eagerly. " Tou were as surely destined for a salon, as I was for the rude adventures of my own wayward life. Tou don't know what a strange existence it is." "I have heard, however!" said the other, calmly. " TeU me — do teU me — ^what you have been told of me, and don't be afraid of wounding my vanity ; for, I pledge you my word, I do think of myself with almost all the humility that I ought." " I have heard you spoken of in the cabins of the poor as their only friend, their coinforter, and their hope ; the labourer knows you as his succour — one by whose kind intei;vention he earns his daily bread ; their children love you as their own chosen protector." " But it's not of these things I'm speaking," said Mary, rapidly. " Do they not call me self-willed, passionate, sometimes imperious ?" " Tes ; and capricious at times !" said the other, slowly. Mary coloured, and her voice faltered as she said : THE MAETINS Or CEO MAETIIT. 177 " There, they were unjust. The impracticable tempers I have to deal with— the untutored minds and undisciplined natures— often lead me into seeming contradictions." "Like the present, perhaps," said Miss Henderson. " How ! the present ?" cried Mary. " That, while claiming the merit of humility, you at once enter upon a self-defence." " "Well, perhaps I am capricious !" said Mary, smUing. " And haughty f" asked the other, slowly. " I helieye so !" said Mary, with a degree of dignity that seemed to display the sentiment whUe confessing to it. : " I have never heard a heavier accusation against Miss Martiu than these," said shfe, " and I have lived with those who rarely scruple how to criticise their betters." Mary was silent and thoughtful : she knew not how to interpret the mingled praise and censure she had just listened to. " But tell me rather of •^^tusself," said M^ary, as though willing to turn the topic of conversation.j; " I should like to hear your story." " At thirteen years of age— -I'believe even a year later — I was the playfellow of the young gentlemaaa "■you see yonder," said Kate Henderson, " but who, to-night, seems incapable of remembering any- thing or anybody." " Of Mr. Nelligan ?" repeated Mary. And Joseph started as he heard his name, looked up, and again relapsed into reverie. " I'm not sure that we were not in love. I almost confess that I, was, when my father sent me away to France to be educated. I was very sad — very, very sad — at being taken away from home and thrown amongst strangers, with none of whom I could even interchange a word; and I used to sit and cry for hours by myself, and write sorrowful love-letters to "dearest Joseph," and then imagine the answers to them ; sometimes I actually wrote them, and would suffer agonies of anguish before I dared to ireak the seal and learn the contents. Meanwhile, I was acquiring a knowledge of French, and. knew a little of music, and used to sing in our choir at chapel, ani learned to believe the world was somewhat larger than I had hitherto thought it, and that St. Gudule was tuer than the mean little church at Oughterard; and worse still — for it was worse — that the sous- lieutenants and cadets of the Military College had a much more dashing, daring look about them than " poor Joseph ;" for so I now called him to myself, and gave up the correspondence soon after. " Eemember, Miss Martin, that I was but a child at this time— at least, I was little more than fourteen — but in another year I was a 178 THE HAETINS OF CEO' MAETITT. woman, in all the consciousness of certain attractions, clever enough, to tnow that I could read and detect thet weak points in others, and weak enough to fancy that I could always take advantage of them. This incessant spirit of casuistry, this passion for investigating the temper of those about you, and making a study of their natures for purposes of your own, is the essence of a convent life ; you have really little else to do, and your whole bent is to ascertain why Sister Agnes blushes, or why Beatrice fainted twice at the Angelus. The minute anatomy of emotions is a very dangerous topic. At this very moment I cannot free myself from the old habit ; and as I see young Mr. Nelligan there sitting with his head in his hand, so deep in thought as not to notice us, I begin to examine why is it he is thus, and on what is he now brooding ?" " And can you guess ?" asked Mary, half eagerly. " I could be certain, if I were but to ask him a question or two." " Pray do, then, if only to convince me of your skill." " But I must be alone, and that is scarcely possible — scarcely be- coming." " Let us contrive some way — think of something." ■" It is too late now ; he is about to leave the room," said Kate, cautiously. " How pale he looks, and how anxious his eye has be- come. I thought at first there was some constraint at meeting me here ; he feared, perhaps, — but no, that would be unworthy of him." She ceased, for Nelligan had now drawn nigh to where they sat, and stood as if trying to collect himself to say something. " Do^you sing, Mr. Nelligan ?" asked Kate. " Ko ; I am ignorant of music," said he, half abstractedly. " But you like it ?" asked Mary. " Tes, I believe I do — that is, it calms and quiets me. If I could understand it, it would do more." " Then why not understand it, since that is the way you phrase it?" asked Kate. " Bveiybody can be a musician to a certain de- gree of proficiency. There is no more ear required than you want to learn a language." " Then you .shall teach we," cried Mary, eagerly. Kate took up her hand and pressed it to her lips for a reply. " Foreigners — men, I mean — are all so well aware of this, that they cultivate music as a necessary part of education; few attain high eminence, but all know something of it. But somehow we have got to believe that cultivation in England must always tend to material profit. We learn this, that, and t'other, to be richer, or greater, or THE MAETUTS OF OEO' MAETHT. 179 higher:, but never to be more aceepfcable in society— more ^reeable or pleasanter company," " "We haven't time," said Nelligan, gravely. " 'Far what have we not time ? Do you mean we have no time to be happy?" cried Eepton, suddenly steppiog in amongst them. " Now, my dear young ladies, which of you will bid highest for the heart of an old lawyer— by a song ?" " It must be Miss Henderson," said Mary, smiling, " for I don't sing." " Not a ballad ? — not even one of the Melodies S" "Not even one of the Melodies," said she, sorrowfully. "Shame upon me for that 'even,'" said Eepton; "but you see what comes of surviving one's generation. I lived in an age when the ' Last Eose of Summer,' and the ' Harp that Once,' were classical as Homer's ' Hymns," but I have now faUen upon times when English ' music is estimated in the same category with BagUah cookery, and both deemed very little above barbarous. To be sure," added he, "it does seem very like a poetical justice for the slavish adherence of our education to Q-reek and Eoman literature, that our ladies should only sing to us in the languages of Italy or Germany." " 1 hope you would not imply that we are as little versed in these as great scholars are in the others ?" said Kate Henderson, alily. " Sharply said. Miss, and truthfally insiauated too I Not to atten- tion that there ia. courage in such a speech before Mr, NeUigan here." "Yes — very true — a just remark t" said Joseph, who oniyover- heard a reference to himself without understanding to what it alluded. And now a very joyous burst of laughter fcom the others atairtled him, while it covered him with confusion. " "We must make them sing, Nelligaaj," . said. Eepton, gaily, " They'll vanquish us in these tilting matches of word-fence.— Now, Miss Henderson, something very plaintive aad very sentimei^tal, to suit the tenderness of a feeling heart." " I'll singfor you with pleasure," said Kate. " "Will this suit you ?" And vdth a short prelude she sang one of those hrUliant little snatches of Venetian melody, which seem like the outburst of a sudden in- spiration — wild, joyoH^ floating as they are — wherein such is the ex- pression, that sounds usurp the place of language, and the mind is carried away by a dreamy fascination impossible to resist. "How often have I heard that on the Lida!" said Massiagbred, entering the room hastily ; " and what a glorious thing it ia !" 180 THE MAETDTS OF CEO' MAETIN. "Then you know tWa ?" said Kate, running her fingers over the notes, and warbling out another of the popular airs of the same class. " The last time I heard that," said Jack, musingly, "was one night when returning home from a late party, along the G-rand Canal at Venice. There is a single word at the «nd of each verse which should be uttered by a second voice. Just as I passed beneath a briUiantly-lighted salon, the sounds of this melody came floating forth, and as the stanza finished I supplied the 'refrain.' " " Tou ?" cried Kate, eagerly. " Tes ; but why do you ask ?" " Do you remember the exact spot ?" said she, not heeding his question. "As well as though I were there only yesterday." " Shall I tell you where it was ?" He waited, and she went on — " It was under the balcony of the Mocenigo Palace," " Why this is witchcraft," cried Jack ; " you are perfectly correct." " The bouquet that was thrown to you from the window fell into the water." " But I regained it. I have it atiU," cried he, more eagerly ; " and yours was the hand that threw it ?" She nodded assent. " How strange, is it not, that we should jneet here ?" He paused for a minute or two, and then said, " It was the Duchesse de Cour- ceUes lived there at the time ?" " Tes, we passed the winter in that Palace." " Miss Henderson was the companion of the young Princess," said Lady Dorothea, who had just joined the group, and experienced no slight shock at observing the tone of easy familiarity in which the conversation was conducted. But Massingbred seemed wonderfully little moved by the intelligence, for, drawing his chair closer to Kate's, he led her to talk of Venice and its life, till, imperceptibly as it were, the discourse glided into Italian ! What a dangerous Pree- masonry is the use of a foreign language, lifting the speakers out of the ordinary topics,' and leading them away to distant scenes and im- pressions, which, constituting a little world apart, give a degree of confidential feeling to intercourse. Massingbred would willingly have lent himself to the full enjoyment of this illusion, but Kate, with quicker tact, saw all the difficulties and embarrassment it would occasion, and under pretext of searching for some music, escaped at once from the spot. "How I envy you, dear girl," said Mary, following her, and THE MABTINS OF OBO' MAETIN. 1 81 passing her arm affectionately around her. "Wliat a happiness must it be to possess such gifts as yours, which, even in their careless exercise, are so graceful. Tell me frankly, is it too late for me to try " "You overrate me as much as you disparage yourself," said Kate, mildly ; " hut if you really will accept me, I will teach you the little that I inow, hut, ia return, will you make me your friend ?" Mary pressed the other's hand warmly within her own. " Here are some vows of everlasting friendship going forward, I'll be sworn," said old Eepton, stepping ia between them; "and you ought to have a legal opiaion as to the clauses — eh, young ladies, am I not right ?" " When was Mr. Eepton wrong ?" said Mary, laughing. "When he waited till his present age to fall in love!" said he, gaily. " But, seriously, what have you done with our young student ? Of all the woebegone faces I ever beheld, his was the very saddest, as he moved iato the large drawing-room a while ago. Which of you is to blame for this ?" "Wot guilty, upon my honour," said Mary, with mock solemnity. " I'm half afraid that our showy friend has eclipsed him in yowr eyes, as I own to you he has in mine, clever feUow that he is." " Aje you not charmed with yourself that you did not shoot him this morning?" said Mary, laughing. " I am sincerely gratified that he has not shot me, which, taking his pistol performance on the. same level with his other acquirements, was not so very improbable!" "There's your uncle stealing away to bed," said Eepton, "and fancying that nobody remarks him. Shall I be cruel enough to mar the project ? Martin — Martin — come here for a moment ; we want your opinion on a knotty point." " I know what it is," said Martin, smiling ; " the question under discussion is, ' Whether you or Mr. Massingbred were the more suc- cessful to-day ?' " " I think Mr. Massingbred may claim the prize," said Mary Martin, with a sly whisper ; " he made Lady Dorothea cry." " Ay," said Eepton, " but J made young Nelligan laugh !" And now the party broke up, Massingbred lingering a little be- hind to say something to Miss Henderson, and then betaking him- self to his chamber, well satisfied with his day, and the change it. had wrought in his fortunes. Perhaps a few passages from a letter that he, on that same night, penned to one of his friends in Dublin, will not be ill-timed as an exponent of his sentiments. The letter was 182 THU MAETEfTS OT CSO' MASIIlSr. written, directing 'certain articles of dress to be iforwarded to him at once, by coaick, amlcoiBitaimed these paiPagraphs : " You now know how I came here : the next thing is to tell you of the place itself. The house is large sund admiimbly ' montee' — abtm- dance of servants, weill drilled, and orderly. The master a nonentity, apparently; eaay-4empered and good-humoured; liking the quiet monotony of his humdrum life, and only asking that it may not be irrteriered with. His wife, a fine lady of the school of five-and-forty years ago— a nerrous terrorist about mob encroachments and iks democratic tendencies of the times — JasuHerai)ly tiresome oa gene- alogies and ' connexions,' and what many would call downright vulgar in the amount of her pretension. Oratilude— for I have the honour of being a favourite already — seals my lips against any fur- ther or harsher criticism. As for the niece, she is deradedly hand- some; a great deal of style about her too; and with a degree of — shall I call it daring ? for it is more like courage than any ether quality — that tells you she is the uncontrolled ruler over the wild regions and wild people around her. "With more of manner, she worald be very charming; but perhaps she is better inthe unfettered freedom of her own capricious independence : it certainly suits her to perfection. And now I should hare completed my icatalo^e, if it were not for the Grovemess. Ay, Harry, the Croverness! And just fancy, under this unimposing title, a dark-eyed, haugity-looldng girl — ^I don't think she can be above twenty or twenty-one — with a carriage and port that might suit an Archduchess of Austeia. She has travelled all over Europe — been everywhere — seen everything, and, cstranger again, everybody ; for she was what they style a com- panion. By Jove ! she must have been a very charming one; that is, if she liked it ; for if she did not, Hal ! ^At all events, here she is ; only having arrived the very day before myself; so that we are free to discuss the family, and compare notes together, in the most confidential fashion. " Of course I needn't tell you Jack Massingbred does not feU in love — the very phrase implies it must be beneath one — but I already see that if such a girl were a Lady Oatherine, or a Lady Agnes, with a faliher in the Upper House, and two brothers in the ' Lower,' her dowry anything you like above thirty thousand — that, in short, even Jack himself might exhibit the weakness of inferior mortals — ' for she is precisely one of those types that are ever looldng upward— a girl with a high ambition, I'll be sworn, and formed to make &e THE MABTIirS 01' CBO' MAETIN. 183 man, wbose fortunes slie stared, stand forward in the van and dis- tinguish himself. " These are our whole dramatis personcB, if I include an old Bar- rister, with a racy humour and a strong stock of Bar anecdotes ; and Toung NeUigan, the Medal man, whom you quizzed me so much for noticing in Duhlin. Tou were right then, Harry ; he is a low feUow, and I was wrong in ever thinking him. otherwise. I chanced upon his father's acquaintance rather oddly; and the son has not forgiven it. When we met here, yesterday, he fancied that we were to speak, and was actually rushing forward to shake hands with the most enthusiastic warmth ; but with that manner which you have often admired, and once encouraged, when you called me the ' Cool of the day,' I pulled him up dead short, stared, and passed on. At dinner, I managed to ignore him so utterly that everybody else fell into the trap, and he dined as a Tutor, or the Chaplain, or the Agent's son might — mingling his sighs with the soup, and sipping his claret in all dreariness. " Tou wiU see, even from these hasty lines, that there is enough here to interest and amuse ; food for observation, and opportunity for malice. What can a man want more ? The ' joint and the pickles.' They have asked me to stay, — they have even entreated; and so I mean to pass a week — perhaps two — ^here. I conclude that win give me enough of it : however, you shall hear frequently of my res gestce, and learn all that befals " Jack Massingbiied. « • • • ■ Vhen you pass that way, pray see what letters there may be lying for me in my chambers. If any of my father's — ^he writes in a large splashy hand — and the seal, two maces, saltierwise — ^for- ward them here. I am, or I shall soon be, in want of money ; and as I have overdrawn my aHowance already, I shall be obliged to issue bonds, bearing a certain interest. Can you recommend me to a safe capitalist ? — not Fordyce — nor Henniker — nor yet Sloan — with all of whom I have held dealings, mutually disagreeable. It is a sad reflection, that the stamp worth five shillings upon a piece of un- sullied paper, is absolutely valueless when the words ' Jack Massing- Jbred ' are inscribed beneath. Try, and, if you can, solve this curious problem. " At all events, write to me here : supply me freely with news, for I am supposed to be acquainted with all that goes on, socially and politically,' and I shall be driven to imagination if you do not store me with fact." 184 THE MAETIirS 0! CEO' MABTIN. CHAPTEE XVIII. STATECEAFT. It was a cabinet council; they were met in Lady Dorothea's boudoir, Martin and Mr. Eepton being summoned to her presence. A letter had that morning reached her Ladyship from a very high quarter ; the writer was the Marquis of Eeckington, a yery distant connexion, who had suddenly been graciously pleased, after a long interval of utter obliviousness, to remember that Lady Dorothea was his relative, and yet living! Whatever pride her Ladyship might have summoned to her aid to repel the slights or impertinences of the vulgar, she displayed a most Christian forgiveness as she broke the seal of an epistle from one who had left several of her own without answers, and even replied to her application for a Staff appointment for her-son, by a cold assurance that these were times when "nothing but fitness and superior qualifications entitled any man to advance- ment in the public service." Oh dear, were there ever any other times since the world was made ! Is not merit the only passport to place ? and high desert. and capacity the sole recommendation to favour? Of all the immense advantages of a representative govern- ment, is there any more conspicuous than the unerring certainty with which men of ability rise to eminence without other aid than their own powers ; and that, in a system like oxirs, family influence, wealth, name, connexions, and Parliamentary support, are just so much mere dross? If any one be incredulous of the virtue of public men, let him only ask for a place ; let him entreat his great friend — everybody has at least one great friend — mine is a Coroner — ^to make him a Junior Lord, or a Vice-Something, and see what the answer wiin)e. Polite, certainly ; nothing more so ; but what a rebuke to self-seeking ! — what a stern chastisement to the ignorant presmnption that places are awarded by means of favour, or that the public service is ever filled through the channels of private influence! Par from it. He is told that our age is an incorruptible one, that Ministers pass sleepless nights in balancing the claims of treasury clerks, and that Lord Chancellors suffer agonies in weighing the merits of barristers of six years' stand- ing. " "We have but one rule for our guidance : the best man in the best place." A high-sounding maxim, which it would be excessively THE MAETINS Or CEO' MAETIIT. 185 uncivil to disparage by asking what constitutes " a best man." Is he some unscrupulous partisan, who first gave his fortune, and after- wards his fame, to the support of a party ? Is he the indisputable disposer of three, or perhaps four, votes in the House? Is he a floating buoy to be anchored in either roadstead of polities, and only to be secured to either, for a consideration ? Is he the dangerous , confidant of some damaging transaction ? Or is he the deserter from a camp, where his treason may sow disafiection? These several qualifications have ere this served to make up "a best man;" and, strangely enough, are gifts which fit him for the Army, the Navy, the Home Service, or the Colonies. Let us turn from this digression, into wliich we have fallen half inadvertently, and read over some parts of Lord Eeckington's letter. It was somewhat difficult to decipher, as most great men's letters are, and displayed in more than one place the signs of correction. Although it had been, as we have said, a very long time since any correspondence had occurred between the " cousins," his Lordship resumed the intercourse as though not a week had intervened. After a little playful chiding over the laxity of her Ladyship's writing habits — ^three of hers had been left unreplied to ! — and some of that small gossip of family changes and events, never interesting to any but the direct actors, his Lordship approached the real topic of his letter ; and, as he did so, his writing grew firmer, and larger, and bolder, like the voice of a man who spoke of what truly concerned him : " I thought, my dear Dora, I had done with it aU. I flattered myself that I had served my time in public capacities, and that neither the Crown nor its advisers could reasonably call upon me for further sacrifices. You know how little to my taste were either. the cares or ambitions of office. In fact, as happens to most men who are zealous for the public service, my official career imposed far more of sacrifices than it conferred privileges. "Witness the occasions in which I was driven to reject the claims of my nearest and dearest friends, in compliance with that nervous terror of imputed favouritism so fatal to all in power ! I thought, as I have said, that they had no fair claim upon me any longer. I asked nothing; indeed, many thought I was wrong there. But so it was, I quitted office without a pension, and without a ribbon ! It was late on a Saturday evening, however, when a Cabinet messenger arrived at ' Beech Woods' with an order for me to repair at once to "Windsor. I was far from well ; but there was no escape. Immediately on arriving I was summoned to the presence, and before I had paid my respects, his Majesty, who was much excited, said, 'Eeckington, we want you. Tou 186 THE MAETINS OE CBO' MAETUr. must go to Ireland I' I believe I started, for lie went on: 'I'll have no refusal. There is but one settlement of this question that I will accept of. Tou shall go to Ireland !' The King then entered with considerable warmth, but with aU his own remark- able perspicuity, into a detail of late changes and events in the Cabinet. He was excessively irritated with B , and spoke of Gr as one whom he never could forgive. He repeatedly said, 'I have been duped — I have been tricked;' and, in fact, exhibited a degree of emotion which, combined with the unbounded frankness of his manner towards me, affected me almost to tears. Of course, my dear Dora, personal considerations ceased at once to have any hold upon me, and I assured his Majesty that the remainder of my life was freely at his disposal, more than requited, as it already was, by the precious confidence he had, that day, reposed in me. I must not weary you with details. I accepted and kissed hands as Yioeroy on Monday morning ; since that I have been in daily communication with G' i who still remains in office. "We have discussed Ireland from monring to night, and I hope and trust have at last come to a thorough understanding as to the principles which must guide the future Administration. These I reserve to talk over with you when we meet ; nor do I hesitate to say that I anticipate the very greatest benefit in the fruits of your long residence and great powers of observation of this strange people." The letter here went off into a somewhat long-winded profession of the equal-handed Justice which was to mark the acts of the Administration. It was to be, in feet, a golden era of equity and fairness ; but, •somehow, as codicils are occasionally foimd to revoke the body of the testament, a very sus- picious little paragraph rather damaged this glorious conclusion. " I don't mean to say, my dear Ooz, that we are to neglect our followers — the <3-overnment which could do so never yet possessed, never deserved to possess, able support — ^but we must discriminate — we must distinguish between the m-ere partisan who trades on his principles, and that high-minded and honourable patriot who gives his convictions to party. "With the noisy declaimer at public meetings, the mob-orator or pamphleteer, we shall have no sym- pathy. To the worthy country gentleman— independent by fortune as well as by principle — extending the example of a blameless life to a large neighbourihood — aiding us by his counsels as much as by the tender of his political support — to him, I say, we shall show our gratitude, not grudgingly nor sparingly, but freely^ openly, and largely. Tou now know in what ranks we wish to see our fiaends, THE MAETINS OP CEO' MAETDf. 187 in the very van of which array I reckon upon yourself." "We shall again skip a little, since here the writer diverged into a slight dis- sertation on the indissoluble ties of kindred, and the links, stronger than adamant, that bind those of one blood together. After a brief but rapid survey of the strong opposition which was to inset them, lie w«nt on : " Of course all will depend upon our Parliamentary support ; without a good working majority we cannot stand, and for this must we use all our exertions." A few generalities on the com- fort and satisfaction resulting from " safe divisions " ensued, and then came the apparently careless question, " What can ymu do for ns ? Yes, my dear Dora, I repeat, what can you do for us ? "What we need, is the support of men who have courage enough to merge old prejudices and old convictions in their full trust in us ; who, with the intelligence of true statesmanship, will comprehend the altered con- dition of the country, and not endeavour to adapt the nation to Hhew views, but rather their views to the nation. In a word, a wise and liberal policy, not based upon party watchwords and antiquated symbols, but on the prospect of seeing Ireland great and united. ISTow, will Martin come to our aid in this wise ? He ought to be in Parliament for his County. But if he be too indolent, or too happy at home, whom can he send us ? And again, what of the borough ? They tell me that Kilcoek, seeing his father's great age, will not stand where a contest might be expected, so "that you must neces- sarily be prepared with another." Again the writer launched out upon the happiness he felt at being able to appeal thus candidly and freely to his own " dearest kins- woman," inviting her to speak as frankly in return, and to believe that no possible difference of political opinion should ever throw a cold- ness between those whose veins were filled with the same blood, and whose hearts throbbed with the same affections. Her Ladyship's voice slightly faltered as she read out the concluding paragraph, and when she laid the letter down, she turned away her head and moved her handkerchief to her eyes. As for Martin, he sat still and motionless, his gaze firmly directed to Eepton, as though seeking in the impassive lines of the old lawyer's face for some clue to guide and direct him. " Tou use'd to be a Tory, Martin ?" said Eeption, after a pause. ^'Tes, to be sure, we were always with that party." " "Well, there's an end of them now," said the other j " what's to follow and fill their place, my Lord Eeckington may be able to say, I cannot. I only know that they exist no longer, and the great question 188 THE MAETIirS OF OEO' MAETIIT. for you — at least one of the great questions — ^is, have you spirit enough to join a travelling party without knowing whither they're journeying?",' "And what may be the other great question, Sir?" asked Lady Dorothea, haughtily. "The other is, what will it cost in money? — ay, my Lady, in money — because any other outlay will not require searches nor title- deeds, loans, mortgages, nor bond-debts." " To contest the County would cost ten thousand pounds — Seanlan says so," rejoined Martin. " And the Borough ?" asked Eepton. "A few hundreds would suffice; at least they have done so hitherto." " Then remain content with the cheap luxury of the Borough," said Eepton. " Tou don't want anything from these people, Martin. Tou don't covet a Peerage — you wouldn't accept a Baronetcy. Tou remember what Langton said, when told that the King was going to give him ' the Red Hand.' ' If I have been unfortunate enough to incur his Majesty's displeasure, I must "deplore it deeply, but surely my innocent son should not be included in the penalty of my offence. Therefore, in all humility, I beseech and entreat the Eoyal favour to commute the sentence into Knighthood, so that the disgrace may die with me.'," " There were times when .such insolence would have cost him dearly," said her Ladyship, sternly. " I am not sorry that we don't live in them, my Lady," replied Eepton. " But to return : as I was saying, you ask for no favours ; why should you expend ten or fifteen thousand pounds to advocate views of whose tendencies you know nothing, and principles whose very meaning you are in ignorance of?" " I anticipated every word of this," said Lady Dorothea. " I told Mr. Martin this morning, almost literally, the exact advice you'd proffer." " I am proud that your Ladyship should have read me so justly," said Repton, bowing. An insolent toss of her head was the significant answer to this speech. " But were I to spfeak my mind more candidly, I'd even say, let the Borough go after the County; and for this plain reason," said Eepton, speaking with increased firmness and animation, "you neither seek for the ambition of political life, nor want to make a trade of its casualties." THE MAETINS OF CEO' MAETIIT. 189 " Is it not possible, Sir, that we might desire the natural influence that should arise out of our station in society and our rank in this county ?" said Lady Dorothea, proudly. " And your Ladyship has it, and can never lose it. Having a vote or two to throw into a Ministerial division would never repay you for the anxieties and cares of contested elections. Ah, my Lady, what do ifov, care for the small flatteries of London attentions." " We should have these. Sir, as our right," broke she in. " To be sure you would, and much happiness do I hope they would confer," added he, ia a tone only overheard by Martin ; then con- tinued aloud : " As to the patronage at your disposal, would you take a present of it ? Whom do you want to make Tide-waiters, Grangers, Barony Constables, or even Clerks of the Peace ? Of aU men living, who is so free of hungry dependents or poor relations !" " I must say. Sir, that you reduce the question of political support to a very intelligible one of material benefit," said her Ladyship, with a sneer ; " but, just for argument sake, imagine that there should be such a thing as a little principle in the matter." "I'm going to that part of the case, my Lady," said Eepton. " Martin ia a Tory ; now, what are the men coming into power ? I wish you coxdd tell me. Here, for instance, is one of their own journals" — and he opened a newspaper and ran his eye over the columns — " ay, here it is : ' With regard to Ireland, Lord Eeckington's appointment as Viceroy is the best guarantee that the rights of Irish- men of every persuasion and every denomination will be respected.' So far so good ;" and he read on in a low, humdrum voice for some minutes, tiU he came to the following : " ' No privileged class will any longer be tolerated — no exceptional loyalty admitted as an excuse for insufferable oppression and tyranny — the wishes and benefits of the people — the real people of that country, will at length enter into the views of an Administration, and Ireland as she is — not the possible Ireland of factious enthusiasts — be governed by men determined to rediess her grievances and improve her capacities.' Now, Martin, you want no augur to interpret that oracle. They are going to rule you by the people ; but the people must be represented. Now, who represents them ? Not the demagogue — he is merely their tool ; the real representative is the Priest — don't laugh, my dear friend, at such a shadowy possibility, the thing is nearer than you dream of. No Administration ever yet tried to govern Ireland except by intimida- tion ; the Beresforda were undertakers once, and they did their work very well, let me teU you— they advanced their Mends and whipped their enemies; and what with peerages for one set, and pitched caps for 190 THE MABTINa OS C3B0' MAETIH". tte otter, they ruled Ireland. Then there eame the, Orangemen, who rather blundered their work j there were too imany heads amongst them, and the really clever fellowa were overborne by brawling, talk- ative fools,, who always had the masses with them beeaxia© they were fools. Still they ruled Ireland. They preserved the country to the King's crown ; and I say once more, that was no small matter. And now we have arrived at a new era :. we have obtainsd Emancipation, and must look out for another stamp of administrators, and I see nothing for it but the Priests. Of course you, and every man of your station, sneer at the notion of being diefcated to by Father Luke, in the greasy leather small-clothes and dirty black boote — only, himself, a cottier once removed — a plant of the wild growth of the fields, cultivated, howeveo^ ia the hotbeds of Maynooth — a forcing-house whose fruits you are yet to taste of 1 Sneer away, Martin ; but my name ia not Val Eepton if those men do not rule Ireland yet ! Ay, Sir, and rule it in such a fashion as your haughty Beresfords, and Tottenhams, and TiadaUs never dreamed of! They'll treat with the Grovernment on equal terms — so much, for so much, — and, what' Sf more, it won't be higgling for a place, here, or a peerage, there ; but they'U have the price paid down in hard legislative coin — Acts of Parliament, Sir, — ^privileges fSsr themselves and their order, — benefits to ' the Church,' — and, when nothing better or more tempt- ing offers, insults and slights to their antagonists. Ton, and all like yon, will be passed over as if yon never existed : the Minister will not need you.: you'll be so many general officers, on the retired list^ and only remarked when you aweH the crowd at a levee." " So, Sir, according to this special prediction of yours, we have nothing left us but to live on our estates, enjoy what we can of our fortunes, and leave the interests of the nation to those our inferiors in ranJi, station, and. property ?"^ "Such a period as your Ladyship has pictamred forth — a little strongly, perhaps — ^ia before you^ "Whether the inteorval be destined to be long or short, wiU, in great measure, depend upon yoMrsetves." " That agrees with what Scanian said the other day," said Martin. " Scanian !" echoed her Ladyship, with most profound conftempfc; " "Who is this Scanian ?" asked Eepton. " There ho comes, to answer for himself," said Martin. " The fellow drives neatly; see how cleverly he swept round that sharp turn ! He may be ' at fault' about the woild of polities^ but, wy word foB it I he is a rare judge of a hack." " And, now that you suggest it," said Septon, musingly, " what an instinctive ahrewdness there is on every subject — I dont care what THE MAETnrS OF CBO' MASTIH. 191 it is — about fellows that deal in horseflesh. The praefcice of buying and selling, searching out flaws, here, detectiag defects, there, gives a degree of suspectful sharpness in aU. transactions ; besides that, really none but a naturally clever fellow ever graduates in the stable. Ton smile, my Lady, but some of our very first men have achieved the triumphs of the turf." " Shall we have Scanlan in and hear the news ?" asked Martin. " Not here. If you please, you may receive him ia the library, or your own room." " Then, come along, Eepton. We can resume this affair in the afternoon, or to-morrow." And, without waiting for a reply, he passed his arm within the other's and led him away. " Tou have been too abrupt with her, Eepton ; you have not made due allow- ances for her attachment to family influences," said he, in a whisper, as they went along. Eepton smiled half contemptuously. " Oh, it's all very easy for you to laugh, my dear fellow, but, trust me, there's nothing to be done with my Lady iu that fashion." " Turn the flank— eh ?" said the old Lawyer, slUy. " Ah, Martin, don't teach me how to deal with humanity. If you have not the courage to tell your wife that your estate cannot bear fresh encum- brances, new loans, and new debts " "Hush!" said Martin, cautiously. " Then, I say, let me prevent the casualty, that's all." " How are you, Scanlau ?" said Martin, as the attorney came, bowing and smiUng, forward to pay his respects. " My friend, Mr. Eepton, wishes to make your acquaintance." " I have the- honour of being, known to Mr. Eepton already, Sir, if he has not forgotten me." "Eh — how? where?" cried the Lawyer, sharply. " In Eeeves versus Dockery and another, Sir, in Hilary, 24. It was J supplied the instructions — — " " To be sure — perfectly right. Maurice Scanlan ; isn't that the name ? Tou did the thing well, Sir ; and if we failed, we retreated without dishonour." " That was a grand shot you fired at the Bench, Sir, when aU was over," said Scanlan. " I don't suppose they ever got such a com- plete ' set down' before." ' "I forget it," said Eepton, but with a bright twinkle of his eye which more than contradicted his words. " Then, Sir, it's more than their Lordships ever will," said Scanlan. "The Chief Baron it was," said he, addressing Martin, "that over- 192 THE MAETINS OP CEO' MAETIIT. ruled every objeetion made by CoimsellorEepton, and at last declared that he wouldn't hear any more citations whatsoever. ' But I have a stronger case still,'my Lord,' says the Counsellor. * I'll not hear it, Sir,' said the Court. ' It is in Crewe and Pust, Term Eeports, page 1438.'.. " ' I don't care where it is. Sir,' was the answer. " ' In a charge delivered by Lord Eldon ' " ' Oh, let -us hear my- Lord Eldon,': said Humridgej the Puisne Judge, who was rather ashamed of the Chief Baron's- severity. 'Let. us" hear my Lord Eldon.' ; ;- ■ . J -" '■ Here it is, my Lords,' said the Counsellor, opening- the volume, and laying his.hand upon the page, 'Crewe and Fust's Pleas of the Crown, page M38. My Lord Eldon-sgys : "I may here observe theCourfcs^df Law in Ireland sme , generally wrong! The Court of Exchequer is always wrong !" ' " Eepton tried to smother his own delighted laugh at the remi- niscence, but aU in vain, it burst from him long and joyously ; and as he shook Scanlan's hand, he^said, " The incident loses nothing by your telling, Sir ; you have done it admirable justice." " Ton make me very proud indeed. Counsellor," said Scanlan, who really did look overjoyed at the speech. "Have you any news for us, Scanlan f" said Martin, as they entered the Library. " Tes, Sir ; the Ministry is out." " We know that already, man !" "And the Marquis of Eeckington comes here as Lord-Lieutenant." " That we know also." " Colonel Massingbred to be Chief Sec " " Moore Massingbred !" cried both in a breath. " Tes, Sir ; he that was a Treasury Lord." "Are you quite sure of this, Scanlan ?" asked Martin. " I had it from Groves, Sir, at the Castle, yesterday morning, who told me there would be an immediate dissolution ; and showed me a list of Government candidates." " Tou may talk them aU over together, then," said Mai-tin, " for I'm heartily tired of politics this morning." And, so saying, he left them. THE MAETINS OF OEO' MAETIN. 193 CHAPTEE XIX. A STUDIO. It is one of the most inestimable privileges of Art, tliat amidst all tte cares and contentions of the worid, amidst strife, and war, and carnage, its glorious realm is undisturbed, its peace unbroken, and its followers free to follow their own wayward fancies, without let or hinderance. Tour great Practical Intelligences — your men of Com- mittees, and Com, and EaUroads, and Ship-canals — sneer at the fictitious life, for so does it seem to them, of the mere painter or musician. They have a sort of pitying estimate for capacities only exercised upon the ideal, and look down with a very palpable con- tempt upon those whose world is a gallery or an orchestra. After all, this division of labovir is a wise and happy provision, carrying with it many and varied benefits, and making of that strange edifice of man- kiad a far more pleasing and harmonious structure than we should otherwise have seen it. The imaginative is to the actual, in the world of active life, what flowers are to nutritious herbs and roots. It is the influence that adorns, elevates, and embellishes existence. That such gifts have been .confided to certain individuals is in itself a sufficient evidence, just as we see in the existence of flowers, that pleasure has its place assigned in the grand scheme of creation, and that the happiness which flows from gratified sense has not been denied us. In that petty world which lived beneath the roof of Cro' Martin Castle, all the eager passions and excitements of political intrigue were now at work. My Lady was full of plans for future greatness ; Repton was scheming, and suggesting, and thwarting everybody in turn ; and even Martin himself, engulphed in the "Maelstrom" of the crisis, was roused into a state of semi-preparation that amounted to a condition of almost fever. As for Massingbred, whatever he really did feel, his manner affected a most consummate indifference to all that went forward ; nor did the mention of his father's appointment to high office elicit from him anything beyond a somewhat contemptuous opinion of the new party in power. While, therefore, secret councils were held, letters read and written, conferences conducted in every room, one little space was devoid of all these embarrassments and anxieties, and that was an oval chamber, lighted from the top, and originally destined for a summer ball-room, but now appropriated to o lS*a THE MABTINS: CW GEO*' MMftTUC Mr. Crow's use for the completion of tie Grand Historical, ■whicK had lately been transferred from Kilkieran'' to its placp there. Thei' iinlucky masterpiece was doomed to many a difficulty.- Thfe great events in prospect had totally banished all, t^ughts of " Art" from Lady Dorothea's mind. The Ml of a recent 'Administration was a far more imminent circumstance than, the abdication of a King a few centuries back. Martin of course had enough on his head, without the cares of mioctroyalty. Mary w:aB ojerwhielmed wifeh ocEBf ations : the- floods, aiad a, threatened fiimine were casualties, not to be oTer- looked, and she was absent every day , fiiom daiwa. to late night ; while, to/ GO()!Q{)]^te the Bat of defaulters, Toung Neili^n— the future Priaoe of Orange ©£ the pifitare — ^waagojiMj Mem. deplore their past youth, their bygone buoyancy o£ heart,, their old' loves and extinct friendships, but of aU departed pleasttrea^ there is a peculiaa; goigpanoy abput one, and that is an artist's grief over a " lost sitter." "Sou Ladie* and Grentlemen whose thaxmbs ha'^e never closed, on a. palette,, nor whose fingers ham never Mt the so£t ia- fluenee of varnish^ may smile at, such a sorrow, but talse my word, for it, it. is a real and. taagiW-Ofaffliction. The waviug locks^tbe noble bjrow, the deep square orbita, and the flnely-eut chin, are bust the subtle Buggjestions out of which inspira- tions are begotten, and poetic visions nurtured. The graceful bearing and the noble port, the tender melancholy or the buoyant gladness, have each iu turn struck some chord of secret feeling iathe aitist'a breastj revealing to him new ideas of beauty, and imparting that creative power which displays itself in new combinations. Poor Simmy Crow was not a Titian, nor a Vandyke, but unhappily the sorrows of genius are very often experienced by those who are not, gifted with its greatness, ajid, the, humble- aspirant of exceUence can catch every malady to which the triumfhant in ail the wild enthusiasm of Ms powers is exposed.. He sat down before his canvas, as some general might have done before a fortified, town, which had resisted all his. efforts of attack. He was depressed and discouraged. The upper pact of the young' student's head was dready half, firdahad, and there was enough done to impart a kind of promise of success,, that glorious vista which opens itself so often in imagination to those whose world is but their own fancy. He half thought he could finish it feom memory,, but be&re he had proceeded many manutes, he laid down the brush iu despair. It seemed like a fatality that something must always, interpose to bar the road to success^ One time it was sickness,, then, it was poverty, a disgarsging criticism had even done it ; and now, when none of these threatened, there THE HABTIITS OE OBO' MAETllf. 395^ arose a new impediment. "Ah! Simmj, Simmy," he exclaimed alou4> " you were bom under an unMndLy planet. That's the secret of it all!" ' V ^* " I confess I cannot concur in that opinion," said a' low, soft voice behind him. He started up and beheld Kate Henderson/iwho, leaning on the back of a chair, continued to gazre steadfastly at the canvas, perfectly regardless of his astonishment. " There is a great deal to admire in that picture !" said she, as though talking to hersdf.. Simmy crept stealthily back and stationed himself behind her,, as if to hear her remarks, while' viewing the picture from the same point. "Touhave grouped your figures admirably," continued she, now addressiDg him, "and youE management of the light shows a study of Eembrandt." " Very true. Ma'am — ^Mias,. I mean. I have eopied.nearly all his great pieces." " And the drapery — that robe of the King's — ^teUa me that you have studied another great master of colour ; am I right, Sir, in saying Paul Veronese E" Simmy Crow's face glowed tiU. it became crimsoay while his eyes sparkled with intense delight. " Oh dear me !" he exclaimed, " isn't it too much happiness to hear this, and only a minute ago I was in black despair I" " Mine is very humble criticism, Sir^ but aa I have seen good pic- tures •" " Where ? . In the Gralleries abroad ?" broke in Grow, hurriedly. " AJl over Germany and Italy. I tcavelled with those who really eared for and understood Art But to come back to yours — -that head ia a noble study." " And that's exactiy what I'm grieving over ; he's gone," « Young Mr. Nelligan ?' ' " Himself; he started this morning for Oughterard." "But probably to return in a day or two." Crow looked stealthily around to see if he were not likely to be overheard, and then, approaching Kate, said in a whisper, "I don't think he'U. ever cross the doors again." " How so ? has he received any offence ?" "1 can't make out what it is," said Simmy, with a puzzled look, " but he came to my room late last night, and sat down without say- ing a word ; and at last, when I questioned him if he were iU, he said suddenly, " ' Have you found, Mr. Crow, that in your career as an artist, you haTO- been: able to withdraw yourself sufficiently from the orc^naiy o2 196 THE MAETINS Or OEO' MAETIN. events of life as to make up a little world of your own, wherein you lived indifferent to passing incidents ?' " ' Tes,' said I, ' I have, whenever I was doing anythiiig really worth the name.' " ' And at such times,' said he again, ' you cared nothing, or nest to nothing, for either the flatteries or the sarcasms of those around you?' " ' I couldn't mind them,' said I, ' for I never so much as heard them.' "' Exactly what I mean,' said he, rapidly. 'Intent upon higher ambitidns, you were above the petty slights of malice or envy, and with your own goal before you, were steeled against the minor casual- ties of the journey. Then why should not I also enjoy the immunity ? Can I not summon to my aid a pride like this, or am I to be dis- couraged and disgraced to my own heart by a mere impertinence ?' " I stared at him, not guessing what he could mean. ",' Bather quit the spot with which it is associated — quit it for ever,' muttered he to himself, as he paced the room, while his face grew deathly pale. " ' As for me,' said I, for I wanted to say something — anything, in short— just to take his attention a little off of himself, ' whenever the world goes hard vrith me, I just step into my studio, lock the door, and sit down before afresh canvas. I throw in a bit of brown, with a dash of bluish grey over it — half sky, half atmosphere, and I daub away till .something like an effect — maybe a sunset, maybe a sullen- looking sea-shore, maybe a long, low prairie swell rises before-me. I don't try for details, I don't even trace an outline, but just throw in an effect here and there, and by good luck it often comes right, in some fine harmony of colour, that's sure to warm up my heart and cheer my spirits ; for, as there are sounds that, swelling up, fill the whole nature of a man with ecstasy, there are combinations of colour and tint that enter the brain by the eye, and just produce the same sense of delight.' " "And how did he accept your consolation?" asked she, smiling good-naturedly. " I don't well know if ha listened to me," said Simmy, sorrowfully ; " for aU he said afterwards was, " ' Well, Mr. Crow, good-by. I hope you'll come to see me when you visit Dublin. You'll easily find out my chambers in the College.' " Of course I said ' I'd be delighted ;' and there we parted." "Poor fellow!" said Kate, but in an accent so peculiar it would THE MAETINS OF CBO' MABTIN. 197 have been very difficult to pronounce whether the words were of kindness or of disparagement, v " And your Prince, Mr. Crow ?" said she, changing her tone to one of real or affected interest ; " what's to be done now that Mr. Nelligan has left us]?" " I'm thinking of making a background figure of him. Miss," said Simmy. " Burnt sienna reduces many an illustrious individual to an obscure position." " But why not ask Mr'. Massingbred . to take his place — ^you've seen him ?" " Only passing the window,- Miss. He is a handsome young man, but that same look of fashion, the dash of style about him, is' exactly what destroys the face for me. I feel I could make nothing of it; I'd be always thinking of him standing inside the plate-glass wiridow of a London Club, or cantering along the alleys of the Park, or sipping his iced lemonade at Tortoni's. There's no poetizing your man of gold chains and einbroidered waistcoats !". " I half suspect you are unjust in this case," said she, with one of her dubious smiles. "I'm only saying what the- effect is, upon myself, Miss," said Crow. "But why not make a compromise between the two ?" said she. " I believe the great painters — Vandyke, certainly — rarely took the studies from a single head. They caught a brow here, and a mouth there, harmonising the details by the suggestions of their own genius. !N"ow, what if preserving all. this here" — and she pointed to the head and eyes — " you were to fill up the remainder, partly from imagina- tion, partly from a study." And as she spoke she took the brush from his hand, and .by a few light and carieless -touches imparted a new character to the face. " Oh, go on; that's admirable^that's glorious!" exclaimed Crow, wild with delight. " There is no necessity to lose the expression of haughty sorrow in the eye and brow," continued she ; " nor does it iuterfCTe with the passing emotion he may be supposed unable to control, of proud contempt for that priestly influence which has dominated over the ambition of a king." And now, as though carried away by the theme, she continued to paint as rapidly as she spoke, while Crow busied himself in preparing the colours upon the palette. "My hardihood is only intended to encourage you, Mr. Crow," said she, " by showing that if one like me can point the road, the journey need not be deemed a difficidt one." As she retired some 198 THE MAETINS OE CEO' MABTIS. pacsEB to eomfcempMe tHe picture, she Basrally ^aaaced thromgH a law glass door which opened upon the lawn, and vikeix, umderiihe shelter •of a leafy beech, a fomtg bommtry ^1 was standings her blue cloth .cloak, with the hood thrown OTer her head, gave a certam picturesque character to the figure, which nearer inspection more than isonfirmed, for her features were singularly fine, and her large, soft, blue eyes beamed with a genMe learnestaess, that showed Kate she was liere with a purpose. Opening the door at once, Kate KendeiFBon approached her, and asked what she wanted. "With an air of half pride, half shame, the country girl drew herself Tip, and stared full and steadfastly at the speaker, and so continued *iU Kate repeated her question. " Sure you're not Miss Mary ?" replied she, by questioning her in turn. "No, but if I can be of any use to you " "I don't think you can," broke she in with a manner almost Tiaughty ; •" it's sonaebody else I'm wanting." " If you wish to see Miss Martin, I'll go and fetch her," said Kabe. •" I didn't say it was her I wanted to see," replied siie, with a ealm and almost severe composure. "Maybe her Ladyship?" asked Kate, fer more interested ihan repelled by the -&tber'iB manner. " It's none of them at all," rejoined she. " I came here to speak to one that I know myself,^' added she, aftra a long pause ; "and if he isn't gone, I waait to see him.^' " Oh, I think I can guess now," said Kate, smiling. " Kis the CounseEor from Dublin, Mr, Eepton." " It is no such thing," said the gid, promptly. " Then it must be Mr. Crow here." An indigaant toss of the head gave the negative to this surmise. "I have gone through all our names here," said Kate 5 "sad, ex- cept Mr. Massingbred " " And there's the very one I want," said the gid, boldly- " Step in here and rest yourself, and I'll send for him," said Kate ; and with sueh persuasive courtesy were the wouds utteired, that almost, as it seemed, against her very wiU, the girl foUowed her iato the studio and sat down. While Mr. Crow proceeded in search of Massingbred, Kate HemdersMi, resuming brush and palebfce, returned to her painting ; not, however, on the grand- canras of the " Hia- toricai," but dexterously interposing a pieoe xj£ iresh board, «fae .THE MABiDms OF jCBO' MAITIK. 199 seized tike '^^poriniaifry to sketet tlie beaiitiful head^hen be&re Iter, ■wMle Occupying the-^lfe attention with the dbjects laroimd. NotwdtliBtaniding her intense astbnistment at all ste saw, the country girl never uttered a word, nor vouchsafed a single question as to the paintings ; she even tried to moderate the eager pleasure they afforded by an endeavour not to admire them. Touched by the native pridie of this struggle — ^for struggle it was — ^tbe features had assumed a look of haughty composure that weM became the cha- racter of her beauty, aind Eate (caught up the expression so rapidly, that her sketch was already weH-nigh completed when JVEassingbred entered. " My dear Mistress Joan," cried he, shaking her cordially by both, hands, " how glad . I am to see you again. It was but this very -moment I was iiigmiring how I could go over and pay you a visit." Hurriedly as these words were uttered, and in all the appauent fervour of hearty ginceiity, they were accompanied by a short ^ance at Kate Henderson, who was about to leave the room, that plainly said, " Eemain whfere you are, there is no mystery here." "I thank yer Honer kindly," said Joan Landy, "but it's no good coming, he isn't theie." " Not there ! — how and why is that ?" " Sure yoM ought to know better than me" said ahe, fisiaig her large eyes full upon him. " Te left the house together, and a^jiever came back since." " Oh, perhaps I can guess," said Jack, pausing for a moment to reflect. " He migkt have deemed it safer to keep out of the way for a day or two." " It's no good deceivin' me. Sir," said she, risizig from ler seat ; " tell me the whole truth. Where is he ?" " That is really more than I can say, my dear Mistress Joan. "We parted in Oughterard." " And you never saw him after ?" " Never, I assure you." "And you never tried to see him? — ^you never asked what became of him?" "I conduded, indeed I was certain, that lie returned heme," said Jack, but not without some confusion, "Ay, that was enough for you," said she, angrily, "if jfou weTe a poor labourin' man, you'd not desert him that had yon under Ms roof and gave you the best he iad ; but because ye're a gentle- maji " 200 THE MAETINS OF CBO' MAETIN. " It is precisely for that reason I can't suffer you to think so meanly of me," cried Jack. " Now just hear me for one moment, and you'll see how unjust you've been." And, drawing his chair closer to hers, he narrated in a low and whispering voice the few events of their morning at Oughterard, and read for her the short note Magennis had written to him. " And is that all P" exclaimed Joan, when he concluded. " All, upon my honour !" said he, solemnly. " Oh, then, wirra ! wirra !" said she, ringing her hands sorrowfully, " why did I come here ? — why didn't I bear it all patient ? But sure my heart was bursting, and I could not rest nor sleep, thinking of what happened to him ! Oh, yer Honor knows well what he is to me .'" And she covered her face with her hands. " You have done nothing wrong in coming here," said Jack, con- solingly. "Not if he never hears of it," said she, in a voice tremulous with fear, " That he need never do," rejoined Jack ; " though I cannot see why he should object to it. But come, Mrs. Joan, don't let this fret you ; here's a young lady will tell you, as I have, that nobody could possibly blame your natural anxiety." " What would a young lady know about a poor creature like me ?" exclaimed Joan, dejectedly. " Sure, from the day she's born, she never felt what it was to be all alone and friendless !" " Ton little guess to whom you say that," said Kate, turning round and gazing on her calmly; "but if the balance were struck this minute, take my word for it, you'd have the better share of fortune." Jack Massingbred's cheek quivered slightly as he heard these words, and his eyes were bent upon the speaker with an intense meaning. Kate, however, turned haughtily away from the gaze, and coldly re- minded him that Mrs. Joan should have some refreshment after her long walk. "No miss — no yer Honer ; many thanks for the same," said Joan, drawing her cloak around her, " I couldn't eat a bit— my heart's heavy inside me. I'll go back now." Kate tried to persuade her to take something, or at least to rest a little longer, but shS was resolute, and eager to return. "Shall we bear you company part of the way, then?" said Jack, with a look of half entreaty towards Kate." " I shall be but too happy," said Kate, while she turned the nearly- completed sketch to the wall, but not so rapidly as to prevent Mas- singbred's catching a glimpse of it. THE MAETINS OP CEO' MAETIIT. 201 " How lite !" exclaimed he, but only in a whisper audible to him- self. " I didn't know that this, also, was one of your accomplishments.' ' A little laugh and a saucy motion of the head was all her reply, while she went in search of her bonnet and shawl. She was back again in a moment, and the three now issued forth into the wood. Por all Jack Massingbred's boasted "tact," and his assumed power of suiting himself to his company, he felt very ill at ease as he walked along that morning. " His world" was not that of the poor country girl at his side, and he essayed in yaia to find some topic to interest her ; not so £ate Henderson. "With all a woman's nice perception, and quite without effort, she talked to Joan about the country and the people, of whose habits she knew sufficient not to betray ignorance ; and although Joan felt at times a half suspicious distrust of her, she grew at length to be pleased with the tone of easy familiarity used towards, her, and the absence of anything bordering on superiority. Joan, whose instincts and sympathies were all with the humble class from which she sprung, described in touching language the suffering condition of the people, the terrible struggle against desti- tution maintained for years, and daily becoming more difficult and hopeless. It was like a shipwrecked crew reduced to quarter-rations, and now about to relinquish even these ! " And they are patient under all this ?" asked Kate, with that peculiar accent so difficult to pronounce its meaning. " They are indeed. Miss," was the answer. " Have they any hope ? "What do they promise themselves as the remedy for these calamities ?" "Sorrow one of me knows," said she, with a sigh. "Some goes away to America, some sinks slowly under it, and waits for Grod's time to leave the world, and a few, but very few, gets roused to anger and does something to be transported or put in gaol." "And Miss Martin — does not she relieve a good deal of this misery ? Is she not of immense benefit by her exertions here P" " Arrah, what can a young lady do after all. Sure it's always them that talks most and best gets over her. Some are ashamed, and some are too proud to tell what they're suffering ; and I believe in my heart, for one that's relieved there are twenty more angry at seeing how lucky he was." They walked along now for some time in sUenee, when Joan, stopping short, said—" There's the house. Miss ; that's the place I live in." " That house far away on the mountain side ?" " Yes, Miss ; it's four miles yet from this." 202 .THE aiajiTiirB of cro' ^hajltis. " But surelj yon haven'*' ttj' walk all that way ?" " What si^iifies it ? Isn't my heart lighter than when I came along this morning? And now I won't let you OQme any famthierji'or I'll take a short ,eut here across the fields." '.' May I go and see you. one of these days ?" asked £ate. Joan grew crimson to the very roots of her hair, and tumed la look on Massingfcred, as though to say — " You ought to answer this for me." But Jack was too deep in his own thoughts even to notice the appeal.., "I can scarcely ask yaw to come to me," said .Kate, qiiickly per- eeiTlng a difficulty, "for I am iiiiot even a visitor at Cro' Maartan." ''I'm sure I hope if'S ndt (the last time we'll meeh, Miss:; but mayhe" — she faltered, aad a heavy tear burst forth, and rolled slowly along her cheek — --"anaybe yoiu oughtn't to come and see me." .Kate pressed her hand aifeetdonately, witiout speaking, and they parted. "Is Joan gone?" asked Massingbred, raising his head from an attitude of deep reverie, " "When did «he leavft us ?" "There she goes yonder," said .Kate, poiatiag. ^'I fear me Jier spirits are not as light as her footsteps. Axe her people very poor?" " Her father was a herd, I beUeve,'' said he, loauelfissly ; " but she doesn't live at home." " Is she married, then?" - " I'm not sure that she is; but at least she believes she is." " Poor thing !" said Kate, calmly, while, foldiog her arms, she con- tinued to gaze after the ^parting figure of the couaatry girl. "iPoor thimgl" repeated she once more, and tmaied to walk homewards. Miassingbred ■Bssi his eyes upon her keenly as she uttrared the words ; few and simple as they were, they seemed to reveal to him aome&iag of the nature of her who spoke them. A mere exelama- tion-r-a syllable — wiE sometimes convey " whole worlds of secret thought and feeling," and it was evidently thus that Massingbied in- terpreted this brief expression. " There was nothing of scorn in that pity!" thought he. "I wish she had uttered even one word more! She is a strange creature J" And it was thus speaking to himself that he walked aloing at her side. " This wild and desolate scene is not very like that of which we talked the other night-r-when first we met — ^Miss Henderson." "Tou foi^et that we never met," said she, calmly. .THE MAETINS OP CEO MAETIN. " True, and yet ijhere was a link between us even in those few flowers tlirown at random." " Don't be romantic, Mr. Massingbred — do not, I pray you," said she, «mi]iTig £imtdy. " Tou know it's not your style, -while it •would be utterly thrown away upon me. I am aware that fine gentlemen of your stamp deem this the fitidng tone to assimie towards 'the Governess,' but I'm really unworthy of it." " "What a strange girl you are," said he, half thinking aloud. " On the ccmtrary, how very common.»j^ce," said she, liastily. " Do you like this country ?" asked Massingbred, with an imitaMon lof her own abrupt manner. " No," said she, fihortly. " Nor the people ?" " Nor the people !" was the answer. " And is your life to be passed amongst them?" "Perhaps," said she; with a slight gesture of "hra: shoulders. " Don't you know, Mr. Massingbred," added she, with more energy, " that a woman has no more power to shape her destiny than a leaf has to choose where it will faU ? If I were a man — ^you, for in^ance — r would think and act differently." " I should like to hear what you would do if in Tny place," Baid Jadk, Trith a degree of interest in the remark. " To begin, I'll tell you what I would not do," said she, SihUy. " I'd not waste very good abilities on very small oli^ects ; I'd neither have small ambitions nor small animosities. You have both." ^^ As howf" asked he, &aakly,aad with no touch of ixritatioB. " Am I to be candid F' "Certaimly." " Even to rudeness J" ^'Out as deeply as you like," said he, smiling. "Then heise goes: — For the ' small ambition' I speak o:^ it was displayed yesterday at dinner, when, in rivalry with that old lawyer, you eondesoended to play agreeable, to out-talk him, out-quote, and out-anecdote him. It is true you sueeeeded, but wiafc a poor suc- cess it was ; how inadequate to the forces that were mustered to effect it !" " And now for tiie other count of the indictment," said he, with a half smile. " First, do you plead guilty to this one ?" asked she. *' Tes ; with an ' atteimating cirdunBtsmoe.' " * What is thatf" 204 THE MAETIKS OI' CEO' MAE.TIF. "Why, that you were present," said Jack, with a glance of more than, mere passing gallantry. . ""Well," said she, after a pause, " I did take some of the display to my own share. I saw that you didn't care to captivate the young lady of the house, and that 'my Lady' bored you!" " Insufferably !" exclaimed Jack, with energy. " Your manner showed it," said she, " even more than such polish ought to have betrayed." "But I'm sure I never exhibited any signs of my martyrdom," said he ; "I stood my torture well." " Not half so heroically as you fancied. I noticed your weariness before the dinner was half over, as I detected your splenetic dislike to young Mr. Nelligan- " To Young Nelligan ?— then he has told you " " Stop — be cautious," broke she in hurriedly ; " don't turn evidence against yourself. Se has told me nothing." " Then what do you know ?" " Nothing ; I only surmise." " And what is your surmise ?" " That he and you had met before — that you had even been inti- mate — and now, from some misunderstanding, you had ceased to be friends. Mind, I don't want confessions — I don't seek to learn your -secrets." " But you shall hear this from me," said Massingbred, "with ear- nestness, " and perhaps you, so ready to blame me for some things, may see reason to think well of me in this." He then related briefly but simply the history of his acquaintance with Nelligati ; he dwelt, not without feeling, upon the passages of their student-life, and at last spoke of his chance visit to Oughterard, and the accident by which he became old Nelligan's guest. " What can you make of Joseph's conduct," cried he, " or how explain his refusal to meet me at his father's table P One of two reasons there must be. He either discredits me in the character of his friend, or shrinks, with an •ignoble shame, from appearing there in his real position — the son of the country shopkeeper ! I scarcely know if I'd not prefer he should have been actuated by the former motive ; though more offensive to Me, in him it were more manly," "Why not have asked him which alternative he accepted?" asked . Kate. " Because the opportunity to wound him deeply — ^incurably — first presented itself. I knew well that nothing would hurt him like the cool assumption of not recognising him, and I determined not to lose my vengeance." THE MAETINS OF OEO' MAETIK. . 205 " I'm a woman," said Kate, "and I'd not have stooped to that!" It was rarely that Massingbred's emotions gave any evidence of their working, but now his cheek grew crimson, as he said, " A man only can measure a man's indignation." "You are angry without cause,'' said she, calmly ; "you wish me to pronounce a verdict on an act,, and are displeased because I think differently from you. How right I was in my guess that small animosities were amongst your failings ! Tou want now to quarrel ■with, me!" Massingbred walked along for some moments without speaking, and then said, " Tou knew WeUigan formerly ?" " Tes, we were playfellows together as children ; lovers, I believe, a little later on -" " And now ?" broke he in. " And now very good friends, as the world uses that phrase. At all events," added she, after a brief pause, " enough his friend to be able to say that you have wronged him by your suspicions. Joe NeUigan — or I'm . much mistaken — ^may feel the inequality of his position as a something to overcome, a barrier to be surmounted — not as a disability to contest the prizes of life even with such as Mr. Massingbred." " It is you now would quarrel with me," said Jack, retorting her own words upon her. " And yet," he added, in a lower tone, " I would wish to have you my friend." " So you can, upon one condition,'' replied she, promptly. " I accept, whatever it be. Ifame it." " That you be your own friend, that you address yourself to the business of life seriously and steadily ; resolving to employ your abilities as a means of advancement, not as a mere instrument for amusement ; determine, in fact, to be something besides a dilettante and an idler." " Is it a bargain, then, if I do this ?" asked he, eagerly; " Tes ; I promise you the high and mighty boon of mi/ friendship," replied she, with mock solemnity. " And so we seal our contract," said he, pressing her hand to his lips, but with an air of such respectful gallantry, that the action implied nothing bordering on a liberty. " And now I leave you," said she, as she opened the wicket-gate of a small flower-garden ; " such conferences as ours must not be re- peated, or they might be remarked upoiL Good-by." And without waiting for his reply, she passed on into the garden, while Massing- bred stood gazing after her silently and thoughtfully. 2Dff THU MAETIIira OF OBO' MABTnr, CHAPTER XX Air EtBCnON ADDKirSS. "Am I feekind time, Mr. Massingbred ?" said Eate Hend'eMsn!, as she entered the Library, about a week after the events we have last recorded: — "am 1 behind time ?" said she, approaching a table where the young man sat, surrounded with a mass of fetters and papers. "Kot very muchj"' said he, rising, and placing a chair for her; " and I take it for granted you came as soon as you could." " Tes ; I have finished my morning's reading foF her Ladyship — noted her letters — answered the official portion of her correspon- denc& — ^talked the newspaper for Mr. Martin — hummed a singing lesson for Miss Mary— listened to a Grrand Jury story of Mr. Eepton — and now, that they are all. off to their several destinationB, here I am, very much at the service of Mr. Massingbred.'* "Who- never needed -ceunsel more than at this momsnt !" said Jack, running his hands distractedly through his hair. " That's from my father !" added h©j handing her- a tetter with a portentoua-looking sed attached to it. " What a fine bold hand — and how easy to- read," said she, perusing it. Jack watched hernarrowly while she read ; but on h'er calm impassive face not a line' nor a lineament beteayed emotion. " It is,- then, an English feoroiigh he reeom'mends," said she, laythg it down; "and I soppoae, looking' to an of&cial career, he is quite right. - The 'Ifo Irish need apply'' Mfight be inscribed over Downing-- street ; but is that altogether your view ?" "I scarcely know what I project as yet," said he. "I have no career I" "Well, let. us plan bnie," replied she, crossing her arms on the table, and speaking with increased earnestness. " The Martins have offered you Oughterard> " He nodded, and she went on: " And, as I ujiderstand it,, very much on ymip own conditiens-P" " That is to say, I'm not to damage the Tories more than I can help, nor to help the Eadicals more tham I must." " Is there- amy designation for the party youiwill thus belong to?'*^ asked she. " I'm not' exactly sure that there is ; perhaps, they'd call me a Moderate Whig.-" THE ItABTIBS QT OBO' SEAETlir. 207 "■That soimda very nice and. common-place, but I iaa't like it. These are not tunes for moderaticm, nor would the part suit you !" " Ton thiok so P" " I'm certain of it. Ton haven't got haluts of disciplne to serve with a regular corps ;. to do anything, or he anythiog, yon must command a partisan legion " " You're right there — ^I know that," broke he in. " I don't mean it as flattery, but rather somettiiag a little border- ing on the reverse,-" said she, fixing her .eyes steadfastly on him j " for,, after all, there is no great success — I mean, no toweiping suc- cess-^to be achieved by anoh a line ; but as I feel that youll not work " " JS^o ; of that be assured !" " Then there are only secondary rewards to be won." " Tou certainly do not over-estimate me 1" .said Jack,, trying to seem perfectly indifferent "■I have no desire to underrate yojir abilities," saidtshe, calmly ; "they are very good ones. Tou have great fluency — ^great ' variety,' as Grattan would eaiU it — ^on excellait memory — and a most amiable self-possession.' ' " By Jove !" said he, reddening slightly, " you enumerate my little gifbs with all the aecura,cy of an appraiser !" "Then," resumed she, not heeding hia iffifcerruptitm, "you ha.ve abundance of what is vulgarly styled 'pluck,' and which ia to courage; what esprit is to actual wit ; and lastly, you are a proflcient in that- readiness which the world always accepts for frankness." " Tou were right to aay that you intended no flattery !" said he, with an effort to laugh. " I want to be truthful," rejoined she, calmly. " No praise of mine — however high it soared, or however lavishly it was squandeaied) — could possibly raise you in your own esteem. The Governess may perform the part of the slave in the triumphal chariot, but could not aspire to put the crown on the conqueror!" " But I have not conquered !" said Jack. " Tou may, whenever you enter the lists ; you must, indeed, if you only care to do^ so. Go in for an Irish, borough," sai