The O'Donoghue Part 36

He had often heard that his grandfather "muddled away his fortune paying small debts." It could not be supposed he would reject the traditions of his own house--nor did he.

He judged wisely, if not well, that new habits of expenditure would do more to silence the complaints of duns than the most accurately calculated system of liquidation. That entertainments and equipages, a stable full of horses, and a house crammed with guests, are a receipt in full for solvency, which, however some may distrust, none are bold enough to question openly.

If the plan had fewer excellencies, it, at least, suited him better; and he certainly opened the campaign with vigour. No sooner had he decided on his line of acting, than he despatched Kerry O'Leary to Cork with a letter for Swaby, his attorney, requiring his immediate presence at Carrig-na-curra, and adding, "that if he brought a couple of hundred pounds over with him at the same time, he might include them with the costs, and get a check for the whole together."

As the old man sealed his epistle, he chuckled over the thoughts of Swaby's astonishment, and fancied the many guesses the crafty attorney would frame to account for such unexpected prosperity. The little remaining sorrow he felt for his share in the transaction gave way to the vulgar pleasure of this surprize; for so is it, the conflict with poverty can debase the mind, and make the very straits and stratagems of want seem straits of cleverness and ability.

It was a day of pleasure almost to all. Sir Archy, dressed in a suit which had not seen daylight for many a previous year, gave his arm to Kate, and, accompanied by Herbert, set out to pa.s.s the day at "The Lodge." Mark alone had no partic.i.p.ation in the general joy; he stood, with folded arms, at the window of the old tower, and gazed on the group that moved along the road. Although he never thought of accompanying them, there was a sense of desertion in his position of which he could not divest himself. With the idea of the pleasure their visit would afford them came the reflection that he was debarred from his share of such enjoyment, and the galling feeling of inferiority sent the blood, with a throbbing current, through his temples, and covered his face with a deep flush. He retorted his own isolation against those he had so strenuously avoided, and accused them of the very fault of which he was himself guilty. "My uncle is more distant to me than ever," muttered he, "and even Herbert, too; Herbert that used to look up to and rely on me, even he shuns me." He did not utter his cousin's name, but a single tear, that rolled heavily down his cheek, and seemed to make it tremble as it pa.s.sed, showed that another and a deeper spring of sorrow was opened in his heart. With a sudden gesture of impatience he roused himself from his musing, and hastily descending the stair, he crossed the old court-yard, and, without any fixed resolve as to his course, walked down the road; nor was it until after proceeding some distance, that he perceived he was rapidly gaining on the little party on their way to the Lodge; then he quitted the high road, and soon lost himself in one of the mountain glens.

As for the others, it was indeed a day of unaccustomed pleasure, and such as rarely presented itself in that solitary valley. All that kindness and hospitality could suggest was done by the family at the Lodge, to make their visit agreeable; and while Sir Marmaduke vied with his son and daughter in courteous attentions to his guests, they, on their part, displayed the happy consciousness of these civilities by efforts to please not less successful.

Sir Archy--albeit the faculty had long lain in disuse--was possessed of conversational powers of a high order, and could blend his observation of pa.s.sing events with the wisdom derived from reflection, and the experience of long intercourse with the world; while, as if to relieve the sombre colouring of his thoughts, Kate's lively sallies and sparkling repartees lit up the picture, and gave it both brilliancy and action. The conversation ranged freely over the topics which form the staple of polite intercourse in the world of the cultivated and the fas.h.i.+onable; and, although Sir Archy had long been removed from such companions.h.i.+p, it was easy to perceive how naturally he could revert to a cla.s.s of subjects, with which he had once been familiar.

It was thus alternating remarks of the past, with allusions to the present--mingling grave and gay, with that happy blending which springs from the social intercourse of different ages--they sat, after dinner, watching, through the unshuttered window, the bright moonlight that streamed across the glen and glittered on the lake, the conversation, from some reference to the scenery, turned to the condition of Ireland, and the then state of her people. Sir Marmaduke, notwithstanding his late experiences, fully maintaining the accuracy of his own knowledge in matters, which have not ceased to puzzle even wiser heads, gained confidence from the cautious reserve of Sir Archy, who rarely ventured an opinion, and never hazarded a direct a.s.sertion.

"They would have me believe, in England," said Sir Marmaduke, "that Ireland was on the very brink of a rebellion; that the organization of revolt was perfect, and only waiting French co-operation to burst forth; but how absurd such statements are to us who lire amongst them."

Sir Archy smiled significantly, and shook his head.

"You, surely, have no fears on this head, sir? It is not possible to conceive a state of more profound peace, than we observe around us. Men do not take up arms against a rightful authority, without the working of strong pa.s.sions and headlong impulses. What is there to indicate them here?"

"You'll allow, Sir Marmaduke, they are no overlikely to mak' ye a confidant, if they intend a rising," was the dry observation of M'Nab.

"True; but could they conceal their intentions from me--that is the question? Think you that I should not have discovered them long since, and made them known to the government?"

"I trust you'd have done no such thing, sir," interposed Fred. "I heard Maitland say, there never was a chance of keeping this country down, if we had not a brush with them every thirty or forty years; and, if I don't mistake, the time for a lesson has just come round."

"Is it so certain on which side is to be the teacher?" said Kate, with a voice whose articulate distinctness actually electrified the party; and, as it drew their eyes towards her, heightened the flush that mantled on her cheek.

"It never occurred to me to doubt the matter," said Fred, with an air of ill-dissembled mortification.

"No more than you antic.i.p.ated it, perhaps," retorted she, quickly; "and yet events are happening every day which take the world by surprise. See there!--look. That mountain-peak was dark but a moment back; and now, see the blazing fire that has burst forth upon it!"

The whole party started to their feet, and drew near the window, from which, at a distance of about two miles, the red glare of a fire was seen. It burned brightly for some minutes, and then decaying, became extinguished, leaving the dark mountain black and gloomy as before.

"What can it mean?" said Sir Marmaduke, in amazement. "Can it be some signal of the smugglers? I understand they still venture on this coast."

"That mountain yonder is not seen from the bay," said Sir Archy, thoughtfully. "It can scarcely be that."

"I think we must ask Miss O'Donoghue for the explanation," said Fred Travers. "She is the only one here not surprized at its appearance."

"Miss O'Donoghue is one of those who, you a.s.sert, are to be taught, and, therefore, unable to teach others," said she, in a low whisper, only audible to Frederick, who stood beside her, and he almost started at the strange meaning the words seemed to convey.

CHAPTER XXIV. A WALK BY MOONLIGHT

The visit alluded to in the last chapter formed the first step to an acquaintance which speedily ripened into intimacy. Seldom a day pa.s.sed without some interchange of civilities; and as they progressed in knowledge of each other, they advanced in esteem, so that, ere long, they learned to regard themselves as members of a single family. The conventional usages of society are stronger barriers against friends.h.i.+p than the world deems them. The life of cities supplies a coinage of social intercourse which but very imperfectly represents the value of true feeling; while in remoter and less cultivated regions, men are satisfied to disenc.u.mber themselves of this false currency, and deal frankly and openly with each other.

How little now did Sir Marmaduke remember of all Sir Archy's peculiarities of manner and expression! how seldom did Sybella think Kate's opinions wild and eccentric! and how difficult would it have been to convince the fastidious Guardsman, that the society of St. James's possessed any superiority in tone or elegance over the evenings at "the Lodge."

The real elements of mutual liking were present here: the discrepancy of character and taste--the great differences of age, and habit of thought--yet moulded into one common frame of esteem from the very appreciation of qualities in others, in which each felt himself deficient. If Kate admired the simple but high-minded English girl, whose thoughts were rarely faulty, save when attributing to others higher and purer motives than the world abounds in, Sybella looked up with enthusiastic delight to the glittering talents of her Irish friend--the warm and generous glow of her imagination--the brilliant flashes of her wit--the ready eloquence of her tongue, and, perhaps, not least of all, the intrepid fearlessness of her nature, inspired her with sentiments of almost awe, which seemed to deepen, and not diminish her affection for Kate O'Donoghue.

It might appear an ungenerous theme to dwell on; but how often are our friends.h.i.+ps suggested by self-love?--how frequently are we led to think highly and speak praisingly of qualities the opposite to our own, from the self-satisfaction our apparent impartiality yields us. Justice must, indeed, be a great virtue, when its very shadow can enn.o.ble human nature. Not such, however, were the motives here. Kate's admiration for the unerring rect.i.tude of Sybella's character was as free from taint as was Sybella's heartfelt enthusiasm for the Irish girl. As for Frederick Travers, the same dissimilarity in character which made him at first compare Kate with his sister disadvantageously, now induced him to be struck and fascinated by her qualities. The standard by which he had measured her, she had long since pa.s.sed, in his estimation; and any idea of a comparison between them would now have appeared ridiculous. It was true many of her opinions savoured of a nationality too strong for his admiration. She was intensely Irish--or at least what he deemed such.

The traditions which, as a child, she had listened to with eager delight, had given a bias to her mind that grew more confirmed with years. The immediate circ.u.mstances of her own family added to this feeling, and her pride was tinctured with sorrow at the fallen condition of her house. All her affection for her cousins could not blind her to their great defects. In Mark she saw one whose spirit seemed crushed and stunned, and not awakened by the pressure of misfortune. Herbert, with all his kindliness of nature and open-heartedness, appeared more disposed to enjoy the suns.h.i.+ne of life, than to prepare himself to buffet with its storms.

How often she wished she had been a boy; how many a day-dream floated before her of such a career as she might have struck out! Ireland a nation--her "own sons her rulers"--had been the theme of many an oft-heard tale, and there was a poetry in the sentiment of a people recalled to a long-lost, long-sought-for nationality, that excited and exalted her imagination.

Her convent education had stored her mind with narratives of native suffering and Saxon tyranny, and she longed for the day of retribution on the "proud invaders." Great was her disappointment at finding her cousins so dead to every feeling of this kind; and she preferred the chivalrous ardour of the English soldier to the sluggish apathy of Mark, or the happy indolence of Herbert O'Donoghue.

Had Frederick Travers been an Irishman, would he have borne his country's wrongs so meekly? was a reflection that more than once occurred to her mind, and never more powerfully than on parting with him, the very evening we have mentioned. He had accompanied them, on their return to Carrig-na-curra, which, as the night was fine and the moon nearly at her full, they did on foot. Kate, who rarely accepted an arm when walking, had, by some accident, taken his on this occasion, Sir. Archy leaning on that of Herbert.

The young soldier listened with a high-beating heart, as she related an incident, of which the spot they were traversing had been the scene.

It was a faithless ma.s.sacre of a chieftain and his followers, seduced, under pretences of friends.h.i.+p and a pledge of amity.

"They told him," said she, "that his young wife, who had been carried away by force, and imprisoned for two entire years, should on this spot be restored to him; that he had but to come, with twelve of his retainers, unarmed, save with their swords, and that here, where we now stand, she should once more become his own. The hour was sunset, and he waited, with anxious impatience, beneath that tall cliff yonder, where you can see the deep cleft. Strange enough, they have added a legend to the true story, as if their wrongs could derive any force from fiction!

and they tell you still, that the great rock was never split until that night. Their name for it, in Irish, is 'the rent,' or 'the ruptured pledge.' Do I weary you with these old tales?"

"No, no; go on, I entreat you. I cannot say how the scene; increases its fascinations, from connection with your story."

"He stood yonder, where the black shadow now crosses the road, and having dismounted, he gave his horse to one of his attendants, and walked, with an anxious heart, up and down, waiting for their approach.

"There was less sympathy among his followers for their chieftain's sorrow than might be expected; for she was not a native born, but the daughter of an English earl. He, perhaps, loved her the more--her very friendlessness was another tie between them."

"Says the legend so, or is this a mere suspicion on your part?"

whispered Travers softly.

"I scarcely know," continued Kate, with an accent less a.s.sured than before. "I believe I tell you the tale as I have heard it; but why may she not have been his own in every sentiment and thought--why not have imbibed the right, from him she learned to love?" The last words were scarcely uttered, when, with a sudden exclamation, less of fear than astonishment, Kate grasped Travers' arm, and exclaimed--"Did you see that!"

"I thought some dark object moved by the road side."

"I saw a man pa.s.s, as if from behind us, and gain the thicket yonder: he was alone, however."

"And I am armed," said Travers, coolly.

"And if you were not," replied she, proudly, "an O'Donoghue has nothing to fear in the valley of Glenflesk. Let us join my uncle, however, for I see he has left us some distance behind him;" and while they hastened forward, she resumed her story with the same unconcern as before the interruption.

Travers listened eagerly--less, it is true, in sympathy with the story, than in delight at the impa.s.sioned eloquence of her who related it.

"Such," said she, as they turned to bid him farewell at the old keep on the road side, "such are the traditions of our land; they vary in time and place, and persons; but they have only one moral through all--what a terrible thing is slavery!"

Travers endeavoured to turn the application of her speech, by some common-place compliment about her own powers of inflicting bondage; but she stopped him suddenly, with "Nay, nay; these are not jesting themes, although you may deem them unsuited for one as ignorant and inexperienced as I am; nor will I speak of them again, if they serve but as matter for laughter."

Amid his protestations of innocence against this charge, which, in his ardour, he pushed farther than calmer judgment might warrant, they shook hands cordially, and parted.

"He's a fine-hearted fellow, too," thought Kate, as she slowly moved along in silence. "Saxon though he be, there's a chord in his bosom that responds to the touch of truth and honour."

"n.o.ble girl," said Frederick, half aloud, "it would be hard to rebuke treason, when spoken from such lips;" then added, with a smile--"It's no fair temptation to expose even a Guardsman to."