The O'Donoghue Part 48

"I'll soon find out for you," said Mark, suddenly seizing his hat;--but at the same instant the door opened, and a waiter appeared.

"There's a gentleman below stairs, Mr. Talbot, would be glad to speak a few words with you."

Talbot motioned, by an almost imperceptible gesture, that Mark should retire into the adjoining room; and then, approaching the waiter, asked, in a low cautious voice, if the stranger were known to him.

"No, sir--never saw him before. He seems like one from the country: Mr.

Crossley says he's from the south."

"Show him up," said Talbot, hurriedly; and, as the waiter left the room, he seated himself in his chair, in an att.i.tude of well-a.s.sumed carelessness and ease. This was scarcely done, when the stranger entered, and closed the door behind him.

"Good evening to you, Mr. Talbot. I hope I see your honor well," said he, in an accent of very unmistakable Kerry Doric.

"Good evening to you, friend," replied Talbot. "My memory is not so good as yours, or I'd call you by your name also."

"I'm Lanty Lawler, sir--that man that sold your honor the dark chesnut mare down in the county Kerry, last winter. I was always wis.h.i.+ng to see your honor again, by reason of that same.

"How so?" said Talbot, getting suddenly paler, but with no other appearance of emotion in his manner. "Was not our contract honestly concluded at the time?"

"It was, sir--there's no doubt of it. Your honor paid like a gentleman, and in goold besides;--but that's just the business I come about here.

It was French money you gave me, and I got into trouble about it--some saying that I was a spy, and others making out that I was, maybe, worse; and so I thought I wouldn't pa.s.s any more of it, till I seen yourself, and maybe you'd change it for me."

While he was speaking, Talbot's eye never wandered from him--not fixed, indeed, with any seeming scrutiny, but still intently watching every play of his features.

"You told me at the time, however, that French gold was just as convenient to you as English," said he, smiling good-humouredly, "and from the company I met you in, I found no difficulty in believing you."

"The times is changed, sir," said Lanty, sighing. "G.o.d help us--we must do the best we can."

This evasive answer seemed perfectly to satisfy Talbot, who a.s.sented with a shake of the head, as he said--

"Very well, Lanty; if you will come here to-morrow, I'll exchange your gold for you."

"Thank your honor kindly," said Lanty, with a bow; but still making no sign of leaving the room, where he stood, changing from one foot to the other, in an att.i.tude of bashful diffidence. "There was another little matter, sir, but I'd be sorry to trouble you about it--and sure you couldn't help it, besides."

"And that is--Let us hear it, Lanty."

"Why, sir, it's the horse--the mare with the one white fetlock. They say, sir, that she was left at Moran's stables by the man that robbed Mr. Moore of Moorecroft. Deaf Collison, the post-boy, can swear to her; and as I bought her myself at Dycer's, they are calling me to account for when I sold her, and to whom."

"Why, there's no end to your trouble about that unlucky beast, Lanty,"

said Talbot, laughing; "and I confess it's rather hard, that you are not only expected to warrant your horse sound, but must give a guarantee that the rider is honest."

"Devil a lie in it, but that's just it," said Lanty, who laughed heartily at the notion.

"Well, we must look to this for you, Lanty; for although I have no desire to have my name brought forward, still you must not suffer on that account. I remember paying my bill at Rathmallow with that same mare. She made an overreach coming down a hill, and became dead lame with me; and I gave her to the landlord of the little inn in the square, in lieu of my score."

"See now, what liars there's in the world!" said Lanty, holding up his hands in pious horror. "Ould Finn of the Head Inn tould me she ate a feed of oats at the door, and started again for Askeaton, with a gentleman just like your honor, the night after I sold her. He knew the mare well; and by the same token he said she was galled on the shoulder with holsters that was fixed to the saddle. Now, think of that, and he after buying her! Is it early in the morning I'm to come to your honor?"

said he, moving towards the door.

"Yes--that is--no, Lanty, no--about twelve o'clock. I'm a late riser.

Wait a moment, Lanty; I have something more to say to you, if I could only remember it." He pa.s.sed his hand across his brow as he spoke, and looked like one labouring to recall some lost thought. "No matter," said he, after a pause of some minutes; "I shall perhaps recollect it before to-morrow."

"Good night to you, then, sir," said Lanty, with a most obsequious bow, as he opened the door.

Their eyes met: it was only for a moment; but with such intelligence did each glance read the other, that they both smiled significantly. Talbot moved quickly forward at the instant, and closing the door with one hand, he laid the other gently on Lanty's shoulder.

"Come, Lanty," said he, jocularly, "I can afford to sport ten pounds for a whim. Tell me who it was sent you after me this evening, and I'll give you the money."

"Done, then!" cried Lanty, grasping his hand; "And you'll ask no more than his name?"

"Nothing more. I pledge my word; and here's the money."

"Captain Hemsworth, the agent to the rich Englishman in Glen-flesk."

"I don't think I ever saw him in my life--I'm certain I don't know him.

Is he a tall, dark man?"

"I'll tell you no more," said Lanty. "The devil a luck I ever knew come of speaking of him."

"All fair, Lanty--a bargain's a bargain; and so, good-night." And with a shake-hands of affected cordiality, they parted.

"Your conference has been a long one," said Mark, who waited with impatience, until the silence without permitted him to come forth.

"Not so long as I could have wished it," was Talbot's reply, as he stood in deep thought over what had pa.s.sed. "It is just as I feared, Mark; there is danger brewing for me in some quarter, but how, and in what shape, I cannot even guess. This same horsedealer, this Lanty Lawler----"

"Lanty Lawler, did you say?"

"Yes. You know him, then?"

"To be sure I do. We've had many dealings together. He's a shrewd fellow, and not over-scrupulous in the way of his trade; but, apart from that, he's a true-hearted, honest fellow, and a friend to the cause."

"You think so, Mark," said Talbot, with a smile of significant meaning.

"I know it, Talbot. He is not an acquaintance of yesterday with me. I have known him for years long. He is as deep in the plot as any, and perhaps has run greater risks than either of us."

"Well, well," said Talbot, sighing, as though either weary of the theme, or disinclined to contradict the opinion; "let us think of other matters. Shall we go to this ball or not? I incline to say nay."

"What! Not go there?" said Mark, starting back in astonishment.

"Why, what in heaven's name have we been waiting for, but this very opportunity?--and what reason is there now to turn from our plans?"

"There may be good and sufficient ones, even though they should be purely personal to myself," said Talbot, in a tone of ill-dissembled pique. "But come; we will go. I have been walking over a mine too long to care for a mere petard. And now, let us lose no more time, but dress at once."

"Must I really wear this absurd dress, Talbot? For very shame's sake, I shall not be able to look about me."

"That you must, Mark. Remember that your safety lies in the fact that we attract no notice of any kind. To be as little remarked as possible is our object; and for this reason I shall wear the uniform of an English militia regiment, of which there are many at every Levee. We shall separate on entering the room, and meet only from time to time; but as we go along, I'll give you all your instructions. And now to dress, as quickly as may be."

CHAPTER x.x.xIII. THE ST. PATRICK'S BALL