Roland Cashel Volume I Part 47

He wondered within himself whether _her_ bold, impa.s.sioned nature could be comprehended within Linton's category, and a secret sense of rejoicing thrilled through him as he replied to himself in the negative.

"I 'd wager a trifle, Roland, from that easy smile you wear, that your memory has called up one example, at least, unfavorable to my theory.

Eh! I have guessed aright Come then, out with it, man,--who is this peerless paragon of pure ingenuous truth?--who is she whose nature is the transparent crystal where fair thoughts are enshrined? No denizen of our misty northland, I'll be sworn, but some fair Mexican, with as little disguise as drapery. Confess, I say--there is a confession, I 'll be sworn--and so make a clean breast of it."

It struck Cashel, while Linton was speaking, how effectually Maritana herself, by one proud look, one haughty gesture, would have silenced such flippant raillery; and he could not help feeling it a kind of treason to their old friends.h.i.+p that he should listen to it in patient endurance.

"Listen to me, amigo mio," said he, in a tone of earnest pa.s.sion that seemed almost estranged from his nature latterly,--"listen to me while I tell you that in those faraway countries, whose people you regard with such contemptuous pity, there are women--ay, young girls--whose daring spirit would shame the courage of many of those fine gentlemen we spend our lives with; and I, for one, have so much of the Indian in me, as to think that courage is the first of virtues."

"I cannot help fancying," said Linton, with an almost imperceptible raillery, "that there are other qualities would please me as well in a wife or a mistress."

"I have no doubt of it--and suit you better, too," said Cashel, savagely; then hastily correcting himself for his rude speech, he added, "I believe, in good earnest, that you would as little sympathize with that land and its people as I do with this. Ay, if you want a confession, there's one for you. I'm longing to be back once more among the vast prairies of the West, galloping free after the dark-backed bisons, and strolling along in the silent forests. The enervation of this life wearies and depresses me; worse than all, I feel that, with a little more of it, I shall lose all energy and zest for that activity of body, which, to men like myself, supplies the place of thought,--a little more of it, and I shall sink into that languid routine where dissipation supplies the only excitement."

"This is a mere pa.s.sing caprice; a man who has wealth--"

"There it is," cried Cashel, interrupting him impetuously; "that is the eternal burden of your song. As if wealth, in forestalling the necessity for labor, did not, at the same time, deprive life of all the zeal of enterprise. When I have stepped into my boat to board a Chilian frigate, I have had a prouder throbbing at my heart than ever the sight of that banker's check-book has given me. There's many a Gambusino in the Rocky Mountains a happier--ay, and a finer fellow, too, than the gayest of those gallants that ever squandered the gold _he_ quarried! But why go on?--we are speaking in unknown tongues to each other."

The tone of irritation into which, as it seems unconsciously, Cashel had fallen, was not lost on the keen perception of Linton, and he was not sorry to feign a pretext for closing an interview whose continuance might be unpleasant.

"I was thinking of a hurried trip down to Tubbermore," said he, rising; "we shall have these guests of yours in open rebellion, if we don't affect at least something like preparation for their reception. I'll take Perystell along with me, and we'll see what can be done to get the old house in trim."

"Thanks," said Cashel, as he walked up and down, his thoughts seeming engaged on some other theme.

"I 'll write to you a report of the actual condition of the fortress,"

said Linton, a.s.suming all his habitual easy freedom of manner, "and then, if you think of anything to suggest, you'll let me hear."

"Yes, I 'll write," said Cashel, still musing on his own thoughts.

"I see pretty plainly," cried Linton, laughing, "there's no earthly use in asking you questions just now, your brain being otherwise occupied, and so, good-bye."

"Good-bye--good-bye," said Cashel, endeavoring, but not with a very good grace to shake off his pre-occupation while he shook hands with him; and Linton descended the stairs, humming an opera air, with all the seeming light-heartedness of a very careless nature.

Cashel, meanwhile, sat down, and, with his head resting on his hand, pondered over their late interview. There were two circ.u.mstances which both puzzled and distressed him. How came it that Linton should have written this note to Kennyf.e.c.k on a subject which only seemed to have actually suggested itself in the course of this their very last conversation? Had he already planned the whole campaign respecting the seat in Parliament and the qualification, and was his apparently chance allusion to those topics a thing studied and devised beforehand? This, if true, would argue very ill for his friend's candor and fair dealing; and yet, how explain it otherwise? Was there any other seat open to him for which to need a qualification? If so, he had never spoken of it. It was the first time in his life that Cashel had conceived a suspicion of one whom he had regarded in the light of friend, and only they who have undergone a similar trial can understand the poignant suffering of the feeling; and yet, palpable as the cause of such a doubt was, he had never entertained it had not Linton spoken disparagingly of the Kennyf.e.c.ks! This is a curious trait of human nature, but one worth consideration; and while leaving it to the elucidation the penetration of each reader may suggest, we only reiterate the fact, that while Cashel could, without an effort, have forgiven the duplicity practised on himself, the levity Linton employed respecting Olivia engendered doubts of his honor too grave to be easily combated.

As for Linton scarcely had he quitted Cashel, than he hastened to call on Kennyf.e.c.k; he had written the note already alluded to, to leave at the house should the solicitor be from home; but having left it by accident on the writing-table, his servant, discovering it to be sealed and addressed, had, without further question, left it at Kennyf.e.c.k's house. As Linton went along, he searched his pockets for the epistle, but consoled himself by remembering how he had left it at home.

A few moments later found him at Kennyf.e.c.k's door. The attorney was at home, and, without any announcement, Linton entered the study where he sat.

"I was this instant writing to you, sir," said Kennyf.e.c.k, rising, and placing a seat for him; "Mr Cashel, on being informed of the wish expressed in your note--"

"Of what note?" said Linton, in a voice of, for him, very unusual agitation.

"This note--here, sir,--dated--no, by-the-by, it is not dated, but brought by your servant two hours ago."

Linton took the paper, glanced his eye over it, and then, in mingled chagrin and forgetfulness, tore it, and threw the fragments into the fire.

"There is some mistake about this," said he, slowly, and giving himself time to consider what turn he should lend it.

"This is Mr. Cashel's reply, sir," said Kennyf.e.c.k, after pausing some moments, but in vain for the explanation.

Linton eagerly caught the letter and read it through, and whatever scruples or fear he might have conceived for any other man's, it seemed as if he had little dread of Cashel's penetration, for his a.s.sured and easy smile at once showed that he had regained his wonted tranquillity.

"You will then take the necessary steps, without delay, Kennyf.e.c.k,"

said he. "The elections cannot be very distant, and it is better to be prepared." As he spoke, he threw the letter back upon the table, but in a moment afterwards, while taking off his gloves, managed to seize it and convey it to his pocket. "You know far better than I do, Kennyf.e.c.k,"

resumed he, "how sharp the lawyers can be in picking out any flaw respecting t.i.tle and so forth; for this reason, be careful that this doc.u.ment shall be as regular and binding as need be."

"It shall be submitted for counsel's opinion this evening, sir--"

"Not to Jones, then; I don't fancy that gentleman, although I know he has some of your confidence; send it to Hammond."

"As you please, sir."

"Another point. You'll not insert any clause respecting the tenant in possession; it would only be hampering us with another defence against some legal subtlety or other."

"Mr. Cashel does not desire this, sir?"

"Of course not--you understand what the whole thing means. Well, I must say good-bye; you 'll have all ready by the time I return to town. My respects to the drawing-room. Adieu.

"That was bad blunder about the note," muttered Linton, as he walked along towards home, "and might have lost the game, if the antagonist had any skill whatever."

CHAPTER XXIII. LINTON VISITS HIS ESTATE.

Let's see the field, and mark it well, For, here, will be the battle.

Ottocar.

"Does this path lead to the house, friend?" said a gentleman whose dress bespoke recent travel, to the haggard, discontented figure of a man who, seated on a stone beside a low and broken wicket, was lazily filling his pipe, and occasionally throwing stealthy glances at the stranger.

A. short nod of the head was the reply. "You belong to the place, I suppose?"

"Maybe I do; and what then?"

"Simply that, as I am desirous of going thither, I should be glad of your showing me the way."

"Troth, an' there's little to see when you get there," rejoined the other, sarcastically. "What are you by trade, if it's not displeasin' to ye?"

"That's the very question I was about to ask you," said Linton, for it was himself; "you appear to have a very easy mode of life, whatever it be, since you are so indifferent about earning half-a-crown."

Tom Keane arose from his seat, and made an awkward attempt at saluting, as he said,--

"'Tis the dusk o'the evening prevented me seeing yer honer, or I wouldn't be so bowld. This is the way to the Hall sure enough."

"This place has been greatly neglected of late," said Linton, as they walked along side by side, and endeavoring, by a tone of familiarity, to set his companion at ease.

"Troth, it is neglected, and always was as long as I remember. I was reared in it, and I never knew it other; thistles and docks as big as your leg, everywhere, and the gra.s.s choked up with moss."

"How came it to be so completely left to ruin?"