The Knight Of Gwynne Volume II Part 39

"I am so far in its favor," said O'Reilly, "that it solves the present difficulty, and prevents all future danger. Should my father succeed in persuading Lady Eleanor to this marriage, the interest of the two families is inseparably united. It is very unlikely that any circ.u.mstance, of what nature soever, would induce young Darcy to dispute his sister's claim, or endanger her position in society. This settlement of the question is satisfactory in itself, and shows a good face to the world, and I confess I am curious to know what peculiar objection you can see against it."

"It has but one fault, sir."

"And that?"

"Simply, it is impossible."

"Is it the presumption of a son of mine seeking an alliance with the daughter of Maurice Darcy that appears so very impossible?" said Hickman, with a hissing utterance of each word, that bespoke a fierce conflict of pa.s.sion within him.

"Certainly not, sir," replied Nalty, hastily excusing himself. "I am well aware which party contributes most to such a compact. Mr. Beecham O'Reilly might look far higher--"

"Wherein lies the impossibility you speak of, then?" rejoined O'Reilly, sternly.

"I need scarcely remind _you_, sir," said Nalty, with an air of deep humility, "_you_ that have seen so much more of life than I have, of what inveterate prejudices these old families, as they like to call themselves, are made up; that, creating a false standard of rank, they adhere to its distinctions with a tenacity far greater than what they exhibit towards the real attributes of fortune. They seem to adopt for their creed the words of the old song,--

"The King may make a Baron bold, Or an Earl of any fool, sir, But with all his power, and all his gold He can never make an O'Toole, sir."

"These are very allowable feelings when sustained by wealth and fortune," said O'Reilly, quietly.

"I verily believe their influence is greater in adversity," said Nalty; "they seem to have a force of consolation that no misery can rob them of. Besides, in this case--for we should not lose sight of the matter that concerns us most--we must not forget that they regard your family in the light of oppressors. I am well aware that you have acted legally and safely throughout; but still--let us concede something to human prejudices and pa.s.sions--is it unreasonable to suppose that they charge you and yours with their own downfall?"

"The more natural our desire to repair the apparent wrong."

"Very true on _your_ part, but not perhaps the more necessary on theirs to accept the amende."

"That will very much depend, I think, on the way of its being proffered.

Lady Eleanor, cold, haughty, and reserved as she is to the world, has always extended a degree of cordiality and kindness towards my father; his age, his infirmities, a seeming simplicity in his character, have had their influence. I trust greatly to this feeling, and to the effect of a request made by an old man, as if from his death-bed. My father is not deficient in the tact to make an appeal of this kind very powerful; at all events, his heart is in the scheme, and nothing short of that would have induced me to venture on this long and dreary journey at such a season. Should he only succeed in gaining an influence over Lady Eleanor, through pity or any other motive, we are certain to succeed.

The Knight, I feel sure, would not oppose; and as for the young lady, a handsome young fellow with a large fortune can scarcely be deemed very objectionable."

"How was the proposition met before?" said Nalty, inquiringly; "was their refusal conveyed in any expression of delicacy? Was there any acknowledgment of the compliment intended them?"

"No, not exactly," said O'Reilly, blus.h.i.+ng; for, while he hesitated about the danger of misleading his adviser, he could not bear to repeat the insolent rejection of the offer. "The false position in which the families stood towards each other made a great difficulty; but, more than all, the influence of Bagenal Daly increased the complexity; now he, fortunately for us, is not forthcoming, his debts have driven him abroad, they say."

"So, then, they merely declined the honor in cold and customary phrase?"

said Nalty, carelessly.

"Something in that way," replied O'Reilly, affecting an equal unconcern; "but we need not discuss the point, it affords no light to guide us regarding the future."

If Nalty saw plainly that some concealment was practised towards him, he knew his client too well to venture on pus.h.i.+ng his inquiries further; so he contented himself with asking when and in what manner O'Reilly proposed to open the siege.

"To-morrow morning," replied the other; "there's no time to be lost.

A few lines from my father to Lady Eleanor will acquaint her with his arrival in the neighborhood, after a long and fatiguing search for her residence. We may rely upon him performing his part well; he will allude to his own breaking health in terms that will not fail to touch her, and ask permission to wait upon her. As for us, Nalty, we must not be foreground figures in the picture. You, if known to be here at all, must be supposed to be my father's medical friend. I must be strictly in the shade."

Nalty gave a grim smile at the notion of his new professional character, and begged O'Reilly to proceed.

"Our strategy goes no further; such will be the order of battle. We must trust to my father for the mode he will engage the enemy afterwards, for the reasons which have led him to take this step,--the approaching close of a long life, unburdened with any weighty retrospect, save that which concerns the Darcy family; for, while affecting to sorrow over their changed fortunes, he can attribute their worst evils to bad counsels and rash advice, and insinuate how different had been their lot had they only consented to regard us--as they might and ought to have done--in the light of friends. Hus.h.!.+ who is speaking there?"

They listened for a second or two, and then came the sound of the old man's voice, as he talked to himself in his sleep; his accents were low and complaining, as if he were suffering deeply from some mental affliction, and at intervals a heavy sob would break from him.

"He is ill, sir; the old gentleman is very ill!" said Nalty, in real alarm.

"Hus.h.!.+" said O'Reilly, as, with one hand on the door, he motioned silence with the other.

"Yes, my Lady," muttered the sleeper, but in a voice every syllable of which was audible, "eighty-six years have crept to your feet, to utter this last wish and die. It is the last request of one that has already left the things of this world, and would carry from it nothing but the thought that will track him to the grave!" A burst of grief, too sudden and too natural to admit of a doubt of its sincerity, followed the words; and O'Reilly was about to enter the room, when a low dry laugh arrested his steps, and the old man said,--

"Ay! Bob Hickman, did n't I tell you that would do? I knew she 'd cry, and I told you, if she cried one tear, the day was ours!"

There was something so horrible in the baseness of a mind thus revelling in its own duplicity, that even Nalty seemed struck with dread. O'Reilly saw what was pa.s.sing in the other's mind, and, affecting to laugh at these "effects of fatigue and exhaustion," half led, half pushed him from the room, and said "Good-night."

CHAPTER XXIV. THE DOCTOR'S LAST DEVICE.

"Tell Mister Bob--Mr. O'Reilly I mean--to come to me," were the first words of old Dr. Hickman, as he awoke on the following morning.

"Well, sir, how have you slept?" said his son, approaching the bedside, and taking a chair; "have you rested well?"

"Middling,-only middling, Bob. The place is like a vault, and the rats have it all their own way. They were capering about the whole night, and made such a noise trying to steal off with one of my shoes." "Did they venture that far?"

"Ay, did they! but I couldn't let it go with them. I know you 're in a hurry to stand in them yourself, Bob, and leave me and the rats to settle it between us--ay!" "Really, sir, these are jests---"

"Too like earnest to be funny, Bob; so I feel them myself. Ugh! ugh!

The damp of this place is freezing the very heart's blood of me. How is Nalty this morning?" "Like a fellow taken off a wreck, sir, after a week's starvation. He is sitting at the fire there, with two blankets round him, and vows to heaven, every five minutes, that if he was once back in Old Dominick Street, a thousand guineas would n't tempt him to such another expedition."

The old doctor laughed till it made him cough, and when the fit was over, laughed again, wiping his weeping eyes, and chuckling in the most unearthly glee at the lawyer's discomfiture.

"Wrapped up in blankets, eh, Bob?" said he, that he might hear further of his fellow-traveller's misery.

O'Reilly saw that he had touched the right key, and expatiated for some minutes upon Nalty's sufferings, throwing out, from time to time, adroit hints that only certain strong and hale const.i.tutions could endure privations like these. "Now, you, sir," continued he, "you look as much yourself as ever; in fact, I half doubt how you are to play the sick man, with all these signs of rude health about you."

"Leave that to me, Bob; I think I've seen enough of them things to know them now. When I 've carried my point, and all's safe and secure, you 'll see me like the pope we read of, that looked all but dead till they elected him, and then stood up stout and hearty five minutes after,--we 'll have a miracle of this kind in our own family."

"I suspect, sir, we shall have difficulty in obtaining an interview,"

said O'Reilly.

"No!" rejoined the old man, with a scarcely perceptible twinkle of his fishy eyes.

"Nalty 's of my opinion, and thinks that Lady Eleanor will positively decline it."

"No," echoed he once more.

"And that, without any suspicion of our plan, she will yet refuse to receive you."

"I 'm not going to ask her, Bob," croaked the old doctor, with a species of chuckling crow in his voice.

"Then you have abandoned your intention," exclaimed O'Reilly, in dismay, "and the whole journey has been incurred for nothing."

"No!" said the doctor, whose grim old features were lit up with a most spiteful sense of his superior cunning.