Tales and Novels Volume VI Part 22

"Nor I, neither," thought Lord Colambre; but he thanked the young man, and determined to avail himself of Larry's misconception of false report; examined the stones very gravely, and said, "This promises well. Lapis caliminaris, schist, plum-pudding stone, rhomboidal, crystal, blend, garrawachy," and all the strange names he could think of, jumbling them together at a venture.

"The _lase_!" cried the young man, with joy sparkling in his eyes, as his mother held up the packet. "Lend me the papers."

He cracked the seals, and taking off the cover--"Ay, I know it's the _lase_ sure enough. But stay, where's the memorandum?"

"It's there, sure," said his mother, "where my lord's pencil writ it.

I don't read. Grace, dear, look."

The young man put it into her hands, and stood without power to utter a syllable.

"It's not here! It's gone!--no sign of it."

"Gracious Heaven! that can't be," said the old woman, putting on her spectacles; "let me see,'--I remember the very spot."

"It's taken away--it's rubbed clean out!--Oh, wasn't I fool?--But who could have thought he'd be the villain!"

The young man seemed neither to see nor hear, but to be absorbed in thought. Grace, with her eyes fixed upon him, grew as pale as death.--"He'll go--he's gone."

"She's gone!" cried Lord Colambre, and the mother just caught her in her arms as she was falling.

"The chaise is ready, plase your honour," said Larry, coming into the room. "Death! what's here?"

"Air!--she's coming to," said the young man--"Take a drop of water, my own Grace."

"Young man, I promise you," cried Lord Colambre, (speaking in the tone of a master,) striking the young man's shoulder, who was kneeling at Grace's feet, but recollecting and restraining himself, he added, in a quiet voice--"I promise you I shall never forget the hospitality I have received in this house, and I am sorry to be obliged to leave you in distress."

These words uttered with difficulty, he hurried out of the house, and into his carriage. "Go back to them," said he to the postilion: "go back and ask whether, if I should stay a day or two longer in this country, they would let me return at night and lodge with them. And here, man, stay, take this," putting money into his hands, "for the good woman of the house."

The postilion went in, and returned.

"She won't at all--I knew she would not."

"Well, I am obliged to her for the night's lodging she did give me; I have no right to expect more."

"What is it?--Sure she bid me tell you,--'and welcome to the lodging; for,' said she, 'he's a kind-hearted gentleman;' but here's the money; it's that I was telling you she would not have at all."

"Thank you. Now, my good friend, Larry, drive me to Clonbrony, and do not say another word, for I'm not in a talking humour."

Larry nodded, mounted, and drove to Clonbrony. Clonbrony was now a melancholy scene. The houses, which had been built in a better style of architecture than usual, were in a ruinous condition; the das.h.i.+ng was off the walls, no gla.s.s in the windows, and many of the roofs without slates. For the stillness of the place Lord Colambre in some measure accounted, by considering that it was holiday; therefore, of course, all the shops were shut up, and all the people at prayers. He alighted at the inn, which completely answered Larry's representation of it. n.o.body to be seen but a drunken waiter, who, as well as he could articulate, informed Lord Colambre, that "his mistress was in her bed since Thursday-was-a-week; the hostler at the _wash-woman's_, and the cook at second prayers."

Lord Colambre walked to the church, but the church gate was locked and broken--a calf, two pigs, and an a.s.s, in the church-yard; and several boys (with more of skin apparent than clothes) were playing at pitch and toss upon a tombstone, which, upon nearer observation, he saw was the monument of his own family. One of the boys came to the gate, and told Lord Colambre, "There was no use in going into the church, because there was no church there; nor had not been this twelvemonth; beca-ase there was no curate: and the parson was away always, since the lord was at home--that is, was not at home--he nor the family."

Lord Colambre returned to the inn, where, after waiting a considerable time, he gave up the point--he could not get any dinner--and in the evening he walked out again into the town. He found several public-houses, however, open, which were full of people; all of them as busy and as noisy as possible. He observed that the interest was created by an advertis.e.m.e.nt of several farms on the Clonbrony estate, to be set by Nicholas Garraghty, Esq. He could not help smiling at his being witness _incognito_ to various schemes for outwitting the agents, and defrauding the landlord; but, on a sudden, the scene was changed; a boy ran in, crying out, that "St. Dennis was riding down the hill into the town; and, if you would not have the licence," said the boy, "take care of yourself, Brannagan." "_If you wouldn't have the licence_," Lord Colambre perceived, by what followed, meant, "_If you have not a licence_." Brannagan immediately s.n.a.t.c.hed an untasted gla.s.s of whiskey from a customer's lips (who cried, murder!), gave it and the bottle he held in his hand to his wife, who swallowed the spirits, and ran away with the bottle and gla.s.s into some back hole; whilst the bystanders laughed, saying, "Well thought of, Peggy!"

"Clear out all of you at the back door, for the love of Heaven, if you wouldn't be the ruin of me," said the man of the house, setting a ladder to a corner of the shop. "Phil, hoist me up the keg to the loft," added he, running up the ladder; "and one of _yees_ step up street, and give Rose McGivney notice, for she's selling, too."

The keg was hoisted up; the ladder removed; the shop cleared of all the customers; the shutters shut; the door barred; the counter cleaned.

"Lift your stones, sir, if you plase," said the wife, as she rubbed the counter, "and say nothing of what you _seen_ at all; but that you're a stranger and a traveller seeking a lodging, if you're questioned, or waiting to see Mr. Dennis. There's no smell of whiskey in it now, is there, sir?"

Lord Colambre could not flatter her so far as to say this--he could only hope no one would perceive it.

"Oh, and if he would, the smell of whiskey was nothing," as the wife affirmed, "for it was every where in nature, and no proof again' any one, good or bad."

"Now, St. Dennis may come when he will, or Old Nick himself!" So she tied up a blue handkerchief over her head, and had the toothache "very bad."

Lord Colambre turned to look for the man of the house.

"He's safe in bed," said the wife.

"In bed! When?"

"Whilst you turned your head, while I was tying the handkerchief over my face. Within the room, look, he is snug."

And there he was in bed certainly, and his clothes on the chest.

A knock, a loud knock at the door.

"St. Dennis himself!--Stay, till I unbar the door," said the woman; and, making a great difficulty, she let him in, groaning and saying.

"We was all done up for the night, _plase_ your honour, and myself with the toothache, very bad--And the lodger, that's going to take an egg only, before he'd go into his bed. My man's in it, and asleep long ago."

With a magisterial air, though with a look of blank disappointment, Mr. Dennis Garraghty walked on, looked into _the room_, saw the good man of the house asleep, heard him snore, and then, returning, asked Lord Colambre, "who he was, and what brought him there?"

Our hero said, he was from England, and a traveller; and now, bolder grown as a geologist, he talked of his specimens, and his hopes of finding a mine in the neighbouring mountains; then adopting, as well as he could, the servile tone and abject manner, in which he found Mr.

Dennis was to be addressed, "he hoped he might get encouragement from the gentlemen at the head of the estate."

"To bore, is it?--Well, don't _bore_ me about it. I can't give you any answer now, my good friend; I am engaged."

Out he strutted. "Stick to him up the town, if you have a mind to get your answer," whispered the woman. Lord Colambre followed, for he wished to see the end of this scene.

"Well, sir, what are you following and sticking to me, like my shadow, for?" said Mr. Dennis, turning suddenly upon Lord Colambre.

His lords.h.i.+p bowed low. "Waiting for my answer, sir, when you are at leisure. Or, may I call upon you to-morrow?"

"You seem to be a civil kind of fellow; but, as to boring, I don't know--if you undertake it at your own expense. I dare say there may be minerals in the ground. Well, you may call at the castle to-morrow, and when my brother has done with the tenantry, I'll speak to him _for_ you, and we'll consult together, and see what we think. It's too late to-night. In Ireland, n.o.body speaks to a gentleman about business after dinner,--your servant, sir; any body can show you the way to the castle in the morning." And, pus.h.i.+ng by his lords.h.i.+p, he called to a man on the other side of the street, who had obviously been waiting for him; he went under a gateway with this man, and gave him a bag of guineas. He then called for his horse, which was brought to him by a man whom Lord Colambre had heard declaring that he would bid for the land that was advertised; whilst another, who had the same intentions, most respectfully held his stirrup, whilst he mounted without thanking either of these men. St. Dennis clapped spurs to his steed, and rode away. No thanks, indeed, were deserved; for the moment he was out of hearing, both cursed him after the manner of their country.

"Bad luck go with you, then!--And may you break your neck before you get home, if it was not for the _lase_ I'm to get, and that's paid for."

Lord Colambre followed the crowd into a public-house, where a new scene presented itself to his view.

The man to whom St. Dennis gave the bag of gold was now selling this very gold to the tenants, who were to pay their rent next day at the castle.

The agent would take nothing but gold. The same guineas were bought and sold several times over, to the great profit of the agent and loss of the poor tenants; for as the rents were paid, the guineas were resold to another set: and the remittances made through bankers to the landlord, who, as the poor man that explained the transaction to Lord Colambre expressed it, "gained nothing by the business, bad or good, but the ill-will of the tenantry."

The higgling for the price of the gold; the time lost in disputing about the goodness of the notes, among some poor tenants, who could not read or write, and who were at the mercy of the man with the bag in his hand; the vexation, the useless hara.s.sing of all who were obliged to submit ultimately--Lord Colambre saw: and all this time he endured the smell of tobacco and whiskey, and the sound of various brogues, the din of men wrangling, brawling, threatening, whining, drawling, cajoling, cursing, and every variety of wretchedness.

"And is this my father's town of Clonbrony?" thought Lord Colambre.

"Is this Ireland? No, it is not Ireland. Let me not, like most of those who forsake their native country, traduce it. Let me not, even to my own mind, commit the injustice of taking a speck for the whole.

What I have just seen is the picture only of that to which an Irish estate and Irish tenantry may be degraded in the absence of those whose duty and interest it is to reside in Ireland, to uphold justice by example and authority; but who, neglecting this duty, commit power to bad hands and bad hearts--abandon their tenantry to oppression, and their property to ruin."