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"On that point, perhaps, sir, you and I may differ."
"Very well, my lord, you will follow your own principles, if it suits your convenience."
"Whether it does or not, sir, I shall abide by my principles."
"Dennis! the letters to the post--When do you go to England, my lord?"
"Immediately, sir," said Lord Colambre: his lords.h.i.+p saw new leases from his father to Mr. Dennis Garraghty, lying on the table, unsigned.
"Immediately!" repeated Messrs. Nicholas and Dennis, with an air of dismay. Nicholas got up, looked out of the window, and whispered something to his brother, who instantly left the room.
Lord Colambre saw the postchaise at the door, which had brought Mrs.
Raffarty to the castle, and Larry standing beside it: his lords.h.i.+p instantly threw up the sash, and holding between his finger and thumb a six s.h.i.+lling piece, cried, "Larry, my friend, let me have the horses."
"You shall have 'em--your honour," said Larry.
Mr. Dennis Garraghty appeared below, speaking in a magisterial tone.
"Larry, my brother must have the horses."
"He can't, _plase_ your honour--they're engaged."
"Half a crown!--a crown!--half a guinea!" said Mr. Dennis Garraghty, raising his voice, as he increased his proffered bribe. To each offer Larry replied, "You can't, _plase_ your honour, they're engaged;" and, looking up to the window at Lord Colambre, he said, "As soon as they have ate their oats, you shall have 'em."
No other horses were to be had. The agent was in consternation. Lord Colambre ordered that Larry should have some dinner, and whilst the postilion was eating, and the horses finished their oats, his lords.h.i.+p wrote the following letter to his father, which, to prevent all possibility of accident, he determined to put, with his own hand, into the post-office at Clonbrony, as he pa.s.sed through the town.
"MY DEAR FATHER,
"I hope to be with you in a few days. Lest any thing should detain me on the road, I write this, to make an earnest request, that you will not sign any papers, or transact any farther business with Messrs. Nicholas or Dennis Garraghty before you see
"Your affectionate son,
"COLAMBRE."
The horses came out. Larry sent word he was ready, and Lord Colambre, having first eaten a slice of his own venison, ran down to the carriage, followed by the thanks and blessings of the widow, her son, and daughter, who could hardly make their way after him to the chaise-door, so great was the crowd which had gathered on the report of his lords.h.i.+p's arrival.
"Long life to your honour! Long life to your lords.h.i.+p!" echoed on all sides. "Just come, and going, are you?"
"Good bye to you all, good people!"
"Then _good bye_ is the only word we wouldn't wish to hear from your honour."
"For the sake both of landlord and tenant, I must leave you now, my good friends; but I hope to return to you at some future time."
"G.o.d bless you! and speed ye! and a safe journey to your honour!--and a happy return to us, and soon!" cried a mult.i.tude of voices.
Lord Colambre stopped at the chaise-door, and beckoned to the widow O'Neil, before whom others had pressed. An opening was made for her instantly.
"There! that was the very way his father stood, with his foot on the step. And Miss Nugent was _in it_."
Lord Colambre forgot what he was going to say,--with some difficulty recollected. "This pocket-book," said he, "which your son restored to me--I intend it for your daughter--don't keep it as your son kept it for me, without opening it. Let what is withinside," added he, as he got into the carriage, "replace the cloak and gown, and let all things necessary for a bride be bought; 'for the bride that has all things to borrow has surely mickle to do.' Shut the door, and drive on."
"Blessings be _wid_ you," cried the widow, "and G.o.d give you grace!"
CHAPTER XIII.
Larry drove off at full gallop, and kept on at a good rate, till he got out of the great gate, and beyond the sight of the crowd: then, pulling up, he turned to Lord Colambre--"_Plase_ your honour, I did not know nor guess ye was my lord, when I let you have the horses: did not know who you was from Adam, I'll take my affidavit."
"There's no occasion," said Lord Colambre; "I hope you don't repent letting me have the horses, now you do know who I am?"
"Oh! not at all, sure: I'm as glad as the best horse ever I crossed, that your honour is my lord--but I was only telling your honour, that you might not be looking upon me as a _timesarver_."
"I do not look upon you as a _timesarver_, Larry; but keep on, that time may serve me."
In two words, he explained his cause of haste; and no sooner explained than understood. Larry thundered away through the town of Clonbrony, bending over his horses, plying the whip, and lending his very soul at every lash. With much difficulty, Lord Colambre stopped him at the end of the town, at the post-office. The post was gone out--gone a quarter of an hour.
"May be, we'll overtake the mail," said Larry: and, as he spoke, he slid down from his seat, and darted into the public-house, re-appearing, in a few moments, with a _copper_ of ale and a horn in his hand: he and another man held open the horses' mouths, and poured the ale through the horn down their throats.
"Now, they'll go with spirit!"
And, with the hope of overtaking the mail, Larry made them go "for life or death," as he said: but in vain! At the next stage, at his own inn-door, Larry roared for fresh horses till he, got them, harnessed them with his own hands, holding the six s.h.i.+lling piece, which Lord Colambre had given him, in his mouth, all the while: for he could not take time to put it into his pocket.
"Speed ye! I wish I was driving you all the way, then," said he.
The other postilion was not yet ready. "Then your honour sees,"
said he, putting his head into the carriage, "_consarning_ of them Garraghties--Old Nick and St. Dennis--the best part, that is, the worst part, of what I told you, proved true; and I'm glad of it, that is, I'm sorry for it--but glad your honour knows it in time. So Heaven prosper you! And may all the saints (_barring_ St. Dennis) have charge of you, and all belonging to you, till we see you here again!--And when will it be?"
"I cannot say when I shall return to you myself, but I will do my best to send your landlord to you soon. In the mean time, my good fellow, keep away from the sign of the Horseshoe--a man of your sense to drink and make an idiot and a brute of yourself!"
"True!--And it was only when I had lost hope I took to it--but now!
Bring me the book one of _yees_, out of the landlady's parlour. By the virtue of this book, and by all the books that ever was shut and opened, I won't touch a drop of spirits, good or bad, till I see your honour again, or some of the family, this time twelvemonth--that long I live on hope,--but mind, if you disappoint me, I don't swear but I'll take to the whiskey for comfort, all the rest of my days. But don't be staying here, wasting your time, advising me. Bartley! take the reins, can't ye?" cried he, giving them to the fresh postilion; "and keep on, for your life, for there's thousands of pounds depending on the race--so off, off, Bartley, with speed of light!"
Bartley did his best; and such was the excellence of the roads, that, notwithstanding the rate at which our hero travelled, he arrived safely in Dublin, just in time to put his letter into the post-office, and to sail in that night's packet. The wind was fair when Lord Colambre went on board, but before they got out of the Bay it changed; they made no way all night: in the course of the next day, they had the mortification to see another packet from Dublin sail past them, and when they landed at Holyhead, were told the packet, which had left Ireland twelve hours after them, had been in an hour before them.
The pa.s.sengers had taken their places in the coach, and engaged what horses could be had. Lord Colambre was afraid that Mr. Garraghty was one of them; a person exactly answering his description had taken four horses, and set out half an hour before in great haste for London.
Luckily, just as those who had taken their places in the mail were getting into the coach, Lord Colambre saw among them a gentleman, with whom he had been acquainted in Dublin, a barrister, who was come over during the long vacation, to make a tour of pleasure in England. When Lord Colambre explained the reason he had for being in haste to reach London, he had the good-nature to give up to him his place in the coach. Lord Colambre travelled all night, and delayed not one moment, till he reached his father's house, in London.
"My father at home?"
"Yes, my lord, in his own room--the agent from Ireland with him, on particular business--desired not to be interrupted--but I'll go and tell him, my lord, you are come."
Lord Colambre ran past the servant, as he spoke--made his way into the room--found his father, Sir Terence O'Fay, and Mr. Garraghty--leases open on the table before them; a candle lighted; Sir Terence sealing; Garraghty emptying a bag of guineas on the table, and Lord Clonbrony actually with a pen in his hand, ready to sign.
As the door opened, Garraghty started back, so that half the contents of his bag rolled upon the floor.
"Stop, my dear father, I conjure you," cried Lord Colambre, springing forward, and s.n.a.t.c.hing the pen from his father's hand.
"Colambre! G.o.d bless you, my dear boy! at all events. But how came you here?--And what do you mean?" said his father.