The Absentee Part 15

Now I understand the reason why my mother evidently never wished that I should think of Miss Nugent--why she always spoke so vehemently against the marriages of relations, of cousins. Why not tell me the truth? It would have had the strongest effect, had she known my mind.'

Lord Colambre had the greatest dread of marrying any woman whose mother had conducted herself ill. His reason, his prejudices, his pride, his delicacy, and even his limited experience, were all against it. All his hopes, his plans of future happiness, were shaken to their very foundation; he felt as if he had received a blow that stunned his mind, and from which he could not recover his faculties. The whole of that day he was like one in a dream. At night the painful idea continually recurred to him; and whenever he was falling asleep, the sound of Lady Dashfort's voice returned upon his ear, saying the words, 'What could he expect when he married one of the St. Omars? None of the women SANS REPROCHE.'

In the morning he rose early; and the first thing he did was to write a letter to his mother, requesting (unless there was some important reason for her declining to answer the question) that she would immediately relieve his mind from a great UNEASINESS (he altered the word four times, but at last left it UNEASINESS). He stated what he had heard, and besought his mother to tell him the whole truth, without reserve.

CHAPTER VIII

One morning Lady Dashfort had formed an ingenious scheme for leaving Lady Isabel and Lord Colambre TETE-A-TETE; but the sudden entrance of Heathc.o.c.k disconcerted her intentions. He came to beg Lady Dashfort's interest with Count O'Halloran, for permission to hunt and shoot on his grounds.--'Not for myself, 'pon honour, but for two officers who are quartered at the next town here, who will indubitably hang or drown themselves if they are debarred from sporting.'

'Who is this Count O'Halloran?' said Lord Colambre. Miss White, Lady Killpatrick's companion, said 'he was a great oddity;' Lady Dashfort, 'that he was singular;' and the clergyman of the parish, who was at breakfast, declared 'that he was a man of uncommon knowledge, merit, and politeness.'

'All I know of him,' said Heathc.o.c.k, 'is, that he is a great sportsman, with a long queue, a gold-laced hat, and long skirts to a laced waistcoat.' Lord Colambre expressed a wish to see this extraordinary personage; and Lady Dashfort, to cover her former design, and, perhaps, thinking absence might be as effectual as too much propinquity, immediately offered to call upon the officers in their way, and carry them with Heathc.o.c.k and Lord Colambre to Halloran Castle.

Lady Isabel retired with much mortification, but with becoming grace; and Captain Benson and Captain Williamson were taken to the count's.

Captain Benson, who was a famous WHIP, took his seat on the box of the barouche, and the rest of the party had the pleasure of her ladys.h.i.+p's conversation for three or four miles: of her ladys.h.i.+p's conversation--for Lord Colambre's thoughts were far distant; Captain Williamson had not anything to say; and Heathc.o.c.k nothing but, 'Eh!

re'lly now!--'pon honour!'

They arrived at Halloran Castle--a fine old building, part of it in ruins, and part repaired with great judgment and taste. When the carriage stopped, a respectable-looking man-servant appeared on the steps, at the open hall-door.

Count O'Halloran was out a-hunting; but his servant said 'that he would be at home immediately, if Lady Dashfort and the gentlemen would be pleased to walk in.'

On one side of the lofty and s.p.a.cious hall stood the skeleton of an elk; on the other side, the perfect skeleton of a moose-deer, which, as the servant said, his master had made out, with great care, from the different bones of many of this curious species of deer, found in the lakes in the neighbourhood. The brace of officers witnessed their wonder with sundry strange oaths and exclamations.--'Eh! 'pon honour--re'lly now!' said Heathc.o.c.k; and, too genteel to wonder at or admire anything in the creation, dragged out his watch with some difficulty, saying, 'I wonder now whether they are likely to think of giving us anything to eat in this place?' And, turning his back upon the moose-deer, he straight walked out again upon the steps, called to his groom, and began to make some inquiry about his led horse. Lord Colambre surveyed the prodigious skeletons with rational curiosity, and with that sense of awe and admiration, by which a superior mind is always struck on beholding any of the great works of Providence.

'Come, my dear lord!' said Lady Dashfort; 'with our sublime sensations, we are keeping my old friend, Mr. Alick Brady, this venerable person, waiting, to show us into the reception-room.'

The servant bowed respectfully--more respectfully than servants of modern date.

'My lady, the reception-room has been lately painted--the smell of paint may be disagreeable; with your leave, I will take the liberty of showing you into my master's study.'

He opened the door, went in before her, and stood holding up his finger, as if making a signal of silence to some one within. Her ladys.h.i.+p entered, and found herself in the midst of an odd a.s.sembly: an eagle, a goat, a dog, an otter, several gold and silver fish in a gla.s.s globe, and a white mouse in a cage. The eagle, quick of eye but quiet of demeanour, was perched upon his stand; the otter lay under the table, perfectly harmless; the Angora goat, a beautiful and remarkably little creature of its kind, with long, curling, silky hair, was walking about the room with the air of a beauty and a favourite; the dog, a tall Irish greyhound--one of the few of that fine race which is now almost extinct--had been given to Count O'Halloran by an Irish n.o.bleman, a relation of Lady Dashfort's. This dog, who had formerly known her ladys.h.i.+p, looked at her with ears erect, recognised her, and went to meet her the moment she entered. The servant answered for the peaceable behaviour of all the rest of the company of animals, and retired. Lady Dashfort began to feed the eagle from a silver plate on his stand; Lord Colambre examined the inscription on his collar; the other men stood in amaze. Heathc.o.c.k, who came in last, astonished out of his constant 'Eh! re'lly now!' the moment he put himself in at the door, exclaimed, 'Zounds! what's all this live lumber?' and he stumbled over the goat, who was at that moment crossing the way. The colonel's spur caught in the goat's curly beard; the colonel shook his foot, and entangled the spur worse and worse; the goat struggled and b.u.t.ted; the colonel skated forward on the polished oak floor, balancing himself with outstretched arms.

The indignant eagle screamed, and, pa.s.sing by, perched on Heathc.o.c.k's shoulders. Too well-bred to have recourse to the terrors of his beak, he scrupled not to scream, and flap his wings about the colonel's ears.

Lady Dashfort, the while, threw herself back in her chair, laughing, and begging Heathc.o.c.k's pardon. 'Oh, take care of the dog, my dear colonel!'

cried she; 'for this kind of dog seizes his enemy by the back, and shakes him to death.' The officers, holding their sides, laughed, and begged--no pardon; while Lord Colambre, the only person who was not absolutely incapacitated, tried to disentangle the spur, and to liberate the colonel from the goat, and the goat from the colonel; an attempt in which he at last succeeded, at the expense of a considerable portion of the goat's beard. The eagle, however, still kept his place; and, yet mindful of the wrongs of his insulted friend the goat, had stretched his wings to give another buffet. Count O'Halloran entered; and the bird, quitting his prey, flew down to greet his master. The count was a fine old military-looking gentleman, fresh from the chace: his hunting accoutrements hanging carelessly about him, he advanced, unembarra.s.sed, to the lady; and received his other guests with a mixture of military ease and gentleman-like dignity.

Without adverting to the awkward and ridiculous situation in which he had found poor Heathc.o.c.k, he apologised in general for his troublesome favourites. 'For one of them,' said he, patting the head of the dog, which lay quiet at Lady Dashfort's feet, 'I see I have no need to apologise; he is where he ought to be. Poor fellow! he has never lost his taste for the good company to which he was early accustomed. As to the rest,' said he, turning to Lady Dashfort, 'a mouse, a bird, and a fish, are, you know, tribute from earth, air, and water, for my conqueror--'

'But from no barbarous Scythian!' said Lord Colambre, smiling. The count looked at Lord Colambre, as at a person worthy his attention; but his first care was to keep the peace between his loving subjects and his foreign visitors. It was difficult to dislodge the old settlers, to make room for the newcomers; but he adjusted these things with admirable facility; and, with a master's hand and master's eye, compelled each favourite to retreat into the back settlements. With becoming attention, he stroked and kept quiet old Victory, his eagle, who eyed Colonel Heathc.o.c.k still, as if he did not like him; and whom the colonel eyed, as if he wished his neck fairly wrung off. The little goat had nestled himself close up to his liberator, Lord Colambre, and lay perfectly quiet, with his eyes closed, going very wisely to sleep, and submitting philosophically to the loss of one half of his beard. Conversation now commenced, and was carried on by Count O'Halloran with much ability and spirit, and with such quickness of discrimination and delicacy of taste, as quite surprised and delighted our hero. To the lady, the count's attention was first directed: he listened to her as she spoke, bending with an air of deference and devotion. She made her request for permission for Major Benson and Captain Williamson to hunt and shoot in his grounds; this was instantly granted.

'Her ladys.h.i.+p's requests were to him commands,' the count said. 'His gamekeeper should be instructed to give the gentlemen, her friends, every liberty, and all possible a.s.sistance.'

Then turning to the officers, he said he had just heard that several regiments of English militia had lately landed in Ireland; that one regiment was arrived at Killpatrickstown. He rejoiced in the advantages Ireland, and he hoped he might be permitted to add, England, would probably derive from the exchange of the militia of both countries; habits would be improved, ideas enlarged. The two countries have the same interest; and, from the inhabitants discovering more of each other's good qualities, and interchanging little good offices in common life, their esteem and affection for each other would increase, and rest upon the firm basis of mutual utility.'

To all this Major Benson and Captain Williamson made no reply.

'The major looks so like a stuffed man of straw,' whispered Lady Dashfort to Lord Colambre; 'and the captain so like the knave of clubs, putting forth one manly leg.'

Count O'Halloran now turned the conversation to field sports, and then the captain and major opened at once.

'Pray now, sir?' said the major, 'you fox-hunt in this country, I suppose; and now do you manage the thing here as we do? Over night, you know, before the hunt, when the fox is out, stopping up the earths of the cover we mean to draw, and all the rest for four miles round. Next morning we a.s.semble at the cover's side, and the huntsman throws in the hounds. The gossip here is no small part of the entertainment; but as soon as we hear the hounds give tongue--'

'The favourite hounds,' interposed Williamson.

'The favourite hounds, to be sure,' continued Benson; 'there is a dead silence, till pug is well out of cover, and the whole pack well in; then cheer the hounds with tally-ho! till your lungs crack. Away he goes in gallant style, and the whole field is hard up, till pug takes a stiff country; then they who haven't pluck lag, see no more of him, and, with a fine blazing scent, there are but few of us in at the death.'

'Well, we are fairly in at the death, I hope,' said Lady Dashfort; 'I was thrown out sadly at one time in the chace.'

Lord Colambre, with the count's permission, took up a book in which the count's pencil lay, PASLEY ON THE MILITARY POLICY OF GREAT BRITAIN; it was marked with many notes of admiration, and with hands pointing to remarkable pa.s.sages.

'That is a book that leaves a strong impression on the mind,' said the count.

Lord Colambre read one of the marked pa.s.sages, beginning with, 'All that distinguishes a soldier in outward appearance from a citizen is so trifling--' but at this instant our hero's attention was distracted by seeing in a black-letter book this t.i.tle of a chapter:

'Burial-place of the Nugents.' 'Pray now, sir,' said Captain Williamson, 'if I don't interrupt you, as you are such a famous fox-hunter, maybe, you may be a fisherman too; and now in Ireland do you, MR.--'

A smart pinch on his elbow from his major, who stood behind him, stopped the captain short, as he p.r.o.nounced the word MR. Like all awkward people, he turned directly to ask, by his looks, what was the matter?

The major took advantage of his discomfiture, and, stepping before him, determined to have the fis.h.i.+ng to himself, and went on with--

'Count O'Halloran, I presume you understand fis.h.i.+ng too, as well as hunting?'

The count bowed: 'I do not presume to say that, sir.'

'But pray, count, in this country, do you arm your hook this ways? Give me leave;' taking the whip from Williamson's reluctant hand, 'this ways, laying the outermost part of your feather this fas.h.i.+on next to your hook, and the point next to your shank, this wise, and that wise; and then, sir,--count, you take the hackle of a c.o.c.k's neck----'

'A plover's topping's better,' said Williamson.

'And work your gold and silver thread,' pursued Benson, 'up to your wings, and when your head's made, you fasten all.'

'But you never showed how your head's made,' interrupted Williamson.

'The gentleman knows how a head's made; any man can make a head, I suppose; so, sir, you fasten all.'

'You'll never get your head fast on that way, while the world stands,'

cried Williamson.

'Fast enough for all purposes; I'll bet you a rump and dozen, captain; and then, sir,--count, you divide your wings with a needle.'

'A pin's point will do,' said Williamson.

The count, to reconcile matters, produced from an Indian cabinet, which he had opened for the lady's inspection, a little basket containing a variety of artificial flies of curious construction, which, as he spread them on the table, made Williamson and Benson's eyes almost sparkle with delight. There was the DUN-FLY, for the month of March; and the STONE-FLY, much in vogue for April; and the RUDDY-FLY, of red wool, black silk, and red capon's feathers.

Lord Colambre, whose head was in the burial-place of the Nugents, wished them all at the bottom of the sea.

'And the GREEN-FLY, and the MOORISH-FLY!' cried Benson, s.n.a.t.c.hing them up with transport; 'and, chief, the SAD-YELLOW-FLY, in which the fish delight in June; the SAD-YELLOW-FLY, made with the buzzard's wings, bound with black braked hemp, and the Sh.e.l.l-FLY for the middle of July, made of greenish wool, wrapped about with the herle of a peac.o.c.k's tail, famous for creating excellent sport.' All these and more were spread upon the table before the sportsmen's wondering eyes.

'Capital flies! capital, faith!' cried Williamson.