The Absentee Part 22

'But, if he does not live amongst you himself, has not he some under-agent, who lives in the country?' said Lord Colambre.

'He has so.'

'And he should know your concerns: does he mind them?'

'He should know--he should know better; but as to minding our concerns, your honour knows,' continued she, smiling again, 'every one in this world must mind their own concerns; and it would be a good world, if it was even so. There's a great deal in all things, that don't appear at first sight. Mr. Dennis wanted Grace for a wife for his bailiff; but she would not have him; and Mr. Dennis was very sweet to her himself--but Grace is rather high with him as proper, and he has a grudge AGAIN' us ever since. Yet, indeed, there,' added she, after another pause, 'as you say, I think we are safe; for we have that memorandum in writing, with a pencil, given under his own hand, on the back of the LASE, to me, by the same token when my good lord had his foot on the step of the coach, going away; and I'll never forget the smile of her that got that good turn done for me, Miss Grace. And just when she was going to England and London, and, young as she was, to have the thought to stop and turn to the likes of me! Oh, then, if you could see her, and know her, as I did!

THAT was the comforting angel upon earth--look and voice, and heart and all! Oh, that she was here present, this minute!--But did you scald yourself?' said the widow to Lord Colambre. 'Sure you must have scalded yourself; for you poured the kettle straight over your hand, and it boiling!--O DEEAR! to think of so young a gentleman's hand shaking so like my own.

Luckily, to prevent her pursuing her observations from the hand to the face, which might have betrayed more than Lord Colambre wished she should know, her own Grace came in at this instant.

'There it's for you, safe, mother dear--the LASE!' said Grace, throwing a packet into her lap. The old woman lifted up her hands to heaven, with the lease between them.--'Thanks be to Heaven!' Grace pa.s.sed on, and sunk down on the first seat she could reach. Her face flushed, and, looking much fatigued, she loosened the strings of her bonnet and cloak--'Then, I'm tired;' but, recollecting herself, she rose, and curtsied to the gentleman.

'What tired ye, dear?'

'Why, after prayers, we had to go--for the agent was not at prayers, nor at home for us, when we called--we had to go all the way up to the castle; and there, by great good luck, we found Mr. Nick Garraghty himself, come from Dublin, and the LASE in his hands; and he sealed it up that way, and handed it to me very civil. I never saw him so good--though he offered me a gla.s.s of spirits, which was not manners to a decent young woman, in a morning--as Brian noticed after. Brian would not take any either, nor never does. We met Mr. Dennis and the driver coming home; and he says, the rent must be paid to-morrow, or, instead of renewing, he'll seize and sell all. Mother dear, I would have dropped with the walk, but for Brian's arm.'--'It's a wonder, dear, what makes you so weak, that used to be so strong,'--'But if we can sell the cow for anything at all to Mr. Dennis, since his eye is set upon her, better let him have her, mother dear; and that and my yarn, which Mrs.

Garraghty says she'll allow me for, will make up the rent--and Brian need not talk of America. But it must be in golden guineas, the agent will take the rent no other way; and you won't get a guinea for less than five s.h.i.+llings. Well, even so, it's easy selling my new gown to one that covets it, and that will give me in exchange the price of the gold; or, suppose that would not do, add this cloak,--it's handsome, and I know a friend would be glad to take it, and I'd part it as ready as look at it--Any-thing at all, sure, rather than that he should be forced to talk of emigrating; or, oh, worse again, listing for the bounty--to save us from the cant or the jail, by going to the hospital, or his grave, maybe--Oh, mother!'

'Oh, child! This is what makes you weak, fretting. Don't be that way.

Sure here's the LASE, and that's good comfort; and the soldiers will be gone out of Clonbrony to-morrow, and then that's off your mind. And as to America, it's only talk--I won't let him, he's dutiful; and would sooner sell my dresser and down to my bed, dear, than see you sell anything of yours, love. Promise me you won't. Why didn't Brian come home all the way with you, Grace?'

'He would have seen me home,' said Grace,' only that he went up a piece of the mountain for some stones or ore for the gentleman--for he had the manners to think of him this morning, though, shame for me, I had not, when I come in, or I would not have told you all this, and he himself by. See, there he is, mother.'

Brian came in very hot, out of breath, with his hat full of stones.

'Good morrow to your honour. I was in bed last night; and sorry they did not call me up to be of SARVICE. Larry was telling us, this morning, your honour's from Wales, and looking for mines in Ireland, and I heard talk that there was one on our mountain--maybe, you'd be CUROUS to see, and so I brought the best I could, but I'm no judge.'

'Nor I, neither,' thought Lord Colambre; but he thanked the young man, and determined to avail himself of Larry's misconception or 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!--Is it?' cried the young man, with joy sparkling in his eyes, as his mother held up the packet. 'Then all's safe! and he's an honest man, and shame on me, that could suspect he meant us wrong. Lend me the papers.'

He cracked the seals, and taking off the cover,--'It's the LASE, sure enough. Shame on me!--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 postillion; '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 postillion 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 is 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 Sunday; 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 churchyard; and several boys (with more of skin apparent than clothes) were playing at hustlecap 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, becaase there was no church there; nor had not been this twelvemonth; becaase 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 ale-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 license,' said the boy, 'take care of yourself.'

'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 whisky 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 M'Givney 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 whisky 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 whisky was nothing,' as the wife affirmed, 'for it was everywhere 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.'