Jack Hinton Part 39

'I am anxiously looking out for Corny,' said he, 'and a great letter-bag from Ireland--the only bit of news from which, except your own, is that the Rooneys have gone into deep mourning, themselves and their whole house. Various rumours are afloat as to whether any money speculations of Paul's may have suggested the propriety of retrenchment, or whether there may not have been a death in the royal family of OToole. Look to this for me, Hinton; for even in Canada I shall preserve the memory of that capital house, its excellent _cuisine_, its charming hostess.

Cultivate them, my dear Jack, for your sake and for mine. One Rembrandt is as good as a gallery; so sit down before them, and make a study of the family.'

The letter concluded as it began, by hearty thanks for the service I had rendered him, begging me to accept of Moddiridderoo as a souvenir of his friends.h.i.+p. And in a postscript, to write which the letter had evidently been reopened, was a warning to me against any chance collision with Ulick Burke.

'Not, my dear boy, because he is a dead shot--although that same is something--but that a quarrel with him could scarcely be reputable in its commencement, and must be bad whatever the result.'

After some further cautioning on this matter, the justice of which was tolerably evident from my own experience, O'Grady concluded with a hurried postscript:--

'Corny has not yet arrived, and we have received our orders for embarkation within twenty-four hours. I begin half to despair of his being here in time. Should this be the case, will you, my dear Hinton, look after the old villain for me, at least until I write to you again on the subject?'

While I was yet pondering on these last few lines, I perceived that a card had fallen from my father's letter. I took it up, and what was my astonishment to find that it contained a correct likeness of Corny Delany, drawn with a pen, underneath which was written, in my cousin Julia's hand, the following few lines:--

'The dear old thing has waited three days, and I think I have at length caught something like him. Dear Jack, if the master be only equal to the man, we shall never forgive you for not letting us see him.--Yours, Julia.'

[Ill.u.s.tration: 367]

This, of course, explained the secret of Corny's delay--my cousin, with her habitual wilfulness, preferring the indulgence of a caprice to anything resembling a duty; and I now had little doubt upon my mind that O'Grady's fears were well founded, and that he had been obliged to sail without his follower.

The exertion it cost me to read my letters, and the excitement produced by their perusal, fatigued and exhausted me, and as I sank back upon my pillow I closed my eyes and fell sound asleep, not to wake until late on the following day. But strange enough, when I did so, it was with a head clear and faculties collected, my mind refreshed by rest unbroken by a single dream; and so restored did I feel, that, save in the debility from long confinement to bed, I was unconscious of any sense of malady.

From this hour my recovery dated. Advancing every day with rapid steps, my strength increased; and before a week elapsed, I so far regained my lost health that I could move about my chamber, and even lay plans for my departure.

CHAPTER x.x.xII. BOB MAHON AND THE WIDOW

It was about eight or ten days after the events I have mentioned, when Father Tom Loftus, whose care and attention to me had been unceasing throughout, came in to inform me that all the preparations for our journey were properly made, and that by the following morning at sunrise we should be on the road.

I confess that I looked forward to my departure with anxiety. The dreary monotony of each day, spent either in perambulating my little room or in a short walk up and down before the inn door, had done more to depress and dispirit me than even the previous illness. The good priest, it is true, came often to see me; but then there were hours spent quite alone, without the solace of a book or the sight of even a newspaper. I knew the face of every man, woman, and child in the village; I could tell their haunts, their habits, and their occupations. Even the very hours of the tedious day were marked in my mind by various little incidents, that seemed to recur with unbroken precision; and if when the pale apothecary disappeared from over the half-door of his shop I knew that he was engaged at his one o'clock dinner, so the clink of the old ladies' pattens, as they pa.s.sed to an evening tea, told me that the day was waning, when the town-clock should strike seven. There was nothing to break the monotonous jog-trot of daily life save the appearance of a few raw subalterns, who, from some cause or other, less noticed than others of the regiment by the neighbouring gentry, strolled about the town, quizzing and laughing at the humble townsfolk, and endeavouring, by looks of most questionable gallantry, to impress the female population with a sense of their merits.

After all, mankind is pretty much the same in every country and every age--some men ambitioning the credit of virtues the very garb of which they know not; others, and a large cla.s.s too, seeking for the reputation of vices the world palliates with the appellation of 'fas.h.i.+onable.' We laugh at the old courtier of Louis xiv.'s time, who in the flattery of the age he lived in preferred being called a _scelerat_, an _infame scelerat_, that by the excesses _he_ professed the vicious habits of the sovereign might seem less striking; and yet we see the very same thing under our own eyes every day we live.

But to return. There was nothing to delay me longer at Loughrea. Poor Joe was so nearly recovered that in a few days more it was hoped he might leave his bed. He was in kind hands, however, and I had taken every precaution that he should want for nothing in my absence.

I listened, then, with pleasure to Father Tom's detail of all his preparations; and although I knew not whither we were going, nor how long the journey was likely to prove, yet I looked forward to it with pleasure, and only longed for the hour of setting out.

As the evening drew near, I looked anxiously out for the good father's arrival. He had promised to come in early with Major Mahon, whom I had not seen for the two days previous--the Major being deeply engaged in consultations with his lawyer regarding an approaching trial at the a.s.sizes. Although I could gather from his manner, as well as from the priest's, that something of moment impended, yet as neither of them more than alluded to the circ.u.mstance, I knew nothing of what was going forward.

It was eight o'clock when Father Tom made his appearance. He came alone, and by his flurried look and excited manner I saw there was something wrong.

'What is it, father?' said I. 'Where is the Major?'

'Och, confound him! they have taken him at last,' said he, wiping his forehead with agitation.

'Taken him!' said I. 'Why, was he hiding?'

'Hiding! to be sure he was hiding, and masquerading and disguising himself! But, 'faith, those Clare fellows, there's no coming up to them; they have such practice in their own county, they would take the devil himself if there was a writ out against him. And, to be sure, it was a clever trick they played old Bob.'

Here the good priest took such a fit of laughing that he was obliged to wipe his eyes.

'May I never,' said he, 'if it wasn't a good turn they played him, after what he did himself!'

'Come, father, let's hear it.'

'This was the way of it. Maybe you never remarked--of course you didn't, for you were only up there a couple of times--that opposite Bob's lodgings there was a mighty sweet-looking crayture, a widow-woman; she was dressed in very discreet black, and had a sorrowful look about her that somehow or other, I think, made her even more interesting.

'"I'd like to know that widow," said Bob; "for now that the fellows have a warrant against me, I could spend my days so pleasantly over there, comforting and consoling her."

'"Whisht," said I, "don't you see that she is in grief?"

'"Not so much in grief," said he, "but she lets down two beautiful braids of her brown hair under her widow's cap; and whenever you see that, Father Tom, take my word for it, the game's not up."

[Ill.u.s.tration: 373]

'I believe there was some reason in what he said, for the last time I went up to see him he had the window open, and he was playing "Planxty Kelly" with all his might on an old fiddle; and the widow would come now and then to the window to draw the little muslin curtain, or she would open it to give a halfpenny to the beggars, or she would hold out her hand to see if it was raining--and a beautiful lily-white hand it was; but all the time, you see, it was only exchanging looks they were. Bob was a little ashamed when he saw me in the room, but he soon recovered.

'"A very charming woman that Mrs. Moriarty is," said he, closing the window. "It 's a cruel pity that her fortune is all in the Grand Ca.n.a.l--I mean Ca.n.a.l debentures. But indeed it comes pretty much to the same thing."

'And so he went on raving about the widow; for by this time he knew all about her. Her maiden name was Ca.s.sidy, and her father a distiller; and, in fact, Bob was quite delighted with his beautiful neighbour. At last I bid him good-bye, promising to call for him at eight o'clock to come over here to you; for you see there was a backdoor to the house that led into a small alley, by which Mahon used to make his escape in the evening. He was sitting, it seems, at his window, looking out for the widow, who for some cause or other hadn't made her appearance the entire of the day. There he sat with his hand on his heart, and a heavenly smile upon him for a good hour, sipping a little whisky-and-water between times, to keep up his courage.

'"She must be out," said Bob to himself. "She 's gone to pa.s.s the day somewhere. I hope she doesn't know any of these impudent vagabonds up at the barracks. Maybe, after all, it's sick she is."

'While he was ruminating this way, who should he see turn the corner but the widow herself. There she was, coming along in deep weeds, with her maid after her--a fine slas.h.i.+ng-looking figure, rather taller than her though, and l.u.s.tier every way; but it was the first time he saw her in the streets. As she got near to her door, Bob stood up to make a polite bow. Just as he did so, the widow slipped her foot, and fell down on the flags with a loud scream. The maid ran up, endeavouring to a.s.sist her, but she couldn't stir; and as she placed her hand on her leg, Bob perceived at once she had sprained her ankle. Without waiting for his hat, he sprang downstairs, and rushed across the street. '"Mrs.

Moriarty, my angel!" said Bob, putting his arm round her waist. "Won't you permit me to a.s.sist you?"

'She clasped his hand with fervent grat.i.tude, while the maid, putting her hand into her reticule, seemed fumbling for a handkerchief.

'"I am a stranger to you, ma'am," said Bob; "but if Major Mahon, of the Roscommon----"

'"The very man we want!" said the maid, pulling a writ out of the reticule; for a devil a thing else they were but two bailiffs from Ennis.

'"The very man we want!" said the bailiffs.

'"I am caught!" said Bob.

'"The devil a doubt of it!"

'At the same moment the window opened overhead, and the beautiful widow looked out to see what was the matter.

'"Good-evening to you, ma'am," says Bob; "and I 'd like to pay my respects if I wasn't particularly engaged to these ladies here." And with that he gave an arm to each of them and led them down the street, as if it was his mother and sister.'

'The poor Major!' said I. 'And where is he now?'' On his way to Ennis in a post-chaise; for it seems the ladies had a hundred pounds for their capture. Ah, poor Bob! But there is no use fretting; besides it would be sympathy thrown away, for he 'll give them the slip before long. And now, Captain, are you ready for the road? I have got a peremptory letter from the bishop, and must be back in Murranakilty as soon as I can.'

'My dear father, I am at your disposal I believe we can do no more for poor Joe; and as to Mr. Burke--and, by-the-bye, how is he?'

'Getting better, they say. But I believe you've spoiled a very lucrative source of his income. He was the best jumper in the west of Ireland; and they tell me you've lamed him for life. He is down at Milltown, or Kilkee, or somewhere on the coast; but sure well have time enough to talk of these things as we go along. I'll be with you by seven o'clock.

We must start early, and get to Portumna before night.'