Valentine M'Clutchy, The Irish Agent Part 57

"That is a beautiful exhibition of Christian spirit," exclaimed Solomon, "good works are truly the fruit of faith."

"Before you go," said Phil, with a sneer, "will you allow me to ask how poor Mary is."

M'Loughlin paused, and calmly looked first at Phil, and then at his father.

"Phil," said the latter, "I shall order you out of the room, sir, if I hear another word on that unfortunate subject. I am very sorry, I a.s.sure you, Mr. M'Loughlin, for that untoward transaction--to be sure, I wish your daughter had been a little more prudent, but young ladies cannot, or at least, do not always regulate their pa.s.sions or attachments; and so, when they make a false step, they must suffer for it. As for myself, I can only express my sincere regret that the _faux pas_ happened, and that it should have got wind in such a way as to deprive the poor girl of her character."

After contemplating the father and son for some time alternately, with a look in which was visible the most withering contempt and scorn, and which made them both quail before him, he replied:

"Your falsehood, scoundrels, is as vindictive as it is cowardly, and you both know it; but I am an honest man, and I feel to stoop to a defence of my virtuous child against either of you, would be a degradation to her as well as to myself. I therefore go, leaving you my contempt and scorn, I could almost say my pity."

He then walked out, neither father nor son having thought it prudent to brave the expression of his eye by replying to his words.

"Now," said Val, addressing Solomon, "let there be an execution issued without a moment's delay--the man is doomed, his hour has come; and so, may I never prosper, if I don't scatter him and his, houseless and homeless, to the four corners of heaven! I have meshed him at last, and now for vengeance."

"But," said Solomon, in a tone of slight remonstrance, "I trust, my dear M'Clutchy, that,in taking vengeance upon this man and his family, you will do so in a proper spirit, and guard against the imputations of an uncharitable world. When you take vengeance, let your motives be always pure and upright and even charitable--of course you expect and hope that you ruin this man and his; family for their own spiritual good. The affliction that you are about! to bring on them, will soften and subdue their hard and obstinate hearts, and lead them it is to be hoped, to a better and more Christian state of feeling. May He grant it!"

"Of course," replied Val, humoring him in his hypocrisy, "of course it is from these motives I act; certainly it is."

"In that case," said Solomon, "I am bound to acknowledge that I never have heard a man vow vengeance, or express a determination to ruin his fellow creature, upon more delightfully Christian principles. It is a great privilege, indeed, to be able to ruin a whole family in such a blessed spirit, I have no doubt you feel it so."

CHAPTEK XXIV.--Raymond's Sense of Justice

--Voice of the Ideal--Poll Doolin's Remorse--Conversation on Irish Property--Disclosure concerning Mary M'Laughlin

About dusk, on the evening of that day, Poll Doolin having put on her black bonnet, prepared to go out upon some matter of a private nature, as was clearly evident by her manner, and the cautious nature of all her movements. Raymond, who eyed her closely, at length said--

"Take care now--don't harm them."

"Them!" replied Poll, "who do you mean by them?"

"The M'Loughlins--go and look at Mary, and then ask yourself why you join the divil:--there now, that's one. Who saved me? do you know that, or do you care? Very well, go now and join the divil, if you like, but I know what I'll do some fine night. Here he leaped in a state of perfect exultation from the ground.

"Why, what will you do?" said Poll.

"You'll not tell to-morrow," replied Raymond, "neither will any one else; but I don't forget poor white-head, nor Mary M'Loughlin."

"Well, keep the house like a good boy," she said, "till I come back; and, if anybody should come in, or ask where I am, say that I went up to Jerry Hannigan's for soap and candles."

"Ay, but that's not true, because I know you're goin' to join the divil; but, no matter--go there--you'll have his blessin' any how, and it's long since he gave it to you--with his left hand. I wish I wasn't your son--but no matther, no matther."

She then peeped out to see that the coast was clear, and finding that all was safe, she turned her steps hurriedly and stealthily, in a direction leading from, instead of to Castle c.u.mber. When she was gone, Raymond immediately closed and bolted the door, and began as before, to spring up in the air in a most singular and unaccountable manner.

The glee, however, which became apparent on his countenance, had an expression of ferocity that was frightful; his eyes gleamed with fire, his nostrils expanded, and a glare of terrible triumph lit up every feature with something of a lurid light.

"Ha, ha!" he exclaimed, addressing, as some imaginary individual, an old pillow which he caught up; "I have you at last--now, now, now; ha, you have a throat, have you? I feel it now, now, now! Ay, that will do; hoo, hoo--out with it, out with it; I see the tip of it only, but you must give better measure ay, that's like it. Hee, hee, hee! Oh, there--that same tongue never did you good, nor anybody else good--and what blessed eyes you have! they are comin' out, too, by degrees, as the lawyers goes to Heaven! Now! now! now! ay, where's your strugglin' gone to? It's little you'll make of it in Raymond's iron fingers--Halloo, this is for white-head, and white-head's--poor little white-head's---father, and for poor little white-head's mother, and this--ay, the froth's comin'

now, now, now--and this last's for poor Mary M'Loughlin! Eh, ho, ho!

There now--settled at last, with your sweet grin upon you, and your tongue out, as if you were makin' fun of me--for a beauty you were, and a beauty you are, and there I lave you!"

While uttering these words, he went through with violent gesticulations, the whole course and form of physical action that he deemed necessary to the act of strangling worthy Phil, whose graceful eidolon was receiving at his hands this unpleasant specimen of the pressure from without. He had one knee on the ground, his huge arms moving with muscular energy, as he crushed and compressed the pillow, until the very veins of his forehead stood out nearly black with the force at once of hatred and exertion. Waving thus wrought his vengeance out to his own satisfaction, he once more, in imagination, transformed the pillow into his little white-head, as he loved to call him; and a.s.sumed a very different aspect from that which marked the strangulation scene just described.

"Come here," said he--taking it up tenderly in his arms--"come here--don't be afeard now; there's n.o.body that can do you any harm. Ah!

my poor white-head--don't! you want your mother to keep up your poor sick head, and to lay your poor pale face against her breast? And your father--you would like to get upon his knee and climb up to kiss him--wouldn't you, white-head? Yes, he says he would--white-head says he would--and tell me, sure I have the c.o.c.k for you still; and if you want a drink I have-something better than bog wather for you--the sickening bog wather! Oh! the poor-pale face--and the poor sickly eye--up in the cowld mountains, and no one to think about you, or to give you comfort!

Whisht now--be good--och, why do I say that, poor white-head--for sure you were always good! Well wait--bog wather--ah, no--but wait here--or come wid me--I won't lay you down, for I love you, my poor white-head; but come, and you must have it. My mother's gone out--and she's not good; but you must have it."

He rose, still holding the pillow like a child in his arms, and going over to a cupboard, took from it a jug of milk, and so completely was he borne away by the force of his imagination that he actually poured a portion of the milk upon the pillow.

The act seemed for the moment to dispel, the illusion--but only for a moment; the benevolent heart of the poor creature seemed, to take delight in these humane reminiscences; and, almost immediately, he was.

proceeding with his simple, but touching little drama.

"Well," said he, "that's better than cowld bog wather; how would the rich like to see their sick childre put on cowld wather and cowld pratees? But who cares for the rich, for the rich doesn't care about huz; but no matther, white-head--if you'll only just open your eyes and spake to me, I'll give you the c.o.c.k." He gave a peculiar call, as he spoke, which was perfectly well known to the bird in question, which immediately flew from the roost, and went up to him; Raymond then gently laid the pillow down, and taking the c.o.c.k up, put his head under one of his wings, and placed him on the pillow where he lay quietly and as if asleep. For many minutes he kept his eyes fixed upon the objects before him, until the image in his mind growing still stronger, and more distinct, became at last so painful that he, burst into tears.

"No," said he, "he will never open his eyes again; he will never look upon any one more: and what will she do when she hasn't his white head before her?"

Whilst poor Raymond thus indulged himself in the caprices of a benevolent imagination, his mother was hastening to the house of Mr.

Hickman, the former agent of the Castle c.u.mber property, with the intention of rendering an act of justice to an individual and a family whom she had a.s.sisted deeply and cruelly to injure. Whilst she is on the way, however, we will take the liberty of introducing our readers to Mr.

Hickman's dining-room, where a small party are a.s.sembled; consisting of the host himself, Mr. Easel, the artist, Mr. Harman, and the Rev. Mr.

Clement; and as their conversation bears upon the topic of which we write, we trust it may not be considered intruding upon private society to detail a part of it.

"Property in this country," said Hickman, "is surrounded by many difficulties--difficulties which unfortunately fall chiefly upon those who cultivate it. In the first place, there is the neglect of the landlord; in the next, the positive oppression of either himself or his agent; in the third, influence of strong party feeling--leaning too heavily on one cla.s.s, and sparing or indulging the other; and perhaps, what is worse than all, and may be considered the _fons et origo malorum_, the absence of any principle possessing shape or form, or that can be recognized as a salutary duty on the part of the landlord.

This is the great want and the great evil. There should be a distinct principle to guide, to stimulate, and when necessary to restrain him; such a principle as would prevent him from managing his property according to the influence of his pa.s.sions, his prejudices, or his necessities."

"That is very true," said Mr. Clement, "and there is another duty which a landlord owes to those who reside upon his property, but one which unfortunately is not recognized as such; I mean a moral duty. In my opinion a landlord should be an example of moral propriety and moderation to his tenantry, so as that the influence of his conduct might make a salutary impression upon their lives and principles.

At present the landed Proprietary of Ireland find in the country no tribunal by which they are to be judged; a fact which gives them the full possession of unlimited authority; and we all know that the absence of responsibility is a great incentive to crime. No man in a free country should be invested with arbitrary power; and yet, it is undeniable that an Irish landlord can exercise it whenever he pleases."

"Then what would you do," said Easel; "where is your remedy?"

"Let there be protective laws enacted, which will secure the tenant from the oppression and injustice of the landlord. Let him not lie, as he does, at the mercy of his caprices, pa.s.sions, or prejudices."

"In other words," said Harman, "set the wolves to form protective enactments for the sheep. I fear, my good sir, that such a scheme is much too Utopian for any practically beneficial purpose. In the meantime, if it can be done, let it. No legislation, however, will be able, in my mind, to bind so powerful a cla.s.s as the landlords of Ireland are, unless a strong and st.u.r.dy public opinion is created in the country."

"But how is this to be done?" asked Easel.

"It is to be done by educating the people; by teaching them their proper value in society; by instructing them in their moral and civil duties.

Let them not labor under that humiliating and slavish error, that the landlord is everything, and themselves nothing; but let the absurdity be removed, and each party placed upon the basis of just and equal principle."

"It is very right," said Hickman, "to educate the people, but who is to educate the landlords?"

"A heavy task, I fear," said Easel, "from what I have observed since I came to the country."

"The public opinion I speak of will force them into a knowledge of their duties. At present they disregard public opinion, because it is too feeble to influence them; and consequently they feel neither fear nor shame. So long as the landlords and the people come together as opposing or ant.i.thetical principles, it is not to be supposed that the country can prosper."

"But how will you guide or restrain the landlord in estimating the value of his property?" inquired Mr. Clement. "Here are two brothers, for instance, each possessed of landed property; one is humane and moderate, guided both by good sense and good feeling; this man will not overburthen his tenant by exacting an oppressive rent. The other, however, is precisely the reverse of him, being naturally either rapacious or profligate, or perhaps both; he considers it his duty to take as much out of the soil as he can, without ever thinking of the hards.h.i.+ps which he inflicts upon the tenant. Now, how would you remedy this, and prevent the tenant from becoming the victim either of his rapacity or profligacy?"

"Simply by taking from him all authority in estimating the value of his own property.