The Martins Of Cro' Martin Volume I Part 61

"I suspect you are wrong there, Mr. Scanlan. My impression is, that Mrs.

Nelligan and I will find many topics to agree upon, and that we shall understand each other perfectly; and if, as you suppose, there may be certain things new and strange to me in _her_ modes of thinking, I 'm equally sure she 'll have to conquer many prejudices with regard to _me_.

"I'm afraid you'll be disappointed, miss!" was the sententious reply of Scanlan.

"Then there's our vicar!" broke in Mary. "Mr. Leslie will, I hope, take pity on my solitude."

"Indeed, I forgot him entirely. I don't think I ever saw him at Cro'

Martin."

"Nor I, either," said Mary; "but he may concede from a sense of kindness what he would decline to a mere point of etiquette. In a word, Mr.

Scanlan," said she, after a pause, "all the troubles and misfortunes which we have lately gone through--even to the dest.i.tution of the old house here--have in a great measure had their origin in the studious ignorance in which we have lived of our neighbors. I don't wish to enter upon political topics, but I am sure that had we known the borough people, and they us,--had we been in the habit of mingling and a.s.sociating together, however little,--had we interchanged the little civilities that are the charities of social life,--we 'd have paused, either of us, ere we gave pain to the other; we'd at least have made concessions on each side, and so softened down the asperities of party.

More than half the enmities of the world are mere misconceptions."

"That's true!" said Scanlan, gravely. But his thoughts had gone on a very different errand from the theme in question, and were busily inquiring what effect all these changes might have upon his own prospects.

"And now for a matter of business," said Mary, rising and taking her place at another table. "I shall want your a.s.sistance, Mr. Scanlan.

There is a small sum settled upon me, but not payable during my uncle's life. I wish to raise a certain amount of this, by way of loan,--say a thousand pounds. Will this be easily accomplished?"

"What's the amount of the settlement, miss?" said Scanlan, with more eagerness than was quite disinterested.

"Five thousand pounds. There is the deed." And she pushed a parchment towards him.

Scanlan ran his practised eye rapidly over the doc.u.ment, and with the quick craft of his calling saw it was all correct. "One or even two thousand can be had upon this at once, miss. It 's charged upon Kelly's farm and the mills--"

"All I want to know is, that I can have this sum at my disposal, and very soon; at once, indeed."

"Will next week suit you?"

"Perfectly. And now to another point. These are the few memoranda my uncle left with me as to his wishes respecting the management of the estate. You will see that, although he desires a considerable diminution of the sum to be spent in wages, and a strict economy in all outlay, that he still never contemplated throwing the people out of employment.

The quarries were to be worked as before,--the planting was to be continued,--the gardens and ornamental grounds, indeed, were to be conducted with less expense; but the harbor at Kilkieran and the new school-house at Ternagh were to be completed; and if money could be spared for it, he gave me leave to build a little hospital at the cross-roads, allowing forty pounds additional salary to Dr. Cloves for his attendance. These are the chief points; but you shall have the papers to read over at your leisure. We talked over many other matters; indeed, we chatted away till long after two o'clock the last night he was here, and I thought I understood perfectly all he wished. Almost his last words to me at parting were, 'As little change as possible, Molly.

Let the poor people believe that I am still, where my heart is, under the roof of Cro' Martin!'"

The recollection of the moment brought the tears to her eyes, and she turned her head away in silence.

"Now," said she, rallying, and speaking with renewed energy, "if what Henderson says be correct, something later must have been issued than all this; some directions which I have never seen,--not so much as heard of. He tells me of works to be stopped, people discharged, schoolhouses closed, tenants ejected; in fact, a whole catalogue of such changes as I never could have courage to see, much less carry through. I know my dear uncle well; he never would have imposed such a task upon me, nor have I the resources within me for such an undertaking."

"And have you received no letter from Mr. Martin, from Dublin?" asked Scanlan.

"None,--not a line; a note from my aunt--indeed, not from my aunt, but by her orders, written by Kate Henderson--has reached me, in which, however, there is no allusion to the property or the place."

"And yet her Ladys.h.i.+p said that Mr. Martin would write to you himself, in the course of the week, fully and explicitly."

"To whom was this said, sir?"

"To myself, miss; there is the letter." And Scanlan drew from his pocket-book a very voluminous epistle, in Kate Henderson's hand. "This contains the whole of her Ladys.h.i.+p's instructions. How all the works are to be stopped,--roads, woods, and quarries; the townlands of Carrigalone and Killybogue to be distrained; Kyle-a-Noe the same. If a tenant can be got for the demesne, it is to be let, with the shooting over the seven mountains, and the coast-fis.h.i.+ng too. There's to be no more charges for schools, hospital, or dispensary after next November; everything is to be on the new plan, what they call 'Self-supporting.' I 'd like to know what that means. In fact, miss, by the time one half the orders given in that same letter is carried out, there won't be such another scene of misery and confusion in all Ireland as the estate of Cro' Martin."

"And this is sanctioned by my uncle?"

"I suppose we must conclude it is, for he says nothing to the contrary; and Mr. Repton writes me what he calls 'my instructions,' in a way that shows his own feeling of indignation about the whole business."

Mary was silent; there was not a sentiment which could give pain that had not then its place in her heart. Commiseration, deep pity for the sorrows she was to witness unavailingly, wounded pride, insulted self-esteem,--all were there! And she turned away to hide the emotions which overcame her. For a moment the sense of self had the mastery, and she thought but of how she was to endure all this humiliation. "Am I," said she to her own heart,--"am I to be insulted by the rivalry of Scotch stewards and gardeners, to be thrust from my place of power by some low-born creature, not even of the soil, but an alien?--to live here bereft of influence, representing nothing save the decay of our fortunes?" The torrent of her pa.s.sion ran full and deep, and her bosom heaved in the agony of the moment. And then as suddenly came the reaction. "How small a share is mine in all this suffering, and how miserably selfish are even my sorrows! It is of others I should think!--of those who must leave hearth and home to seek out a new resting-place,--of the poor, who are to be friendless,--of the suffering, to whom no comfort is to come,--of the old, who are to die in distant lands,--and the young, whose hearts are never to warm to the affections of a native country!"

While affecting to arrange the papers in his pocket-book, Scanlan watched every pa.s.sing shade of emotion in her face. Nor was it a study in which he was ignorant; the habits of his calling had made him a very subtle observer. Many a time had he framed his question to a witness by some pa.s.sing expression of the features. More than once had he penetrated the heart through the eye! The elevation of sentiment had given its own character to her handsome face; and as she stood proudly erect, with arms folded on her breast, there was in her look and att.i.tude all the calm dignity of an antique statue.

Scanlan interpreted truthfully what pa.s.sed within her, and rightly judged that no small sentiment of condolence or sympathy would be appropriate to the occasion. Nor was he altogether unprovided for the emergency. He had seen a king's counsel warm up a jury to the boiling-point, and heard him pour forth, with all the seeming vehemence of an honest conviction, the wildest rhapsodies about desecrated hearths and blackened roof-trees,--talk of the spoiler and the seducer,--and even shed a tear "over the widow and the orphan!"

"What say you to all this, sir?" cried she. "Have you any counsel to give me,--any advice?"

"It is just what I have not, miss," said he, despondingly; "and, indeed, it was uppermost in my heart this morning when I was writing my letter.

What 's all I 'm suffering compared to what Miss Martin must feel?"

"What letter do you allude to?" asked she, suddenly.

"A letter I wrote to Mr. Repton, miss," said he, with a deep sigh. "I told him plainly my mind about everything; and I said, 'If it 's for exterminating you are,--if you 're going to turn out families that were on the land for centuries, and drive away over the seas, G.o.d knows where, the poor people that thought the name of Martin a s.h.i.+eld against all the hards.h.i.+ps of life, all I have to say is, you must look elsewhere for help, since it is not Maurice Scanlan will aid you.'"

"You said all this, sir?" broke she in, eagerly.

"I did, miss. I told him I 'd hold the under-agency till he named some one to succeed me; but that I 'd not put my hand to one act or deed to distress the tenants. It 's giving up," said I, "the best part of my means of support; it's surrendering what I reckoned on to make me independent. But a good conscience is better than money, miss; and if I must seek out a new country, I 'll go at least without the weight of a cruel wrong over me; and if I see one of our poor Western people beyond seas, I 'll not be ashamed to meet him!"

"Oh, that was n.o.ble,--that was truly n.o.ble conduct!" cried she, grasping his hand in both her own. "How I thank you from my very heart for this magnanimity!"

"If I ever suspected you 'd have said the half of this, Miss Mary, the sacrifice would have been a cheap one, indeed. But, in truth, I never meant to tell it. I intended to have kept my own secret; for I knew if any one only imagined why it was I threw up the agency, matters would only be worse on the estate."

"Yes, you are right," said she, thoughtfully. "This was most considerate. Such a censure would augment every difficulty."

"I felt that, miss. What I said to myself was, 'My successor will neither know the place nor the people; he 'll be cruel where he ought to have mercy, and spare those that he ought to keep to their duty.'

It isn't in a day nor a week that a man learns the habits of a large tenantry, nor was it without labor and pains that I acquired my present influence amongst them."

"Quite true," said she; but more as though following out her own reflections than hearing his.

"They 'll have _you_, however," said Scanlan,--"you, that are better to them than all the agents that ever breathed; and the very sight of you riding down amongst them will cheer their hearts in the darkest moments of life. I turned back the whole townland of Terry Valley. They were packing up to be off to America; but I told them, 'she 's not going,--she 'll stay here, and never desert you.'"

"Nor will _you_ either, sir," cried Mary. "You will not desert them, nor desert _me_. Recall your letter!"

"It's not gone off to the post yet. I was waiting to see you--"

"Better still. Oh, Mr. Scanlan, bethink you how much yet may be done for these poor people, if we will but forget ourselves and what we think we owe to self-esteem. If _you_ will have sacrifices to make, believe me, _I_ shall not escape them also. It is n.o.bler, too, and finer to remain here bereft of influence, stripped of all power, to share their sufferings and take part in their afflictions. Neither you nor I shall be to them what we have been; but still, let us not abandon them. Tell me this,--say that you will stay to counsel and advise me, to guide me where I need guidance, and give me all the benefit of your experience and your knowledge. Let it be a compact between us then; neither shall go while the other remains!"

It was with difficulty Scanlan could restrain his delight at these words. How flattering to his present vanity,--how suggestive were they of the future! With all the solemnity of a vow he bound himself to stay; and Mary thanked him with the fervor of true grat.i.tude.

If there be few emotions so pleasurable as to be the object of acknowledged grat.i.tude for real services, it may well be doubted whether the consciousness of not having merited this reward does not seriously detract from this enjoyment. There are men, however, so const.i.tuted that a successful scheme--no matter how unscrupulously achieved--is always a triumph, and who cherish their self-love even in degradation! Maurice Scanlan is before our reader, and whether he was one of this number it is not for us to say; enough if we record that when he cantered homeward on that day he sang many a s.n.a.t.c.h of a stray ballad, and none of them were sad ones.

CHAPTER XXIX. A SUNDAY MORNING AT CRO' MARTIN

Nothing is further from our intention than to enter upon the long-vexed question as to the benefits of an Established Church for Ireland. Wiser heads than ours have discussed it polemically, politically, socially, and arithmetically; and there it is still, left to the judgment of each, as his religion, his party, or his prejudices sway him. There is one view of the subject, however, which no traveller in the country has ever failed to be struck by; which is, that these settlements of Protestantism, dotted through the land, are so many types of an advanced civilization, suggesting, even to those of a different faith, respect and veneration for the decorous observance of this Church, and the calm peace-fulness with which they keep the Sabbath.