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ROLAl^D CASHEL 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES LEYEE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " HARRY LORREQUER," " THE KNIGHT OF GWYNNE," 
 &C. &C. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY PHIZ. 
 
 LONDON : 
 CHAPMA2T AND HALL, 186, STRAND. 
 
 MDCCCL. 
 
Z jrA3<i {]( 
 
 ofiMiniiJ 
 
 >rr^ " f -. CHARLES WHITING, BEAUFOET HOUSE, STBAND, ' { glTiYIg 
 
 .Ui:y>ii':.rn 'ix>nY -l 'Jib 
 
 
Lass 
 
 TO 
 
 G. p. R. JAMES, ESQ. 
 
 My dear James, 
 
 You, once upon a time, dedicated to me a tale of deep and 
 tlirilling interest. Let me now inscribe to you tliis volume on 
 the plea of that classic authority who, in the interchange of 
 armour, " gave Brass for Gold." 
 
 It is, however, far less to repay the obligation of a debt by 
 giving you a " Roland" — not for your ''Oliver" — but your " Step- 
 mother," than for the pleasure of recording one '^Fact" in a 
 bulky tome of Fiction, that I now write your name at the head of 
 this page — that fact being, the warm memory I cherish of all our 
 pleasant hours of intercourse, and the sincere value I place upon 
 the honour of your friendship. 
 
 Yours, in all esteem and affection, 
 
 Charles Lever. 
 
 Palazzo Ximenes, Florence, 
 October 20, 1849. 
 
 M6iM)l^ 
 
ufloT ovahSC 
 .irt >iAaCI oriiT 
 
 ^.rr .-T'i.,> . . '^T^aM A 
 .KrKl A 
 
 , , . . rrny 
 
LIST OF PLATES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Maritana c Frontispiece 
 
 Vignette Title-page. 
 
 The Game at Monte 4 
 
 The Manolo 45 
 
 The Two Sisters 52 
 
 A Prairie — Evening Eide 70 
 
 Bravo ToRo! 76 
 
 The Dean shows how to take the Bull by the Horns 105 
 
 The Cottage 120 
 
 The Major " Stops the Way" 148 
 
 The Money-Lender 152 
 
 A Meeting under the Greenwood Tree 168 
 
 A Domestic Detective 183 
 
 The Picture Gallery— Sir Andrew Puzzled 203 
 
 An Evening Scene 220 
 
 How to work a Patent Pump 246 
 
 The Fisherman's Hut 267 
 
 The Discovery 277 
 
 "The Sassenachs" 280 
 
 Jim 308 
 
 Coronation op Miss Meek 319 
 
 "After Luncheon — The Start" 329 
 
 CORRIGAN PARTS WITH AN OlD FrIEND 336 
 
 A Phcenix 370 
 
 Aunt Fanny's Benediction 383 
 
 A little Bit of Scandal 386 
 
 The Wager 406 
 
viii LIST OF PLATES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Preparations for Departure 426 
 
 "No" IS THE Feminine of "Yes" 440 
 
 The Chess-Playebs 455 
 
 The Temptation 475 
 
 Picturesque, but not Pleasant 493 
 
 A Family Party 502 
 
 The Masquerade , 513 
 
 The Suspicion 526 
 
 Friends. (" Ever faithfully tours") 546 
 
 Guilt and Innocence 553 
 
 LaNinetta 590 
 
 Linton's last Visit to Maritana.., 610 
 
 The Arrest 617 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 And thus they lived ye merrie yeare, 
 
 For they were a jollie crewe 
 Of pleasante laddes that knewe no feare, 
 
 And— as little of honestie too. 
 
 Ballade of Capt. Pike. 
 
 Our tale opens on a gorgeous night of midsummer — at an era so 
 little remote, that to name the precise year could have no interest for the 
 reader, and in a region which seemed to combine all that is delightful 
 in climate with whatever is luxuriant and splendid in vegetation. It was 
 upon the bank of a small river, a tributary of the Oronoco, not very dis- 
 tant from the picturesque city of Barcilonetta, that a beautiful villa stood, 
 the elegance of whose architecture, and the lavish magnificence of whose 
 decorations, were alike evidence that neither taste nor wealth were want- 
 ing to its proprietor. 
 
 In this land where Nature had been so prodigal of her gifts, the luxu- 
 rious appointments of this princely abode seemed to partake of the cha- 
 racter of a fairy palace ; and the admixture of objects of high art, the- 
 treasures of Italian galleries and Spanish collections, with the more vividi 
 realities of the scene, favoured this illusion. The fortunate owner of 
 this paradise, was a certain Pedro Rica, who, for something like fourteen: 
 years, had been a resident of Columbia. A widower, with an only child, 
 then an infant of scarce a year old, he had arrived in that country, seek- 
 ing, as he said, by new scenes, and new associations, to erase, so far as 
 might be, the painful memory of his late bereavement. 
 
 While he gave it to be understood that he was a Spaniard by birth, 
 some averred that he was a Mexican ; others, that he was a Texan ; and 
 one or two alleged that he was an American of the States, an assumption 
 that the ease and fluency of his English went far to corroborate. Of 
 
 B 
 
2 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 whatever nation he came, certain is it that a mystery hung over both his 
 native land and his history ; and as he shovi^ed little disposition to enlighten 
 the world on these subjects, as is usual in such cases, his neighbours took 
 their revenge by inventing a hundred stories about him, each one only 
 worse than the other. At one time it was said that his wealth was 
 acquired by piracy ; at another, that he absconded from a Texan city, 
 with a large sum belonging to the government ; forgery — breach of 
 trust, were among the commonest allegations ; and the most charitable 
 only averred that he made his money in the slave-trade. 
 
 It is but fair to say, that the sole foundation for these various rumours 
 lay in the stern distance of his manner, and the cold, almost repulsive, 
 austerity with which he declined all acquaintance with the neighbourhood. 
 These traits, added to the voluptuous splendour of a retinue and a. style 
 of living infinitely above all around, gradually estranged from him the 
 few who attempted to form an intimacy, and left him to live — as it 
 seemed he preferred — a life of solitary magnificence; an object of 
 afiected pity to many, but of real envy to all. 
 
 As his daughter grew up, he was accustomed to visit the sea-coast 
 each summer for some weeks, and from these absences he, now, usually 
 returned with one or two acquaintances, for the most part officers of the 
 Columbian navy, with whom he had formed an intimacy at the sea-side. 
 Such acquaintanceships seemed to increase from year to year, till at 
 last each autumn saw the ^* Villa de los Noches Entretenidos," " of the 
 pleasant nights" crowded with guests, whose wild orgies were in strange 
 contrast to the former stillness and quietude within those walls. 
 
 A more motley and discordant assemblage it would be hard to con- 
 ceive, consisting as they did of adventurers from every land of Europe. 
 The wild and reckless outcasts of every clime and country, the beggared 
 speculator, the ruined gambler, the duellist with blood upon his hand, 
 the defaulter with shame upon his forehead. All that good morals 
 reject, and the law pursues, mingled with others whose faults went no 
 further than waste or improvidence, or the more venial sin, that they 
 came poor into the world, and were stamped " Adventurers'* from the 
 cradle. 
 
 A service that never exercised too nice a scrutiny into the habits of 
 its followers, and whose buccaneer life had all the freedom of piracy, 
 with the assumption of a recognised class, offered no mean attraction to 
 the lover of enterprise ; and certainly, if the standard of morals was low, 
 that of daring, reckless adventure was the very opposite. 
 
 Amid this pleasant company, we must now ask pardon for introducing 
 our reader, with this saving assurance, that he shall not have long to 
 commune with such companionship. It was, as we have said, a summer's 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 8 
 
 night. A sky, all glittering with stars, spread its dark hlue canopy over 
 a scene where, amid the banana, the manioc, and the plantain, flowers 
 of every bright hue were blooming, and fountains gushing ; while, 
 through an atmosphere, tremulous with the song of the mocking-bird, 
 fire-flies were glancing and glittering. 
 
 In the deep piazza before the Villa was now assembled* a numerous 
 party of men, disposed in every attitude of lounging, ease, and abandon- 
 ment ; they seemed, though perhaps after very different estimates, to be 
 enjoying the delicious balm and freshness of the night air. They were 
 of various ages ; and, although the greater number showed by then* 
 dress, that they belonged to the naval service, other signs, not less 
 distinctive, pronounced that they were drawn from classes of life as 
 varied as they were numerous ; while, here and there, a Caballero might 
 be seen attired in the picturesque costume of the Caraccas, his many- 
 coloured scarf and plumed hat — aiding, in no inconsiderable degree, the 
 picturesque effect of a scene Salvator might have painted. 
 
 Not only beneath the piazza itself, but on the marble steps, and even 
 beneath them again, on the close shaven turf, the party lay, sated as it 
 were with splendour, and recruiting strength for new dissipations. Some 
 sat talking in low and whispering voices, as if unwilUng, even by a 
 sound, to break the stilly calm. Others, in perfect silence, seemed to 
 drink in the soothing influence of that tranquil moment ; or smoked the 
 cigarettes in dreamy indolence ; while at intervals, from the leafy 
 groves, a merry laugh, or the tinkling of a guitar, would mingle with 
 the bubbling murmur of the fountains, making the very stillness yet 
 more still as they ceased. Behind the piazza, and opening by several 
 large windows upon it, could be seen a splendid saloon, resplendent with 
 wax lights, and still displaying on the loaded table the remnants of a 
 sumptuous repast, amid which vessels of gold and vases of flowers 
 appeared. Here, yet lingered two or three guests — spirits who set no 
 store on an entertainment if it did not degenerate into debauch. 
 
 A broad alley, flanked by tall hedges of the prickly pear, led from 
 the Villa to a little mound, on which a chestnut tree stood, the patriarch 
 of the wood ; a splendid tree it was, and worthy of a better destiny 
 than it now fulfilled, as, lighted up by several lanterns suspended from 
 the branches, it spread its shade over a large table where a party were 
 playing at " Monte." 
 
 Even without the suggestive aid of the large heaps of gold beside each 
 player, and piled in the middle of the table, the grave and steadfast 
 faces of some, the excited look of others, and the painful intensity of 
 interest in all, showed that the play was high. Still, although such 
 was the case, and while the players were men whose hot blood and 
 
 b2 
 
4 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 reckless lives did but little dispose tliem to put the curb upon their 
 tempers, not a word was spoken aloud ; nor did a gesture or a look 
 betray the terrible vacillations of hope and fear the changeful fortune 
 of the game engendered. Standing near the table, but not mingling 
 in the play, stood Don Pedro himself, his sallow and melancholy fea- 
 tures fixed upon the game, with an expression that might mean sorrow 
 or deep anxiety, it were difficult to say which. Beside him, at a small 
 table littered with papers and writing materials, sat his steward, or 
 intendant, a German named Geizheimer, a beetle-browed, white- 
 cheeked, thick-lipped fellow, whose aquiline features and guttural 
 accents told that lending money at enormous interest was no uncon- 
 genial occupation. Such was his present, and indeed almost his only 
 duty ; for, while Don Pedro seldom or never played, gaming was the 
 invariable occupation of the guests, whose means to support it were 
 freely supplied by the steward: the borrowers either passing a simple 
 note for repayment, or, when the sum was a heavy one, mortgaging 
 their share in the next prize they should capture. Other contracts, it 
 was rumoured, were occasionally resorted to, but of such we shall speak 
 anon. 
 
 At a short distance from the table, but sufficiently near to observe the 
 game, stood one from whom nothing short of the passion of play could 
 have prevented every eye being bent'. But so it was ; she stood alone 
 and unmarked, while all the interest was concentrated upon the game. 
 Dressed in a white tunic or chemise, fastened round the waist by a gold 
 girdle, stood Maritana Rica, her large and lustrous black eyes eagerly 
 turned to where two. youths were standing intensely occupied by the 
 play. Her neck, arms, and shoulders were bare, in Mexican feshlon, 
 and even the mantilla she wore over her head was less as a protection 
 than as a necessarj* accompaniment of a costume, which certainly is of 
 the simplest kind,. Except the chemise, she had no other garment, save 
 a jupe of thin lama-wool, beautifully embroidered and studded with 
 precious stones ; this terminated below the middle of the leg, displaying 
 an ancle and foot no Grecian statue ever surpassed in beauty. 
 
 If the deep brown of her skin almost conveyed the reproach^ — and such 
 it is — of Indian blood, a passing glance at the delicate outline of her 
 features, and, in particular, of her mouth, at once contradicted the 
 8u5picion. The lips were beautifully arched, and, although plump and 
 rounded, had none of the fulness of the degraded race. These were now 
 slightly parted, displaying teeth of surpassing whiteness, and imparting 
 to the whole expression a character of speaking animation. Although 
 not yet sixteen, her figure had all the graceful development of woman- 
 hood, without having entirely lost a certain air of fawn-like elasticity, 
 which, from time to time, her gestures of impatience displayed. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 5 
 
 The two young men, on whom her interest seemed fixed, were playing 
 in partnership, and, in their highly-wrought passion, never once looked 
 up from the board. One, somewhat taller and older by a few years, 
 appeared to exercise the guidance of their play ; and it was easy to see, 
 in the swollen and knotted veins of his forehead, in the clenched hands, 
 and in the tremulous lip, the passionate nature of a confirmed gambler. 
 The younger, whose dress of green velvet, slashed and braided in Mexi- 
 can taste, and whose wide-leaved sombrero .was decorated with a long 
 sash of light blue silk, whose deep gold fringe hung upon his shoulder, was 
 evidently one less enamoured of play, and more than once busied himself 
 in arranging the details of his costume, of which he seemed somewhat 
 vain. It was in one of these moments that his eyes met those of Mari- 
 taiia fixed steadfastly upon him, and, fascinated by her unmoved stare, he 
 felt his cheek grow hot, and, whether from a sense of shame or a still 
 more tender motive, the blush spread over his face and forehead. Mari- 
 tana looked steadily, almost sternly, at him, and then, with a slight toss 
 of her head, so shght that none save he who had watched her intently 
 could read its scornful import, she turne'd away. The youth did not 
 wait a moment, but, slipping from his place, followed along the alley he 
 had seen her take. 
 
 He who remained, unconscious of his friend^s departure, continued to 
 mutter about the chances of the game, and speculate on the amount he 
 would dare to hazard. "She is against us every time, Roland I" said 
 he, in a low, half-whispering voice. ** Fortune will not smile, woo her 
 how we may! Speak, amigo mio, shall we risk all ?" As he spoke 
 he began counting the piles of glittering gold before him, but his hand 
 trembled, and the pieces clung to his moist fingers, so that he was too 
 late for the deal. 
 
 " Sixteen hundred," muttered he to himself. '•' Ten— twenty — 
 thirty." 
 
 " The bank loses ! " cried the croupier, announcing the game. 
 
 *' Loses ! " screamed the young man, in an accent whose piercing agony 
 started the whole board — " loses ! because it was the only time I had no 
 wager. See, Roland, see how true it is ; there is a curse upon us.'* 
 He seized the arm of the person at his side, and clenched it with a con- 
 vulsive energy as he spoke. 
 
 " Saperlote ! my young friend ; you'll never change luck by tearing 
 my old uniform," growled out a rugged-looking German skipper, who, 
 commanding a small privateer, affected the rank and style of a naval 
 officer. 
 
 " Oh, is it you, Hans?" said the youth, carelessly ; " I thought it had 
 been one of our own fellows. Only think the bank should lose, because 
 
6 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 I made no stake ; see now, watch this. Halt !" cried he to the dealer, 
 in a voice that at once arrested his hand. " You give one no time, Sn*, 
 to decide upon his game," said he, with a savage irascibility, which con- 
 tinued bad luck had carried to the highest pitch. " Players who risk 
 their two or three crowns may not object ; but, if a man desires to make 
 a heavy stake, it is but common courtesy to wait a moment. A thou- 
 sand doubloons, the red queen — fifteen hundred," added he, quickly. 
 " Fifteen, and thirty-five— or eight." So saying, he pushed with both 
 hands, the great heap of gold pieces into the middle of the table ; and 
 then, with eyes bloodshot and glaring, he watched each card that fell 
 from the banker's fingers. When the first row of cards were dealt, all 
 was in his favour, and, as the banker took up the second pack, a long- 
 suppressed sigh broke from the gambler's bosom. It seemed, at length, 
 as if fortune had grown weary of persecuting him. 
 
 " Come, Enrique," said a handsomely-dressed and fine-looking man, 
 who stood opposite to him " luck has turned at last, there is nothing 
 but the queen of spades against you !" 
 
 As if by some magic spell he had called the card, the words were not 
 out when it dropped upon the table. A cry of mingled amazement and 
 horror burst from the players, whose natures would seem to recognise 
 some superstitious influence in such marked casualties. As for Enrique, 
 he stood perfectly still and silent ; a horrible smile, the ghastly evidence 
 of an hysterical effort, sat upon his rigid features, and at length two or 
 three heavy drops of blood trickled from his nostril, and fell upon his 
 shirt. 
 
 "Where's Roland?" said he, in a faint whisper, to a young man be- 
 hind him. 
 
 " I saw him with Maritana, walking towards the three foun^ns.'' 
 
 Enrique's palHd cheek grew scarlet, and, rudely pushing his way 
 through the crowd, he disappeared from view. 
 
 ** There goes a man in a good humour to board a prize," said one of 
 the bystanders coolly, and the play proceeded without a moment's inter- 
 ruption. 
 
 With his broad-leaved hat drawn down upon his brows, and his head 
 sunk upon his bosom, he traversed the winding walks with the step of 
 one who knew their every turning ; at last he reached a lonely and un- 
 frequented part of the garden, where the path, leading for some distance 
 along the margin of a small lake, suddenly turned off towards a flower 
 terrace, in the midst of which " the three fountains" stood. 
 
 Instead of taking the shortest way to the spot, Enrique left the walk 
 and entered a grove of trees, through whose thick shade he proceeded 
 silently and cautiously. The air was calm and motionless, and none 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. T 
 
 save one who had received the education of a prairie hunter, could have 
 followed that track so noiselessly. By degrees the wood became open, 
 and his progress more circumspect, when he suddenly halted. 
 
 Directly in front of him, not twenty paces from where he stood, was 
 the terrace, over which, in the stilly night air, the fountain threw a light 
 spray-light shower, rustling, as it fell upon the leaves, witji a murmur- 
 ing sound. Lower down, was a little basin surrounded by a border of 
 white marble, and beside this two figures were now standing, whom, by 
 the clear starlight, he could easily recognise to be Roland and Maritana. 
 
 The former, with folded arms, and head bent down, as if in thought, 
 leaned against a tree, while Maritana stood beside the fountain, moving 
 her foot to and fro in the clear water, and, as though entirely engrossed 
 by her childish pastime, never bestowed a look upon her companion. At 
 last, she ceased suddenly, and turning abruptly round, so as to stand full 
 in front of him, said, " Well, Senhor, am I to hope our pleasant interview 
 is ended, or have I still to hear more of your complaints, those gentle re- 
 monstrances that sound, to my ears at least, more wearisome than words 
 of downright anger ?" 
 
 " You have not heard me patiently," said the youth, advancing to- 
 wards her, while the slightly shaken tones of his voice contrasted 
 strangely with the assured and haughty accents in which he spoke. 
 
 " Patiently !" echoed she, with a scornful laugh. " And where was 
 this same goodly gift to be learned ? Among the pleasant company we 
 have quitted, Senhor ? whose friendships of a night are celebrated by a 
 brawl on the morrow ! From the most exemplary crew of the Esmeralda, 
 and in particular, the worthy lieutenant, Don Roland da Castel, who, if 
 report speaks truly, husbands the virtue so rigidly that he cannot spare 
 the smallest portion to expend upon his friends ?" 
 
 " If my thrift had extended to other matters," said the youth, bitterly, 
 " mayhap I should not have to listen to language like this ?" 
 
 " What say you, Sir !" cried the girl, passionately, as she stamped 
 upon the ground with a gesture of violent anger. " Do you affect to 
 say, that it matters to me whether you stood there as loaded with gold 
 as on the morning you brought back that Mexican prize, and played the 
 hero with such martial modesty ; or as poor — as poor — as bad luck at 
 cards can make you ? If I loved you, I'd have as little care for one 
 event as the other !" 
 
 " You certainly thought more favourably of me then, than now, Mari- 
 tana !" said Roland, diffidently. 
 
 ** I know not why you say so !" 
 
 " x4t least you accepted my hand in betrothal" 
 
 *' Stay !" cried she, impetuously. " Did I not tell you, then, before 
 
'8 KOLAlfD CASHEE. 
 
 the assembled witnesses — before my father — what a mockery this same 
 ceremony was — that its whole aim and object was to take advantage of 
 that disgraceful law that can make an unmarried girl, a widow, to inherit 
 the fortune of one she never would have accepted as her husband. Speak, 
 Sir ! — and say, did I not tell you this, and more too, that such a bridal 
 ceremony brought little fortune to tlie bridegroom, for that already I had 
 been thrice a widowed bride? Nay, more, you heard me swear as 
 solemnly, that while I regarded the act as one of deep profanation, I 
 felt in nowise bound by it. It is idle, then, to speak of our betrothal !" 
 
 *' It is true, Maritana, you said all this ; although, perhaps, you had 
 not now remembered it, had not some other succeeded to that place in 
 your regard" 
 
 "There, there!" cried she, stopping him impatiently. ''I will not 
 listen again to the bead-roll of your jealousies. People must have loved 
 very little, or too much, to endure that kind of torture. Besides, why 
 tell me of these things ? You are, they say, a most accomplished hunter, 
 and can answer me, — if, when in chase of an antelope, a jaguar joins the 
 sport, you do not turn upon him at once, the worthier and nobler enemy, 
 and thus^ as it were, protect what had been your prey." 
 
 The youth seemed stung to the quick by this pitiless sarcasm ; and 
 although he made no reply, his hands, convulsively clutched, bespoke 
 the torrent of agitation within him. " You are right, Maritaiia I" 
 said he, after a pause. ''It is idle to speak of our betrothal— I re- 
 lease you." 
 
 " Release me .'" said she, laughing contemptuously ; " this is a task I 
 always perform for myself, Senhor, and by the shortest of methods, as 
 thus." As she spoke, she struggled to tear from her finger a ring, which 
 resisted all her efforts ; at last, by a violent wrench, she succeeded, and 
 holding it up for a second, till the large diamond glittered like a star, 
 she throw it into the still fountain at her feet. " There, amigo mio, I 
 release t/ou — never was freedom more willingly accorded !" 
 
 "Never was there a slave more weary of his servitude !" said the 
 youth, bitterly. "If Don Pedro Rica but tear his accursed bond,'*'! 
 should feel myself my own again." " 
 
 " He will scarce refuse you. Sir, if the rumour be correct that says 
 you have lost eleven thousand doubloons at play. The wealthy con- 
 queror stands on veiy different ground from the ruined gambler. Go 
 to him at once ! Ask back the paper ! Tell him you have neither a 
 heart nor a fortune to bestow upon his daughter ! That, as a gambler, 
 fettered by the lust for play, you have lost all soul for those hazardous 
 enterprises that win a girl's love, and a father's consent." 
 
 She waited for a moment that he might reply ; and then, impatient, 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 9 
 
 perhaps, at his silence, added — " I did not think, Senhor, you esteemed 
 yourself so rich a prize ! Be of good cheer, however! — they who are 
 less cognizant of your deserts will be more eager to secure them." 
 
 With these slighting words she turned away. Roland advanced as if 
 to follow her, but with a contemptuous gesture of the hand she waved 
 him back, and he stood like one spell-bound, gazing after, her, till she 
 disappeared in the dark distance. 
 
 ^ . ,i*r- 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 i)9vol u LJ^ Biche viene quando no se aguarda." — Spanish Pjxoverb. 
 
 ^jrfvr .s-oiu-sM. 
 
 (Good luck comes when it is not looked for.) 
 
 Roland looked for some minutes in the direction by which Maritafia 
 had gone, and then, with a sudden start, as if of some newly taken re- 
 solve, took the path towards the Villa. He had not gone far when, at the 
 turn of the way, he came in front of Enrique, who, with hasty steps, 
 was advancing towards him. 
 
 " Lost, every thing lost !" exclaimed the latter, mth a mournful ges- 
 ture of his hands. iii ,.>a j ■ 
 
 "All gone!" cried Roland. ''.yo/ vr .:■ 
 
 " Every crown in the world !" 
 
 " Be it so ; there is an end of gambling, at least !" 
 
 " You bear your losses nobly, Senhor!" said Enrique, sneeringly ; 
 *^ and, before a fitting audience, might claim the merit of an accom- 
 plished gamester. I am, however, most unworthy to witness such fine 
 philosophy. I recognise in beggary nothing but disgrace!" 
 
 " Bear it, then, and the whole load too !" said Roland, sneeringly. 
 " To your solicitations only I yielded in taking my place at that ac- 
 cursed table. I had neither a passion for play, nor the lust for money- 
 getting ; you thought to teach me both, ..and . peradventure, you have 
 made me despise them more than ever." .00/ oair 
 
 " What a moralist !" cried Enrique, laughing insolently, "who dis- 
 covers that he has cared neither for his mistress nor his money till he 
 has lost both." 
 
 *' What do you mean ?" said Roland, trembling with passion. 
 
 " I never speak in riddles," was the cool reply. 
 
 •' This, then, is meant as insult," said Roland, approaching closer, and 
 
10 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 speaking in a still lower voice ; *' or is it merely the passion of a disap- 
 pointed gambler ?" 
 
 " And if it were, amigo mio," retorted the other, " what more 
 fitting stake to set against the anger of a rejected lover ?" 
 
 " Be it so !" cried Roland, fiercely ; " you never caught up a man 
 more disposed to indulge your humour. Shall it be now ?" 
 
 " Could not so much courage keep warm till daylight ?" said Enrique, 
 calmly. '' Below the fountains there is a very quiet spot." 
 
 "At sunrise ?" 
 
 " At sunrise," echoed Enrique, bowing with affected courtesy, till the 
 streamers from his hat touched the ground. 
 
 " Now for my worthy father-in-law elect," said Roland ; " and to 
 see him before he may hear of this business, or I may find it difficult to 
 obtain my divorce." When the youth arrived at the Villa, the party 
 were assembled at supper. The great saloon, crowded with guests and 
 hurrying menials, was a scene of joyous but reckless conviviality, the 
 loud laughter and the louder voices of the company striking on Roland's 
 ear with a grating discordance he had never experienced before. The 
 sounds of that festivity he had been wont to recognise, as the pleasant 
 evidences of free and high-souled enjoyment, now jarred heavily on his 
 senses, and he wondered within himself how long he had lived in such 
 companionship. 
 
 Well knowing that the supper party would not remain long at table, 
 while high play continued to have its hold upon the guests, he strolled 
 into one of the shady alleys, watching from time to time for the break- 
 ing up of the entertainment. At last some two or three arose, and, 
 preceded by servants with lighted flambeaux, took the way towards the 
 gaming-table. They were speedily followed by others, so that In a 
 brief space— except by the usual group of hard-drinking souls, who 
 ventured upon no stake save that of health — the room was deserted. 
 
 He looked eagerly for Don Pedro, but could not see him, as it was 
 occasionally his practice to retire to his library, long before his guests 
 sought their repose. Roland made a circuit of the Villa, and soon 
 came to the door of this apartment, which led into a small flower gar- 
 den. Tapping gently here, he received a summons to enter, and found 
 himself before Don Pedro, who, seated before a table, appeared deeply 
 immersed in matters of business. 
 
 Roland did not need the cold and almost stem reception of his host 
 to make him feel his intrusion very painfully ; and he hastened to ex- 
 press his extreme regret that he should be compelled by any circum- 
 stances to trespass on leisure so evidently destined for privacy. " But a 
 
KOLANB CASHEL; 11 
 
 few moments' patient hearing," continued he, " will show that to me at 
 least the object of this visit did not admit of delay." 
 
 " Be seated, Senhor; and, if I may ask it without incivility, be hrieP, 
 for I have weighty matters before me." 
 
 *' I will endeavour to be so," said Roland, civilly, and resumed : — 
 " This evening, Don Pedro, has seen the last of twenty-eight thousand 
 Spanish dollars, which, five weeks' since, I carried here along with^me. 
 They were my share, as commander of the Esmeralda^ when she cap- 
 tured a Mexican bark in May last. They were won with hard blows 
 and some danger — they were squandered in disgrace at the gaming- 
 table." 
 
 '' Forgive me," said Don Pedro, " you can scarcely adhere to your 
 pledge of brevity if you permit yourself to be led away by moralising ; 
 just say how this event concerns me, and wherefore the present visit." 
 
 Roland became red with anger and shame, and when he resumed 
 it was in a voice tremulous with ill-suppressed passion. " I did not 
 come here for your sympathy, Senhor. If the circumstance I have 
 mentioned had no relation to yourself, you had not seen me here. I say 
 that I have now lost all that I was possessed of in the world." 
 
 " Again I must interrupt you, Senhor Roland, by saying that these 
 are details for Geizheimer, not for me. He, as you well know, transacts 
 all matters of money, and if you desire a loan, or are in want of any 
 immediate assistance, I'm sure you'll find him in every way disposed to 
 meet your wishes." 
 
 " Thanks, Senhor, but I am not inclined for such aid. I will neither 
 mortgage my blood nor my courage, nor promise three hundi'ed per 
 cent, for the means of a night at the gambling-table." 
 
 " Then pray, Sir, how am I to understand your visit ? Is it intended 
 for the sake of retailing to me your want of fortune at play, and charg- 
 ing me with the results of your want of skill or luck?" 
 
 " Far from it, Senhor. It is simply to make known that I am ruined; 
 that I have nothing left me in the world ; and that, as one whose for- 
 tune has deserted him, I have come to ask back that bond by which I 
 accepted your daughter's hand in betrothal." 
 
 A burst of laughter from Don Pedro here stopped the speaker, who, 
 with flushed cheek and glaring eyeballs, stared at this sudden outbreak. 
 " Do you know for what you ask me, Senhor ?" said Rica, smiling inso- 
 lently. 
 
 " Yes, I ask for what you never could think to enforce — to make me, 
 a beggar, the husband of your daughter." 
 
 " Most true — I never thought of such an alliance. I believe you were 
 told that Columbian law gives these contracts the force of a legal claim, 
 
12 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 in the event of survivorship ; and you flattered yourself, perhaps too 
 hastily, that other ties more binding still might grow from it. If For- 
 tune was as fickle with you here as at the card-table, the fault is not in 
 me/' 
 
 <'But of what avail is it now?" said Roland, passionately. "If I 
 died to-morrow, there is not sufficient substance left to buy a suit of 
 mourning for my poor widow.'* 
 
 *• She could, perhaps, dispense with outward grief," said Pedro, 
 sneeringly. f;iMrf> ] j*^ <;*? 
 
 "I say again," cried Roland, with increased agitation, "this bond 
 is not worth the paper it is written on. I leave the service — I sail into 
 another latitude, and it is invalid — a mere mockery !" 
 
 "Not so fast, Sir," said Pedro, slowly, " there is a redeeming clause, 
 by which you, on paying seventy thousand doubloons, are released of 
 your contract, with my concurrence. Mark that well — with my con- 
 currence it must be. Now, I have the opinion of learned counsel, in 
 countries where mayhap your adventurous fancy has already carried you, 
 that this clause embraces the option which side of the contract I should 
 desire to enforce." 
 
 " Such may be your law here ; I can have little doubt that any in- 
 famy may pass for justice in this favoured region," said Roland ; 
 "but ril never believe that so base a judgment could be uttered where 
 civilisation prevails. At all events, Fll try the case. I now tell you 
 frankly, that, to-morrow, I mean to resign my rank and commission in 
 this service ; I mean to quit this country, with no intention ever to re- 
 visit it. If you still choose to retain a contract whose illegality needs 
 no stronger proof than that it affects to bind one party only, I'll not 
 waste further time by thinking of it." 
 
 " I will keep it, Senhor," interrupted Pedro, calmly. " I knew a 
 youth, once, who had as humble an opinion of his fortunes as you have 
 now ; and yet he died — not in this service, indeed, but in these seas — 
 and his fortune well requited the trouble of its claimant." 
 
 "I have no right to trespass longer on you, Sir," said Roland, bow- 
 ing. " I wish I could thank you for all your hospitality to me with a 
 more fitting courtesy ; I must confess myself your debtor without hope 
 of repayment." 
 
 "Have you signified to Don Gomez Noronja your intention to 
 resign ?" 
 
 " I shall do it within half an hour." 
 
 " You forget that your resignation must be accepted by the Minister ; 
 that no peremptory permission can be accorded by a captain in commis- 
 sion, save under a guarantee of ten thousand crowns for a captain, and 
 
KOLiJNT) CASHEL. 13 
 
 seven for a lieutenant, the sum to be estreated if the individual quit the 
 service -without leave. This, at least, is law, you cannot dispute !" 
 
 Roland hung down his head, thunderstruck by an announcement 
 which, at one swoop, dashed away all his hopes. As he stood silent and 
 overwhelmed, Don Pedro continued : — " You see. Sir, that the service 
 knows how to value its officers, even when they set little store by the 
 service. Knowing that young men are fickle and fanciful, with caprices 
 that carry them faster than sound judgment, they have made the enact- 
 ment I speak of. And, even were you to give the preliminary notice, 
 where will you be when the time expires ? In what parallel south of 
 Cape Horn ? Among the islands of the Southern Pacific ; perhaps 
 upon the coast of Africa? No, no ; take my advice; do not abandon 
 your career; it is one in which you have already won distinctiou. 
 Losses at play are easily repaired in these seas. Our navy " 
 
 ** Is nothing better than a system of piracy !" broke in Roland, 
 savagely. " So long as, in ignorance of its real character, I walked 
 beneath your flag, the heaviest crime which could be imputed to me 
 was but the folly of a rash-brained boy. I feel that I know better now ; 
 I'll serve under it no more." 
 
 " Dangerous words, these, Senhor, if reported in the quarter where 
 they would be noticed." 
 
 Roland turned an indignant glance'at him, as he uttered his threat, 
 and with an expression so full of passion, that Rica, for a few seconds, 
 seemed to feel that he had gone too far. " I did but suggest caution, 
 Senhor," said he, timidly. '^""*>--> ^"*-' ^'"P ^^ ''^^■' 
 
 " Take care that you practise as well "as preach the habit," muttered 
 Roland, " or you'll find that you have exploded your own mine." 
 
 This, which he uttered as he left the room, was in reality nothing 
 more than a vague menace; but it was understood in a very different sense 
 by Pedro, who stood pale and trembling with agitation, gazing at the 
 door by which the youth departed. At last he moved forward, and 
 opening it, called out — ** Senhor Roland ! Roland, come back ! 
 Let me speak to you again." But already he was far beyond hearing, 
 as ^vith all his speed he hastened down the alley. 
 
 Don Pedro's resolves were soon formed ; he rung his bell at once, and 
 summoning a servant, asked if Don Gomez Noronja was still at table. 
 
 " He has retired to his room, Senhor," was the reply. 
 
 A few moments after, Rica entered the chamber of his guest, where 
 he remained in close conversation till nigh daybreak. As he reached 
 his own apartment, the sound of horses' feet and carriage-wheels was 
 heard upon the gravel, and throwing up the window, Rica called out, — 
 
 "Is that Don Enrique?" 
 
14 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 '*Yes, Senhor, taking French leave, as you would call it. A bad 
 return for a Spanish welcome ; but duty leaves no alternative." 
 
 " Are you for the coast then ?'* 
 
 " With all speed. Our captain received important despatches in the 
 night ; we shall be afloat before forty hours. Adios V* 
 
 The farewell was cordially re-echoed by Rica, who closed the window, 
 muttering to himself — '* So ! all will go well at last." 
 
 While Enrique was making all the speed towards the sea-shore a 
 light caleche and four horses could accomplish, Roland was pacing, 
 with impatient steps, the little plot of grass where so soon he expected 
 to -find himself in deadly conflict with his enemy. 
 
 Never was a man's mind more suited to the purpose for which he 
 waited. Rejected, insulted, and ruined in one night, he had little to live 
 for, and felt far less eager to be revenged of his adversary, than to rid 
 himself of a hated existence. It was to no purpose that he could say, 
 and say truly, that he had never cared for any of these things, of which 
 he now saw himself stripped. His liking for Maritana had never gone 
 beyond great admiration for her beauty, and a certain spiteful pleasure 
 in exciting those bursts of passion over which she exercised not the 
 slightest control. It was caprice, not love ; the delight of a school-boy 
 in the power to torment, without the wish to retain. His self-love, then, 
 it was, was wounded on finding, that she, with whose temper he had 
 sported, could turn so terribly upon himself. The same feeling was out- 
 raged by Enrique, who seemed to know and exult over his defeat. These 
 sources of bitterness, being all aggravated by the insulting manner of 
 Don Pedro, made up a mass of indignant and angry feehngs which 
 warred and goaded him almost to madness. 
 
 The long-expected dawn broke slowly, and although, a few moments 
 after sunrise, the whole sky became of a rich rose-colour, these few 
 moments seemed like an age to the impatient thoughts of him who 
 thirsted for his vengeance. 
 
 He walked hastily up and down the space, waiting now and again to 
 listen, and then, disappointed, resumed his path, with some gesture of 
 impatience. At last he heard footsteps approaching. They came 
 nearer and nearer ; and now, he could hear the branches and the 
 trees bend and crack, as some one forced a passage through them. 
 A swelling feeling about the heart bespoke the anxiety with which he 
 listened, when a figure appeared, which even at a glance he knew to be 
 not Enrique's. As the man approached he took off his hat respectfully, 
 and presented a letter. 
 
 " From Don Enrique?" said Roland j and then tearing open the 
 paper, he read — 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 15 
 
 " Amigo Mio, 
 ** Not mine the fault that I do not stand before you now instead of 
 these few lines ; but Noronja has received news of these Chilian fellows, 
 and sent me to get the craft ready for sea at once. We shall meet then 
 in a few hours ; and, if so, let it be as comrades. The service and our 
 own rules forbid a duel so long as we are afloat and on duty. ^ Whatever 
 be your humour when next we touch shore again, rely upon finding me 
 ready to meet it, either as an enemy or as 
 
 " Your friend, 
 " Enrique da Cordova." 
 
 A single exclamation of disappointment broke from Roland, but the 
 moment after all former anger was gone. The old spirit of comrade- 
 aflFection began to seek its accustomed channels, and he left the spot, 
 happy to think how different had been his feeling, than if he were quit- 
 ting it with the blood of his shipmate on his hands. 
 
 Although he now saw that his continuance in the service for the pre- 
 sent was inevitable, he had fully made up his mind to leave it, and, with 
 it habits of life whose low excesses had now become intolerable. So long 
 as the spirit of adventure and daring sustained him, so long the respite 
 of a few months' shore life was a season of pleasure and delight ; but as 
 by degrees the real character of his associates became cleai'cr, and he 
 saw in them men who cared for enterprise no further than for its gain, 
 and calculated each hazardous exploit by its profit, he felt that he was 
 now following the career of a bravo, who hires out his arm and sells his 
 corn-age. This revolted every sentiment of Ids mind, and come what 
 would, he resolved to abandon it. In these day-dreams of a new exist- 
 ence the memory of two years passed in the Pampas constantly mingled, 
 and he could not help contrasting the happy and healthful contentment 
 of the simple hunter with the voluptuous but cankered pleasures of the 
 wealthy buccaneer. Once more beneath the wooded shades of the tall 
 banana, he thought how free and peaceful his days would glide by, free 
 from the rude conflicts he now witnessed, and the miserable jealousies of 
 these ill-assorted companionships. For some hours he wandered, revolv- 
 ing thoughts like these ; and at length turned his steps towards the 
 Villa, determined, so long as his captain remained, that he would take 
 up his quarters at Barcelonetta, nor in future accept of the hospitality 
 of Don Rica's house. With this intention he was returning to arrange 
 for the removal of his luggage, when his attention was excited by the 
 loud cracking of whips, and the shrill cries that accompanied the sounds 
 of "The Post! the Post I" 
 
 In a moment every window of the Villa was thrown open, and heads, 
 
16 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 in every species of night-gear, and every stage of sleepy astonishment, 
 thrust out ; for the Post, be it observed, was but a monthly phenomenon, 
 and the arrival of letters was very often the signal for a total break-up of 
 the whole household. 
 
 The long waggon, drawn by four black mules, and driven by a fellow 
 whose wide-tasseled sombrero and long moustaches seemed to savour more 
 of the character of a melo-drama than real life, stopped before the chief 
 entrance of the Villa, and was immediately surrounded by the guests, 
 whose hurried wardrobe could only be excused in so mild a climate. 
 
 " Anything for me, Truxillo?"' cried one, holding up a dollar tempt- 
 ingly between finger and thumb. 
 
 ** Where are my cigarettes ?" 
 
 " And my mantle ?" 
 
 *^ And my gun?" 
 
 " And the Senhora's embroidered slippers ?" cried a maid, as she 
 ransacked every corner where the packages lay. 
 
 The driver, however, paid little attention to these various demands ; 
 but loosening the bridles of his beasts, he proceeded to wash their 
 mouth with some water fetched from the fountain, coolly telling the ap- 
 plicants that they might help themselves, only to spare something for 
 the people of Barcelonetta, for he knew there was a letter or two for 
 that place. 
 
 *' What have we here ?" cried one of the guests, as a mass of some- 
 thing enveloped in a horse-sheet lay rolled up in the foot of the caleche, 
 where the driver sat. 
 
 " Ah! par Dios !" cried the man, laughing, " I had nearly forgotten 
 that fellow. He is asleep, poor devil ! — he nearly died of cold in the 
 night!" 
 
 " Who is he — what is he ?'* 
 
 " A traveller from beyond San Luis in search of Don Pedro." 
 
 " Of me ?" said Don Pedro, whose agitation became, in spite of all 
 his efforts, visible to every one ; at the same instant that, pulling back 
 the cloak rudely, he gazed at the sleeping stranger — " I never saw him 
 before." 
 
 " Come, awake — stir up, Senhor ;" said the driver, poking the pas- 
 senger very unceremoniously with liis whip. " We are arrived — this is 
 the Villa de los Noches Entretenidos— here is Don Pedro himself!" 
 
 ** The Lord be praised !" said a short, round-faced little man, who, 
 with a night-cap drawn over his ears, and a huge cravat enveloping his 
 chin, now struggled to look around him. " At last !" sighed he, " I'm 
 sure I almost gave up all hope of it." These words were spoken in 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 17 
 
 English, but even that evidence was not necessary to show that the little 
 plump figure in drab gaiters and shorts was not a Spaniard. 
 
 *•' Are you Don Peter, Sir — are you really Don Peter?" said he, rub- 
 bing his eyes, and looking hurriedly around, to assure himself he was not 
 dreaming. 
 
 " What is your business with me — or have you any?'* said Rica, 
 in a voice barely above a whisper. 
 
 " Have I ! — did I come six thousand miles in search of you? Oh 
 dear, oh dear. I can scarcely think it all over, even now. But still 
 there may be nothing done if he isn't here." 
 
 " What do you mean?" said Rica, impatiently. 
 
 "Mr. Roland Cashel ; Roland Cashel, Esq., I should call him 
 now. Sir." 
 
 " That's my name !" said the youth, forcing his way through the 
 crowd, and standing in front of the traveller. 
 
 The little man put his hand into a breast-pocket, and drew out a little 
 book, opening which he began to read, comparing the detail as he went 
 on, with the object before him. 
 
 *' Six foot and an inch in height, at least, olive brown complexion, 
 dark eyes and hair, straight nose, short upper lip, frowns slightly when 
 he speaks ; — just talk a little, will you?" 
 
 Cashel could not help smiling at the request when the other added, 
 *' shows his teeth greatly when he laughs." 
 
 " Am I a runaway negro from New Orleans that you have taken my 
 portrait so accurately, Sir ?" 
 
 " Got that at Demerara," said the little man, putting up the book, 
 *• and must say it was very near indeed !" 
 
 " I have been at Demerara," said Cashel, hoping by the admiss'on to 
 obtain some further insiarht into the traveller's intentions. 
 
 " I know that," said the little man. " I tracked you thence to St. 
 Kitts, then to Antigua. I lost you there, but I got up the scent 
 again in Honduras, but only for a short time, and had to try Demerara 
 again : then I dodged down the coast by Pernambuco, but lost you en- 
 tirely in June : some damned Indian expedition, I believe. But I met a 
 fellow at New Orleans who had seen you at St. Louis, and so I tracked 
 
 awav south " 
 
 "And in one word, having found me, what was the cause of so 
 much solicitude, Sir ?" said Cashel, who felt by no means comfortable 
 at such a hot and unwearied pursuit. 
 
 " This can all be better said in the house," interposed Don Rica, who, 
 relieved of any uneasiness on his own account, had suddenly resumed 
 his habitual quiet demeanour. 
 
 c 
 
18 ROLAJND CASHEL. 
 
 " So I'm thinking too I" said the traveller ; " but let me first land 
 my portmanteau, all the papers are there ; I have not lost sight of it 
 since I started." 
 
 The parcels were carefully removed under his own inspection, and, 
 accompanied by Don Pedro Rica and Roland, the little man entered 
 the ViUa. 
 
 There could be no greater contrast than that between the calm and 
 placid bearing Don Pedro had now assumed, and the agitated and 
 anxious 'appearance which Cashel exhibited. The very last interview 
 he had sustained in that same spot still dwelt upon his mind ; and when 
 he declined Don Pedro's polite request to be seated, and stood with 
 folded arms before the table, which the traveller had now covered with 
 his papers, a prisoner awaiting the words of his judgment, could not 
 have endured a more intense feeling of anxiety. 
 
 " Roland Cashel, born in York, a.d. 18 — ., son of Godfrey Cashel 
 and Sarah, his wife," read the little man ; tJien murmured to himself, 
 " certificate of baptism, signed by Joshua Gorgeous, Prebendary of the 
 Cathedral ; all right, so far. Now we come to the wanderings. Your 
 father was quartered at Port-au-Prince, in the year 18 — , I believe ?" 
 
 " He was. I was then nine years old," said Cashel. 
 
 " Quite correct ; he died there, I understand ?" 
 
 Cashel assented by a nod. 
 
 " Upon which event you joined, or was supposed to join the Brown 
 Peg, a sloop in the Afiican trade, wrecked off Fernando Po, same 
 winter ?" 
 
 " Yes : she was scuttled by the second mate, in a mutiny. But what 
 has all this secret history of me to mean ? Did you come here, Sir, to 
 glean particulars to write my life and adventures ?" 
 
 " I crave your pardon, most humbly, Mr. Cashel," said the little 
 man, in a perfect agony of humiliation. " I was only recapitulating 
 a few collateral circumstances, by way of proof. I was, so to say, 
 testing — that is, I was — " 
 
 " Satisfying yourself as to this gentleman's identity," added Don 
 Pedro. 
 
 " Exactly so. Sir, the very words upon the tip of my tongue — 
 satisfying myself that you were the individual alluded to here" — as he 
 spoke, he drew forth a copy of the Times newspaper, whose well-worn 
 and much-thumbed edges bespoke frequent reference — " in this adver- 
 tisement," said he, handing the paper to Don Pedro, who at once read 
 aloud — 
 
 " * Reward of 500/. — Any person giving such information as may 
 lead to the discovery of a young gentleman jmo^d Roland Cashel, who 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 19 
 
 served for some years on board of Tarious merchant vessels in the 
 Levant, the African, and the West India trade, and was seen in New- 
 Orleans in the autumn of 18 — , will receive the above reward. He 
 was last heard of in Mexico, but it is believed that he has since entered 
 the Chilian or Columbian service. He is well known in the Spanish 
 Main, and in many of the cities on the coast, as the Caballero.' " 
 '-^Oashel's face was one burning surface of scarlet, as he heard the 
 words of an advertisement which, in his ideas, at once associated him 
 with runaway negroes and escaped felons ; and it was with something 
 like suffocation that he restrained his temper, as he asked why, and by 
 whose authority he was thus described ? 
 
 The little man looked amazed and confounded at a question which, it 
 would seem, he believed his information had long since anticipated. 
 
 " Mr. Cashel wishes to know the object of this inquiry — who sent 
 you hither, in fact ?" said Don Rica, beginning himself to lose patience 
 at the slowness of the stranger's apprehension. 
 
 " Mr. Kennyfeck, of Dubhn, the law-agent, sent me." 
 " Upon what grounds — with what purpose ?" 
 
 " To tell him that the suit is gained ; that he is now the rightful 
 owner of the whole of the Godfrey and Godfrey Brown estates, the lands 
 of Ben Currig, Tulough Callaghan, Knock Swinery, Kildallooran, 
 Tullimeoran, Ballycanderigan, with all the manorial rights, privileges, 
 and perquisites appertaining to —in a word. Sir, for I see your impa- 
 tience, to something, a mere trifle, under seventeen thousand per annum, 
 not to speak of a sum, at present not exactly known, in bank, besides 
 foreign bonds and securities to a large amount." 
 
 "While Mr. Simms recited this, with the practised volubility of one 
 who had often gone over the same catologue before, Cashel stood 
 amazed, and almost stupified, unable to grasp in his mind the full ex- 
 tent of his good fortune, but catching, here and there, glimpses of the 
 truth, in the few circumstances of family history alluded to. Not so, 
 Don Rica ; neither confusion nor hesitation troubled the free working of 
 his acute faculties, but he sat still, patiently watching the effect of this 
 intelligence on the youth before him. At length, perceiving that he 
 did not speak, he himself turned towards the stranger, and said, 
 
 '* You are, doubtless, a man of the world, Sir, and need no apologies 
 for my remarking that good news demands a scrutiny not less searching^ 
 than its opposite. As the friend oi Senhor Caishel" — here he turned a 
 glance beneath his heavy brows at the youth, who, however, seemed not 
 to notice the word — " as his friend, T repeat, deeply interested in what- 
 ever affects him, I may, perhaps, be permitted to ask the details of 
 this very remarkable event.'' 
 
 c2 
 
20 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 , ■ " If you mean the trial, Sir, or rather the trials, for there were three 
 Hi bar, not to mention a suit in equity and a bill of discovery — " 
 ■ " No, I should be sorry to trespass so far upon you," interrupted 
 Rica. " What I meant was something in the shape of an assurance — 
 something like satisfactory proof that this narrative, so agreeable to 
 believe, should have all the foundation we wish it." 
 
 " Nothing easier," said Mr. Simms, producing an enormous black 
 leather pocket-book from the breast of his coat, and opening it leisurely 
 on the table before him. " Here are, I fancy, documents quite suffi- 
 cient to answer all your inquiries. This is the memorandum of the 
 verdict taken at Bath, with the note of the Attorney- General, and the 
 point resei*ved, in which motion for a new trial was made." 
 
 " What is this ?" asked Cashel, now speaking for the first time, as he 
 took up a small book of strange shape, and looked curiously at it. 
 
 *' Check-book of the bank of Fordyce and Grange, Lombard Street," 
 replied Simms ; " and here, the authority by which you are at liberty to 
 draw on the firm for the balance already in their hands, amounting to 
 — let me see" — here he rapidly set down certain figures on the corner 
 of a piece of paper, and with the speed of lightning performed a sum 
 |in arithmetic — "the sura of one hundred and twenty-three thousand 
 pounds seven and elevenpence, errors excepted." 
 
 " This sum is mine !" cried Cashel, as his eyes flashed fire, and his 
 dark cheek grew darker with excitement. '''^' "^ ^''*' J-vri}iK>j u;:; 
 
 '' It is only a moiety of your funded propeffy,^'rfd 'SraiM#: ^Oastellan 
 and Biggen, the notaries, certify to a much larger amount in the Three 
 per Cents." 
 
 "And I am at liberty to draw at once for whatever ■amotint I 
 require ?'' ' '- ^^'^'i ''^ ^^'i 'gutbloil i^t/ny'tyiq i jjidj ,ooj {v^Chi. 
 
 "Within tteBni;-^cei*t^{%/^'l5f(!^^ 
 ifiey'll not refuse your order." '^'^ -^vii^j. > ;> : .jj^ yaji ; 
 
 "Leave us for a moment, Sir,** said Cashel, in an accent whose 
 trembling eagerness bespoke the agitation he laboured under. " I have 
 " Something of importance to tell this gentlemanj^-^: *^<>'{; ^"is 
 
 " If you will step this way. Sir," said Don Rica, politely. "I have 
 ordered some refreshment in this room, arid I believe you will find it 
 awaiting you." 
 
 Mr. Simms gladly accepted the offered hospitality, and retired. The 
 door was not well closed, when Don Rica advanced with extended hands 
 towards Cashel, and said, 
 
 " ' " With all my heart I give you joy— such good fortune as this may, 
 indeed, obliterate every little cloud that has passed between us, and 
 make us once more the friends we have ever been." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 21 
 
 Casliel crossed his arms on his breast, and coldly replied, " I thank 
 you. But a few hours back, and one half as much kindness would 
 have made a child of me in feeling. Now it serves only to arouse my 
 indignation, and my angerJ^ „j -uaidisrfim s^w ;tff£o/^. I t^rfY/; - 
 
 " Are you indeed so unjust-'—so ungenerous as this!" exclaimed Rica, 
 in a tone, whose anguish seemed wrung from the very heart.. 
 Ary," Unjust — ungenerous ! how ?" cried Cashel, passionately. 
 7!,^* Both, Sir," said Rica, in a voice of almost commanding severity. 
 -*^Unjust to suppose, that in thwarting your last resolve to leave a ser- 
 vice in which you have already won fame and honour, that I was not 
 your best and truest friend; that in offering every opposition in my 
 power to such a hot-headed resolution, I was not consulting your best 
 interests ; ungenerous to imagine that I could feel any other sentiment 
 than delight at your altered fortunes. I, who gave you all that was 
 dearest and nearest to me, on earth, my child — my Maritana." 
 
 Had it not been for the passionate emotion of the last few words, 
 Cashel's anger would have suggested a reply not less indignant than his 
 question ; but the sight of the hard, the stern, the unflinching Pedro 
 Rica, as he now stood — his face covered by his hands, while his strong 
 chest heaved and throbbed with convulsive energy — this was more than 
 he felt prepared to look on. It was then only by a great effort he could 
 say, "You seem to forget, Senhor Rica, how differently you interpreted 
 this same contract but a few hours ago. You told me then — I think I 
 hear the words still ringing in my ears — that you never thought of such 
 an alliance ; that your calculation took a less flattering estimate of my 
 relationship." 
 
 " I spoke in anger, Roland ; anger caused by your passionate resolve. 
 Remember, too, that I preferred holding you to your contract, in pre- 
 ference to allowing you to redeem it by paying the penalty." 
 
 *' Easy alternative," said Cashel, with a scornful laugh ; " you scarcely 
 expected a beggar, a ruined gambler, could pay seventy thousand doub- 
 loons. But times are changed. Sir. lam rich now! rich enough to 
 double the sum you stipulated for. Although I well know the contract 
 is not worth the pen that wrote it, I am willing to recognise it, at least 
 so far as the forfeit is concerned. 
 
 "My poor child, my darling Maritana," said Pedro, but in a voice 
 barely audible. The words seemed the feeble utterance of a breaking 
 heart. 
 
 " Sorrow not for her, Senhor," said Cashel, hastily. " She has no 
 griefs herself on such a score. It is but a few hours since she told 
 me so." 
 
22 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Don Pedro was silent ; but a mournful shake of the head, and a still 
 more mournful smile, seemed to intimate his dissent. 
 
 " I tell you, Sir, that your own scorn of my alliance was inferior to 
 hers !" cried Cashel, in a voice of deep exasperation. " She even went 
 so far as to say that she was a party to the contract only on the condi- 
 tion of its utter worthlessness. Do not, then, let me hear of regrets 
 for her'^ 
 
 "And you believe this ?" 
 
 "I believe what I have myself witnessed." 
 
 " What, then, if you be a witness to the very opposite ? "What if 
 your ears reveal to you the evidence as strongly against, as now you 
 deem it in favour of, your opinion ?" 
 
 " I do not catch your meaning." 
 
 " I would say, what if from Maritafia's own lips you heard an avowal 
 of her affection, would you conceive yourself at liberty to redeem a con- 
 tract to which you were only one party, and by mere money — I care 
 not how large you call the sum — to reject the heart you have made 
 your own." 
 
 " No, no, this cannot be," cried Cashel, struggling in a conflict of 
 uncertainty and fear. j^aw attj iimis aiif^og si.io-» u-ro 2, 
 
 " I know my daughter, Sir," said Pedro, with ati air ^ pride he well' 
 knew when and how to assume. 
 
 " If I but thought so," muttered Cashel to himself, and low as the 
 words were, Rica heard them. 
 
 " I ask you for nothing short of your own conviction — the eonvictioi* 
 of your own ears and eyes. You shall, if you please, remain concealed 
 in her apartment while I question her on the subject of this attachment. 
 If you ever supposed me base enough to coerce her judgment, you know 
 her too well to believe it to be possible. But I will not insult myself 
 by either supposition. I offer you this test of what I have said ; accept 
 it if you will, and with this condition, that you shall then be free to tear 
 this contract if you like, but never believe that I can barter the acknow- 
 ledged affection of my child, and take money for her misery." 
 
 Cashel was moved by the truth-like energy of the words he heard ; 
 the very aspect of emotion in one he had never seen save calm, cold, 
 and self-possessed, had its influence on him, and he replied, " I con- 
 sent." So faintly, however, were the words uttered, that he was obliged 
 to repeat them ere they reached Don Pedro's ears. 
 
 " I will come for you after supper this evening," said Rica. " Let me 
 find you in the arbour at the end of the * Hacienda.' Till then, Adios" — 
 so saying, he motioned to Cashel to follow the stranger. Roland 
 obeyed the suggestion, and they parted. 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 23 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 *' He told him of men that cared not a d — n 
 For the law or the new police, 
 And had very few scruples for killing a Iamb, 
 If they fancied they wanted the fleece." 
 
 Sir Petek's Lament. 
 
 When Roland Cashel rejoined IMr. Simms, he found that worthy 
 individual solacing himself for the privations of prairie travel, by such a 
 breakfast as only Don Pedro's larder would produce. Surrounded by 
 various dishes whose appetising qualities might have suftered some im- 
 pairment from a more accurate knowledge of their contents — sucking 
 monkeys and young squirrels among the number — he tasted and sipped, 
 and sipped again, till, between the seductions of Sangaree and Cura9oa 
 punch, he had produced that pleasing frame of mind when even a less 
 gorgeous scene than the windows of the Villa displayed before him, would 
 have appeared delightful. 
 
 Whether poor Mr. Simms' excess — and such we are compelled to con- 
 fess it was — could be excused on the score of long fasting, or the con- 
 sciousness that he had a right to some indulgence in the hour of 
 victory, he, assuredly, revelled in the fullest enjoyment of this luxurious 
 banquet, and, as Cashel entered the room, had reached the delicious 
 dream-land of misty consciousness, where his late adventures and his 
 former life became most pleasingly commingled ; and Jaguars, Alligators, 
 Gambusinos, and Rancheros, danced through his brain in company with 
 Barons of the Exchequer and Masters in Chancery, nohkoqa 
 
 Elevated by the scenes of danger he had passed through— some real, 
 the far greater number imaginary — into the dignity of a hero, he pre- 
 ferred rather to discuss prairie life and scenes in the Havannah, to 
 dwelling on the topics so nearly interesting to Cashel. Nor was Ro- 
 land a very patient listener to digressions, which, at every moment, left 
 the high road, and wandered into every absurd by-path of personal 
 history. 
 
 " I always thought, Sir," said Simms, " and used to say it everywhere, 
 too, what a splendid change for you this piece of good fortune would be, 
 springing at a bound, as a body might say, from a powder-monkey, into 
 the wealth of a peer of the realm ; but, egad, when I see the glorious 
 
24 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 life you lead hereabouts, such grog, such tipple, capital house, magnifi- 
 cent country, and if I may pronounce from the view beneath ray window, 
 no lack of company, too ! I begin to feel doubts about it." 
 
 If Cashel was scarcely pleased at the allusions to himself in this speech, 
 he speedily forgave them in his amusement at the commentary Simras 
 passed on life at the Villa j but yet would willingly have turned from 
 either theme to that most engrossing one, the circumstances of his 
 altered fortune. Simms, however, was above such grovelling subjects ; 
 and, as he sat, glass in hand, gazing out upon the garden, where stroll- 
 ing parties came and went, and loitering groups lingered in the shade, 
 he really fancied the scene a perfect paradise. 
 
 " Very hard to leave this, you'll find it !" exclaimed Simms. '' I can 
 well imagine life here must be rare fun. How jolly they do seem down 
 there," said he, with a half-longing look at the strange figures, who 
 now and then favoured him with a salute or a gesture of the hand, as 
 they passed. 
 
 *^Come, let us join them," said Cashel; who, despairing of recalUng 
 him to the wished-for topic, was fain to consent to indulge the stranger's 
 humour. -) '■, ,.^, :■:..-. 
 
 " All naval men?" asked Simms, as they issued forth into the lawn. 
 " Most of them are sailors," said Cashel, equivocating. 
 " That's a fine looking old fellow beneath the beech-tree, with the 
 long Turkish, rpip^tjlp, his. inouth. He's captain of a s^v«nty-four, I 
 take it." . ;..;-, ■,,.,..■ .. 
 
 " He's a Greek merchant-man," whispered Cashel ; " don't look so 
 hard at him, for he observes you, and is somewhat irascible in temper, 
 if stared at.'* 
 
 . " Indeed, I shouldn't have thought ^"i-. j r .iluo'-l . //:i> l • ^ 
 
 ^ "No matter, do as I telljpu; he stabbed a travelling' artist the other 
 day, who fancied he was a fine study, and wished to make a drawing of 
 of his head." 
 
 Simms' jaw dropped suddenly, and a sickly faintness stole over him, 
 that even all his late potations could not supply courage enough to hear 
 such a story unmoved. -; /jf .i;qi-> ' m/. 
 
 "And who is he, Sir, yonder?" asked he, ?«8Ta^ybiit^>'TCitli> no other 
 clothing than a shirt and trousers, was fencing against a tree, practising, 
 by bounds and springs, every imaginable species of attack and assault. 
 
 *' A young Spaniard from the Basque," said Cashel, coolly; " he has a 
 duel to-morrow with some fellow in Barcilonetta, and he's getting his 
 wrist into play." Then calling out, he said, "Ah, Jos(!', you mean to 
 let blood I gee!')!'-^ hiiR ^yj^ndtn bv.ii 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 25 
 
 " He's only a student," said the youth, with an insolent toss of his 
 head; "but who have we here ?*' ;jw,,v.h \. v ... .:;;, ,,-.:,ii.'jl, i-..^ 
 
 "A friend and countryman of mine, Mr. Simms,*' said C^eT;-TOtfo^ 
 diicing the little man, who performed a whole circuit round the young 
 Spaniard in salutations. 
 
 "Come to join us?" asked the youth, surveying him with cool imper- 
 tinence. " What in the devil's name hast thou done that thou should 
 leave the Old World at thy time of life. Virtuous living, or hypocrisy 
 ought to have become a habit with thee ere now, old boy ! eh?" 
 
 " He's only on a visit," said Cashel, laughing; "be cam retaiifc tp 
 good society, not like all of us here." '^^ u-ji-jn^i -(jAm-i vn 
 
 fifiV Would you infer from that. Sir n *^«^^^ ^^^^^ ^{ ^'^^ 'V^^ ^J 
 
 ' *' Keep your temper, Jose," said Cashel, with dfa IrifecHbkbTe aiiiiinp- 
 tion of insolent superiority, " or if you cannot, keep your courage for the 
 students, whose broils best suit you." - -.^i - --i- -li^ ' - 
 
 "You presume somewhat too far on your skill with -ifie^ fapler, 
 Senhor Cashel," said the other, but in a voice far less elevated than 
 before. -i: . ; f 
 
 "You can test the presumption at any moment." said Cashel, inso- 
 lently; "now, if you like it. l*^''^ ^-"^ t«uiauf5 b-jAnsi inoai Ibvbu ilA '' 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Cashfei! ohy M^'^Bk^i^ iot'^iimf^ mij %m^ ex^ 
 claimed Simms. ''^^ ^^^^ liiiieu-jd v/oilil bfo ';iiu.:"< ^ari ,1 atiiilT " 
 
 "Never fear," interposed Cashel, " that excellent young man has 
 better principles than you fancy, and never neglects, though he some- 
 times forgets himself." >>ii^^9<F"iv«r ^amn-iEihiio'ism id9i3 a asH" 
 
 So saying, he leisurely '^passed Ks '&rm beneath Siriiihs' and led" him 
 forward. 
 
 " Good day, Senhor Cashel," said a tall and well-dressed man, who 
 made his salutations with a certain air'of distinction, that induced Simms 
 to inquire who and what he was: -. <^'^^^ -^^'^ ^^ *f'''' ^^^ h^A-juhl oAu .-/nh 
 
 " A general in the service of one of the minor states of Germany," 
 said Cashel ; " a man of great professional skill ; andj it is said, of gieat 
 personal bravery." niuoo xM^P^^ joa blifoc aaoiJB^oq :eist eid Ub aste im-.A 
 
 "And in what capacity is he here ?" ^ .-,.,,- .. .. .^., !.,. 
 
 r w« A refugee — his sentence to be shot — was commuted for imprison- 
 ment for life — he made his escape from Spandau, aqd came here." 
 
 ," What was his crime ?" 
 ?i*^ Treachery, the very basest one can well conceive ; he commanded 
 the fort of Bergstein, which the French attacked on their advance in the 
 second Austrian campaign. The assailants had no heavy artillery, nor 
 any material for escalade; but they had money, and gold proved a better 
 
26 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 battering train than lead. Plittersdorf, that's the general's name, fired 
 over their heads till he had expended all his ammunition, and then sur-- 
 rendered, with the garrison, as prisoners of war. The French, however, 
 exchanged him afterwards, and he very nearly paid the penalty of his 
 false faith." 
 
 " And now is he shmined — do people avoid him ?" * 3 
 
 *' How should they — how many here are privileged to look down on 
 a traitor ? Is it the runaway merchant, the defaulting bank clerk, the 
 filching commissary, that can say shame, to one, whose crime stands higher 
 in the scale of offence ? The best we can know of any one here is, that 
 his rascality took an aspiring turn ; and yet there are some fellows one 
 would not like to think ill oif ; here comes one such, and as I have some- 
 thing like business to treat of with him, I'll ask you to wait for me, on 
 this bench, till I join you." -^ 
 
 Without waiting for any reply, Cashel hastened forward, and taking 
 off his hat, saluted a sallow-looking man of some eight and forty or fifty 
 years of age, who, in a loose morning-gown, and with a book in his hand, 
 was strolling alone in one of the alleys. -^ 
 
 " Ha, Lieutenant," said the other, as lifting up his eyes he recognised 
 Cashel ; " making the most of these short hours of pleasure, eh ? You've 
 heard the news, I suppose ; we shall be soon afloat again." 
 
 " So I've heard. Captain !" replied Cashel ; " but I believe we have 
 taken oiu: last cruise together." 
 
 " How so lad ! you look well, and in spirits; and, as for myself, I never 
 felt in better humour to try a bout with our friends on the western coast." 
 
 ** You have no friend. Captain, can better hke to hear you say so; and 
 as for me, the chances of fortune have changed. I have discovered 
 that I need neither risk head nor limbs for gold ; a worthy man has 
 arrived here to-day with tidings that I am the owner of a large estate, 
 and more money than I shall well know how to squander, and so " 
 
 " And so, you'll leave us for the land where men have learned that 
 art ? Quite right, Cashel. At your age a man can accustom himself to 
 any and every thing ; at mine — a little later — at mine, for instance, the 
 task is harder. I remember myself some years ago fancying that I should 
 enjoy prodigiously that life of voluptuous civilisation they possess in the 
 * Old World,' where men's wants are met ere they are well felt, and 
 hundreds, ay thousands, are toiling and thinking to minister to the 
 rich man's pleasures. It so chanced that I took a prize a few weeks 
 after ; she was a Portuguese bark with specie, broad doubloons and gold 
 bars for the mint at Lisbon, and so I threw up my command and went 
 over to France and to Paris. The first dash was glorious ; all was new, 
 
BOLAND CASHEL. 27 
 
 glittering, and splendid ; every sense steeped in a voluptuous entrance- 
 ment ; thought was out of the question, and one only could wonder at 
 the barbarism that before seemed to represent life and sorrow for years 
 lost and wasted in grosser enjoyment. Then came a reaction, at first 
 slight, but each day stronger ; the headache of the debauch, the doubt 
 of your mistress's fidelity, your friend's truth, your own enduring good 
 fortune, all these lie in wait together, and spring out on you in some 
 gloomy hour, like Malays boarding a vessel at night, and crowding 
 down from maintop and mizen ! There is no withstanding, you must 
 strike or fly. I took the last alternative, and, leaving my splendid 
 quarters one morning at daybreak, hastened to Havre. Not a thought 
 of regret crossed me ; so quiet a life seemed to sap my very courage, 
 and prey upon my vitals ; that same night I swung once more in a 
 hammock, with the rushing water beside my ear, and never again tried 
 those dissipations that pall from their very excess ; for, after all, no 
 pleasure is lasting which is not dashed with the sense of danger.'* 
 
 While he was yet speaking, a female figure, closely veiled, passed 
 close to where they stood; and, without attracting any notice, slipped 
 into Cashel's hand a small slip of paper. Few as the words it contained 
 were, they seemed to excite his very deepest emotion, and it was with a 
 faltering voice he asked the Captain by what step he could most 
 speedily obtain his release from the service ? 
 
 A tiresome statement of official forms was the answer, but Roland's 
 impatience did not hear it out, as he said, 
 
 " And is there no other way — by gold, for instance ?" 
 A cold shrug of the shoulders met this sally, and the Captain said, 
 " To corrupt the officials of the Government is called treason by our 
 laws, and is punishable by death, just like desertion." 
 
 " Therefore is desertion the better course, as it involves none but 
 one," said Cashel, laughing, as he turned away. 
 
 a/,; .ij Jul i.- 
 
 9fB ^soffBifsnJ io\ \omm is — *i9dfilorj;tH r^-^palm dr. 
 BfiTOffBl '■ 
 9i!;^ m :- 
 
 ba£ Met Iwv/ -rr.C Yyjljr 91'> J'5' . ^ 
 
 ■ 'ifff -n;^ ?*>tBxmfa o? ^aHnldt iv, 
 
 ''/5/1 ?.fi'ff ^ vE/rorroir* ^.'^"''-^ d?/' 
 
28 ROIlAl^D CA«HBL, 
 
 .: :^:-.'r; J' . •<■ J? ,bft-r;;rv .t'-ii!: : ' •' :' 
 
 ■ \i h'iU'i^iir ' rmieJ^ 'to \)iii.J hns\ 
 
 (la/ egdicfxo oi Ltiquioa don Lib orffoil ofj j 'io aaoioa giioiifiv 9rfi Ba^ ^ rroi'a 
 
 DBr'^ "Manbeiiigrea^onable, mast dine out; Pifqo bsBHBirpjiir 
 
 The best of life is but a dinner-party." -n-' ^ 
 
 It was about half-past six of an a«t»fiaa ev^nlflgr j«6t as the gray 
 
 twilight was darkening into the gloom that precedes night, that a 
 servant, dressed in the most decorous black, drew dowTi the window- 
 blinds of a large and splendidly furnished drawing-room of a house in 
 Merrion Square, Dublin, ifiiooi-sjjoqfiaoq Mi yiOT n ejsw ell .0 jmoa 
 
 Having arranged certain portly deep-cushioned chairs into thfe orderty 
 disorder that invites social groupings, and having disposed various other 
 articles of furniture according to those notions of domestic landscape so 
 popular at the present day, he stirred the fire and withdrew : — all these 
 motions being performed with the noiseless decorum of a church. 
 
 A glance at the apartment, even by the fitful light of the coal-fire, 
 showed that it was richly,, even magnificently furnished. The looking- 
 glasses were immense in size, and framed with all that the most lavish 
 art of the carver could display. The hangings were costly Lyons' silks, 
 the sofas, tables, and cabinets were all exquisite specimens of modern 
 skill and elegance, while the carpet almost rose above the foot in the 
 delicate softness of its velvet pile. A harp, a grand piano-forte, and 
 several richly bound and gilded volumes strewed about gave evidence of 
 tastes above the mere voluptuous enjoyment of ease, and in one window 
 stood an embroidery-frame, with its unfinished labour, from which the 
 threads depended in that fashion, that showed it had lately occupied the 
 fair hands of the artist. 
 
 This very enviable apartment belonged to Mr. Mountjoy Kennyfeck, 
 the leading solicitor of Dublin, a man, who, for something more than 
 thirty years, had stood at the head of his walk in the capital, and was 
 reputed to be one of its most respected and richest citizens. Mrs. 
 Mountjoy Kennyfeck — neither for our own nor our reader's conveni- 
 ence dare we omit the " prenom" — was of a western family considerably 
 above that of her liege lord and master in matter of genealogy, but 
 whose quarterings had so far survived the family acres, that she was 
 ffun to accept the hand of a wealthy attorney, after having for some 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 29 
 
 years been the belle of her county, and the admired beauty of castle balls 
 and drawing-rooms. 
 
 It had been at first indeed, a very hard struggle for the O' Haras to 
 adopt the style and title of Kennyfeck, and poor Matilda was pitied in 
 all the moods and tenses for exchanging the riotous feudalism of Mayo 
 for the decorous quietude and wealthy " insouciance" of a Dublin man- 
 sion ; and the various scions of the house did not scruple to express very 
 unqualified opinions on the subject of her fall ; but Time — that heals so 
 much — Time and Mr. Kennyfeck's claret, of which they all drank most 
 liberally during the visits to town, assuaged the rancour of these preju- 
 dices, and " Matty," it was hinted, might have done worse ; while some 
 hardy spirit aveiTed that " Kennj^eck, though not one of ourselves, had 
 a great deal of the gentleman about him, notwithstanding. 
 
 A word of Mr. Kennyfeck himself, and even a word will almost 
 suffice. He was a very tall, pompous-looking personage, with a retiring 
 forehead, and a large prominent nose ; he wore a profusion of powder, 
 and always dressed in the most scrupulous black ; he spoke little, and 
 that slowly ; he laughed never. It was not that he was melancholy or 
 depressed ; it seemed rather that his nature had been fashioned in con- 
 formity with the onerous responsibilities of his pursuit, and that he would 
 have deemed any exhibition of mirthful emotion unseemly and unbe- 
 coming one who, so to say, was a kind of high priest in the temple of 
 equity. Next to the Chancellor's he venerated the decisions of Mrs. 
 Kennyfeck, after Mrs. Kennyfeck came the Master of the Rolls. This 
 was his brief and simple faith, and it is astonishing in what simple rules 
 of guidance, men amass vast fortunes, and obtain the highest suffrages 
 of civic honour and respect ! 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck's family consisted of two daughters, the eldest had 
 been a beauty for some years, and, even at the period our tale opens, 
 had lost few of her attractions. She was tall, dark haired, and dark 
 eyed, with an air of what in the Irish capital is called " decided fashion" 
 about her, but in less competent circles might have been called almost 
 effrontery. She looked strangers very steadily in the face, spoke with 
 a voice full, firm, and unabashed — no matter what the subject, or who 
 tlie audience, and gave her opinions on people and events with a careless 
 indifference to consequences that many mistook for high genius, re- 
 bellious against control. 
 
 Olivia, three years younger than her sister, had just come out ; and 
 whether that her beauty — and she was very handsome — required a 
 different style, or that she saw more clearly the " mistake" in Miss 
 Kennyfeck's manner, but she took a path perfectly her own. She was 
 tenderness itself; a delicacy, too susceptible for this work-a-day world, 
 
30 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 pervaded all she said and did — a retiring sensitiveness that she knew, as 
 she plaintively said, would never " let her be loved," overlaid her nature, 
 and made her the victim of her own feelings. Her sketches — everlast- 
 ing Madonnas dissolved in tears — ^her music, the most mournful of the 
 melodies — her reading, the most disastrously ending of modern poems — 
 all accorded with this tone ; which, after all, scarcely consorted well with 
 a very blooming cheek, bright ha^el eyes, and an air and carriage that 
 showed a full consciousness of her captivations, and no small reliance on 
 her capacity to exercise them. 
 
 A brief interval after the servant left the room the door opened, and 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck entered. She was dressed for dinner, and if not exactly 
 attired for the reception of a large company, exhibited, in various 
 details of her costume, unequivocal signs of more than common care ; a 
 massive diamond brooch fastened the front of her dark velvet dress, and 
 on her fingers several rings of great value glittered. Miss Kennyfeck, 
 too, who followed her, was, though simply, most becomingly dressed ; 
 the light and floating material of her robe contrasting well with the more 
 stately folds of the matronly costume of her mother. * 
 
 '•' I am surprised they are not here before this," said Mrs. Kennyfeclf, 
 lying back in the deep recess of a luxurious chair, and placing a screen 
 between herself and the fire. " Your father said positively on the 5th, 
 and as the weather has been most favourable, I cannot understand the 
 delay — the packets arrive at four, I think ?" 
 
 " Yes, at four, and the carriage left this at three to fetch them." 
 
 " Read the note again — he writes so very briefly always ! I'm sure 
 I wish the dear man would understand that I am not a client, and that 
 a letter is not exactly all it might be, because it can be charged its 
 thirteen and fourpence, or six and eightpence, or whatever it is." 
 
 Miss Kennyfeck took an open note from the chimney, and read — 
 
 if 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Kennyfeck, 
 *« We have made all the necessary arrangements in London, and shall 
 leave on the 2nd, so as to arrive at Merrion Square by the 5th. Mr. 
 
 C would, I believe, rather have remained another day in town, but 
 
 there was no possibility of doing so, as the * Chancellor' will sit on 
 Tuesday. Love to the girls, and believe me, yours very truly, 
 
 "M. Kennyfeck. 
 " Invite Jones and Softly to meet us at dinner." 
 
 The clock on the mantel-piece now struck seven, and scarcely had the 
 last chime died away, as a carriage drove up to the door. 
 
 *' Here they come, I suppose," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, with a half sigh. 
 
BOLAND CASHEL. 31 
 
 " No, mamma ; it is a hackney-coach. Mr. Jones, or Mr. Softly, 
 perhaps." 
 
 " Oh, dear, I had forgotten them — how absurd it was to ask these 
 people, and yom* father not here 1" 
 
 The door opened, and the servant announced the Reverend Mr. Knox 
 Softly ; a very tall, handsome, young man entered, and made a most 
 respectful but cordial salutation to the ladies. He was in look and mien 
 the beau ideal of health, strength, and activity, with bright, full, blue 
 eyes, and cheeks rosy as the May. His voice, however, was subdued to 
 the dulcet accent of a low whisper, and his step, as he crossed the room, 
 liad the stealthy noiselessness of a cat's approach. 
 
 ^"^-/'Mt. Kennyfeck quite restored, I hope, from the fatigue of his 
 journey?" 
 
 " We've not seen him yet," replied his lady, almost tartly ; " he 
 ought to have been here at four o'clodc, and yet it's past seven !" 
 
 *'I think I hear a carriage." 
 
 *' Another — " hackney, Miss Kennyfeck was about to say, when she 
 stopped herself, and, at the instant, Counsellor Clare Jones was an- 
 nounced. 
 
 This gentleman was a rising light of the Irish bar, who had the good 
 fortune to attract Mr. Kennyfeck's attention, and was suddenly trans- 
 ferred from the dull duties of civil bills and declarations to business of 
 a more profitable kind. He had been somewhat successful in his college 
 career, carried off some minor honours, was a noisy member of a debat- 
 ing society, wrote leaders for some provincial papers, and with overbearing 
 powers of impudence, and a good memory, was a very Hkely candidate 
 for high forensic honour. 
 
 Unlike the first arrival, the Counsellor had few, if any, of the forms of 
 good society in his manner or address ; his costume, too, was singularly 
 negligent, and as he ran a very dubious hand through a mass of thick and 
 tangled hair on entering, it was easy to see that the greatest part of his 
 toilet was then and there performed. The splashed appearance of his 
 nether garments, and of shoes that might have done honour to snipe- 
 shooting, also showed that the carriage which brought him was a mere 
 ceremonial observance, and, as he would himself say, " the act of con- 
 veyance was a surplusage." 
 
 Those who saw him in court pronounced him the most unabashed and 
 cool of men ; but there was certainly a somewhat of haste and impetu- 
 osity in his drawing-room manner, that even a weak observer would 
 have ascribed to awkwardness. 
 
 " How do you do, Mrs. Kennyfeck ? — how do you, Miss Kennyfeck? 
 
32 . ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 — glad to see you. Ah ! Mr. Softly, — well, I hope ? Is he come — 
 has he arrived ?" A shake of the head replied in the negative. *' Very 
 strange — I can*t understand it. We have a consultation with the 
 Solicitor-General to-morrow, and a meeting in Chambers at four." 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder if Mr. Cashel detained papa, he is very young, 
 you know ; and London must he so new and strange to him, poor 
 lad 1" 
 
 " Yes, but your father would scarce permit it," said Mrs. Kennyfeck 
 smartly. *' I rather think it must have been some accidental circum- 
 stance — coaches are constantly upsetting, and post-horses cannot always 
 be had." 
 
 Mr. Knox Softly smiled benignly, as though to say in these sugges- 
 tions Mrs. Kennyfeck was displaying a very laudable spirit of un- 
 certainty as to the course of human events. 
 
 "Here's Olivia," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, as her younger daughter 
 entered. "Let us hear her impressions— full of forebodings, I don't 
 doubt." 
 
 Miss Olivia Kennyfeck performed her salutations to the guests with 
 the most faultless grace, throwing in to her curtsey to the curate a 
 certain air of filial reverence very pretty to behold, and only a little 
 objectionable on the score of the gentleman's youth and personal attrac- 
 tions ; and then, turning to her mother, said, 
 
 " You are, not uneasy, mamma, I hope ? though, after all, this is 
 about the period of the equinox." 
 
 "Nonsense, child! packets are never lost now-a-days in the L*ish 
 Channel. It's merely some sudden freak of gaiety— some London dis- 
 traction detains them. Will you touch that beli, Mr. Clare Jones ? It 
 is better to order dinner." 
 
 There was something peremptory in the lady's tone and manner that 
 rather damped the efforts at small talk — never very vigorous or well- 
 sustained at these ante-dinner moments, — nor were any of the party 
 very sorry when the servant announced that the soup was served. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 33 
 
 rfy/ " .ovii£-g9fl 9ffj ni'baifqjT JbiJ^d edi'io 9^£i!« A *'SLb' 
 Tooq ,mix{ bis^afiTia Bn/^H AFTER' V. 
 
 t '}7^a^X '- The sherrj ieedTT-tlie compajiy still colder. > • Y 
 
 =" Tfl^'jpkf^'^Ko rioW took their seats at table, were riot made of tliose 
 ingredients whose admixture accomplishes a social meeting. Their 
 natures, pursuits, and tastes were only sufficiently unlike to suggest 
 want of agreement, without possessing the broad contrasts that invite 
 conversation by their own contrariety. Besides this, there was a sense 
 of constraint over every one, from the absence of the host and his 
 expected guest ; and lastly, the very aspect of a gorgeously-decorated 
 table, with vacant places, has always a chilling influence over those who 
 sit around. A certain amount of propinquity is as essential to conver- 
 sation, as good roads and easy distances are a necessary condition to a 
 visiting neighbourhood. If you cannot address him or her who sits 
 beside you ^vathout attracting the attention of the whole table to your 
 remark, you are equally deban'ed from the common-places that induce 
 table-talk, or the smart thing that cannot well be said too publicly. 
 
 The dinner here proceeded in very stately quietude, nor were the 
 efforts of Mr. Jones to introduce a conversational spirit at all success- 
 ful ; indeed, that gifted gentleman would have willingly exchanged the 
 unexceptionable cookery, and admu-ably-conditioned wine before him, 
 for the riotous freedom of a bar mess — where sour sherry and nisi-prlus 
 jokes abounded, and Father somebody's song was sure to give the scene 
 a conviviality that only yielded its fascination to blind hookey, or spoiled 
 five: 
 
 Far otherwise the curate, the angelic smile that sat upon liis features 
 mechanically ; his low, soft, liquid voice ; his gentle gestures, and even 
 his little sallies of pleasantry, were in perfect accordance with the deco- 
 rous solemnity of a scene where the chink of a cut decanter, or the 
 tingling sound of a silver dish-cover, were heard above the stillness of 
 the company. 
 
 If, then, Mr. Knox Softly accompanied the ladies to the door, and 
 followed them out with his eyes, with an expression beaming regretful- 
 ness at their departure, the Counsellor, very differently-minded, sur- 
 rounded himself with an array of the dessert-dishes and decanters, and 
 prepared to discuss his wine and walnuts to his perfect contentment. 
 
84 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " You have never met this Mr. Roland Cashel, I beUeve ?" said Mr. 
 Softly, as he filled a very large claret glass and tasted it enjoyably. 
 
 " Never," replied Jones, whose teeth were busily engaged in smashing 
 almonds and filberts, in open defiance of a tray of silver nutcrackers before 
 him. " I don't think he has been in Ireland since a mere child, and 
 very little in England." 
 
 " Then his recovery of the estate was quite unexpected ?" 
 " Mere accident. Kennyfeck came upon the proofs when making 
 some searches for a collateral claim. The story is very short. This lad's 
 father, whose name was Godfrey Cashel, was a poor lieutenant in the 
 81st, and quartered at Bath, when he chanced to discover that a rich old 
 bachelor there, a certain Godfrey Browne, was a distant relation of his 
 mother. He lost no time in making his acquaintance and explaining 
 the relationship, which, however, brought him no more substantial benefit 
 than certain invitations to dinner, and whist parties, where the unfortu- 
 nate lieutenant lost his half-crowns. 
 
 " At length a note came one morning Inviting him to breakfast, and 
 to * transact a little matter of business.' Poor Godfrey read the words 
 with every commentary that could flatter his hopes, and set out in better 
 spirits than he had known for many a year before. What then was his 
 dismay to discover that he was only wanted to witness the old gentle- 
 man's will ! a very significant proof that he was not to benefit by its 
 provisions. 
 
 '' With a very ill-repressed sigh, the poor lieutenant threw a glance 
 over the half-opened leaves, wjiere leasehold, and copyhold, and freehold, 
 and every other ' hold' figured among funded property, consols, and re- 
 duced annuities — with money lent on mortgages, shares in various com- 
 panies, and what not, — a list only to be equalled by the long catalogue of 
 those * next-of-kin,' who, to the number of seventeen, were mentioned 
 as reversionary heirs. 
 
 " * You are to sign your name here, Mr. Cashel,' said the solicitor, 
 pointing to a carefully scratched portion of the parchment, where already 
 the initials were pencilled for liis guidance. 
 
 " ' Faith! and it's at the other side of the book I'd rather see it,' said 
 the Lieutenant, with a sigh. 
 
 " ' Not, surely after seventeen others !' exclaimed the astonished at- 
 torney. 
 
 " ' Even so — a chance is better than nothing.' 
 
 " ' What's that he's saying?' interposed the old man, who sat reading 
 his newspaper at the fire. The matter was soon explained by the at- 
 torney, and when he finished, Cashel added — * That's just it ; and I'm 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 35 
 
 to sail forthe Cape on the 4th of next month, and if you'll put me down 
 among the rest of the fellows, I'll send you the best pipe of Constantia 
 you ever tasted, as sure as my name is Godfrey Cashel.' 
 
 " The old man threw his spectacles up on his forehead, wiped his eyes, 
 and then replacing his glasses, took a deliberate survey of the poor lieute- 
 nant who had proposed such a very * soft' bargain. * Eh ! Clinchet,' 
 said he to the attorney, * can we do this for him ?' 
 
 " ' Nothing easier. Sir, — let the gentleman come in last, as residuary 
 legatee, and it alters nothing/ 
 
 " ' I suppose you count on your good luck,* said old Browne, 
 grinning. 
 
 " ' Oh, then, it's not from my great experience that way,' said Cashel. 
 * I've been on the * Duke's list' for promotion seventeen years already, and, 
 for all I see, not a bit nearer it than the first day ; but there's no reason 
 my poor boy should be such an unfortunate devil. Who knows but 
 fortune may make amends to him one of these days ? Come, Sir — is it a 
 bargain ?' 
 
 '' * To be sure. I'm quite willing — only don't forget the Constantia. 
 It's a wine Hike a glass of very well indeed, after my dinner.' 
 
 " The remainder is easily told : the lieutenant sailed for the Cape, 
 and kept his word, even though it cost him a debt that mortgaged his 
 commission. Old Browne gave a great dinner when the wine arrived, 
 and the very first name on the list of legatees, his nephew, caught a fever 
 on his way home from it, and died in three weeks. 
 
 " Kennyfeck could tell us, if he were here, what became of each of 
 them in succession ; four were lost, out yachting, at once ; but, singular as it 
 may seem, in nineteen years from the date of that will, every life lapsed, 
 — and stranger still, without heirs, and the fortune has now descended 
 to poor Godfrey Cashel's boy, the lieutenant himself having died in the 
 West Indies, where he exchanged into a native regiment. That is the 
 whole story, and probably in a romance one would say that the thing 
 was exaggerated, so much more strange is truth than fiction.'* 
 
 *' And what kind of education did the young man get ?" 
 
 " I suppose very little, if any. So long as his father lived, he of course 
 held the position of an ofiicer's son — poor, but in the rank of gentleman. 
 After that, without parents — his mother died when he was an infant- 
 ile was thrown upon the world, and, after various vicissitudes, became a 
 cabin boy on board of a merchantman ; then, he was said to be a mate 
 of a vessel in the African trade, employed on the Gold Coast ; just as 
 probably a slaver — and last of all, he was lieutenant in the Columbian 
 navy, which, I take it, is a very good name for piracy. It was in the 
 
 D 2 
 
36 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Havannah we got a trace of him, and I assure you, strange as it may 
 sound, Kennyfeck's agent had no small difficulty in persuading him to 
 abandon that very free and easy service, to assume the rights and immu- 
 nities of a very large property. 
 
 " Kennyfeck was to meet him on his arrival in England, about ten 
 days ago, and they spent a few days in London, and were — but hark ! 
 there comes a carriage now — yes, I know the step of his horses — here 
 they are!" 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 J Y . ^ Ne'er mind his torn, ill-fashioned doublet, 
 • o'*^ / t"^'^^ Beshrew me ! if he's not a pretty man. 
 ■fiOY iiJ HO'( Don Lopez. 
 
 Trik movement and bustle ia the hall, showed that Mr. Jones's 
 surmise was correct, for scarcely had the carriage stopped than the 
 street-door was flung wide open, and Mr. Pearse, the butler, followed by 
 a strong detachment of bright-liveried menials, stood bowing their 
 respectful compliments to their master and his guest. As Mr. Kenny- 
 feck entered the house, he walked slowly and with difficulty, endeavour- 
 ing at the same time to avoid all scrutiny of his appearance as he passed 
 through the crowded hall ; but, although his hat was pressed firmly over 
 his brows, it could not entirely conceal a very suspiciously- tinted margin 
 around one eye, while the care with which he defended his left arm, and 
 which he carried in his waistcoat, looked like injury there, also. 
 
 He, however, made an attempt at a little sprightliness of manner, 
 as, shaking his companion's hand with cordial warmth, he said, 
 
 " Welcome to Ireland, Mr. Cashel, I hope I shall very often expe- 
 rience the happiness of seeing you under this roof." 
 
 The person addressed was a remarkably handsome young man, whose 
 air and carriage bespoke, however, much more the confidence that results 
 from a sense of personal gifts, and a bold, daring temperament, than 
 that more tempered ease which is the consequence of fashionable 
 breeding. 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck's felicitations on their arrival were scarce uttered, ere 
 Cashel had sufficiently recovered from his surprise at the unexpected 
 magnificence of the house, to make any reply; for, although as yet 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. o7 
 
 advanced no further than the hall, a marhle group by Canova — a centre 
 lamp of costly Sevres — and some chairs of carved ebony, served to indi- 
 cate the expensive style of the remainder of the mansion. 
 
 While Cashel, then, muttered his acknowledgments, he added to 
 himself, but in a voice scarcely less loud, 
 
 " Devilish good crib this. Master Kennyfeck." 
 
 " Pearse," said the host, " is dinner ready ?" 
 
 " My mistress and the young ladies have dined. Sir ; but Mr. Jones 
 and Mr. Softly are in the parlour." 
 
 " Well, let us have something at once ; — or, would you prefer, 
 Mr. Cashel, making any change in your dress first ?" 
 
 " I say dinner above all things," said the youth, disencumbering 
 himself of a great Mexican mantle. 
 
 '' Perfectly right, quite agree with you," said Kennyfeck, endeavour- 
 ing to assume a little of his guest's dash ; " and here we are. Ah, Jones, 
 how d'ye do ? Mr. Cashel, this is my friend Mr. Jones. Mr. Softly, 
 very glad to see you. Mr. Softly — Mr. Cashel. Don't stir, I beg ; 
 keep your places, we'll have a bit of dinner here, and join you at your 
 wine afterwards. Meanwhile, I'll just step up stairs, and be back again 
 in a moment — you'll excuse me, I'm sure ?" 
 
 " Oh, certainly," cried Cashel, who appeared as if he could excuse any 
 thing with a better grace than the ceremonious slowness of the butler's 
 arrangements. 
 
 There was a pause of a few seconds as Mr. Kennyfeck left the room, 
 broken, at last, by Mr. Jones asking if they had not been detained by 
 contrary winds. 
 
 " No, I think not ; I fancy the weather was pretty average kind of 
 weather. Had we been expected here earlier?" 
 
 " Yes ; Mrs. Kennyfeck mentioned to me, Monday, and afterwards 
 Tuesday, as the very latest day for your arrival." 
 
 Cashel made no remark, and, soon after, Mr. Pearse's entrance with 
 the soup put an end to the conversation. " Mr. Kennyfeck desired me 
 to say, Sir, not to wait for him — he'll be down presently." 
 
 " What do you call this soup ?" 
 
 " Mock-turtle, Sir." 
 
 " Rather too much Madeira in it for my taste ; but that shan't prevent 
 my having a glass of wine. Will you permit me, gentlemen ?" • 
 
 The parties bowed politely ; but still the intercourse did not progress; 
 and in the exchanged glances of those at the large table, and the side- 
 long looks Cashel occasionally threw towards t'nem, it was easy to see 
 that neither party had made way with the other. 
 
38 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " I fear Kennyfeck is not going to make his appearance," said Cashel, 
 as lie seemed to hesitate about proceeding with his dinner. 
 
 " I shouldn't advise you waiting," cried Jones, " the fish is growing 
 cold." 
 
 " I suspect Mr. Kennyfeck is fatigued by his journey, Sir," said Mr. 
 Softly, in his most bland of voices ; "I thought I remarked it by his 
 face." 
 
 " Oh, did you?" said Cashel, with a very peculiar look of knowing- 
 ness. 
 
 " Yes ; you are aware, Mr. Cashel," interrupted Jones, *' our friend 
 isn't much used to that kind of thing. I suppose it's some years since 
 he has had so much knocking about, as in these last few days." 
 
 " I fancy so," said Cashel, with a significant smile that puzzled the 
 lawyer exceedingly, and he ate on without making a further remark. 
 
 The two or three efforts made by Jones and Softly to converse toge^ 
 ther, were, like nearly all similar attempts at perfect ease and self-pos- 
 session, complete failures, and gradually slided down into monosyllables, 
 and then to silence. When Cashel, who seemed to be enjoying his 
 venison and Bourdeaux, with perfect zest, leaned back in his chair and 
 said, " What kind of place is this same good city of Dublin ? What goes 
 forward here ?'* 
 
 As this question was more directly addressed to Jones, that gentleman 
 prepared himself, not unwillingly, for an elaborate reply. 
 
 " Dublin, Mr. Cashel," said he, pretty much in the same tone he would 
 have used in opening an address to a jury ; " Dublin is a city, which, 
 from a great variety of causes, will always be exposed to very variable 
 and opposing criticisms. To begin : it is provincial — " 
 
 " Is it slow ?" interrupted Cashel, who had listened to this exordium 
 with palpable signs of impatience. 
 
 " If you mean, has it its share of those habits of dissipation, those ex- 
 cesses so detrimental alike to health and fortune." 
 
 " No, no ; I merely ask what goes on here —how do people amuse 
 themselves ?" said Cashel, fencing to avoid any very lengthened expo- 
 sure of the other's views. 
 
 " They dine, dance, drink tea, talk politics and scandal, like other 
 folk ; but if you ask, what are the distinguishing features of the so- 
 ciety—" 
 
 " What kind of sport does the country afford ?" interrupted Roland^ 
 somewhat unceremoniously. 
 
 " Hunting, shooting, fishing, coursing — " 
 
 " What do you mean by hunting — a fox, is it?" 
 
EOLAND CASHEL, 39 
 
 " Yes, fox-hunting and hare-hunting, too." 
 
 A very insolent laugh was Cashel's answer, as, turning to Mr. Softly, 
 he said, " Well, I own, all this does strike me as a very tiresome kind of 
 life. Do you like Ireland, Sir ?" 
 
 " I feel a deep interest in it," said the curate, with a most solemn 
 manner. 
 
 " Yes, that's all very well ; but do you like it ?" 
 
 " Were it not for its darkness," said Mr. Softly, sighing, " I should 
 say Hiked it." 
 
 " Darkness," echoed Cashel, " darkness ; why hang it you are pretty 
 far north here. What is the darkness you speak of ?" 
 
 " I alluded to Popery, Sir, — to the obscuring mists of superstition and 
 ignorance," replied Mr. Softly, with a kind of energetic timidity that 
 made himself blush. 
 
 " Oh — I perceive — yes — I understand," muttered Cashel, who cer- 
 tainly felt all the awkwardness of a man caught in a lie. 
 
 " We have a very agreeable society among the Bar men," said Jones, 
 returning to the charge in a new direction, "a great deal of pleasantry 
 and fun goes on at our messes." 
 
 " Droll fellows, I suppose," said Cashel, carelessly. *' I remember I 
 knew a lawyer once, he was mate of a small clipper in the African trade 
 — mischievous kind of devil he was, too — always setting the slaves by the 
 ears, and getting money for settling the differences. They played him 
 a good trick at last." Here he laughed heartily at the recollection 
 for several minutes. 
 
 " What was it ?" asked Jones, in some curiosity to learn how the Bar 
 was respected on the banks of the Niger. 
 
 " They painted him black and sold him at Cuba," said Cashel, who 
 once more broke out into laughter at the excellence of the jest. 
 
 Jones' and Softly 's eyes met with a most complete accordance in the 
 glances exchanged. Meanwhile, Cashel drawing his chair towards the 
 larger table, filled his glass and proceeded to smash his walnuts with all 
 the easy contentment of a man who had dined well. 
 
 " I perceive Mr. Kenny feck is not likely to join us," said Softly, with 
 a half suggestive look towards the door. 
 
 " Tired, perhaps," said Jones, affecting what he opined to be the cool 
 indifference of the highest fashion. 
 
 " More than that, I suspect," said Cashel, with a most unfeigned 
 carelessness. " Did you remark his eye ?" 
 
 " Yes !" exclaimed both together. " What could that mean ?" 
 
 *' A slight bit of a scrimmage we had on the way from town — a — '' 
 
40 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Mr. Kennyfeck engaged in a row I" cried Softly, almost incredible 
 at the tidings. 
 
 " Yes. I fancy that is about the best word for it," said Cashel, sip- 
 ping his wine. "I suppose one ought not to mention these kind of 
 things, but of course they are safe with you. They'll never go further 
 I am certain." 
 
 " Oh never — not a syllable," chimed in the two. 
 
 " Well, then, on our way here, I learned that there were to be races 
 a few miles from Coventry, and as I saw our friend Kennyfeck had 
 no fancy for the sight, I just slipped a few half crowns into the postboy's 
 hand and told him to drive there instead of taking the Liverpool road. 
 Away we went at a good pace, and in less than an hour reached the 
 course. I wish you saw the old gentleman's face when he awoke from 
 a sound nap, and saw the grand stand with it^ thousand faces, all in a 
 row, and the cords, the betting ring, and the whole circumstance of a 
 race ground. By good luck, too, the sharp jerk of our pull-up, smashed 
 a spring, and so we had nothing for it, but to leave the chaise and wait till 
 it could be repaired. While my servant was away in search of some 
 kind of a drag or other, to go about the field — there was no walking*, 
 what with the crowd and the press of horses, not to speak of the mud 
 that rose over the ancles — we pushed on, that is, I did, with a stout 
 grip of Kennyfeck 's arm lest he should escape — we pushed on, into the 
 ring. Here there was rare fun going forward, every fellow screaming 
 out his bets, and booking them as fast as he could. At first, of course, 
 the whole was all ancient Greek to me. I neither knew what they meant 
 by the ' favourite,' or *the odds,' or 'the field,' but one somehow always 
 can pick up a thing quickly, if it be but ' game,' and so, by watching here, 
 and listening there, I managed to get a kind of inkling of the whole 
 affair, and by dint of some pushing and elbowing, I reached the very 
 centre of the ring Avhere the great Dons of the course were betting 
 together. 
 
 *' ' Taurus even against the field,' cried one. 
 
 " ' Taurus against the field/ shouted another. 
 
 *' And this same cry was heard on every side. 
 
 " ' Give it in fifties — hundreds if you like better,' said a young fellow 
 mounted on a smart looking pony, to his friend, who appeared to 
 reflect on the offer. ' Come hurry on, man. Let's have a bet just to 
 give one an interest in the race.' The other shook his head, and the 
 first went on, * What a slow set, to be sure. — Is no one willing to back 
 the field, even ? Come then, here's a hundred pound to any man who'll 
 take the field against Taurus, for two thousand.* 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 41 
 
 ** ' Let me have your cob/ said I, * and I'll take the bet.' 
 
 " He turned round in his saddle, and stared at me, as if I were some- 
 thing more or less than human, while a very general roar of laughing 
 ran around the entire circle. 
 
 *• * Come away, come away at once,* whispered Kennyfeck, trembling 
 with fright. 
 
 " * Yes you had better move oflF, my friend,* said a thick set, rough- 
 looking fellow, in a white coat. 
 
 " * What say you to five thousand, Sir, does that suit your book ?' 
 cried the young fellow to me, in a most insolent tone. 
 
 " ' Oh let him alone, my Lord,' said another. ' Take no notice of 
 him.' 
 
 " ' I say, Grindle,' cried a tall thin man with moustaches, ' who let 
 these people inside the ring ?' 
 
 *' ' They forces their way, my Lud,' said a little knocker-kneed crea- 
 ture, in a coat four times too big for him, ' and I says to Bill, de — ^pend 
 upon it. Bill, them's the swell mob.' 
 
 " The words were scarcely out of the fellow's mouth, when a general 
 cry of the * swell mob' resounded on every side, and at once they closed 
 upon us — some pushing — others elbowing — driving — and forcing, so that 
 what with the dense crowd, and the tight hold Kennyfeck now kept of 
 me, I was pinioned, and could do nothing. At last, by a vigorous 
 twist, I shook them off from me, and laid two of the foremost at my 
 feet ; this I did with a Mexican trick I saw they knew nothing about — 
 you first make a feint at the face, and then dropping on the knee, seize 
 the fellow by both legs, and hurl him back on his head — just stand up, 
 I'll not hurt you." 
 
 " Thank you — I understand the description perfectly," said Mr. Softly, 
 pale v.'ith terror at the proposed experiment. 
 
 " Well, the remainder is soon told. They now got in upon us, and 
 of course, I needn't say, we got confoundedly thrashed — Kennyfeck 
 was tumbled about like a foot-ball, every one that had nothing else to do, 
 had a kick at him, and there's no saying how it might have ended had 
 not a certain Sir George Somebody recognised our poor friend, and 
 rescued him. I'm not quite sure that I was quite myself about this 
 time — Kennyfeck has some story of my getting on some one's horse, and 
 riding about the course in search of the originators of the fray ; the 
 end of it, however, was, we reached Liverpool with sorer bones than was 
 altogether pleasant, and although, when Kennyfeck went to bed, I went 
 to tlie theatre, the noise only increased my headache, and it needed a 
 good night's sleep to set me all right again." 
 
 " Mr. Kennyfeck taken for one of the swell mob !" exclaimed Softly, 
 
42 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 with a sort of holy horror that seemed to sum up his whole opinion of the 
 narrative. 
 
 " Very bad, wasn't it ?" said Cashel, pushing the wine past ; " but he's 
 a capital fellow, took the whole thing in such good part, and seems only 
 anxious the story shouldn't get abroad. Of course I needn't repeat my 
 caution on that subject ?" 
 
 '^ Ob, certainly not I Shall we join the ladies?" said Mr. Jones, as 
 he surveyed his whiskers, and arranged the tie of his cravat before the 
 glass. 
 
 " I'm quite ready," said Cashel, who had quietly set down in his own 
 mind, that the ladies of the Kennyfeck family were a kind of female fac- 
 simile of the stiff-looking old attorney, and, therefore, felt very few 
 qualms on the subject of his disordered and slovenly appearance. 
 • Scarcely had Cashel entered the drawing-room, than he found his 
 hand grasped in Mr. Kennyfeck's, when, with a most dulcet accent, he 
 said, 
 
 " I knew you'd forgive me — I told Mrs. Kennyfeck you'd excuse me 
 for not joining you at dinner, but I was really so fatigued. Mrs.. Kenny- 
 feck — Mr. Cashel. My daughter, Mr. Cashel. My daughter Olivia. 
 Well now, have you dined heartily — I hope my friends here took care 
 of you?" 
 
 " I thank you. I never dined better — only sorry not to have had 
 your company. We have our apologies to make, Mrs. Kennyfeck,- for 
 not being earlier ; but, of course, you've heard that we did our very 
 utmost." 
 
 " Oh ! yes, yes ; I explained every thing," interrupted Kennyfeck, most 
 eager to stop a possible exposure. " Mrs. Kennyfeck knows it all." 
 
 Although Cashel's manner and address were of a kind to subject him 
 to the most severe criticism of the ladies of the Kennyfeck family, they 
 evinced the most laudable spirit in the hospitable and even cordial 
 reception of him. Mrs. Kennyfeck making room for him to sit on the 
 sofa beside her ; a post of honour that even the Castle aides-de-camp 
 only enjoyed by great favour, while the daughters listened with an 
 attention as flattering to him, as it was galling to the other two 
 guests. 
 
 Mr. Softly, however, resigned himself to this neglect as to a passing 
 cloud of forgetful ness, and betook himself to the columns of the Morning 
 Post for consolation, occasionally glancing over the margin to watch the 
 laughing group around the fire. As for Jones, Mr. Kennyfeck had 
 withdrawn with that gentleman into a window, where the tactics of 
 some bill in equity engaged their attention, manifestly, however, to the 
 young barrister's discontent, as his frequent stolen looks towards the 
 ladies evidenced. 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 43 
 
 It was the first time that the Kennyfecks had ever deigned to listen 
 to any one, whose claims to a hearing rested on higher grounds than the 
 light gossip and small talk of the capital, the small fashionable chit-chat of 
 a provincial city, and which bears the same resemblance to the table-talk 
 of the greater metropolis as do larks to ortolans, when disguised in the 
 same kind of sauce. Only those accustomed to the higher flavour 
 being able to detect the difference. It was, then, with as much surprise 
 as pleasure that they found themselves listening to the narratives in 
 which not a single noble or lordly personage figured, nor one single 
 incident occurred reflecting on the taste, the wealth, or the morals of 
 their acquaintance. It was no less a novelty, too, for Cashel, to find 
 any one a listener to descriptions of scenes and habits in whose 
 familiarity he saw nothing strange or remarkable ; so that when the 
 young ladies, at first, attracted by mere curiosity, became gradually more 
 and more interested in his stories, his flattered vanity gave new warmth 
 to an enthusiasm always ardent, and he spoke of Prairie life and 
 adventure with a degree of eloquence and power that might have cap- 
 tivated even less indulgent auditors. 
 
 It was, besides, the first time that they ever had seen great wealth un- 
 allied with immense pretension. Cashel, perhaps from character, or that 
 his accession to fortune was too recent, and his consequent ignorance of 
 all that money can do, whichever of these the cause, was certainly the 
 most unassuming young man they had ever met. In comparison with 
 him, the Aides-de-camp were princes of the blood ; even Mr. Jones 
 himself put forth a degree of pretension on the score of his abilities, 
 which stood in strong contrast with the unaffected and simple modesty 
 of Roland Cashel. 
 
 It is but fair to all parties to add, that dark and flashing eyes, shaded 
 by long and drooping lashes ; a high and massive forehead ; a brown, 
 almost Spanish complexion ; whose character was increased by a pair of 
 short, coal-black moustaches, did not detract from the merit of tales, 
 which, as they chiefly related to feats of personal daring and address, 
 were well corroborated by the admirable symmetry and handsome pro- 
 portions of the relater. 
 
 Story followed story ; now, the scene lay in the low and misty swamps 
 of the Niger, where night resounds with the dull roar of the beast of 
 prey, and the heavy plash of the sluggish alligator on the muddy 
 shore ; now, it was in the green wood of the Spice Islands, amid an 
 atmosphere scented with perfume, and glittering with every gorgeous 
 hue of plumage and verdure. At one moment he would describe a 
 chase at sea, with all its high and maddening excitement, as each new 
 vicissitude of success or failure arose ; and then he would present some 
 
44 ROLAJ^D CASHEL. 
 
 little qulefc picture of shore life in a land, where the boundless 
 resources of Nature supply, even anticipate, the wants and luxuries of 
 man. 
 
 Whatever the interest, and occasionally it rose to a high pitch, that 
 attended his narratives of danger and daring, the little sketches he 
 gave from time to time of the domestic life of these far-away people, 
 seemed to attract the most delighted attention of his fair hearers, parti- 
 cularly when his narrative touched upon the traits whether of beauty, 
 dress, or demeanour, that distinguish the belles of New Spain. 
 
 " How difficult," said Miss Kennyfeck, " I could almost say, how im- 
 possible to leave a land so abounding in the romance of life, for all the 
 dull and common-place realities of European existence." 
 
 *' How hard to do so without leaving behind the heart that could feel 
 such ecstacies," murmured Olivia, with a half-raised eyelid, and a glance 
 that made Cashel flush with delight. 
 
 " How shall we ever make Ireland compensate you for quitting so 
 lovely a country," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, with a smile rarely accorded to 
 any thing lower than a Viscount. 
 
 " We have a Mexican proverb, Madam," said Cashel, gaily, " which 
 says, * Wherever the sun shines bright eyes shine also ;' but enough of 
 these tiresome memories, in which my egotism will always involve me. 
 Shall we have a Fandango ?" 
 
 "I don't know it ; I never saw it danced." 
 
 " Well, the Manolo, then ?" 
 
 *' Nor that either," said both girls, laughing. 
 
 " AVell, will you learn ? Til teach you the Manolo. It's very simple. 
 If you'll play the air. Miss Kennyfeck, it runs thus, — " here he opened 
 the pianoforte, and after a few chords, struck with a masterly finger, he 
 played a little Spanish dance ; but with a spirit of execution, and in such 
 an exciting character of time and measure, that a general exclamation of 
 delight broke from the whole room ; Mr. Jones himself forgetting all 
 rivalry, and Mr. Softly laying down his newspaper to listen, and for a 
 moment carried away by the fascination of the spirit-stirring melody. 
 
 " That is the Manolo ; come, now, and let me teach you, first the air 
 and then the dance." 
 
 '•' Oh, I never could succeed to give it that character of bold and 
 haughty defiance it breathes from you," said Miss Kennyfeck. 
 
 " Nay, nay, a man's hand is always so rude and heavy, it needs the 
 taper finger of a lady," here Cashel bent and kissed the hand he held, 
 but with such a deference and respect in the salute, that deprived the 
 action, so novel to our eyes, of any appearance of a liberty, — " of a lady," 
 he resumed, " to impart the ringing brilliancy of the saucy Manolo." 
 
ROLAKD CASHEL. 45 
 
 *' Then play it over once more, and I'll try," said Miss Kennyfeck, 
 who was a most accomplished musician, and had even already caught up 
 the greater part of the air. 
 
 Cashel obeyed, and again the plaudits followed even more enthusiasti- 
 cally than the first time. With a precision that called forth many a 
 hearty "bravo" from Roland, Miss Kennyfeck played over the air, catching 
 up all the spirit of its transitions from gay to plaintive, and from tender to 
 a strain bold, daring, and energetic. 
 
 " Now for the dance," exclaimed Cashel, eagerly, as he busied himself 
 in removing chairs and pushing back sofas. " Will you be kind enough 
 to assist me with this table ?" 
 
 Mr. Softly, the gentlemen thus addressed, rose to comply, his face ex- 
 hibiting a very amusing struggle between shame and astonishment at the 
 position he occupied. 
 
 The space cleared, Roland took Olivia's hand, and led her forward with 
 an air of exceeding deference. 
 
 " Now, Miss Kennyfeck, the step is the easiest thing in the world. It 
 goes so, one two, one, two, three, and then, change — exactly, quite right, 
 you have it perfectly. This is, as it were, an introduction to the dance, 
 but the same step is preserved throughout, merely changing its time with 
 the measure." 
 
 It would be as impossible to follow, as it would be unfair to weary the 
 reader with the lesson, which now began, and yet we would like to linger 
 on the theme, as our memory brings up every graceful gesture, and every 
 proud attitude of the fascinating Manolo. Representing as it does by 
 pantomimic action, a little episode of devotion, in which pursuit and 
 flight, entreaty, rejection, seductive softness, haughty defiance, timid 
 fear, and an even insolent boldness, alternate and succeed each other. All 
 the movements which expressive action can command, whether of figure 
 or feature are called forth. Now, it is the retiring delicacy of shrinking, 
 timid loveliness, half-hoping, half- fearing, to be pm'sued — Now the 
 stately defiance of haughty beauty, demanding homage as its due. At 
 one moment, the winning seductiveness that invites pursuit, and then, 
 sudden as the lightning, the disdain that repels advance. 
 
 Not the least interesting part of the present scene, was to watch how 
 Olivia, who, at first, made each step and gesture with diffidence and 
 fear, as she went on, became, as it were, seized with the characteristic 
 spirit of the measure ; her features varying with each motive of the 
 music ; her eyes, at one instant half closed in dreamy languor, and at the 
 next flashing in all the brilliancy of conscious beauty. As for Roland, 
 forgetting, as well he might, all his functions as teacher, he moved with 
 the enthusiastic spirit of the dance — his rapturous gaze displaying the 
 
46 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 admiration that fettered him ; and when, at last, as it were yielding to 
 long proved devotion, she gave her hand, it needed the explanation 
 of its being a Mexican fashion to excuse the ardour with which he 
 pressed it to his lips. 
 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck's applause, however, was none the less warm ; and, 
 if any of the company disapproved, they prudently said nothing ; even 
 Mr. Softly, who only evidenced his feeling by a somewhat hasty resump- 
 tion of the Morning Post, while the elder sister, rising from the piano, 
 whispered, as she passed her sister, "Bad jockey ship, Livy, dear, to 
 make fast running so early." 
 
 " And that is the — what d'ye call it, Mr. Cashel ?" said Mrs. Kenny- 
 feck. 
 
 " The Manolo, Madam. It is of Italian origin, rather than Spanish : 
 Calabrian, I fancy j but, in Mexico, it has become national, and well 
 suits the changeful temper of our Spanish belles, and the style of their 
 light and floating costume." 
 
 " Yes, I suspect it has a better effect, with short drapery, than with 
 the sweeping folds of our less picturesque dress," said Miss Kennyfeck, 
 who, for reasons we must not inquire, took a pleasure in qualifying her 
 approval. 
 
 " I never saw it appear more graceful," said Cashel, with a blunt 
 abruptness far more flattering than a studied compliment. Olivia 
 blushed ; Mrs. Kennyfeck looked happy, and the elder sister bit her 
 lips and threw up her eyebrows, with, an expression we cannot attempt 
 to render in words. 
 
 " May I not have the honour of introducing you to the Manolo ?" 
 said Cashel, presenting himself before her with a deep bow. 
 
 " Thank you, I prefer being a spectator ; besides, we could have no 
 music — my sister does not play." -^ 
 
 Olivia blushed ; and, in her hasty look, there was an expression of 
 gently conveyed reproach, as though to say, " This is unfair." 
 
 "Do you like music, Mr. Cashel?" continued Miss Kennyfeck, who 
 saw the slight cloud of disappointment that crossed Roland's features ; 
 <' Oh, I'm certain you do, and I know you sing !" 
 
 " Yes ;" said Cashel, carelessly ; "' as every one sings in that merry 
 land I come from ; but I fear the wild carollings of a Ranchero would 
 scarce find acceptance in the polished ears of Europe." 
 
 *' What are the melodies like then ?" asked Miss Kennyfeck, throwing 
 into the question a most eager interest. 
 
 *' You shall hear, if you like," said Roland, taking up a guitar, and 
 striking a few full chords with a practised hand. " This is one of the war 
 songs," and without further preface he began. Had he even been less 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 47 
 
 gifted than he was as to voice and musical taste, there was enough in 
 the bold and manly energy of his manner, in the fiery daring of his dark 
 eyes, and the expressive earnestness of his whole bearing, to attract the 
 admiration of his hearers. But besides these advantages, he was not 
 unskilled in the science of music, and even made so poor an instrument, 
 a full and masterly accompaniment, imitating, as few but Spaniards can 
 do, the distant sound of drums, the dropping 6re of cannon, the wild 
 abrupt changes of battle, and the low plaintive sounds of suffering and 
 defeat ; so that, as he concluded, the whole character of the performance 
 had ceased to be regarded as a mere musical display, but had the abso- 
 lute effect of a powerfully-told story. 
 
 The Kennyfecks had often been called on in society to award their 
 praises to amateur performances, in whose applause be it said, en passant, 
 a grateful sense of their being concluded always contributes the enthu- 
 siasm ; but real admiration and pleasure now made them silent, and as 
 their eyes first turned on the singer and then met, there was a world of 
 intelligence in that one quiet fleeting glance, that revealed more of secret 
 thought and feeling, than we, as mere chroniclers of events, dare inquire 
 into. 
 
 Whether it was that this silence, prolonged for some seconds, sug- 
 gested the move, or that Mr. Jones began to feel how ignoble a part he 
 had been cast for in the whole evening's entertainment, but he rose to 
 take his leave at once, throwing into his manner a certain air of easy 
 self-sufficiency, with which in the " Courts" he had often dismissed a wit- 
 ness under cross-examination, and by a mere look and gesture contrived 
 to disparage his testimony. 
 
 None, save Miss Kennyfeck, perceived his tactic. She saw it, how- 
 ever, and with a readiness all her own, replied by a slight elevation of 
 the eyebrow. Jones saw his " signal acknowledged," and went home 
 contented. Poor man, he was not the first who has been taken into 
 partnership because his small resources were all " ready," and who is 
 ejected from the firm when wider and grander speculations are entered 
 on. I am not certain either that he will be the last ! 
 
 Mr. Softly next withdrew, his leave-taking having all the blended 
 humility and cordiality of his first arrival ; and now Mr. Kennyfeck was 
 awakened out of a very sound nap by his wife, saying in his ear, " Will 
 you ask Mr. Cashel if he'll take a biscuit and a glass of wine before he 
 retires ?" 
 
 This proposition was politely declined, and after a very cordial hand- 
 shaking with all the members of the family, Cashel said his good night 
 and retired. 
 
48 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Ich mbchte ihn im Sclilafrock sehen. 
 
 Der Keisende Teufel. 
 I'd like to see him in his robe de chambre. 
 
 The Travelling Devel. 
 
 There has always appeared to us something of treachery, not to 
 speak of indelicacy, in the privileges authors are wont to assume in 
 following their characters into their most secret retirement, watching 
 there their every movement and gesture, overhearing their confidential 
 whisperings, nay, sometimes sapping their very thoughts for the mere 
 indulgence of a prying intrusive curiosity. 
 
 For this reason, highly appreciating, as we must do, the admirable 
 wit of the " Diable Boiteux," and the pleasant familiar humor of the 
 " Hermite de la Chausse d'Antin," we never could entirely reconcile 
 ourselves to the meaiis by which such amusing views of life were ob- 
 tained, while we entertain grave doubts if we, that is, the world at large, 
 have any right to form our judgments of people from any other evidence 
 than what is before the public. It appears to us somewhat as if, that 
 following Romeo or Desdemona into the " Green-room," we should be 
 severe upon the want of keeping which suggested the indulgence of a 
 cigar or a pot of porter, and angry at the high-flown illusions so 
 grossly routed and dispelled. 
 
 " Act well your part — there all the honour lies," said the poet moralist, 
 but it's rather hard to say, that you are to " act " it, off, as well as on 
 the stage ; and if it be true that no man is a hero to his valet, the valet 
 should say nothing about it ; and this is the very offence we think novel 
 writers commit, everlastingly stripping off the decorations and destroy- 
 ing the illusions they take such trouble to create, for little else than the 
 vain boastfulness of saying: — see, upon what flimsy materials I can move 
 you to sentiments of grief, laughter, pity, or contempt. Behold of what 
 vulgar ingredients are made up the highest aspirations of genius — the 
 most graceful fascinations of beauty. 
 
 Having denounced, by this recorded protest, the practice, and dis- 
 claiming, as we must do, all desire to benefit by its enjoyment, we desire 
 our reader, particularly if he be of the less worthy gender, to feel a due 
 sense of the obligation he owes us, if we claim his company for half-an- 
 hour on such a voyage of discovery. Step softly, there is no excuse for 
 noise, as the stair-carpet is thick, and not a sound need be heard. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 4^ 
 
 Gently, as you pass that green door — that is the bed-room of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck. We will not linger there, nor invade the sanctity of 
 those precincts, witliin which the monotonous tones of Mrs. K. are heard, 
 revelling in that species of domestic eloquence which, like the liberty of 
 the press, is oftener pleasant to those who employ, than to those who 
 receive its judgments. Here, for a few minutes, let us stay. This is 
 Roland Cashel's apartment; and, strange enough, instead of sleeping, he 
 is up at his table, writing too, lie, of all men, the least epistolary. 
 There may be no great indication of character in mere handwriting, 
 but the manner, the gesture, the degree of rapidity of the writer, as 
 seen at the moment, are all full of individuality. Mark, then, with 
 what speed his pen moves ; not the daisy-cutting sling of the accom- 
 plished writer, but the slashing gallop of the heavy charger. Many a 
 blot, never an erasure — so, there it goes — " Yours ever Roland Cashel," 
 and now, he begins another. Come, these are no times for squeamish- 
 ness. Let us anticipate " Sir James," and read before he seals it. 
 
 "Dublin. 
 " Mr DEAR Comrade, 
 
 " We are neither of us very gifted letter writers, but events are always 
 enough to tell, even when style be wanting ; and here am I, so over- 
 whelmed by the rush of new sensations, that I know not where to begin, or 
 how to tell what has really happened since we parted, nor distinguish actual 
 stubborn facts from my own fancies. My brief note from Porto Giacomo 
 told you that I had succeeded to something like fifteen thousand pounds 
 a year. I believe it is rather more, with a good, round sum, I don't 
 know how much, in Bank ; and now, here I am, just arrived, but mar- 
 vellously at home, in the house of the woiihy fellow that has established 
 my claim. 
 
 " If I only knew so much of my good luck, I'd say it was no bad thing 
 to be pleasantly domesticated in a capital mansion, with every refinement 
 and luxury at hand, and two such girls, the daughters ! Oh, amigo 
 mio, you'd think wondrous little of the Barcelonetta belles, if I could 
 show you these damsels ! Such tempting shyness — such shrinking 
 playful modesty, and then so frank, without that slap-dash abruptness — 
 Never mind — I own freely that Maritana is lovely — there is not such a 
 mouth — As to a foot — well, well. I wished I could take a peep at you 
 all again, just as night closes, and she comes out to take her walk upon 
 the grass, and hear her singing as she went, or watch her as she danced 
 the Manolo, which — by the way — one of the girls here caught up wonder- 
 fully, and in almost an instant too. But the Manolo, with a long sweep- 
 ing flounced and furbelowed petticoat ! Only think of the absurdity. 
 
50^ ROLAIO) CASHEL. 
 
 Not but she looked exceedingly pretty the while, but how much better 
 had she, if one could only have cut half a yard off her drapery ! 
 
 " Have you received the pistols I sent from London ? I hope you'll 
 think them handsome — I know they are true, having tried them at 
 thirty-five, and even fifty paces. The yataghan I'm certain you'll 
 admire, it has the peculiar handle and hilt you're fond of. Pray let our 
 friends on the Chilian side learn something of the qualities of the blade 
 itself. I have been thinking since about the emeralds — and, perhaps, 
 Maritana may refuse them. If so, do what you will with them so that I 
 hear no more of the matter. And now for the bond ; — release from 
 me that tie by all means. It is not that I really feel it in the light of 
 a contract — Maritaiia never did — but I have it ever on my mind like a 
 debt. I give you full powers, draw upon me for the sum you please, 
 and I promise not to dishonour the check. Pedro likes a good bargain, 
 and don't baulk him ! 
 
 " I don't know what your own views are in that quarter, but I tell 
 you frankly that Maritaiia has higher and bolder aspirations than either 
 you or I were likely to aid her in attaining. She is a proud girl, 
 Enrique, and will never care for any man that is not able and willing to 
 elevate her into a very different sphere from that she moves in. I never 
 actually loved her — I certainly do not do so now — and yet I cannot get 
 her out of my head. 
 
 " Before I forget it, let me ask you to pay Ruy Dias two hundred 
 doubloons for me. The horse I killed was not worth forty, but these 
 are not times for bargaining, and the fellow didn't want to part with 
 the beast. Alconetti — the Italian in the Plaza— has something against 
 me, pay it too ; and now that I am on the subject of debts, whenever 
 you next cruise off Ventillanos, send a party on shore to catch the Dean, 
 and give him four-and-twenty with a rope's-end ; say it is from me, he'll 
 know why, and so shall you, when you inform me that it has been 
 cleverly effe6ted. 
 
 " Above all, my dear boy, write ; I so long to hear about you all, and 
 to know all that has happened since I left you. Send the old trunks 
 with my uniform to the agents in the Havannah ; I'd like to see them 
 once more. Francois may keep any thing else of mine, except what 
 you would like to select as a ' souvenir.' Don't let Rica write to me, 
 I feel I should have no chance in a correspondence with him ; nor need 
 I have any, because whatever you say, I agree to — remember that. 
 
 " If you can manage about the emeralds, it would be the most gra- 
 tifying news to me. You might tell her that we are so certain of never 
 meeting again, and that all is now over for ever, and so on. — It would 
 have an air of unkindness to reject them. Besides, I see no reason why 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 5T 
 
 she should ! No matter ; I needn't multiply reasons, where if one 
 
 will not suffice, a thousand must fail, and the chances are if she suspect" 
 
 my anxiety on the subject, it will decide her against me. Do it, then, 
 
 all in your own way. 
 
 " Have I said all I wanted ? Heaven knows, my head is full ; my 
 
 heart, too, is not without its load. I wish you were here. I wish it 
 
 for many reasons. I already begin to suspect you are right about the 
 
 sudden effect a spring into wealth may produce, but I hope that all you 
 
 said on that score may not be true. If I thought so I'd — no matter, I'll 
 
 endeavour to show that you are unjust, and that is better. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Roland Cashel. 
 
 " Don Enrique da Cordova, 
 
 Lieutenant of the Columbian frigate Esmeralda. 
 Care of Messrs. Eustache et Le Moine, merchants, Havannah.'* 
 
 The next epistle which followed was far more brief. It was thus : — 
 
 " Messrs. Vanderhaeghen und Droek, Antwerp. 
 
 " Enclosed is an order on Hamerton for seventeen thousand four 
 hundred and forty-eight gulden, principal and interest for three years, 
 of an unjust demand made by you on me before the tribunal of Bruges* 
 
 " You failed, even with all the aid of your knavish laws and more 
 knavish countrymen, to establish this iniquitous claim ; and only sue - 
 Deeded in exhibiting yourselves as rogues and swindlers, good burgher- 
 like qualities in your commercial city. 
 
 *' I have now paid what I never owed, but there still remains between 
 us an unsettled score. Let my present punctuality guarantee the 
 honourable intentions I entertain of settling it one day, till when, as 
 you have shown yourselves my enemy, 
 
 " Believe me to be, yours, 
 
 " Roland Cashel.'* 
 
 The order on the Banker ran as follows : — 
 
 *' Pay to Vanderhaeghen und Droek, two of the greatest knaves alive, 
 seventeen thousand four hundred and forty-eight gulden, being the 
 principal and interest for three years of a dishonest claim made upon 
 
 " Roland Cashel. 
 
 *' To Hamerton and Co., Cheapside." 
 
 "With all that soothing consciousness, we hear is the result of good 
 
 E 2 
 
52 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 actions, Cashel lay down on his bed immediately on concluding this last 
 epistle, and was fast asleep almost before the superscription was dried. 
 
 And now, worthy reader, another peep and we have done» Ascend- 
 ing cautiously the stairs, you pass through a little conservatory ; at the 
 end of which a heavy cloth curtain conceals a door. It is that of a 
 dressing-room — off which, at opposite sides, two bed-rooms lie. This 
 same dressing-room, with its rose-coloured curtains and ottoman, its 
 little toilet-tables of satin-wood, its mirrors framed in alabaster, its cabi- 
 nets of Buhl, and the book-shelves so coquettishly curtained with Malines 
 lace, is the common property of the two sisters whom we so lately intro- 
 duced to your notice. 
 
 There were they wont to sit for hours after the return from a ball, 
 discussing the people they had met, their dress, their manner, their 
 foibles and flirtations ; criticising, with no mean acuteness, all the varied 
 games of match-making mammas and intriguing aunts, and canvassing 
 the schemes and snares so rife around them. And, oh, ye simple wor- 
 shi23pers of muslin-robed innocence ! Oh, ye devoted slaves of ringletted 
 loveliness and blooming freshness! Bethink ye what wily projects lie 
 crouching in hearts that would seem the very homes of careless happi- 
 ness — what calculations — what devices — how many subtleties that only 
 beauty wields or simple man is vanquished by ! 
 
 It was considerably past midnight as the two girls sat at the fire, 
 their dressing-gowns and slippered feet showing that they had prepared 
 for bed ; but the long luxuriant hair, as yet uncurled, flowed in heavy 
 masses on their neck and shoulders. They did not, as usual, converse 
 freely together ; a silence and a kind of constraint sat upon each, and al- 
 though Olivia held a book before her, it was less for the purpose of reading 
 than as a screen against the fire, while her sister sat with folded arms 
 and gently drooping head, apparently lost in thought. It was after a 
 very lengthened silence, and in a voice which showed that the speaker 
 was following up some train of thought. Miss Kennyfeck said, 
 
 " And do you really think him handsome, Olivia ?" 
 
 " Of whom are you speaking, dear ?" said Olivia, with the very 
 softest accent. 
 
 Miss Kennyfeck started, her pale cheeks became shghtly red, as, 
 with a most keen irony, she replied ; " Could you not guess ? Can I 
 mean any one but Mr. Clare Jones ?" 
 
 " Oh, he's a downright fright," answered the other ; " but what eould 
 have made you think of him ?" 
 
 " I was not thinking of him, nor were you either, sister dear," said 
 Miss Kennyfeck, fixing her eyes full upon her ; " we were both thinking 
 of the same person ; come what use in such subterfuges ; honesty, Livy, 
 
The Two Sis 
 
 tei's 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 53 
 
 may not be the ' best policy,' but it has one great advantage, it saves a 
 deal of time ; and so I repeat my question, do you think him handsome ?" 
 
 " If you mean Mr. Cashel, dearest," said the younger, half bashfully; 
 " I rather incline to say he is. His eyes are very good ; his forehead 
 and brow " 
 
 " There — no inventory, I beg — the man is very well looking, I dare 
 say ; but I own he strikes me as * tant soit pent sauvagej Don't you 
 think so ?" 
 
 " True, his manners " 
 
 '• Why he has none ; the man has a certain rakish free and easy de- 
 meanour, that, with somewhat more breeding, would rise as high as 
 *tigerism,' but now is detestable vulgarity." 
 
 " Oh, dearest, you are severe." 
 
 " I rather suspect that you are partial." 
 
 " I, my dear ! not I, in the least. He is not, by any means, the style 
 of person I like. He can be very amusing, perhaps; he certainly is 
 very odd — very original." 
 
 " He is very rich, Livy," said the elder sister, with a most dry 
 gravity. 
 
 " That can scarcely be called a fault, still less a misfortune," replied 
 Olivia, slily. 
 
 " Well, well, let us have done with aphorisms, and speak openly. If 
 you are really pleased with his manner and address, say so at once, and 
 I'll promise never to criticise too closely a demeanour which, I vow, does 
 not impress me highly — only be candid." 
 
 " But I do not see any occasion for such candour, my dear. He is no 
 more to me than he is to you. I ask no protestations from you. about 
 this Mr. Roland Cashel." 
 
 Miss Kennyfeck bit her lip and seemed to repress a rising temptation 
 to reply, but was silent for a moment when she said in a careless easy 
 tone, 
 
 " Do you knov/ Livy, dearest, that this same Manolo you danced this 
 evening is not by any means a graceful performance to look at, at least 
 when danced with long sweeping drapery, flapping here and flouncing* 
 there. It may suit those half-dressed Mexican damsels who want to 
 display a high arched instep, and a rounded ancle, and who know that 
 thev are not transgressing the ordinary limits of decorum in the display ; 
 but certainly your friend Mr. Softly did not accord all his ajjproval. 
 Did you remark him ?" 
 
 " I did not ; I was too much engaged in learning the figure ; but Mr. 
 Softly disapproves of all dancing." 
 
 " Oh, I know he does," yawned Miss Kennyfeck, as if the very mention 
 
54 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 of his name suggested sleep, " the dear man has his own notions of 
 pleasantry — little holy jokes about Adam and Eve. There is nothing 
 so intolerable to rae as the insipid playfuhiess of your young parson, 
 except, perhaps, the coarse fun of your rising barrister. How I hate Mr, 
 Clare Jones." 
 
 "He is very under bred." 
 
 " He is worse — the rudest person I ever met — so familiar." 
 
 " Why will he always insist on shaking hands ?" 
 
 " Why will he not at least wash his own, occasionally ?" 
 
 " And then his jests from the Queen's Bench — the last mot — I'm sure 
 I often wished it were so literally, of some stupid Chief Justice. Well, 
 really, in comparison, your savage friend is a mirror of good looks and 
 good manners." 
 
 " Good night, my dear," said Olivia rising, as though to decline a 
 renewal of the combat. 
 
 '* Good night,'' echoed her sister, bluntly, '* and pleasant dreams of 
 * Roland the brave — Roland the true ;' the latter quality being the one 
 more in request at this moment," and so humming the well-known 
 air, she took her candle, and retired. 
 
 CHAPTER VHI. 
 
 Ay ! marry — they have wiles 
 
 Compared to which, our schemes are honesty ! 
 
 The " Lawyer's Daughter." 
 
 Notwithstanding all that we hear said against castle-building, how 
 few among the unbought pleasures of life, are so amusing, nor are we 
 certain that these shadowy speculations — these " white lies" that we tell 
 to our own conscience — are not so many incentives to noble deeds and 
 generous actions. These " imaginary conversations" lift us out of the jog- 
 trot path of daily intercourse, and call up hopes and aspirations that lie 
 buried under the heavy load of wearisome common places of which life 
 is made up, and thus permit a man immersed as he may be in the 
 fatigues of a profession, or a counting-house, harassed by law, or 
 worried by the Three Per Cents, to be a hero to his own heart, at least, 
 for a few minutes once a week. 
 
 But if " Castle-building" be so pleasurable when a mere visionary scheme, 
 what is it when it comes associated with all the necessary conditions for 
 
KOIAND CASHEL. 55 
 
 accomplishment — when not alone the plan and elevation of the edifice 
 are there, but all the materials and every appliance to realise the 
 conception ? 
 
 Just fancy yourself " two or three and twenty," waking out of a 
 sound and dreamless sleep, to see the mellow sun of an autumnal morn- 
 ing straining its rays through the curtains of your bed-room. Conceive 
 the short and easy struggle by which, banishing all load of cares and 
 duties in which you were once immersed, you spring, as by a bound, to 
 the joyous fact that you are the owner of a princely fortune, with health 
 and ardent spirit, a temper capable of, nay, eager for engagement, a 
 fearless courage, and a heart unchilled. Think of this, and say, is not 
 the first-waking half hour of such thoughts the brightest spot of a 
 whole existence ? 
 
 Such was the frame of mind in which our hero awoke, and lay for 
 some time to revel in ! We could not, if we would, follow the complex 
 tissue of day-dreams that wandered over every clime, and in the luxu- 
 rious rapture of power, created scenes of pleasure, of ingredients the 
 most far-fetched and remote. The " actual," demands our attention more 
 urgently than the "ideal," so that we are constrained to follow the un- 
 poetical steps of so ignoble a personage as Mr. Phillis — Cashel's new 
 valet — who now broke in upon his master's reveries, as he entered with 
 hot water, and the morning papers. 
 
 " What have you got there ?" cried Cashel, not altogether pleased at 
 the intrusion. 
 
 " The morning papers! Lord Ettlecombe — " his former master, and his 
 universal type, <* always read the PosL Sir, before he got out of bed.'* 
 
 " Well, let me see it," said Cashel, who, already impressed with the 
 necessity of conforming to a new code, was satisfied to take the law even 
 from so humble an authority, as his own man. 
 
 " Yes, Sir. Our arrival is announced very handsomely among the 
 fashionable intelligence, and the JDublhi Mail has copied the paragraph 
 stating that w^e are speedily about to visit our Irish estates." 
 
 " Ah, indeed," said Cashel, somewhat flattered at his new-born noto- 
 riety, " where is all this ?" 
 
 " Here,- Sir, under * movements in high life' — ' the Duke of Uxoter to 
 Lord Debbington's beautiful villa at Maulish — Sir Harry and Lady 
 Emeline Morpas, &c., — Rosenorris — Lord Fetcherton — ' No, here we 
 have it. Sir — * Mr. Roland Cashel and suite.' Kennyfeck and self, Sir, 
 ^frorn Mivarts', for Ireland. We understand that this millionaire t^vo- 
 prietor is now about to visit his estates in this country, preparatory to 
 taking up a residence finally amongst us. If report speak truly, he 
 
 ,-^-\ 
 
56 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 is as accomplished as wealthy, and will be a very welcome accession to 
 the ranks of our country gentry.' '' 
 
 " How strange that these worthy people should affect to know or care 
 any thing about me or my future intentions," said Cashel, innocently. 
 
 " Oh, Sir, they really know nothing — that Uttle thing is mine." 
 
 " Yours ! how yours ?" 
 
 " Why, I wrote it, Sir. When I lived with Sir Giles Heathcote : we 
 always fired off a certain number of these signal-guns when we came to 
 a new place. Once the thing was set a-going, the newspaper fellows 
 followed up the lead themselves. They look upon a well-known name 
 as of the same value as a fire, or a case of larceny. I have known a 
 case of seduction by a marquis to take the ' pas' of the last murder in 
 the Edgeware Road." 
 
 " I have no fancy for this species of publicity," said Cashel, seriously. 
 
 " Believe me, Sir, there is nothing to be done without it. The press, 
 Sir, is the fourth estate. They can ignore any thing now-a days, from a 
 speech in Parliament to the last new novel, — from the young beauty just 
 come out to the newly-launched line-of-battle-ship. A friend of mine 
 sometime back, tried the thing to his cost, Sir. He invented an ad- 
 mirable moustache-paste, he even paid a guinea to an Oxford man for 
 a Greek name for it ; well. Sir, he would not advertise in the dallys, but 
 only in bills. Mark the consequence. One of tlie morning journals in 
 announcing the arrival of the Prince of Koemundkuttingen on a visit to 
 Colonel Sibthorp, mentioned, that in the fraternal embrace of these two 
 distinguished personages, their moustaches, anointed with the new patent 
 adhesive Eukantherostickostecon, became actually so fastened together 
 (as the fellow said, like two clothes-brushes) that after a quarter of an 
 hour's vain struggle, they had to be cut asunder. From that moment. 
 Sir, the paste was done up, he sold it as harness stuff, the week after, and 
 left the hair and beard line altogether." 
 
 As Cashel's dressing proceeded, Mr. Phillis continued to impose upon 
 him those various hints and suggestions respecting costume, for wiiich that 
 accomplished gentleman's gentleman was renowned. 
 
 " Excuse me, but you are not going to wear that coat, I hope. A 
 morning dress should always incline to what artists call * neutral tints ;' 
 there should also be nothing striking, nothing that would particularly 
 catch the eye, except in those peculiar .cases, where the wearer, adopting 
 a certain colour, not usually seen, adheres strictly to it, just as we see my 
 Lord Blenneville with his old coffee coloured cut-away, and Sir Francis 
 Heming with his light-blue frock ; Colonel Mordaunt's Hessians are 
 the same kind of thing." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 57 
 
 " This is all mere trifling," said Cashel, impatiently, " I don't intend 
 to dress like the show figure in a tailor's shop, to be stared at." 
 
 " Exactly so. Sir, that is what I have been saying, any notoriety is to 
 be avoided, where a gentlemen has a real position. Now, with a dark 
 frock, grey trousers, and this plain, single-breasted vest, your costume is 
 correct." 
 
 If Cashel appeared to submit to these dictations with impatience, he, 
 really, received them as laws to which he was, in virtue of his station, to 
 be bound. He had taken Mr. Phillis, exactly as he had engaged the ser- 
 vices of a celebrated French cook, as a person to whom a '' department" 
 was to be intrusted, and feeling that he was about to enter on a world 
 whose habits of thinking and prejudices were all strange, he resolved to 
 accept of guidance, with the implicitness that he would have shown in 
 taking a pilot to navigate him through a newly visited channel. Between 
 this sense of submission, and a certain feeling of shame at the mock im- 
 portance of these considerations, Cashel exhibited many symptoms of im- 
 patience, as Mr. Phillis continued his revelations on dress, and was sincerely 
 happy, when that refined individual, having slowly surveyed him, pro- 
 nounced a faint " Yes, very near it," and withdrew. 
 
 There was a half glimmering suspicion, like a struggling ray of sun- 
 light stealing through a torn and ragged cloud, breaking on Roland's 
 mind, that if wealth were to entail a great many requirements, no 
 matter how small each, of obedience to the world's prescription, that he, 
 for one, would prefer his untrammelled freedom to any amount of riches. 
 This, was but a fleeting doubt, which he had no time to dwell upon, for 
 already he was informed by the butler that Mrs. Kennyfeck was waiting 
 breakfast for him. 
 
 Descending the stairs rapidly, he had just reached the landing oppo- 
 site the drawing-room, when he heard the sounds of a guitar accompani- 
 ment, and the sweet silvery tones of a female voice. He listened, and 
 to his amazement heard that the singer was endeavouring, and with con- 
 siderable success, too, to remember his own Mexican air, that he had 
 sung the preceding evening. 
 
 Somehow, it struck him, he had never thought the melody so pretty 
 before ; there was a tenderness in the plaintive parts he could not have 
 conceived. Not so the singer, for after a few efforts to imitate one of 
 Roland's bolder passages, she drew her finger impatiently across the 
 chords and exclaimed, '•' it is of no use, it is only the Caballero himself 
 can do it." 
 
 " Let him teach you, then !" cried Cashel, as he sprung into the room, 
 wild with delight. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Cashel, what a start you've given me !" said Olivia Kenny- 
 
58 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 feck, as, covered with blushes, and trembling -with agitation, she leaned 
 on the back of a chair. 
 
 " Oh, pray forgive me," said he, eagerly, " but I was so surprised, so 
 delighted to hear you recalling that little song ; I really forgot every 
 thing else. Have I startled you, then ?" 
 
 " Oh, no ; it*s nothing. I was trying a few chords. I thought I 
 was quite alone." 
 
 " But you'll permit me to teach you some of our Mexican songs, won't 
 you ? I should be so charmed to hear them sung as you could sing them." 
 
 " It is too kind of you," said she, timidly ; " but I am no musician. 
 My sister is a most skilful performer ; but / really know nothing — a 
 simple ballad — and a canzonette — are the extent of my efforts." 
 
 " For our Prairie songs, it is the feeling supplies all the character. 
 They are wild, fanciful things, with no higher pretensions than to recall 
 some trait of the land they belong to, and I should be so flattered if 
 you would take an interest in the Far West." 
 
 " How you must love it I How you must long to return to it!" said 
 Olivia, raising her long drooping lashes, and letting her eyes rest, with 
 an expression of tender melancholy on Cashel. 
 
 What he might have said there is no guessing, — nay, for his sake, 
 and for hers too, it is better not even to speculate on it ; but ere he 
 could reply, another speaker joined in the colloquy, saying — 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Cashel. Pray don't forget, when the lesson is 
 over, that we are waiting breakfast." So saying, and with a laugh of 
 saucy raillery, Miss Kennyfeck passed down the stairs, not remaining 
 to hear his answer. 
 
 **0h, Mr. Cashel," exclaimed Olivia, with a tone half reproachful^ 
 half shy, "we shall be scolded,— at least, I shall," added she. "It is 
 the unforgivable offence in this house to be late at breakfast." 
 
 Cashel would very willingly have risked all the consequences of delay 
 for a few minutes longer of their interview, but already she had tripped 
 on down stairs, and with such speed as to enter the breakfast-parlour a 
 few seconds before him. Roland was welcomed by the family without 
 the slightest shade of dissatisfaction at his late appearance. Cordial 
 greetings, and friendly inquiries as to how he had rested, pouring in on 
 every side. 
 
 ** What's to be done with Mr. Cashel to-day ? I hope he is not to 
 be teased by business people and red-tapery," said Mrs. Kennyfeck to 
 her husband. 
 
 " I am afraid," said the silky attorney — " I am very much afraid, I 
 must trespass on his kindness to accompany me to the master's office. 
 There are some little matters which will not wait." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 59 
 
 "Oh, they must," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, peremptorily. "Who is the 
 Master — Liddard — isn't it ? Well, tell him to put it off : Mr. Cashel 
 must really have a little peace and quietness after all his fatigues." 
 
 " It will only take an hour at most, Mrs. Kennyfeck," remonstrated 
 her submissive mate. 
 
 " Well, that is nothing," cried Cashel. " I'm not in the least tired, 
 and the day is long enough for every thing." 
 
 " Then we have a little affair which we can manage at home here, 
 about the mortgages. I told you — ** 
 
 " I believe you did," replied Cashel, laughing ; " but I don't remem- 
 ber a word of it. It's about paying some money, isn't it ?" 
 
 " Yes, it's the redemption of two very heavy claims," exclaimed Ken- 
 nyfeck, perfectly shocked at the indifference displayed by the young 
 man, — " claims for which we are paying five and a-half per cent." 
 
 " And it would be better to clear them off ?" said Cashel, assuming a 
 show of interest in the matter he was far from feeling. 
 
 " Of course it would. There is a very large sum laying to your 
 credit at Falkner's, for which you receive only three per cent." 
 
 " Don't you perceive how tiresome you are, dear Mr. Kennyfeck," 
 said his wife. " Mr. Cashel is bored to death with all this.'* 
 
 " Oh, no ! not in the least. Madam. It ought to interest me im- 
 mensely ; and so all these things will, I'm sure ; but I was just thinking 
 at what hour that fellow we met on the packet was to show us those 
 horses he spoke of ?" 
 
 " At four," said Mr. Kennyfeck, with a half sigh of resignation ; 
 " but you'll have ample time for that. I shall only ask you to attend at 
 the judges' chambers after our consultation." 
 
 " Well, you are really intolerable !" cried his wife. " Why cannot 
 you and Jones, and the rest of you, do all this tiresome nonsense, and 
 leave Mr. Cashel to us ? I want to bring him out to visit two or 
 three people ; and the girls have been planning a canter in the park." 
 
 " The canter, by all means," said Cashel. " I'm sure, my dear Mr. 
 Kennyfeck, you'll do every thing far better without me. I have no 
 head for any thing like business ; and so pray, let me accompany the 
 riding party." 
 
 " The attendance at the Master's is peremptory," sighed the attorney ; 
 " there is no deferring that ; and as to the mortgages, the funds are 
 falling every hour. I should seriously advise selling out at once." 
 
 " Well, sell out in Heaven's name. Do all, and any thing you like, 
 and I promise my most unqualified satisfaction at the result." 
 
 " There, now," interposed Mrs. Kennyfeck, authoritatively ; " don't 
 worry any more, you see how tiresome you are '." 
 
60 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 And poor Mr. Kennyfeck seemed to see and feel it, too ; for he hung 
 his head, and sipped his tea in silence. 
 
 " To-day we dine all alone, Mr. Cashel," said Mrs. Kennyfeck; "but 
 to-morrow 1 will try to show you some of the Dublin notorieties ; at least, 
 such as are to be had in the season. On Friday we plan a little country- 
 party into Wicklovv ; and I have promised to keep Saturday free, if the 
 Blackenburgs want us." 
 
 " What shall w^e say, then, about Tubber-beg, Mr. Cashel ?" said 
 Kennyfeck, withdrawing him into a window-recess. " We ought to give 
 the answer at once." 
 
 " Faith I I forget all about it," said Cashel. " Is that the fishery you 
 told me of?" 
 
 " Oh, no !" sighed the disconsolate man of law. " It's the farm on 
 the terminable lease, at present held by Hugh Corrigan ; he asks for a 
 renewal." 
 
 " Well, let him have it," said Cashel, bluntly, while his eyes were 
 turned towards the Kre, where the two sisters, with arms entwined, stood 
 in the most graceful of attitudes. 
 
 " Yes, but have you considered the matter maturely ?" rejoined 
 Kennyfeck, laying his hand on Cashel's arm. " Have you taken into 
 account that he only pays eight and sevenpence per acre — the Irish 
 acre, too ; and that a considerable part of that land adjoining the Boat 
 Quay is let, as building plots, for two and sixpence a foot ?" 
 
 '^ A devilish pretty foot it is, too," murmured Cashel, musingly. 
 
 " Eh ! what !" exclaimed Kennyfeck, perfectly mystified at this 
 response. 
 
 " Oh ! I meant that I agreed with you," rejoined the young man, 
 reddening, and endeavouring to appear deeply interested. " I quite 
 coincide with your views. Sir." 
 
 Kennyfeck seemed surprised at this, for he had not, to his knowledge, 
 ventured on any opinion. 
 
 " Perhaps," said he, taking breath for a last effort, *' if you'd kindly 
 look at the map of the estate, and just see where this farm trenches on 
 your own limits, you could judge better about the propriety of the 
 renewal." 
 
 '*0h, with pleasure!" exclaimed Cashel, while he suffered himself to 
 be led into the study, his face exhibiting very indifferent signs of satis- 
 faction. 
 
 " Shall we assist in the consultation, Mr. Cashel?" said Mrs. Kenny- 
 feck, smiling in reply to his reluctant look at leaving. 
 
 " Oh, by all means 1" cried he, enthusiastically ; " do come, and give 
 me your advice. Pray, come." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 61 
 
 " Come, girls," said the mother, " although I perceive Mr. Kenny- 
 feck is terribly shocked at the bare thought of our intrusion ; but be of 
 good courage, we only accompany Mr. Cashel to save him from any long 
 imprisonment," and so, she moved majestically forward, her daughters 
 following her. 
 
 An alchemist would probably have received company in his laboratory-, 
 or a hermit admitted a jovial party in his cell, with less of constraint 
 and dissatisfaction than did Mr. Kennyfeck watch the approach of his 
 wife and daughters to the sanctum of his study. 
 
 Save at rare intervals, when a disconsolate widow had come to resolve 
 a question of administration, or a no less forlorn damsel had entered 
 to consult upon an action for "breach of promise," St. Kevin himself had 
 never been less exposed to female intervention. It needed then all his 
 reverence and fear of Mrs. Kennyfeck to sustain the shock to his feel- 
 ings, as he saw her seat herself in his office chair, and look around with 
 the air of command that he alone used to exhibit in these regions. 
 
 "Now for this same map, Mr. Kennyfeck, and let us hear the question 
 for which this Privy Council has been convened." 
 
 " This is the map," said Mr. Kennyfeck, unfolding a large scroll, "and 
 I believe a single glance will enable Mr. Cashel to perceive that some 
 little deliberation would be advisable before continuing in possession a 
 tenant whose holding completely destroys the best feature of the 
 demesne. This red line here is your boundary towards the Limerick 
 Road ; here, stands the house, which, from the first was a great mistake. 
 It is built in a hollow without a particle of view, whereas had it been 
 placed here, where this cross is marked, the prospect would have 
 extended over the whole of Scariff Bay, and by the west, down to 
 KiUaloe." 
 
 " Well, what's to prevent our building it there yet ?" interrupted 
 Cashel. " I think it would be rare fun building a house, at least if I 
 may judge from all the amusement I've had in constructing one of leaves 
 and buffalo hides, in the Prairies." 
 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck and her eldest daughter smiled their blandest 
 approbation, while Olivia murmured in her sister's ear. " Oh dear, he 
 is so very natural, isn't he ?" 
 
 " That will be a point for ulterior consideration," said Mr. Kennyfeck, 
 who saw the danger of at all wandering from the topic in hand. " Give 
 me your attention now for one moment, Mr. Cashel. Another inconveni- 
 ence in the situation of the present house is, that it stands scarcely a thou- 
 sand yards from this red and yellow line here." 
 
 " Well, what is that ?" inquired Cashel, who already began to feel 
 interested in the localities. 
 
62 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " This — and pray observe it well, Sir — this red and yellow line, 
 enclosing a tract, which borders on the Shannon, and runs, as you may 
 remark, into the very heart of the demesne, this is Tubber-beg, the farm 
 in question ; not only encroaching upon your limits, but actually cutting 
 you off from the river, at least, your access is limited to a very circuit- 
 ous road, and which opens upon a very shallow part of the stream." 
 
 " And who or what is this tenant ?'* asked Cashel. 
 
 " His name is Corrigan, a gentleman by birth, but of a very limited 
 fortune; he is now an old man, upwards of seventy, 1 understand." 
 
 " And how came it that he ever obtained possession of a tract so 
 circumstanced, marring, as you most justly observe, the whole character 
 of the demesne." 
 
 " That would be a long story, Sir — enough, if I mention that his 
 ancestors were the ancient owners of the entire estate, which was 
 lost by an act of confiscation in the year forty-five; some extenuating 
 circumstance, however, induced the government to confer upon a 
 younger branch of the family a lease of this small tract called Tubber- 
 beg, to distinguish it from Tubber-more, the larger portion, and this 
 lease it is whose expiration, in a few years, induces the present quere." 
 
 *' Has Mr. Corrigan children ?" 
 
 " No ; his only child, a daughter, is dead, but a grand- daughter lives 
 now with the old man." 
 
 " Then what is it he asks ? Is it a renewal of the lease, on the former 
 terms ?" 
 
 " Why not precisely. I believe he would be willing to pay more." 
 
 " That's not what I mean," replied Cashel, reddening, *' I ask what 
 terms as to time, he seeks for. Would it content him to have the land 
 for his own life ?" 
 
 " Mr. Kennyfeck, you are really very culpable to leave Mr. Cashel 
 to the decision of matters of this kind — matters in which his kindliness of 
 heart and inexperience will always betray him into a forgetfulness of his 
 own interest. What has Mr. Cashel to think about this old creature's 
 ancestors, who were rebels it appears, or his daughter, or his grand- 
 daughter ; here is a simple question of a farm, which actually makes 
 the demesne worthless, and which by a singular piece of good fortune 
 is in Mr. Cashel's power to secure." 
 
 "That is a very correct view, doubtless," said her meek husband, sub- 
 missively, " but we should also remember — " 
 
 "We have nothing to remember," interrupted Mrs. Kennyfeck, 
 stoutly ; " nothing, save his interests, who, as I have observed, is of 
 too generous a nature to be trusted with such matters." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 63 
 
 " Is there no other farm — have we nothing on the property he'd like 
 as well as this ?" asked Cashel. 
 
 " I fear not. The attachment to a place inhabited for centuries by 
 his ancestry — " 
 
 " By his fiddle-stick," struck in Mrs. Kennyfeck ; " two and sixpence 
 an acre difference would be all the necessary compensation. Mr. 
 Kennyfeck, how can you trifle in this manner, when you see how it will 
 injure the demesne ?" 
 
 *' Oh, ruin it utterly !" exclaimed Miss Kennyfeck. 
 
 " It completely cuts off the beautiful river and those dear islands," 
 said Olivia. 
 
 " So it does," said Cashel, musing. 
 
 " I wonder are they wooded ? I declare I believe they are. Papa, 
 are these little scrubby things meant to represent trees ?" 
 
 " Oaks and chestnut-trees," responded Mr. Kennyfeck, gravely. 
 
 " Oh how I should love a cottage on that island — a real Swiss 
 cottage, with its carved galleries, and deep eved-roof. Who owns 
 these delicious islands ?" 
 
 " Mr. Cashel, my dear," said papa, still bent on examining the map. 
 
 " Do I, indeed !" cried Roland, in an ecstacy ; " then you shall have 
 your wish, Miss Kennyfeck. I promise you the prettiest Swiss cottage 
 that your own taste can devise." 
 
 " Oh dear, oh pray forgive me." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Roland Cashel, don't think of such a thing ! Olivia was 
 merely speaking at random. How silly, child, you are to talk that 
 way." 
 
 " Really, mamma, I had not the slightest suspicion — I wouldn't for 
 the world have said any thing if I thought — " 
 
 " Of course not, dear, but pray be guarded. Indeed, I own I never 
 did hear you make a lapse of the kind before ; but you see, Mr. 
 Cashel, you have really made us forget that we were strangers but yes- 
 terday, and you are paying the penalty of your own exceeding kind- 
 ness. Forget, then, I beseech you, this first transgression." 
 
 " I shall assuredly keep my promise. Madam," said Cashel, proudly ; 
 *' and I have only to hope Miss Kennyfeck will not offend me by de- 
 clining so very humble a present. Now, Sir, for our worthy friend Mr. 
 Corrigan." 
 
 "Too fast, a great deal too fast, love," whispered the elder sister in 
 the ear of the younger, and who, to the credit of her tact and ingenuity, 
 be it spoken, only gave the most heavenly smile in reply. 
 
 " I really am puzzled. Sir, what advice to give," said the attorney, 
 musing. 
 
64 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " I have no diflficulties of this sentimental kind,'* said Mrs. Kennyfeck, 
 with a glance of profound depreciation towards her husband ; *' and I 
 beg Mr. Cashel to remember, that the opportunity now offered will 
 possibly never occur again. If the old man is to retain his farm, of 
 course Mr. Cashel would not think of building a new mansion, which 
 must be ill circumstanced, from what I can hear of the present house. 
 It is equally certain that he would not reside in that." 
 
 " Is it so very bad ?" asked Cashel, smiling. 
 
 " It was ill planned originally, added to in, if possible, worse 
 taste, and then suffered to fall into ruin. It is now something more 
 than eighty years since it saw any other inhabitant than a care taker." 
 
 " Well, the picture is certainly not seductive. I rather opine, that 
 the best thing we can do, is to throw this old rumbling concern down, at 
 all events ; and now once more — what shall we do with Mr. Corrigan ?" 
 
 " I should advise you not giving any reply before you visit the pro- 
 perty yourself. All business matters will be completed here, I trust, 
 by Saturday. What, then, if we go over on Monday to Tubber- 
 more ?"' 
 
 ** Agreed. I have a kind of anxiety to look at the place ; indeed, a 
 mere glance would decide me if I ever care to return to it again." 
 
 *'Then, I perceive, our counsel is of no avail here," said Mrs. Kenny- 
 feck, rising, with a very ill-concealed chagrin. 
 
 " Nay, Madam, don't say so. You never got so far as to give It," 
 cried Cashel. 
 
 " Oh, yes, you forget that I said it would be absurd to hesitate about 
 resuming possession." 
 
 " Unquestionably," echoed Miss Kennyfeck. " It is merely to indulge 
 an old man's caprice at the cost of your own comfort and convenience." 
 
 '• But he may cling to the spot, sister dear," said Olivia, in an accent 
 only loud enough to be audible by Cashel. 
 
 " You are right," said Roland in her ear, with a look that spoke his 
 approval far more eloquently. 
 
 Although Miss Kennyfeck had heard nothing that passed, her quick- 
 ness detected the looks of intelligence that were so speedily interchanged, 
 and as she left the room, she took occasion to whisper, " Do take advice, 
 dear ; there is no keeping up a pace like that." 
 
ROLAlfD CASHEL. 65 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Bravo, Toro ! 
 
 As it chanced that many of Mr. Kennyfeck's cUents were western 
 gentlemen, whose tastes have an unequivocal tendency to all matters re- 
 lating to horse-flesh, his stable was not less choicely furnished than his 
 cellar; for, besides being always able to command the shrewdest judg- 
 ments when he decided to make a purchase ; many an outstanding 
 balance of long duration ; many a debt, significantly pencilled "doubtful" 
 or "bad," in his note-book, was cleared off by some tall, sinewy steeple- 
 chaser from Galway, or some redoubted performer with the " Blazers." 
 
 So well known was this fact, that several needed no other standard of 
 a neighbour's circumstances, than whether he had contributed or not to 
 the Keunyfeck stud. This brief explanation we have been induced to 
 make, to account for the sporting character of a stable whose proprietor 
 never was once seen in the saddle. Far otherwise the ladies of the 
 house ; the mother and daughters, but in particular the elder, rode with 
 all the native grace of Galway ; and as they were invariably well 
 mounted, and their grooms the smartest and best appointed, their 
 " turn-out" was the admiration of the Capital. 
 
 It was in vain that the English officials at the Castle, whose superla- 
 tive tastes were w^ont to overshadow mere Irish pretension, endeavoured 
 to compete with these noted equestrians. Secretaries' wives and cham- 
 berlains' daughters, how^ever they might domineer in other matters, 
 were here, at least, surpassed, and it was a conceded fact, that the Ken- 
 ny fecks rode better, dressed better, and looked better on horseback, than 
 any other girls in the country. If all the critics as to horsemanship 
 pronounced the elder unequivocally the superior rider, mere admirers of 
 gracefulness preferred the younger sister, who, less courageous and self- 
 possessed, invested her skill with a certain character of timidity that 
 increased the interest her appearance excited. 
 
 They never rode out without an immense cortege of followers, every 
 well-looking and well-mounted man about town deeming it his devoir to 
 join this party, just as the box of the reigning belle at the Opera is be- 
 sieged by assiduous visitors. The very being seen in this train was a 
 kind of brevet-promotion in fashionable esteem, to which each newly- 
 arrived cornet aspired, and thus the party usually presented a group of 
 
66 ' EOLAKD CASHEL. 
 
 biilliant uniforms and dancing plumes, that livalled in brilliancy, and 
 far excelled in amusement, the staff of the Viceroy himself. 
 
 It would be unfair to suppose, that, with all their natural innocence 
 and artlessness, they were entirely ignorant of the sway they thus exer- 
 cised ; indeed, such a degree of modesty would have trenched upon the 
 incredulous, for how could they doubt what commanders of the forces 
 and deputy assistant adjutants assured them, still less question the vera- 
 city of a prince royal, who positively asserted that they " rode better 
 than Quentin's daughter." 
 
 It was thus a source of no small excitement among the mounted 
 loungers of the capital, when the Kennyfecks issued forth on horseback, 
 and not, as usual, making the tour of the " Square" to collect their forces, 
 they rode at once down Grafton Street, accompanied by a single 
 cavalier. 
 
 " Who have the Kennyfeck girls got with them ?" said a thin-waisted 
 looking aide-de-camp to a lanky well-whiskered fellow in a dragoon 
 undress, at the Castle Gate. 
 
 " He is new to me — never saw him before. — I say, Lucas, w^ho is that 
 tall fellow on Kenny feck's brown horse — do you know him?" 
 
 " Don't know, can't say," drawled out a very diminutive hussar 
 cornet. 
 
 " He has a look of Merrlngton," said another, joining the party. 
 
 *' Not a bit of it, he's much larger. I shouldn't wonder, if he's one of 
 the Esterhazys, they've caught. There is one of them over here — a Paul 
 or a Nicholas, of the younger branch ; — but here's Linton, he'll tell us, if 
 any man can." 
 
 This speech was addressed to a very dapper, well-dressed man of about 
 thirty, mounted on a small thorough-bred pony, whose splashed and 
 heaving flanks bespoke aliasty ride. 
 
 "I say, Tom, you met the Kennyfecks, who was that with them ?" 
 
 " Don't you know him, my Lord?" said a sharp ringing voice, " that's 
 our newly arrived millionaire — Roland Cashel, our Tipperary Croesus; — 
 the man with I won't say how many hundred thousands a-year, and 
 millions in bank besides." 
 
 " The devil it is — a good-looking fellow, too." 
 
 " Spooney, I should say," drawled out the hussar, caressing his 
 moustache. 
 
 " One needn't be as smart a fellow as you, Wheeler, with forty thou* 
 sand a-year," said Linton with a sly glance at the others. 
 
 *• You don't suppose, Tom," said the former speaker, " that the Kenny- 
 fecks have any designs in that quarter — egad I that would be rather 
 aspiring, eh?" 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 67 
 
 " Very unwise in us to permit it, my Lord," said Linton, in a low 
 tone. *' That's a dish will bear carving, and let every one have his 
 share." 
 
 My Lord laughed with a low cunning laugh at the suggestion, and 
 nodded an easy assent. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Kennyfecks rode slowly on, and crossing Essex Bridge, 
 continued their way at a foot pace towards the Park, passing in front of 
 the Four Courts, where a very large knot of idlers uncovered their 
 heads in polite salutation as they went. 
 
 " That's Kennyfeck's newly discovered client," cried one, " a great 
 card, if they can only secure him for one of the girls." 
 
 " I say, did you remark how the eldest had him engaged, she never 
 noticed any of us ?" 
 
 " I back Olivia," said another, *' she's a quiet one, but devilish sly for 
 all that." 
 
 " Depend upon it," interposed an older speaker, *' the fellow is up to 
 all that sort of thing." 
 
 " Jones met him at dinner yesterday at Kennyfeck's, and says he is a 
 regular soft one, and if the girls don't run an opposition to each other, 
 one is sure to win." 
 
 " Why not toss up for him, then, that would be fairer." 
 
 '* Ay, and more sisterly, too," said the elder speaker. *' Jones would 
 be right glad to claim the beaten horse." 
 
 *' Jones, indeed—I can tell you they detest Jones," said a young 
 fellow. 
 
 " They told you so, eh, Hammond ?" said another, while a very 
 hearty laugh at the discomfited youth broke from the remainder. 
 
 And now to follow our mounted fi-iends, who, having reached the 
 Park, continued still at a walking pace, to thread the grassy paths, that 
 led through that pleasant tract ; now,liid amid the shade of ancient thorn 
 trees, now, gaining the open expanse of plain, with its bold back-ground 
 of blue mountains. 
 
 From the evident attention bestowed by the two sisters, it was clear 
 that Cashel was narrating something of interest, for he spoke of an 
 event which had happened to himself in his prairie life ; and this alone, 
 independent of all else, was enough to make the theme amusing. 
 
 " Does this convey any idea of a Prairie, Mr. Cashel ?" said Miss 
 Kennyfeck, as they emerged from a grove of beech trees and came upon 
 the wide and stretching plain, so well known to Dubliners as the Fifteen 
 Acres, but which is, in reality, much greater in extent. "I have always 
 fancied this great grassy expanse must be like a Pi-airie.'* 
 
 f2 
 
68 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " About as like as yonder cattle to a herd of wild buffaloes," replied 
 Roland, smiling. 
 
 " Then what is a Prairie hke ? Do tell us," said Olivia, eagerly. 
 
 " I can scarcely do so, nor if I were a painter do I suppose that I 
 could make a picture of one, because it is less the presence than 
 the total absence of all features of landscape that constitutes the w4ld 
 and lonely solitude of a Prairie. But fancy a great plain — gently — 
 very gently undulating — not a tree, not a shrub, not a stream to break 
 the dreary uniformity — sometimes, but even that rarely, a little muddy 
 pond of rain water, stagnant and yellow, is met with, but only seen soon 
 after heavy showers, for the hot sun rapidly absorbs it. The only vege- 
 tation, a short yellowed burnt up grass — not a wild flower or a daisy, if 
 you travelled hundreds of hundreds of miles. On you go, days and 
 days, but the scene never changes. Large cloud shadows rest upon the 
 barren expanse, and move slowly and sluggishly away, or sometimes a 
 sharp and pelting shower is borne along, traversing hundreds of miles in 
 its course, but these are the only traits of motion in the death-like still- 
 ness. At last, perhaps after weeks of wandering, you descry, a long 
 way off, some dark objects dotting the surface, these are buffaloes ; or, at 
 sunset when the thin atmosphere makes every thing sharp and distinct, 
 some black spectral shapes seem to glide between you and the red twi- 
 light, these are Indian hunters, seen miles off, and by some strange 
 law of nature they are presented to the vision when far, far beyond the 
 range of sight. Such strange apparitions, the consequence of refraction, 
 have led to the most absurd superstitions, and all the stories the Germans 
 tell you of their wild huntsmen are nothing to the tales every trapper can 
 recount of war parties seen in the air, and tribes of red men in pursuit 
 of deer and buffaloes, through the clear sky of an autumn evening." 
 
 " And have you yourself met with these wild children of the desert ?" 
 said Olivia ; " have you ever been amongst them ?" 
 
 " Somewhat longer than I fancied," repUed Roland, smiling. " I was 
 a prisoner once with the Camanches." 
 
 " Oh, let us hear all about it — how did it happen ?" cried both 
 together. 
 
 " It happened absurdly enough, at least you will say so, when I tell 
 you ; but to a Prairie-hunter the adventure would seem nothing singular. 
 It chanced that some years ago I made one of a hunting party into the 
 Rocky Mountains, and finally as far as Pueblo Santo, the last station 
 before entering the hunting-grounds of the Camanches, a very fierce 
 tribe, and one with whom all the American traders have failed to estab- 
 lish any relations of friendship or commerce. They care nothing for the 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 69 
 
 inventions of civilisation, and, unlike all other Indians, prefer their own 
 bows and arrows to fire-arms. 
 
 " We had been now four days within their boundary, and yet never 
 met one of the tribe. Some, averred that they always learned by the 
 scouts whenever any invasion took place, and retired till they were in 
 sufficient force to pour down and crush the intruders. Others, who 
 proved better informed, said that they were hunting in a remote tract, 
 several days' journey distant. We were doubly disappointed, for besides 
 not seeing the Camanches, for which we had a great curiosity, we did 
 not discover any game. The two or three trails we followed led to 
 nothing, nor could a hoof-track be seen for miles and miles of Prairie. 
 In this state of discomfiture, we were sitting one evening around our 
 fires and debating with ourselves whether to turn back or go on, when, 
 the dispute waxing warm between those of different opinions, I, who 
 hated all disagreements of the kind, slipped quietly away, and throw- 
 ing the bridle on my horse, I set out for a solitary ramble over the 
 Prairie. 
 
 "I have the whole scene before me this instant, the solemn deso- 
 lation of that dreary track ! for scarcely had I gone a mile over what 
 seemed a perfectly level plain, when the swelling inequalities of the 
 ground shut out the watch-fires of my companions, and, now, there was 
 nothing to be seen but the vast expanse of land and sky, each coloured 
 with the same dull leaden tint of coming night ; no horizon was visible, 
 not a star appeared, and in the midst of this gray monotony, a stillness 
 prevailed that smote the heart with something more appalling than mere 
 fear. No storm that ever I listened to at sea, not the loudest thunder 
 that ever crashed, or the heaviest sea that ever broke upon a leeward 
 shore at midnight, ever chilled my blood like that terrible stillness. I 
 thought that the dreadful roll of an avalanche, or the heaving ground 
 swell of an earthquake, had been easier to bear. I believe I actually 
 prayed for something like sound to relieve the horrible tension of my 
 nerves, when, just as if my wish was heard, a low booming sound, like 
 the sea within a rocky cavern, came borne along on the night wind. 
 Then it lulled again, and after a time grew louder. This happened two 
 or three times, so that, half suspecting some self-delusion, 1 stopped my 
 ears, and then on removing my hands, I heard the noise increasing till 
 it swelled into one dull roaring sound, that made the very air vibrate. I 
 thought it must be an earthquake, of which it is said many occur in 
 these regions, but, from the dreary uniformity, leave no trace behind. 
 
 " I resolved to regain my companions at once ; danger is always easier 
 to confront in company, and so 1 turned my horse's head to go back. 
 The noise was now deafening, and so stunning that the very ground 
 
70 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 seemed to give It forth. My poor horse became terrified, his flanks 
 heaved, and he laboured in his stride as if overcome by fatigue. This 
 again induced me to suspect an earthquake, for I knew by what singular 
 instincts animals are apprised of Its approach. I, therefore, gave him 
 the spur, and urged him on with every effort, when suddenly he made 
 a tremendous bound to one side, and set off with the speed of a racer. 
 Stretched to his fullest stride, I was perfectly powerless to restrain him ; 
 meanwhile, the loud thundering sounds filled the entire air — more 
 deafening than the greatest artillery; the crashing uproar smote my 
 ears, and made my brain ring with the vibration, and then suddenly the 
 whole plain grew dark behind and at either side of me ; the shadow 
 swept on and on, nearer and nearer, as the sounds increased, till the 
 black surface seemed, as it were, about to close around me ; and now I 
 perceived that the great Prairie, far as my eyes could stretch, was 
 covered by a herd of wild buffaloes : struck by some sudden terror, they 
 had taken what is called 'the Stampedo,' and set out at full speed. In 
 an instant they were around me on every side — a great moving sea of 
 dark-backed monsters, roaring in terrible uproar, and tossing their savage 
 heads wildly to and fro, in all the paroxysm of terror. To return, or 
 even to extricate myself was impossible ; the dense mass pressed like a 
 wall at either side of me, and I w^as borne along in the midst of the 
 heaving herd, without the slightest hope of rescue. I cannot — you 
 would not ask me, if even I could — recall the terrors of that dreadful 
 night, which in its dark hours compassed the agonies of years. Until 
 the moon got up, I hoped that the herd might pass on, and at last leave 
 me at liberty behind ; but when she rose, and I looked back, I saw the 
 dark sea of hides, as If covering the whole wide Prairie, while the deep 
 thunder from afar mingled with the louder bellowing of the herd around 
 me. 
 
 " I suppose my reeling brain became maddened by the excitement ; 
 for even yet, when by any accident I suffer slight illness, terrible fancies 
 of that dreadful scene come back ; and I have been told that, in my wild 
 cries and shouts, I seem encouraging and urging on the Infuriate herd, 
 and by my gestures appearing to control and direct their headlong 
 course. Had it been possible, I believe I should have thrown myself to 
 the earth and sought death at once, even in this dreadful form, than live 
 to die the thousand deaths of agony that night inflicted ; but this could 
 not be, and so, as day broke, I was still carried on, not, indeed, with the 
 same speed as before ; weariness weighed on the vast moving mass, but 
 the pressure of those behind still drove them onward. I thought the 
 long hours of darkness were terrible ; and the appalling gloom of night 
 added tortures to my sufferings ; but the glare of daylight, the burning 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 71 
 
 sun, and the clouds of dust, were still worse. I remember, too, when 
 exhaustion had nearly spent my last frail energy, and when my powerless 
 hands, letting fall the bridle, dropped heavily to my side, that the herd 
 suddenly halted — halted, as if arrested by some gigantic hand ; and then 
 the pressure became so dreadful that my bones seemed almost bursting 
 from my flesh, and I screamed aloud in my agony. After this, I re- 
 member little else. The other events of that terrible ride, are like the 
 shadowy spectres of a magic lantern ; vague memories of sufferings, 
 pangs that even yet chill my blood, steal over me, but unconnected and 
 incoherent, so that when, as I afterwards heard, the herd dashed into 
 the Caraanche encampment, I have no recollection of any thing, except 
 the terror-struck faces of the red men, as they bent before me, and 
 seemed to worship me as a deity. Yes, this terrible tribe, who had 
 scarcely ever been known to spare a white man, not only did not injure, 
 but they treated me with the tenderest care and attention. A singular 
 incident had favoured me ; one of the wise men had foretold some days 
 before that a herd of wild buffaloes, sent by their god, Anadongu, would 
 speedily appear, and rescue the tribe from the horrors of impending 
 starvation. The prediction was possibly based upon some optical delusion, 
 like that I have mentioned. Whatever its origin, the accomplishment was 
 hailed with ecstacy ; and I myself, a poor, almost dying creature, stained 
 with blood, crushed and speechless, w^as regarded as their deliverer and 
 preserver." 
 
 " How long did you remain amongst them ?" cried Miss Kennyfeck. 
 
 " And how did you escape ?" asked Olivia. 
 
 " Were they always equally kind ?" 
 
 " Were you sorry to leave them ?" were the questions rapidly poured 
 in ere Cashel could reply to any one of them. 
 
 "I have often heard," said Miss Kennyfeck, *^that the greater mental 
 ability of the white man is certain to secure him an ascendency over the 
 minds of savage tribes, and that, if he be spared at first, he is sure in the 
 end to become their chief." 
 
 " I believe they actually worship any display of intelligence above their 
 own," said Olivia. 
 
 " These are exaggerated accounts," said Cashel, smiling. " Marriage 
 is among savage as among civilised nations, a great stepping-stone to 
 eminence. When a white man is allied with a princess — " 
 
 " Oh, how shocking I" cried both together. " I'm sure no person, 
 any thing akin to a gentleman could dream of such a thing," said Miss 
 Kennyfeck. 
 
 " It happens now and then, notwithstanding," said Cashel, with a 
 most provoking gravity. 
 
72 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 While the sisters would have been well pleased had Cashel's personal 
 revelations continued on this theme, they did not venture to explore so 
 dangerous a path, and were both silent. Roland, too, appeared buried 
 in some recollection of the past, for he rode on for some time without 
 speaking — a pre-occupation on his part which seemed in no wise agree- 
 able to his fair companions. 
 
 " There are the MacFarlines, Livy," said Miss Kennyfeck ; " and 
 Linton, and Lord Charles, and the rest of them. I declare, I believe 
 they see us, and are coming this way." 
 
 " What a bore ! Is there no means of escape ? Mr. Cashel, pray 
 invent one." 
 
 *' I beg pardon. What was it you said ? I have been dreaming for 
 the last three minutes." 
 
 '* Pleasant dreams I'm certain they were," said Miss Kennyfeck, with 
 a very significant smile ; '' evoked^ doubtless, by some little memory of 
 your life among the Camanches." 
 
 Cashel started and grew red, while his astonishment rendered him 
 speechless. 
 
 " Here they come, how provoking," exclaimed Livy. 
 
 " Who are coming ?" 
 
 " Some friends of ours, who, strange to say, have the misfortune to 
 be peculiarly disagreeable to my sister Livy to-day, although I have 
 certainly seen Lord Charles contrive to make his company less distasteful 
 at other times." 
 
 " Oh, my dear Caroline, you know perfectly well," — broke in Olivia, 
 with a tone of unfeigned reproach. 
 
 " Let us ride for it, then," said Miss Kennyfeck, without permitting 
 her to finish. " Now, Mr. Cashel, a canter— a gallop, if you will." 
 
 " Quite ready," said Cashel, his animation at once returning at the 
 bare mention, and away they set, down a gentle slope with wooded sides, 
 then, they gained another grassy plain, skirted with trees, at the end of 
 which a small picturesque cottage stood, the residence of a ranger ; 
 passing this, they arrived at a thick wood, and then slackened their pace, 
 as all pursuit might be deemed fruitless. This portion of the Park, 
 unlike the rest, seemed devoted to various experiments in agriculture and 
 gardening. Here were little enclosed plots of Indian com and Swedish 
 turnips ; here, small plantations of fruit trees. Each succeeding Secretary 
 seemed to have left behind him some trace of his own favourite system 
 for the improvement of Ireland, and one might recall the names of long 
 departed officials in little experimental specimens of drainage, or fencing, 
 or drill culture, around. Less interested by these patchwork devices, 
 Cashel stood gazing on a beautiful white bull, who grazed in a little 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 73 
 
 paddock carefully fenced by a strong oak paling. Although of a small 
 breed, he was a perfect specimen of strength and proportion, his massive 
 and muscular neck and powerful loins, contrasting with the lanky and 
 tendonous form of the wild animal of the Prairies. 
 
 The girls had not remarked that Roland, beckoning to his servant, 
 despatched him at full speed on an errand, for each was loitering about, 
 amusing themselves with some object of the scene. 
 
 " What has fascinated you, yonder ?" said Miss Kennyfeck, riding up 
 to where Roland still stood in wondering admiration at the noble 
 animal. 
 
 "The handsomest bull I ever saw," cried he, in all the ecstacy of a 
 " Torero ;" " whoever beheld such a magnificent fellow ! Mark the 
 breadth of his chest, and the immense fore-arm. See how he lashes his 
 tail about. No need of Bandilleros to rouse your temper." 
 
 " Is there no danger of the creature springing over the paling ?" said 
 Olivia, drawing closer to Cashel, and looking at him with a most trust- 
 ful dependence. 
 
 Alas for Roland's gallantry, he answered the words and not the 
 glance that accompanied them. 
 
 *' No ; he'd never think of it, if not excited to some excess of passion. 
 I'd not answer for his patience or our safety either, if really provoked. 
 See I is not that glorious!" This burst of enthusiasm was called forth 
 by the bull, seized with some sudden caprice, taking a circuit of the 
 paddock at full speed, his head now raised majestically aloft, and, now, 
 bent to the ground ; he snatched some tufts of his grass as he went, and 
 flung them from him in wild sport. 
 
 " Bravo, toro !" cried Cashel in all the excitement of delight and 
 admiration, " Viva el toro !" shouted he, " not a "Corrida" of the old 
 w^orld or the new ever saw a braver beast." 
 
 Whether in compliance with his humour, or that she really caught 
 up the enthusiasm from Cashel, Miss Kennyfeck joined in all his admira- 
 tion, and seemed to watch the playful pranks of the great animal with 
 delight. 
 
 " How you would enjoy a real ' toro machia,' " said Cashel, as he 
 turned towards her, and felt that she was far handsomer than he had 
 ever believed before. Indeed, the heightened colour of exercise, and 
 the flashing brilliancy of her eyes made her seem so without the addi- 
 tional charm derived from sympathy with his humour. 
 
 " I should delight in it," cried she, with enthusiasm. " Oh, if I could " 
 but see one !" '* 
 
 Cashel drew nearer as she spoke, his dark and piercing eyes fixed 
 with a look of steadfast admiration, when ia a low half whisper he said, 
 
74 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 "Would you really like it? Have these wild and desperate games 
 an attraction for you ?" 
 
 '* Oh, do not ask me," said she, in the same low voice. " Why should 
 I confess a wish for that which never can be." 
 
 '' How can you say that ? Have not far greater, and less likely things 
 happened to almost all of us ? Think of me, for instance. Travelling 
 with the Gambusinos a few months back, and now — now your com- 
 panion here." 
 
 If there was not a great deal in the mere words themselves, there was 
 enough in the look of the speaker to make them deeply felt. How much 
 further Cashel might have adventured, and with what additional specula- 
 tions invested the future is not for us to say, for, just then, his groom rode 
 up at speed, holding in his hand a great coil of rope to one end of which 
 a small round ball of wood was fastened. 
 
 " What is that for, Mr. Cashel ?" inquired both the girls together, as 
 they saw him adjust the coils lightly on his left arm and poise the ball 
 in his right hand. 
 
 *' Cannot you guess what it means ?" said Roland, smiling. " Have 
 you never heard of a lasso ?" 
 
 " A lasso !' exclaimed both in amazement. " You surely could never 
 intend — '^ 
 
 " You shall see," cried he, as he made three or four casts with the 
 rope in the air, and caught up the loops again with astonishing dexterity. 
 " Now only promise me not to be afraid, nor, if possible, let a cry 
 escape, and I'll show you some rare sport. Just take your places here, 
 the horses will stand perfectly quiet." Without waiting for a reply, he 
 ordered the grooms to remain at either side of the young ladies and 
 then dismounting, he forced open the lock and led his horse into the 
 paddock. This done, he leisurely closed the gate and mounted, every 
 motion being as free from haste and excitement, as if made upon the 
 high road. As for the bull, at the noise of the gate on its hinges he 
 lifted up his head, but as it were indifferent to the cause, he resumed 
 his grazing attitude the moment after. 
 
 Cashel's first care seemed to be to reconnoitre the ground, for at a slow 
 walk he traversed the space in various directions, carefully examining 
 the footing and watching for any accidental circumstance that might 
 vary the surface. He then rode up to the paling, where in unfeigned 
 terror the two girls, sat silently following him in every motion. 
 
 ** Now, remember," said he, smiling, " no fears, no terrors. If you 
 were to make me nervous, I should probably miss my cast, and the 
 disgrace, not to speak of any thing else, would be dreadful:" 
 
 " Oh I we'll behave very well," said Miss Kennyfeck, trying to 
 
EOLAJsTD CASHEL. 75 
 
 assume a composure that her pale cheek, and compressed lips very ill 
 corroborated. As for Olivia, too terrified for words, she merely looked 
 at him, while the tears rolled heavily down her cheeks. 
 
 " Now, to see if my hand has not forgot its cunning !" said Roland, 
 as he pressed his horse's flanks, and pushing into a half gallop, made a 
 circuit around the bull. The scene was a picturesque as well as an ex- 
 citing one. The mettlesome horse, on which the rider sat with con- 
 summate ease, in his right hand the loose coils of the lasso, with which 
 to accustom his horse, he flourished and shook around the head and ears 
 of the animal as he went ; while, with head bent down, and the strong 
 neck slightly retracted, the bull seemed to watch him as he passed, and 
 at length, slowly turning, continued to fix his eyes upon the daring in- 
 truder. Gradually narrowing his circle, Cashel was cautiously approach- 
 ing within a suitable distance for the cast, when the bull, as it were losing 
 patience, gave one short hoarse cry and made at him, so sudden the 
 spring, and so infuriate the action, that a scream, from both the sisters 
 together, showed how near the danger must have appeared. Roland, 
 however, had foreseen from the attitude of the beast what was coming, 
 and by a rapid wheel, escaped the charge, and passed close beside the 
 creature's flank unharmed. Twice or thrice the same manoeuvre oc- 
 curred with the same result, and although the horse was terrified to that 
 degree, that his sides were one sheet of foam, the control of the rider 
 was perfect, and his every gesture bespoke ease and confidence. 
 
 Suddenly the bull stopped, and retiring till his haunches touched the 
 paling, he seemed surveying the field, and contemplating another and 
 more successful mode of attack. The concentrated passion of the crea- 
 ture's attitude at this moment was very fine, as with red eyeballs, and 
 frothed lips he stood, slowly and in -heavy strokes lashing his flanks with 
 his long tail. 
 
 "Is he tired?" said Miss Kennyfeck, as Cashel stood close to the 
 paling, and breathed his horse, for what he foresaw might be a sharp 
 encounter. 
 
 " No ! far from it," answered Roland, " the fellow has the cunning 
 of an old 'Corridor,' you'll soon see him attack." 
 
 The words were not well uttered, when, with a low deep roar, the 
 bull bounded forward, not in a straight line, however, but zig-zagging 
 from left to right, and right to left, as if with the intention of pinning 
 the horseman into a corner. The terrific springs of the great beast, 
 and his still more terrific cries, appeared to paralyse the horse, who stood 
 immovable, nor was it till the savage animal had approached within a 
 few yards of him, that at last he reared up straight, and then, as if 
 overcome by terror, dashed off at speed, the bull following. 
 
76 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 The scene was now one of almost maddening excitement, for, 
 although the speed of the horse far exceeded that of his pursuer, the 
 bull, by taking a small circle, was rapidly gaining on him, and, before 
 the third circuit of the field was made, was actually almost side by side. 
 Roland saw all his danger, he knew well that the slightest swerve, a 
 " single mistake," would be fatal, but he had been trained to peril, and 
 this was not the first time he had played for life and won. It was then 
 just at the instant when the bull, narrowing his distance, was ready, by 
 one bound, to drive his horns into the horse's flank, that the youth, sud- 
 denly reined up, and throwing the horse nearly on his haunches, suffered 
 his pursuer to shoot a -head. The same instant, at least so it seemed, he 
 rose in his stirrups, and winding the rope three or four times above his 
 head, hurled it forth. Away went the floating coils through the air, and 
 with a sharp snap, they caught the animal's fore legs in their fast embrace. 
 Maddened by the restraint, he plunged forward, but ere he gained the 
 ground, a dexterous pull of the lasso jerked the legs backwards, and the 
 huge beast fell floundering to the earth. The stunning force seemed 
 enough to have extinguished life, and he lay indeed motionless for a few 
 seconds, when, by a mighty effort, he strove to burst his bonds. Roland, 
 meanwhile, after a severe struggle to induce his horse to approach, 
 abandoning the effort, sprung to the ground, and by three or four adroit 
 turns of the lasso over the head and between the horns, completely fet- 
 tered him, and at each fresh struggle passing new turns of the rope, he 
 so bound him that the creature lay panting and powerless, his quiver- 
 ing sides and distented nostrils breathing the deep rage that possessed 
 him. 
 
 "Ah ! Mosquito mio." — The Tauridor's usual pet name for a young 
 bull. — " You were an easy victory after all, though I believe with a little 
 more practice of the game I should only get off second best." 
 
 There was, if we must confess it, a certain little bit of boastfulness in 
 the speech, the truth being, that the struggle though brief, had been a 
 sharp one, and so Cashel's air and look bespoke it, as he led his horse 
 out of the paddock. 
 
 It would be a somewhat nice point, happily, it is not requisite to 
 decide it, whether Roland was more flattered by the enthusiastic praise 
 of the elder sister, or touched by the silent, but eloquent, look with 
 which Olivia received him. 
 
 *' What a splendid sight, what a noble achievement!" said Miss 
 Kennyfeck, " how I thank you for thus giving me, as it were, a peep 
 into Spain, and letting me feel the glorious enthusiasm a deed of heroism 
 can inspire !" 
 
 " Are you certain you are not hurt?" whispered Olivia; "the crea- 
 
KOLAKD CASHEL. 77 
 
 tiire's horns certainly grazed you. Oh dear! how terrible it was at one 
 moment." 
 
 " Are you going to leave him in his toils ?" said Miss Kenny feck. 
 
 " Oh, certainly," replied Cashel, laughing, " I commit the pleasant 
 office of liberating him to other hands," and so saying he carelessly 
 mounted his horse, while they pressed him with a hundred questions and 
 inquiries about the late combat. 
 
 "I shall be amused to hear the reports that will be current to- 
 morrow," said Miss Kennyfeck, " about this affair. I'm certain the truth 
 will be the last to ooze out. My groom says that the creature belongs 
 to the Lord Lieutenant, and if so, there will be no end to the stories." 
 
 Cashel did not seem as much impressed as the sisters expected at this 
 announcement, nor at all aware that he had been constructively affronting 
 the Vice- Majesty of the land, and so he chatted away in pleasant indiffer- 
 ence while they continued their ride towards home. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 How kindness all its spirit lends, 
 When we discuss our dearest friends, 
 Not meanly faults and follies hiding, 
 But frankly oAvning each backsliding. 
 Confessing with polite compassion, 
 " They're very bad, but still, the fashion.*' 
 
 The Mode. 
 
 The Kennyfecks were without strangers that day, and Casliel, who 
 was now, as it were by unanimous election, received into the bosom of 
 the family, enjoyed for the first time in his life a peep into the science of 
 dinner-giving, in the discussions occasioned by the approaching banquet. 
 
 No sooner were they assembled around the drawing-room fire, than 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck, whose whole soul was occupied by the one event, took 
 occasion, as it were, by pure accident, to remember that they "were to have 
 some people to-morrow." Now the easy nonchalance of the reminis- 
 cence and the shortness of the invitation would seem to imply, that it 
 was merely one of those slight deviations from daily routine which adds 
 two or three guests to ,the family-table, and so, indeed, did it impress 
 Cashel, who little knew that the dinner in question had been devised, 
 planned, and arranged full three weeks before, and the company packed 
 with a degree of care and selection that evinced all the importance of the 
 event. 
 
78 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Time was when the Insh capital enjoyed, and justly, the highest re- 
 putation for all that constitutes social success, when around the dinner- 
 tables of the city were met men of the highest order of intelligence, 
 men pleased to exercise, without effort or display, all the charm of wit 
 and eloquence, and to make society a brilliant re-union of those gifts 
 which, in the wider sphere of active life, won fame and honours. 
 
 As the race of these bright conversers died out, for alas they belonged 
 to a past era ! their places were assumed by others of very dissimilar tastes. 
 Many educated at English universities brought back with them to Ireland 
 the more reserved and cautious demeanour of the other country, and thus, 
 if not by their influence, by their mere presence, threw a degree of 
 constraint over the tone of society, which in destroying its freedom, des- 
 poiled it of all its charm. 
 
 Fashion, that idol of an Englishman's heart, soon became an Irish 
 deity too, and it now grew the " ton" to be English, or at least what 
 was supposed to be such, in dress and manner, in hours, accent, and de- 
 meanour. The attempt was never successful ; the reserve and placidity 
 which sit with gracefulness on the high-bred Englishman, was a stiff, 
 uncourteous manner in the more cordial and volatile Irishman. His 
 own dem-canour was a tree that would not bear grafting, and the fruit 
 lost all its raciness by the admixture. 
 
 The English officials at the Castle, the little staff of a Commander of 
 the Forces, the newly made Bishop, fresh from Oxford, even the officers of 
 the last arrived dragoon regiment, became, by right of "accent," the 
 types of manner and breeding in circles where, in the actual enjoyment 
 of social qualities, they were manifestly beneath those over whom they 
 held sway ; however, they were stamped at the great metropolitan mint, 
 and the competitors were deemed a mere depreciated currency which a 
 few years more would cancel for eter. 
 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck, as a fasliionable dinner-giver, of course, selected her 
 company from this more choice section; a fact which deserves to be 
 recorded, to the credit of her hospitality ; for it was a very rare occur- 
 rence, indeed, when she found herself invited by any of those distin- 
 guished personages who figured the oftenest at her own table. They 
 thought, perhaps justly, that their condescension was sufficiently great to 
 demand no further acknowledgment ; and that, as virtue is said to be 
 its own reward, theirs was abundantly exhibited in the frankness with 
 which they ate Kennyfeck's venison, and drank his Burgundy, both of 
 which were excellent. 
 
 Every one dined there, because they knew " they'd meet every one." 
 A pretender in the world of fashion, unlike a pretender to monarchy, 
 is sure to have the best company in his salo7i ; and so, although you. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. - 79 
 
 might have met many at the tables of the first men of the country, 
 who were there by virtue of their talents or abilities, at Kennyfeck's, the 
 company was sure to be " select." They could not afford dilution, lest 
 they should find themselves at ease ! 
 
 " Olivia, pray, take that newspaper from Mr. Kennyfeck, and let us 
 hear who he has asked to dinner, to-morrow," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, 
 gracefully imitating an attitude of Lady Londonderry in the " Book of 
 Beauty." 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck heard the request, and started; his surprise had 
 not been greater, if the Chancellor had addressed him as " Tom." 
 It was the first time in his life that an allusion had ever been 
 made to the bare possibility of his inviting the company of a grand 
 dinner ; a prerogative he had never so much as dreamt of, and now, 
 he actually heard his wife refer to him, as if he were even a party to 
 the deed. 
 
 " Invite! Mrs. Kennyfeck. I'm sure I never thought " 
 
 '•'No matter what you thought," said his spouse, reddening at his 
 stupidity. "I wanted to remember who are coming, that we may let 
 Mr. Cashel learn something of our Dublin folk." 
 
 " Here's a list, mamma," said Olivia ; " and I believe there are no 
 apologies. Shall I read it ?" 
 
 " Do so, child," said she, but evidently out of humour that the de- 
 lightful little display of indifference and ignorance should not have suc- 
 ceeded better. 
 
 " Sir Andrew and Lady Janet Mac Farline, of course !" cried Miss 
 Kennyfeck ; " an't they first ?" 
 
 *' They are," replied her sister. 
 
 " Sir Andrew, Mr. Cashel/' said Mrs. Kennyfeck, "is a very distin- 
 guished officer, a K.C.B., and something else besides. He was in all 
 the Duke's battles in Spain ; a most gallant ofilcer, but a little rough in 
 manner, — Scotch, you know. Lady Janet was sister to Lord — what is 
 that Lord, Caroline ? I always forget.'* 
 
 " Dumkeeran, mamma." 
 
 *' Yes^ that's it. She is a charming person, but very proud ; very 
 proud, indeed, — will not visit Math the Dubhn people ; with us, I must 
 say, I have never seen any thing like her kindness ; we are absolutely 
 like sisters. Go on, Olivia." 
 
 " Lord Charles Frobischer." 
 
 " And the Honourable ElHot St. John," chimed in her sister ; *' Damon 
 and Pythias, where a dinner is concerned;" this was said in a whisper; 
 " thev are the aides-de-camp to the Lord Lieutenant. Lord Charles is 
 
80 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 younger brother to the Duke of Derwent ; quite the man of fashion, 
 and so amusing ! Oh, he's dehghtful !" 
 
 ^' Charming!" duetted the two sisters. 
 
 *' Mr. St. John is a very nice person, too ; but one never knows him 
 like Lord Charles, he is more reserved. Olivia, however, says he has a 
 great deal in him." 
 
 " Oh, mamma ! I'm sure, I don't know ; I only thought him much 
 more conversable than he gets credit for." 
 
 " Weil, I meant no more," said her mother, who did not fancy the 
 gathering gloom on Cashel's face at this allusion ; " read on again, 
 child." 
 
 '•' Lord Chief Justice Malone." 
 
 '•' Oh, Mr. Ken-nyfeck," said she, playfully ; " this is your doing ; I 
 suspected, from your confusion a while ago, what you were at." Then, 
 turning to Roland, she said ; " he is always playing us this trick, Mr. 
 Cashel, whenever we have a few friends together, he will insist upon 
 inviting some of his old bar cronies !" 
 
 A deep groan from Mr. Kennyfeck at the terrible profanity of thus 
 styling the chief of the Common Pleas, made every one start ; but even 
 this, like a skilful tactician, Mrs. Kennyfeck turned to her own advan- 
 tage. 
 
 " Pray don't sigh that way. He is a most excellent person, a great 
 lawyer, and, they say, must eventually have the peerage.'^ She nodded 
 to Olivia to proceed, who read on. 
 
 " The Attorney-general and Mrs. Knivett." 
 
 " Oh/ really, Mr. Kennyfeck, this is pushing prerogative; don't you 
 think so, Mr. Cashel ? Not but you know the Attorney -general is a 
 great perconage in this poor country ; he is member for — where is it?'* 
 
 " Baldoyle, mamma." 
 
 *' Yes, Member for Baldoyle ; and she was a Miss Gamett, of Red 
 Gamett, in Antrim ; a most respectable connexion ; so I think we may 
 forgive him. Yes, Mr. Kennyfeck, you are, at least, reprieved." 
 
 " Here come the Whites, mamma. I suppose we may reckon on 
 both, though she, as usual, sends her hopes and fears about being with 
 us at dinner, but will be delighted to come in the evening." 
 
 *' That apology is stereotyped," broke in Miss Kennyfeck, *' as well 
 as the little simpering speech she makes on entering the drawing-room. 
 * So you see, my dear Mrs. Kennyfeck, there is no resisting you. Co- 
 lonel White assured me, that your pleasant dinners always set him up 
 for a month — he, he, he.'" 
 
 If Cashel had not laughed heartily at the lisping imitation, it is pos- 
 
EOLAJTD CASHEL. 81 
 
 sible Mrs. Kennyfeck miglit have been displeased, but as the quiz 
 " took," she showed no umbrage whatever. 
 
 *' The Honourable Downie Meek, Under Seeretar)- of State," read 
 Olivia, with a little more of emphasis than on the last-mentioned 
 names. 
 
 " A person you'll be charmed with, Mr. Cashel, so highly informed, 
 so well bred, so perfectly habituated to move in the very highest cir- 
 cles," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, giving herself, as she spoke, certain graces 
 of gesture, which she deemed illustrative of distinguished fashion. 
 
 *^ A cucumber dressed in oil," whispered Miss Kennyfeck, who showed 
 more than once a degree of impatience at these eulogistic descriptions, 
 
 *• The Dean of Dnimcondera, your great favourite, mamma." 
 
 *' So he is, my dear. Now, Mr. Cashel, I shall insist upon you 
 liking my Dean. I call him my Dean, because one day last spring — ^'* 
 
 *' Mrs. Biles wants to speak to you, ma'am, for a minute," said the 
 butler, from behind the chair, and, although the interruption was any 
 thing but pleasant, yet the summons must be obeyed, for Mrs. Biles was 
 the housekeeper, and any approach to treating her with iudifterence or 
 contempt, on the eve of a great dinner, would be about as impolitic as 
 insulting a general who was about to command in a great battle ; so 
 that Mrs. Kennyfeck rose to comply, not even venturing a word of com- 
 plaint, lest the formidable functionary should hear of it and take her re- 
 venge on the made dishes. 
 
 " Now for the Dean. Is mamma out of hearing ?" said Miss Kenny- 
 feck, who rejoiced at the casual opportunity of a little portrait-painting 
 in a different style. " Conceive a tall, pompous man, with large white 
 features, and a high bald head with a conical top; a sharp, clear, but 
 unpleasant voice, always uttering grave nonsense, or sublime absurdity. 
 He was a brilliant light at Oxford, and came over to illumine our dark- 
 ness, and if pedantry could only supply the deficiency in the potato 
 crop, he would be a providence to the land. His affectation is to know 
 every thing, from chuck farthing to conic sections, and so to diffuse his 
 information as always to talk science to young ladies, and discuss the 
 royal game of goose with Lords of the Treasury. His failures in these 
 attempts at Admirable Crichtonism, would abash even confidence great 
 as his, but that he is surrounded by a little staff of admirers, who fend 
 off the sneers of the audience, and like buffers, they break the rude 
 shocks of worldly collision. Socially, he is the tyrant of this capital, 
 from having learning enough to be more than a match for those he en- 
 counters, and skill enough to give his paradoxes a mock air of authority, 
 he usurps a degree of dictation, and rule, that makes society mere 
 slavery." 
 
82 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 ** You'll meet him to-morrow evening, and you'll see if he does not 
 know more of Mexico and Savannah life than you do. Take care, I say, 
 that you venture not into the wilds of the Pampas, for you'll have his 
 companionship, not as fellow-traveller, but as guide and instructor. As 
 for myself, whenever I read in the papers of meetings to petition Parlia- 
 ment to repeal this or redress that, in the name of * Justice to Ireland,' I 
 ask why does nobody pray for the recall of the Dean of Drumcondera ?" 
 
 " Here's mamma," whispered Olivia, as the drawing-room door 
 opened, 
 
 "We've done the Dean, mamma," said Miss K^nnyfeck, with calm 
 composure. 
 
 " Well, don't you feel you love him already ? Mr. Cashel, confess 
 that you participate in all my raptures. Oh dear ! I do so admire talent 
 and genius," exclaimed Mrs. Kennyfeck, theatrically. 
 
 Cashel smiled, and muttered something unintelligible, and Olivia 
 read on, but with a rapidity that showed the names required no special 
 notice. The Craufurds, the Smythes, Mrs. Felix Brown, Lady Emme- 
 line Grove. 
 
 "Oh, that dear Lady Emmeline! a most gifted creature, she's the 
 authoress of some sweet poems. She wrote that touching sonnet in the 
 * Nobility's Gallery of Loveliness,' beginning, ' Twin Sister of the 
 Evening Star.' — I'm sure you know it." 
 
 "I'm unfortunate enough never to have seen it," said Cashel. 
 
 " Well, you shall see the writer to-morrow evening ; I must really take 
 care that you are acquainted. People will tell you that she is affected, 
 and takes airs of authorship, but remember her literary success, think 
 of her contributions to the Court Journal,'^ 
 
 " Those sweet flatteries of the nobility that Linton calls court- 
 plaister, mamma," said Miss Kennyfeck, laughing maliciously. 
 
 " Linton is very abusive," said her mother, tartly; "he never has a 
 good word for any one." 
 
 "He used to be a pet of yours, mamma," insinuated Olivia. 
 
 " So he was till he became so intimate with those atrocious Fother- 
 gills." 
 
 " Who is he ?" said Cashel. 
 
 " He's a son of a Sir George Linton." 
 
 " That's one story, mamma ; but as nobody ever saw the aforesaid 
 Sir George, the presumption is — it may be incorrect. The last version 
 is that he was found, like Moses, the discoverer being Lady Harriet 
 Dropmore, who, with a humanity never to be forgotten — or forgiven," 
 whispered Olivia, "for she has been often taunted with it, — took 
 care of the creature, and had it reared — nay, better again, she sent it 
 
ROLAKD CASHEL. 83 
 
 to Rugby and to Cambridge, got it into Parliament for Elmwood, and 
 has now made it Master of the Horse in Ireland." 
 
 *' He is the most sarcastic person I ever met." 
 
 " It is such an easy talent," said Miss Kennyfeck ; " the worst of 
 wine makes capital vinegar." 
 
 " Then here follow a set of soldier people," said Olivia ; " Hussars 
 and Queen's Bays, and a Captain Tanker of the Royal Navy — oh, 1 
 remember, he has but one arm — and then the Pelertons and the 
 Cuffes." 
 
 " Well, are we at the end of our muster-roll ?" 
 
 " Yes, we have nearly reached the dregs of the cup. I see Mr. Knox 
 Softly, and the Townleys !" 
 
 " Oh, the Townleys ! Poor Mrs. Townley, with her yellow turban 
 and red feathers, that Lord Dunbrock mistook for a vol au vent gar- 
 nished with shrimps." 
 
 "Caroline!" cried Mrs. Kennyfeck, reprovingly, for her daughter's 
 sallies had more than once verged upon the exhaustion of her patience. 
 
 " We shall not weary you with any description of the ' refreshers,' 
 Mr. Cashel." 
 
 " Pray who and what are they ?" inquired Cashel. 
 
 " The ^ refreshers' are that amiable but undervalued class in society 
 who are always asked for the evening when the other members of the 
 family are invited to dine. They are the young lady and young gentle- 
 man class : the household with ten daughters, and a governess that 
 sings like, any thing but, Persiani. They are briefless barristers, with 
 smart whiskers ; and young men reading for the church, with moustaches ; 
 infantry oflScers, old maids, fellows of college, and the gentleman who 
 tells Irish stories." 
 
 '' Caroline, 1 really must request — " 
 
 "But, mamma, Mr. Cashel surely ought to learn the map of the 
 country he is to live in." 
 
 " I am delighted to acquire my geography so pleasantly," cried Cashel. 
 " Pray go on." 
 
 " I am bound over," said she, smiling ; " mamma is looking penknives 
 at me, so I suppose I must stop. But as to these same refreshers, you 
 will easily distinguish them from the dinner company. The young ladies 
 are always fresher in their white muslin ; they walk about in gangs, and 
 eat a prodigious deal of bread and butter at tea. Well, I have done, 
 mamma, though I'm sure I was not aware of my transgressings." 
 
 " I declare Mr. Kennyfeck is asleep again.— Mr. Kennyfeck, have 
 the goodness to wake up and say who is to make the whist table for 
 Lady Blennerbore." 
 
 G 2 
 
84 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " YeS; my Lord," said Mr. Keunyfeck, waking up and rubbing his 
 eyes, " we'll take a verdict for the plaintiff, leaving the points reserved." 
 A very general laugh here recalled him to himself, as with extreme con- 
 fusion he continued, " I was so fatigued in the Rolls to-day. It was an 
 argument relative to a trust, Mr. Cashel, which it is of great moment, 
 you should be relieved of." 
 
 " Oh, never trouble your head about it now, Sir," said Cashel, good- 
 naturedly. '* I am quite grieved at the weariness and fatigue my affairs 
 are costing you." 
 
 ** I was asking about Lady Blennerbore's whist," interposed Mrs. 
 Kennyfeck. "Who have you for her party besides the Chief Justice?" 
 
 "Major M'Cartney says he can't afford it, mamma," said the eldest 
 daughter, slily. " She is so very lucky with the honours !" 
 
 "Where is Thorpe," cried Mrs. Kennyfeck, not deigning to notice 
 this speech — " he used to like his rubber?" 
 
 " He told me," said Miss Kennyfeck, " that he wouldn't play with her 
 Ladyship any more, that one had some chance formerly, but that since 
 she has had that touch of the palsy, she does what she likes with the Kings 
 and Aces." 
 
 " This is atrocious ; never let me hear it again," said the mamma, in- 
 dignantly ; "at all events, old Mr. Moore Hacket will do." 
 
 " Poor old man, he is so blind, that he has to thumb the cards all over 
 to try and know them by the feel, and, then, he always washes the King 
 and Queen's faces with a snuffy handkerchief, so that the others are 
 sneezing at every trick they play." 
 
 ** Caroline, you permit yourself to take the most improper freedoms. 
 I desire that we may have no more of this." 
 
 " I rather like old Mr. Hacket," said the incorrigible assailant, " he 
 mistook Mr. Pottinger's bald and polished head for a silver salver, and 
 laid his tea-cup on it, the last evening he was here." 
 
 If Cashel could not help smiling at Miss Kennyfeck's saUies, he felt it 
 was in rather a strange spirit of hospitality the approaching entertain- 
 ment was given, since few of the guests were spared the most slighting 
 sarcasms, and scarcely for any, was there professed the least friendship or 
 affection. He was, however, very new to " the world," and the strange 
 understanding on which its daily intercourse, its social life of dinners, 
 visits and dtjeunis subsists, was perfectly unknown to him. He had 
 much to learn, but as his nature was of an inquiring character, he was as 
 equal as he was well inclined to its task. It was then, with less enjoy- 
 ment of the scene for its absurdity, than actually as an occasion to 
 acquire knowledge of people and modes of living hitherto unknown, he 
 listened gravely to the present discussion, and sat with attentive ears to 
 
ROLAKD CASHEL. 85 
 
 hear who was to take in Lady Janet, and whether Su* Archy should 
 precede the Chief Justice or not ; if a dragoon colonel should take the 
 pas of an attorney-general, and whether it made the same difference in 
 an individual's rank that it did, in his comfort, that he was on the half- 
 pay list. When real rank is concerned, few things are easier than the 
 arrangement of such details, the rules are simple, the exceptions few, if 
 any, but in a society where the distinctions are inappreciable, where the 
 designations are purely professional, an algebraic equation is simpler of 
 solution than such difficulties. 
 
 Then came a very animated debate as to the places at table, wherein lay 
 the extreme difficulty of having every one away from the fire and nobody 
 in a draft, except of course those little valued guests, who really appeared 
 to play the ignoble part of mortar in a great edifice, being merely the 
 cohesive ingredient that averted friction between more important mate- 
 rials. Next came the oft-disputed question, as to whether the champagne 
 should be served with the petit pates ^ after the fish, or at a remote 
 stage of the second course. 
 
 The young ladies being eager advocates of the former j Mrs. Kenny- 
 feck as firmly denouncing the practice as a new-fangled thing, that " the 
 Dean" himself said he had never seen at Christ Church; but the really 
 great debate arose on a still more knotty point, — and one, on which, it 
 appeared the family had brought in various bills, without ever discover- 
 ing the real remedy. It was, by what means — of course, moral force 
 means — it were possible to induce old Lady Blennerbore to rise from table, 
 whenever Mrs. Kennyfeck had decreed that move to be necessary ? 
 
 It was really moving to listen to Mrs. Kennyfeck's narratives of 
 signals unnoticed, and signs unattended to ; that even on the very last 
 day her Ladyship had dined there, Mrs. Kennyfeck had done little else 
 for three quarters of an hour than half stand and sit down again, to the 
 misery of herself, and the discomfort of her neighbours, 
 
 " Poor, dear old thing," said Olivia, " she is so very near-sighted." 
 "Not a bit of it," said her sister ; "don't tell me of bad sight that 
 can distinguish the decanter of Port from the Claret, which I have seen 
 her do, some half-dozen times, without one blunder." 
 
 " rd certainly stop the supplies," said Casliel ; " wouldn't that do." 
 " Impossible !" said Miss Kennyfeck ; " you couldn't starve the whole 
 garrison for one refractory subject." 
 
 " Mr. Linton's plan was a perfect failure, too," said Mrs. Kennyfeck. 
 " He thought, by the introduction of some topic ladies do not usually 
 discuss, that she would certainly withdraw ; on the contrary, her Lady- 
 ship called out to me, * I see your impatience, my dear, but I must 
 hear the end of this naughty story.' We tried the French plan, too, 
 
86 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 and made the gentlemen rise with us ; but really they were so rude and 
 ill-tempered the entire evening after, I'll never venture on it again/' 
 
 Here the whole party sighed, and were silent, as if the wished-for 
 mode of relief were as distant as ever. 
 
 " Must we really ask those Claridge girls to sing, mamma,'' said 
 Miss Kenny feck, after a long pause. 
 
 " Of course you must. They were taught by Costa, and they are 
 always asked wherever they go." 
 
 " As a matter of curiosity, Mr. Cashel, the thing is worth hearing. 
 Paganini's monocorde was nothing to it, for theyll go through a whole 
 scena of Donizetti, with only one note on their voice. Oh, dear ! how very 
 tiresome it all is ; the same little scene of pressings, and refusals, and 
 entreaties, and rejections, and the oft-repeated dispute of the sisters 
 between * Notte divina' and * Non vedro mai,' ending in that Tyrolese 
 thing, which is on every organ in the streets, and has not the merit of 
 the little shaved dog, with the hat in his mouth, to make it droll ! And 
 then — " here Miss Kennyfeck caught a side-glance of a most rebuking 
 frown on her mother's face, so that adroitly addressing herself to Cashel, 
 she seemed unaware of it — " and then, when the singing is over, and 
 those who detest music are taking their revenge by abusing the singers, 
 and people are endeavouring to patch up the interrupted chattings — 
 then, I suppose, we are, quite suddenly — without the slightest premedi- 
 tation — to suggest a quadrille, or carpet-dance. This is to be proposed 
 as a most new and original idea, that never occurred to any one before, 
 and is certain to be hailed with a warm enthusiasm, all the young ladies 
 smiling and smirking, and the gentlemen fumbling for their soiled kid 
 gloves — clean ones woyld destroy the merit of the impromptu." 
 
 " I'm certain Mr. Cashel's impression of our society here will scarcely 
 be flattering, from what he has heard this evening," said Mrs. Kenny- 
 feck, rising. 
 
 " He'll see with his own eyes to-morrow night," said Miss Kennyfeck, 
 coolly. 
 
 " Will you favour me with a little of your time in the morning ?" 
 said Mr. Kennyfeck to Cashel. " I find that I cannot avoid troubling 
 you ; there are several documents for signature ; and if you could de- 
 vote an hour, or, if possible, two — " 
 
 " I am perfectly at your orders," said Cashel ; " the ladies say that 
 they will not ride, and therefore dispose of me as you like." 
 
 A hearty good-night followed, and the party broke up. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 87 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " Geld kann vieles in der Welt." — Wiener Lied. 
 " Money can do much in this world." 
 
 When Cashel descended the stairs to breakfast, he took a peep into 
 the drawing-room as he went, some slight hope of seeing Olivia, 
 perhaps, suggesting the step. He was disappointed, however ; except 
 a servant arranging candles in the lustres, the room was empty. The 
 same fate awaited him in the breakfast-room, where a small table, 
 most significantly laid for two, showed that a tete-a-tete with his 
 host was in store for him. No wonder, then, if Mr. Kennyfeck saw 
 something of impatience in the air of his young guest, whose eyes 
 turned to the door each time it opened, or were as hastily directed to 
 the garden at each stir without, evident signs of thoughts directed in 
 channels different from the worthy solicitor's. 
 
 Confess, my dear reader — if you be of the sex to judge of these 
 matters — confess, it is excessively provoking, when you have prepared 
 your mind, sharpened your wit, — perhaps, too, curled your whiskers — 
 with a latent hope that you are to meet and converse with two very 
 handsome and sprightly girls, that the interview is converted into a 
 scene with " Papa." For ourselves, who acknowledge to have a kind of 
 Catholicism in these affairs, who like the dear creatures in all the 
 flaunting dash of a riding-hat and habit, cantering away of a breezy 
 day, with laughing voice and half uncurled hair ; who delight to see 
 them lounging in a britska or lolling in a phaeton ; who gaze with 
 rapture on charms heightened by the blaze of full-dress, and splendid 
 in all the brilliancy of jewels and flowers ; we own that we have a kind 
 of fondness, almost amounting to a preference, to the prim coquettish- 
 ness of a morning-dress — some light muslin thing, floating and gauzy 
 —showing the figure to perfection, and in its simplicity suiting well the 
 two braids of hair so innocently banded on the cheeks. There is some- 
 thing of conscious power in the quiet garb, a sense of trustfulness ; it 
 is like the warrior advancing without his weapons to a conference, that 
 is exceedingly pleasing ; seeming to say, you see that T am not a being 
 of tulle^ and gauze, and point de Bruxelles, of white satin, and turquoise, 
 and pink camelias, but a creatui'e whose duties may be in the daily 
 round of life, meant to sit beside on a grassy slope as much as on a velvet 
 ottoman, to talk with, as well as flirt with. 
 
88 ROLAJfD CASHEL. 
 
 We have no means of knowing* if Casliel was of our mind, and whether 
 these demi-toilette visions were as suggestive to his as they are to our 
 imagination, but that he bore his disappointment with a very bad grace 
 we can perfectly answer for, and showed, by his distracted manner and 
 inattentive air, that the papa's companionship was a very poor substitute 
 for the daughters'. 
 
 It must be owned, too, that Mr. Kennyfeck was scarcely a brilliant 
 converser, or had he been so, was the matter under consideration of a 
 kind to develop and display his abilities.. The worthy solicitor had 
 often promised himself the pleasure he now enjoyed of recounting the 
 whole story of the law proceedings. It was the great event of his own 
 life, " his Waterloo," and he dwelt on every detail with a prosy dalliance 
 that was death to the listener. Legal subtleties, shrewd and cunning 
 devices of crafty counsellors, all the artful dodges of the profession 
 Cashel heard with a scornful indifference or a downright apathy, and it 
 demanded all Mr. Kennyfeck's own enthusiasm in the case to make him 
 persist in a narrative so uninteresting to its only auditor. 
 
 ^' I fear I weary you, Mr. Cashel," said the solicitor, "with these 
 details, but I really supposed that you must feel desirous of knowing 
 not only the exact circumstances of your estate, but, of learning the 
 very singular history by which your claim was substantiated." 
 
 " If I am to be frank," said Cashel, boldly, " I must tell you that 
 these things possess not the slightest interest for me. When I was a 
 gambler — which, unfortunately, I was at one time — whether I won or 
 lost, I never could endure to discuss the game after it was over. So 
 long as there was a goal to reach, few men could feel more ardour in the 
 pursuit. I believe I have the passion for success as strong as my 
 neighbours, but the struggle over, the prize won, whether by myself op 
 another, it mattered not, it ceased to have any hold upon me. I could 
 address myself to a new contest, but never look back on the old one." 
 
 " So, that," said Kennyfeck, drawing a long breath to conceal a sigh, 
 " I am to conclude that this is a topic you would not desire to renew. 
 Well, I yield, of course, only pray how am I to obtain your opinion on 
 questions concerning your property ?" 
 
 " My opinions," said Cashel, " must be mere arbitrary decisions, come 
 to without any knowledge ; that, you are well aware of. I know nothing* 
 of this country — neither its interests. Its feelings, or its tastes. I know 
 just as little of what wealth will do, and what It will not do. Tell me, 
 therefore. In a few words what other men, situated as I am, would pur- 
 sue, what habits they would adopt, how live, and with whom ? If I can 
 conform, without any great sacrifice of personal freedom, I'll do so, 
 
ROLAXD CASHEL. 69 
 
 because I know of no slavery so bad as notoriety. Just then give me 
 your counsel, and I ask, intending to follow it." 
 
 Few men were less able than Mr. Kenny feck to offer a valuable 
 opinion on these difficult subjects, but the daily routine of his professional 
 life had made him acquainted with a certain detail that seemed to him- 
 self, at least, an undeviating rule of proceedure. He knew that, to the 
 heir of a large estate coming of age, that a wife and a seat in Parliament 
 were the two first objects. He had so often been engaged in drawing 
 up settlements for the one and raising money for the other contingency, 
 that they became as associated in his mind with one -and- twenty years 
 of age, as though intended by Nature to denote it. 
 
 With some reserve, which we must not scrutinise, he began with the 
 political object. 
 
 " I suppose, Sir," said he, *^you will desire to enter Parliament ?" 
 
 " I should like it," said Cashel, earnestly, " if a sense of inferiority 
 would not weigh too heavily on me, to compensate for the pleasure. With 
 an education so neglected as mine, I should run the hazard of either 
 unjustly depreciating my own judgment, or, what is worse, esteeming it 
 at more than its worth. Now, though I suspect that the interest of 
 politics would have a great attraction for me, I should always occupy 
 too humble a station regarding them, to make that interest a high one; 
 Omit Parliament, then, and what next?" 
 
 " The duties of a country gentleman are various and important — the 
 management of your estates.^' 
 
 " This I must leave in your hands," said Cashel, abruptly. " Suggest 
 something else." 
 
 " Well, of course, these come in a far less important category ; but 
 the style of your living, the maintenance of a house befitting your rank 
 and property, the reception of your country neighbours — all these are 
 duties." 
 
 " I am very ignorant of forms," said Cashel, haughtily; "but I opine 
 that if a man spare no money, that with a good cook, a good cellar, a 
 good stable, and ^ carte blanche' horn the owner to make free with every 
 thing, these duties are not very difficult to perform." 
 
 Had Mr. Kennyfeck known more of such matters, he might have 
 told him that something was still wanting — that something, which can 
 throw its perfume of good breeding and elegance over the humble dinner- 
 party in a cottage, and yet be absent from the gorgeous splendour of a 
 banquet in a palace. Mr. Kennyfeck did not know this, so he accorded 
 his fullest assent to CasheFs opinion. 
 
 " What comes next," said Roland, impatiently, " for as I am neither 
 
90 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 politician nor country gentlemen, nor can I make a pursuit of mere hos- 
 pitality, I really do not see what career is open to me." 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck had been on the eve of introducing the topic of 
 marriage, when this sally suddenly routed the attempt. The man who 
 saw nothing to occupy him in politics^ property, or social intercourse 
 would scarcely deem a wife an all-sufficient ambition. Mr. Kennyfeck 
 was posed. 
 
 " I see, Sir, your task is a hard one," it is no less than to try and con- 
 form my savage tastes and habits to civilised usages — a difficult thing, I 
 am certain; however, I promise compliance with any ritual for a while. I 
 have often been told that the possession of fortune in these countries 
 imposes more restraints in the shape of duties, than does poverty else- 
 where. Let me try the problem for myself. Now, dictate, and I obey." 
 
 *' After all," said Mr. Kennyfeck, taking courage, "few men would 
 deem it a hard condition on which to find themselves master of above 
 16, 000/. a year, to enter Parliament, to keep a good house, and marry 
 — as every man in your circumstances may — the person of his choice." 
 
 **0h! Is matrimony another article of the code?" said Cashel, 
 smiling. *' Well, that is the greatest feature, because the others are 
 things to abandon, if not found to suit your temper or inclination — but 
 a wife — that does look somewhat more permanent. No matter, I'll 
 adventure all and every thing — of course, depending on your guidance 
 for the path," 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck was too happy at these signs of confidence to neglect 
 an opportunity for strengthening the ties, and commenced a very prudent 
 harangue upon the necessity of Cashel's using great caution in his first 
 steps, and not committing himself by any thing like political pledges, 
 till he had firmly decided which side to adopt. "As to society," said he, 
 ** of course you'U select those who please you most for your intimates ; but 
 in politics there are many considerations very different from mere liking. 
 Be only guarded, however, in the beginning and you risk nothing by 
 waiting." 
 
 " And as to the other count in the indictment," said Cashel, in- 
 terrupting a rather prosy dissertation about pohtical parties, ** as to the 
 other count — Matrimony I mean. I conclude, that as the world is so 
 exceedingly kind as to take a profound interest in all the sayings and 
 doings of a man with money, that perhaps it is not indifferent regard^- 
 ing so eventful a step as his Marriage. Now, pray, Mr. Kennyfeck, 
 having entered Parliament, kept open house, hunted, shot, raced, dined, 
 gambled, duelled, and the rest, to please society, how must I satisfy its 
 edgencies in this last particular ? I mean, is there any peculiar style of 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 91 
 
 lady — tall, short, brunette, or fair, dark-eyed, or blue-eyed, or what, in 
 short, is the person I must marry if I -would avoid transgressing any of 
 these formidable rules which seem to regulate every action of your lives, 
 and, if I may believe Mr. Phillis, superintend the very colour of your 
 cravat and the shape of your hat ?" 
 
 " Oh, believe me," replied Mr. Kennyfeck, with a bland persuasive- 
 ness, " fashion is only exigeant in small matters ; the really momentous 
 affairs of life are always at a man's own disposal. Whoever is fortunate 
 enough to be Mr. Cashel's choice, becomes, by the fact, as elevated above 
 envious criticisms, as she will be above the sphere where they alone 
 prevail." 
 
 " So far, that is very flattering. Now for another point. There is 
 an old shipmate of mine — a young Spanish officer — who has lived 
 rather a rakish kind of life. I'm not quite sure he has not had a brush 
 or two with our flag, for he dealt a little in ebony — you understand — 
 the slave-trade, I mean. How w^ould these fine gentlemen, I shall 
 learn to know here, receive him ? Would they look coldly and distantly 
 at him ? I should naturally msh to see him at my house, but not that 
 he might be ofl*ered any thing like slight or insult." 
 
 " I should defer it, certainly. I would recommend you not pressing 
 this visit, till you have surrounded yourself with a certain set, a party by 
 •whom you will be known and upheld." 
 
 " So then, if I understand you aright, I must obtain a kind of secu- 
 rity for my social good conduct before the world will trust me. Now, 
 this does seem rather hard, particularly as no man is guilty 'till he has 
 been convicted." 
 
 " The bail-bond is little else than a matter of form," said Mr. Kenny- 
 feck, smilmg, and glad to cap an allusion which his professional pursuits 
 made easy of comprehension. 
 
 " Well !" sighed Cashel, " I'm not quite certain that this same world 
 of yours and I shall be long friends, if even we begin as such. I have 
 all my life been somewhat of a rebel, where authority was lax enough 
 to make resistance unnecessary. How am I to get on here, hemmed in 
 and fenced by a hundred restrictions !" 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck could not explain to him that these barriers were less 
 restrictions against personal liberty than defences against aggression ; 
 so he only murmured some common places about " getting habituated" 
 and " time," and so on, and apologised for what, he in reality, might 
 have expatiated on as privileges. 
 
 " My Mistress wishes to know, Sir,*' said a footman, at this juncture, 
 " if Mr. Cashel will drive out with her ? the carriage is at the door." 
 
95 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Delighted," cried Cashel, looking at the same time most uncour- 
 teously pleased to get away from his tiresome companion. 
 
 Cashel found Mrs. Kennyfeck and her daughters seated in a hand- 
 some barouche, whose appointments, bating, perhaps, some little exube- 
 rance in display, were all perfect. The ladies, too, were most becom- 
 ingly attired, and the transition from the little cob-webbed den of the 
 solicitor to the free air and pleasant companionship, excited his spirits to 
 the utmost. 
 
 " How bored you must have been by that interview," said Mrs. Kenny- 
 feck, as they drove away. 
 
 " Why do you say so ?" said Cashel, smiling. 
 
 " You looked so weary, so thoroughly tired out, when you joined us. 
 I'm certain Mr. Kennyfeck has been reading aloud all the deeds and 
 documents of the trial, and reciting the hundred and one difficulties, 
 which his surpassing acuteness, poor, dear man ! could alone overcome." 
 
 " No, indeed you wrong him," said Roland, with a laugh, " he 
 scarcely alluded to what he might have reasonably dwelt upon with pride, 
 and what demands all my gratitude. He was rather giving me, what I 
 so much stand in need of, a little lecture on my duties and devoirs as a 
 possessor of fortune ; a code, I shame to confess, perfectly strange to me." 
 
 A very significant glance from Mrs. Kennyfeck towards the girls, 
 revealed the full measure of her contempt for the hardihood of poor Mr. 
 Kennyfeck's daring, but quickly assuming a smile, she said, *' And are 
 we to be permitted to hear what these excellent counsels were, or are 
 these what the Admiralty calls ' secret instructions.' " 
 
 " Not in the least. Mr. Kennyfeck sees plainly enough — it is but 
 too palpable — that I am as ignorant of this new world as he himself 
 should be, if dropped down suddenly in an Indian encampment, and 
 that as the thing I detest most in this life is any unnecessary notoriety, 
 I want to do, as far as in me lies, like ray neighbours. I own to you, 
 that the little sketch with which he favoured me, is not too fasci- 
 nating, but he assures me, that with time and patience and zeal, I'll get 
 over my difficulties, and make a very tolerable country gentleman." 
 
 *• But, my dear Mr. Cashel," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, with a great em- 
 phasis on the epithet, " why do you think of listening to Mr. Kenny- 
 feck on such a subject. Poor man, he takes all his notions of men and 
 manners from the Exchequer and Common Pleas." 
 
 " Papa's models are all in horse hair wigs — fat mummies in ermine !'* 
 said Miss Kennyfeck. 
 
 " When Mr. Cashel knows Lord Charles," said Olivia. 
 
 " Or Mr. Linton"— 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 93 
 
 "Or the Dean,"broke in Mrs. Kennyfeck ; "for although a Churchman, 
 his information on every subject is boundless." 
 
 Miss Kennyfeck gave a sly look towards Cashel, which very probably 
 entered a dissent to her mamma's opinion. 
 
 " If I were you," resumed she, tenderly, *' I know what I should do ; 
 coolly rejecting all their counsels, I should fashion my life as it pleased 
 myself to live, well assured that in following my bent, I should find 
 plenty of people only too happy to lend me their companionship. Just 
 reflect, for a moment, how very agreeable you can make your house, 
 without in the least compromising any taste or inclination of your own ; 
 without, in fact, occupying your mind on the subject." 
 
 "But the world," remarked Mrs. Kennyfeck, "must be cared for ! 
 It would not do for one in Mr. Cashel's station to form his associates 
 only among those whose agreeability is their recommendation." 
 
 " Then let him know the Dean, mamma," said Miss Kennyfeck, slily. 
 
 " Yes, my dear," rejoined Mrs. Kennyfeck, not detecting the sarcasm. 
 " I cannot fancy one more capable of affording judicious counsel. — You 
 spoke about ordering plate, Mr. Cashel, but of course you will apply to 
 Storr and Mortimer ; every thing is so much better in London ; other- 
 wise, here we are at Leonard's." 
 
 The carriage drove up, as she spoke, to the door of a very splendid 
 looking shop, where in all the attractive display modern taste has in- 
 vented, plate and jewellery glittered and dazzled. 
 
 " It was part of Mr. Kennyfeck's counsel, this morning," said Cashel, 
 "that I should purchase any thing I want, in Ireland, so far at least as 
 practicable ; so, if you will aid me in choosing, we'll take the present 
 opportunity." 
 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck was overjoyed at the bare mention of such an occa- 
 sion of display, and sailed into the shop, with an air that spoke, plain as 
 words themselves, " I'm come to make your fortune." So palpable 
 indeed was the manner of her approach, that the shopman hastily 
 retired to seek the proprietor of the establishment, a little pompous man, 
 with a bald head, who, having a great number of "bad debts" among his 
 high clients, had taken to treating great folk with a very cool assump- 
 tion of equality. 
 
 "' Mr. Cashel is come to look about some plate, Mr. Leonard. Let 
 us see your book of drawings ; and have you those models you made for 
 Lord Kellorane ?" 
 
 " We have better, ma'am," said Leonard. " We have the plate 
 Itself. If you will step up-stairs. — It is all laid out on the tables : the 
 fact is " — here he dropped his voice — " his Lordship's marriage with 
 
94 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Miss Fenchurch is broken off, and he will not want the plate, and we 
 have his orders to sell it at once." 
 
 "And is that beautiful pony phaeton, with the two black Arabians, to 
 be sold ?" asked Miss Kenny feck, eagerly. " He only drove them once, 
 I think." 
 
 " Yes, madam, every thing : they are all to be auctioned at Dycer's, 
 to-day." 
 
 " At what hour ?" inquired Cashel. 
 
 " At three, precisely, Sir." 
 
 *' Then it wants but five minutes of the time," said Cashel, looking at 
 his watch. 
 
 " But the plate. Sir 1 such an opportunity may never occur again," 
 broke in Leonard, fearful of seeing his customer depart unprofitably. 
 
 '• Oh, to be sure. Let us see it," said Cashel, as he handed Mrs. 
 Kenny feck up -stairs. 
 
 An exclamation of surprise and delight burst from the party, at the 
 magnificent display which greeted them on entering the room. How 
 splendid — what taste — how very beautiful — so elegant— so massive — so 
 chaste, and fifty other encomiastic phrases. 
 
 " Very fine, indeed, Ma'am," chimed in Leonard, " cost fifteen and 
 sevenpence an ounce throughout, and now to be sold for thirteen shil- 
 lings." 
 
 *' What is the price ?" said Cashel, in a low whisper. 
 
 " There are, if I remember aright. Sir, but I'll ascertain in a moment, 
 eight thousand ounces." 
 
 " I want to know the sum in one word ?" rejoined Cashel, hastily. 
 
 " It will be something like three thousand, seven hundred and — " 
 
 " Well, say three thousand, seven hundred, it is mine." 
 
 " These ice-pails are not included. Sir." 
 
 " Well, send them also, and let me know the price. — How handsome 
 that brooch is. Let me see it on your velvet dress, Mrs. Kennyfeck. 
 Yes, that really looks well ; pray let it remain there." 
 
 " Oh, I could not think of such a thing. It is far too costly. It is 
 the most splendid — " 
 
 " You'll not refuse me, I hope, a first request. Madam," said he, with 
 a half-offended air. 
 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck, really overwhelmed by the splendour of the gift, 
 complied with a reluctant shame. 
 
 " These are the diamonds that were ordered for the bride," said 
 Leonard, opening a jewel casket, and exhibiting a most magnificent 
 suite. 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. x 95 
 
 " Oh, how sorry she must be," cried Miss Kennyfeck, as she sur- 
 veyed the glittering mass. 
 
 " If she loved him," murmured Olivia, in a low whisper, as if to her- 
 self, but overheard by Cashel, who kept his eyes towards her, with an 
 expression of deep interest. 
 
 '* If the Gentleman stood in need of such a set," said Leonard, " I am 
 empowered to dispose of them at the actual cost. It is old Mr. Fen- 
 church who suffers all the loss, and he can very well afford it. As a 
 wedding present. Sir — " 
 
 " But I am not going to be married, that I know of," said Cashel, 
 smiling. 
 
 " Perhaps not this week, Sir, or the next," rejoined the self-sufficient 
 jeweller ; " but, of course, that time will come. Two thousand pounds 
 for such a suite is positively getting them a present, to break them up 
 and reset them." 
 
 " How shocking !" cried Miss Kennyfeck. 
 
 " Yes, Madam ; but what is to be done, they only suit large fortunes 
 in their present form ; these, unfortunately, are very rare with us." 
 
 " A quarter-past three," exclaimed Cashel ; " we shall be too late." 
 
 " And the diamonds, Sir," said Leonard, following him down stairs. 
 
 " Do you think them so handsome ?" said Cashel to Olivia, as she 
 walked at his side. 
 
 " Oh, they are most beautiful," replied she, with a bashful falling of 
 her eyelids. 
 
 " I'll take them also," whispered Cashel to Leonard, who, for per- 
 haps the only time for years past, accompanied the party, bare-headed, 
 to their carriage, and continued bowing till they drove away. 
 
 " Dycer's," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, *' and as fast as you can." 
 
 With all their speed they came too late. The beautiful equipage had 
 been already disposed of, and was driving from the gate as they drew up. 
 
 " How provoking ! — how terribly provoking !" exclaimed Mrs. Kenny- 
 feck. 
 
 " I declare, I think them handsomer than ever," said Miss Kennyfeck, 
 as she surveyed the two well-matched and highly bred ponies. 
 
 "Who bought them?" asked Mrs. Kennyfeck. 
 
 " I am the fortunate individual, or rather the unhappy one, who 
 excites such warm regrets," said Mr. Linton, as he lounged on the door 
 of the carriage. "I would I were Rothschild, or liis son, or his godson, 
 to beg your acceptance of them.'' 
 
 " What did you give for them, Mr. Linton ?" asked Mrs. Kennyfeck. 
 
 " How unfair to ask ; and you, too, who understand these things so 
 well." 
 
96 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " I want to purchase them," said she, laughing, ^' that was my 
 reason." 
 
 " To you, then, the price is what I have just paid, a hundred and 
 fifty." 
 
 '' How cheap !" 
 
 " Absolutely for nothing. I bought thera on no other account. I 
 really do not want such an equipage." 
 
 " To be serious, then," resumed Mrs. Kennyfeck, "^ we came here with 
 Mr. Cashel to purchase them, and just arrived a few minutes too late." 
 
 *' Quite early enough to allow of my being able to render you a slight 
 service ; without, however, the satisfaction of its having demanded any 
 effort from me. Will you present me to Mr. Cashel ?" The gentlemen 
 bowed and smiled, and Linton resumed. " If you care for the ponies, 
 Mr. Cashel, I am delighted to say, they are at your service. I really 
 bought them, as I say, because they were going for nothing." Cashel 
 did not know how to return the generosity, but accepted the offer, 
 trusting that time would open an occasion to repay the favour. 
 
 '' Shall I send them home to you, or will you drive them ?" 
 
 " Will you venture to accompany me ?" said Cashel, turning to 
 Olivia Kennyfeck ; who, seeing at once the impropriety of a proposal, 
 which Roland's ignorance of the world alone could have committed, 
 was silent and confused. 
 
 " Are you afraid, my dear ?" inquired Mrs. Kennyfeck, to show 
 that all other objections might be waived. 
 
 " Oh no, mamma, if you are not." 
 
 " The ponies are perfectly quiet/' said Linton. 
 
 " I'm certain nothing will happen," said Miss Kennyfeck, with a most 
 significant glance at her sister. 
 
 *' Take care of her, Mr. Cashel," said the mamma, as Roland handed 
 the blushing girl to her place. " I have never trusted her in any one's 
 charge before, and if I had not such implicit confidence"— before the 
 sentence was finished, the ponies sprang forward in a trot, the equipage 
 in a moment fled and disappeared from view. 
 
 " A fine young fellow, he seems to be," said Linton, as he raised his hat 
 in adieu, *' and so frank, too !" There was a something in his smile 
 that looked too intelligent, but Mrs. Kennyfeck affected not to notice it, 
 as she said " Good bye." 
 
ROLAXD CASHEL. 97 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " There were lords and ladies — I saw myself — 
 A duke with his Garter, a knight with his Guelph. 
 ' Orders' — as bright as the eye could see, 
 The ' Golden Fleece,' and the ' Saint Esprit ;' 
 Black Eagles, and Lions, and even a Lamb, 
 Such an odd-looking thing — from the great ' Xizam ;' 
 Shamrocks and Thistles there were in a heap. 
 And the Legion of Honour from ' Louis Philippe,' 
 So I asked myself— Does it not seem queer. 
 What can bring this goodly company here ?" 
 
 " Mrs. Thokpe's Fete at Twickenham." 
 
 Although Mrs. Kennyfeck's company were invited for seven o'clock, 
 it was already something more than half-past, ere the first guest made 
 his appearance ; and he, found Jiimself alone in the drawing-room ; 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck, who was a very shrewd ohserver of every thing in 
 high hfe, having remembered, that it twice occurred to herself and Mr. 
 K. to have arrived the first at the Secretary's " Lodge," in the Park, 
 and that the noble hostess did not descend till at least, some two or three 
 others had joined them. 
 
 The " first man " to a dinner, is the next most miserable thing to the 
 "last man" at leaving it. The cold air of solitude, the awkwardness 
 of seeming too eager to be punctual, the certainty almost inevitablcj 
 that the next person who arrives is perfectly odious to you, and that you 
 will have to sustain a tete-a-tete, with the man of all others you disliked 
 all these are the agreeables of the first man ; but he who now had ta 
 sustain them, was, happily, indifferent tp their tortures. He was an old, 
 very deaf gentleman, who had figured at the dinner tables of the 
 Capital for half a century, on no one plea, that any one could discover, 
 save that he was a " Right Honourable." The privilege of sitting at 
 the Council, had conferred the far pleasanter one of assisting at dinners, 
 and his political career if not very ambitious, had been, what few men 
 can say, unruffled. 
 
 He seated himself then, in a very well-cushioned chair, and with that 
 easy smile of benevolent meaning, which certain deaf people assume as a 
 counterpoise for the want of colloquial gifts ; prepared to be, or at least to 
 look, a very agreeable old gentleman to the next arrival. A full quarter 
 
98 ROLAND CASHEL, 
 
 of an hour passed over, without any thing to break the decorous stillness 
 of the house ; when suddenly the door was thrown wide, and the butler 
 announced Sir Harvey Upton and Captain Jennings. These were two 
 hussar officers, who entered with that admirable accompaniment of 
 clinking sabres, sabre -tashes, and spurs, so essential to a cavalry ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 " Early, by Jove !" cried one approaching the mirror, over the chimney- 
 piece, and arranging his moustaches, perfectly unmindful of the presence 
 of the Right Honourable who sat near it. 
 
 " They are growing worse and worse in this house, I think," cried the 
 other. " The last time I dined here, we sat down at a quarter to nine." 
 "It's all Linton's fault," drawled out the first speaker; "he told a 
 story about Long Wellesley asking some one for " ten," and apologising 
 for an early dinner, as he had to speak in the House, afterwards. Who 
 is here ? neat steppers, those horses !" 
 
 *' It is KilgoflP, and his new wife, — do you know her ?" 
 " No ; she's not one of those pale girls we used to ride with at 
 Leamington ?" 
 
 There was no time for reply, when the names were announced, Lord 
 and Lady Kilgoff ! and a very weakly looking old man, with a blue 
 inside vest, and enormous diamond studs in his shirt, entered, supporting 
 a very beautiful young woman, whose proud step, and glancing eye, 
 were strange contrasts to his feeble and vacant expression. The hussars 
 exchanged significant but hasty glances and fell back, while the others 
 advanced up the room. 
 
 " Our excellent hostess, said my Lord," in a low, but distinct voice, 
 " will soon shame Wilton Crescent itself in late hours. I fancy it's nigh 
 eight o'clock. It's not their faults, poor things," said she, laying back 
 in a chair and disposing her magnificent dress into the most becoming- 
 folds ; " people will come late, do what one may." 
 
 " They may do so, that's very true ; but I would beg to observe, you 
 need not wait for them." This was said with a smile towards the 
 hussars, as though to imply — "there is no reason why you should not 
 express an opinion, if it agree with mine." 
 
 The Baronet immediately bowed, and smiling, so as to show a very 
 white range of teeth, beneath his dark moustache, said : " In part, I 
 agree with your Lordship ; but it requires the high hand of fashion to 
 reform the abuse." Here a most insidious glance at her Ladyship, most 
 effectually conveyed the point of his meaning. 
 
 Just then, in all the majesty of crimson velvet, Mrs. Kennyfeck 
 appeared, her comely person heaving under the accumulated splendour 
 of lace, flowers, and jewellery. Her daughters, more simply, but still 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 99 
 
 handsomely dressed, followed, Mr. Kennyfeck brioging up the rear, in 
 very evident confusion, at having torn his kid gloves, a misfortune, which 
 he was not clear, should be buried in silence, or made the subject of 
 public apology. 
 
 Lady Kilgoff received Mrs. Kennyfeck's excuses for being late, with a 
 very quiet, gentle smile; but my Lord, less given to forgiveness, held his 
 watch towards Mr. Kennyfeck, and said: " There's always an excuse for a 
 man of business. Sir, or this would be very reprehensible." Fortunately 
 for all parties the company now poured in faster, every instant saw some two 
 or three arrive : indeed, with such speed did they appear, it seemed as if 
 they had all waited for a movement en masse : Judges and Generals, 
 with nieces and daughters manifold, country gentlemen, clients ; the 
 ^Ute of Dublin diners-out, the Whites ; the Rigbys, with their ring- 
 letted girls, the young member for Macturk, the Solicitor- General 
 and Mrs. Knivett, and, at last, escorted by his staff of curates, and 
 small vicars, came " the Dean " himself, conducting a very learned dis- 
 sertation on the musical properties of the " Chickgankazoo," a three- 
 stringed instrument of an African tribe, and which he professed to 
 think, " admirably adapted for Country Congregations too poor to buy 
 an organ !" "Any one could play it. Softly could play it, Mrs. Kenny- 
 feck could " 
 
 *' How do you do, Mr. Dean ?" said that lady, in her sweetest of 
 voices. 
 
 The Dean accepted the offered hand, but without attending to the 
 salutation, went on with a very curious argument respecting the vocal 
 chords in the human throat, which he promised to demonstrate on any 
 thin lady, vq. the company. 
 
 The chief Secretary's fortunate arrival, however, rescued the devoted 
 fair one from the Dean's scientific ardour, for Mr. Meek was a great 
 personage in the chief circles of Dublin. Any ordinary manner, in com- 
 parison with Mr. Downie Meek's, would be as linsey-woolsey to three-pile 
 velvet ! There was a yielding softness, a delicious compliance about 
 him, which won him the world's esteem, and pointed him out to the 
 Cabinet as the very man to be " Secretary for Ireland." Conciliation would 
 be a weak word to express the suave but winning gentleness of his 
 official dealings. The most frank of men, he was unbounded in pro- 
 fessions, and if so elegant a person could have taken a hint from so hum- 
 ble a source, we should say, that he had made his zoological studies 
 available and imitated the cuttle-fish, since when close penned by an 
 enemy he could always escape, by muddying the water. In this great 
 dialectic of the Castlereagh school he was perfect, and could become 
 totally unintelligible at the shortest notice. 
 
 II 2 
 
100 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 After a few almost whispered words to his hostess, Mr. Meek humbly 
 requested to be presented to Mr. Casliel. Roland, who was then stand- 
 ing beside Miss Kennyfeck, and listening to a rather amusing catalogue 
 of the guests, advanced to make the Secretary's acquaintance. Mr. 
 Downie Meek's approaches were perfect, and in the few words he spoke, 
 most favourably impressed Cashel with his unpretentious, unaffected 
 demeanour. 
 
 " Are we waiting for any one, Mr. Kennyfeck r' said his spouse, with 
 a delicious simplicity of voice. 
 
 ** Oh, certainly!" exclaimed her less accomplished husband, " Sir 
 Andrew and Lady Janet McFarlane, and Lord Charles Frobisher, have 
 not arrived." 
 
 '•' It appears to we," a favourite expression of his Lordship, with a 
 strong emphasis on the pronoun, " it appears to wie," said Lord Kilgoff, 
 *' that Sir Andrew McFarlane waits for the tattoo at the Royal Barrack, 
 to dress for dinner ;" and he added somewhat lower, " I made a vow, 
 which I regret to have broken to-day, never to dine wherever he is 
 invited." 
 
 " Here they come! here they come at last," cried out several voices 
 together, as the heavy tread of carriage horses were heard advancing, 
 and the loud summons of the footman resounded through the 
 square. 
 
 Sir Andrew and Lady Janet McFarlane, were announced in Mr. 
 Pearse's most impressive manner, and then, after a slight pause, as if to 
 enable the company to recover themselves from the shock of such august 
 names, Lord Charles Frobisher and Captain Foster. 
 
 Sir Andrew was a tall, raw-boned, high-cheeked old man, with a 
 white head, red nose, and a very Scotch accent, whose manners after 
 forty years' training-, still spoke of the time that he carried a halbard in 
 the " Black Watch." Lady Janet was a little, grim-faced, gray-eyed old 
 lady, with a hunch, who with a most inveterate peevishness of voice, 
 and a most decided tendency to make people unhappy, was the terror of 
 the garrison. 
 
 '* We hae na kept ye waitin, Mrs. Kannyfack, I humbly hope," said 
 Sir Andrew. 
 
 " A good forty minutes, Sir Andrew," broke in Lord Kilgoff, show- 
 ing his watch ; " but you are always the last." 
 
 *' He was not recorded as such in the official despatch from ' Maida,* 
 my Lord," said Lady Janet, fiercely ; " but with some people there is 
 more virtue in being early at dinner, than first up the breach, in an 
 assault !" 
 
 " The siege will always keep hot, my Lady," interposed a verj' well 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 101 
 
 whiskered gentleman in a blue coat, and two inside-waistcoats, " the 
 soup will not." 
 
 '' Ah! Mr. Linton,'' said she, holding out two fingers. " Why weren't 
 you at our pic-nic?" then she added lower ; *' give me your arm in to 
 dinner. I can't bear that tiresome old man." Linton bowed and 
 seemed delighted, while a scarcely perceptible motion of the brows, 
 conveyed an apology to Miss Kennyfeck. 
 
 Dinner was at length announced, and after a little of what Sir An- 
 drew called " Clubbing the Battalions," they descended in a long 
 procession. Cashel, after vainly assaying to secure either of the Kenny- 
 feck girls as his companion, being obliged to pair off with Mrs. White, 
 the lady who always declined, but never failed to come. 
 
 It is a singular fact in the physiology of Amphytrionism, that second 
 class people can always succeed in a "great dinner," though they fail 
 egregiously in all attempts at a small party. We reserve the reason for 
 another time, to record the fact, that Mrs. Kennyfeck's table was both 
 costly and splendid : the soups were admirable, the Madeira perfect in 
 flavour, the pates as hot, and the Champagne as cold, the fish as fresh, 
 and the venison as long kept, the curry as high seasoned, and the pine- 
 apple ice as delicately simple, as the most refined taste could demand. 
 The material enjoyments were provided with elegance and abundance, 
 and the guests — the little chagrin of the long waiting over — all disposed 
 to be chatty and agreeable. 
 
 Like a tide first breaking on a low strand, in small and tiny ripples, 
 then gradually coming bolder in, with courage more assured, and greater 
 force, the conversation of a dinner usually runs ; till at last at the high 
 flood, the great waves tumble madly one upon another, and the wild 
 chorus of the clashing water wakes up " the spirit of the storm." 
 
 Even without the aid of the " Physiologic du Gout," people will talk of 
 eating while they eat, and so the chit-chat was cuisine in all its moods 
 and tenses, each bringing to the common stock some new device in 
 cookery, and some anecdotes of his travelled experience in " gourman- 
 dise," and while Mr. Linton and Lord Charles celebrated the skill of the 
 " Cadran," or the Schwan at Vienna, " the Dean" was critically ex- 
 plaining to poor Mrs. Kennyfeck, that Homer's heroes had probably 
 the most perfect rotis that ever were served, the juices of the meat 
 being preserved in such large masses. 
 
 " Soles, with a ' gratin' of fine gingerbread, I saw at Metternich's," 
 said Mr. Linton, " and they were excellent." 
 
 *' I like old Jules Perrignan's idea better, what he calls his cotelettes 
 a la financiered* 
 
 " What are they ? I never tasted them." 
 
102 ROLAND CASHEL* 
 
 " Very good mutton cutlets, en papilotfe, the envelopes being billets 
 de Banque of a thousand francs each." 
 
 " Is it permitted to help one's self twice, my Lord?'' 
 
 '* I called for the dish again, but found it had been too successful. 
 De Brigues did a neat thing that way, in a little supper he gave to the 
 artistes of the Opera Coraique ; the jellies were all served with rings in 
 them. Tourquoise, diamond, emerald, pearl, and so on, so that the fair 
 guests had all the excitement of a lottery, as the plat came round to 
 them." 
 
 " The kick-shaws required something o' that kind to make them en- 
 durable," said Sir Anrdew, gruffly ; "gie me a haggis, or a cockie- 
 lekie.'' 
 
 " What is that ?" said Miss Kennyfeck, who saw with a sharp malice how 
 angrily Lady Janet looked at the notion of the coming explanation. 
 
 " I'll tell ye wi pleasure, Miss Kannyfack, hoo to mak' a Cockie 
 Leekie !'" 
 
 " Cockie Leekie, unde derivaiur Cockie Leekie?" cried the Dean, 
 who having taken a breathing canter through Homer and Horace, was 
 quite ready for the moderns. 
 
 " What, Sir ?" asked Sir Andrew, not understanding the question. 
 
 " I say, what's the derivation of your Cockie Leekie — the etymology 
 of the phrase ?" 
 
 " I dinna ken, an' I dinna care. It's mair needfu' that one kens 
 hoo to mak' it, than to speer wha gave it the name Cockie Leekie." 
 
 " More properly pronounced, Coq a lecher,'^ said the inexorable 
 Dean. " The dish is a French one!" 
 
 " Did ever any one hear the like ?" exclaimed Sir Andrew, utterly 
 confounded by the assertion. 
 
 " I confess. Sir Andrew," said Linton, " it's rather hard on Scotland. 
 They say you stole all your ballad music from Italy, and now, they claim 
 your cookery for France !" 
 
 " The record," said the Attorney- General across the table, " was tried 
 at Trim. Your Lordships sat with the Chief Baron." 
 
 " I remember, perfectly, we agreed that the King's Bench ruled 
 right, and that the minors' claim was substantiated." — Then turning to 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck, who, out of politeness, had affected to take interest in 
 what she could not even understand a syllable of, he entered into a very 
 learned dissertation on "heritable property," and the great difficulties 
 that.lay in the way of defining its limits. 
 
 Meanwhile, "Pipeclay," as is not unsuitably styled mess-table talk, 
 passed among the military, with the usual quizzing about regimental 
 oddities. Brownrigg's cob — Hanshaw's whiskers — Talbot's buggy — 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 103 
 
 and Carey's inimitable recipe for punch. The Dean, throwing in his 
 negatives here and there, to show that nothing was " too hot or too 
 heavy,'' for his intellectual fingers. 
 
 "Bad law! Mr. Chief Justice," said he, in an authoritative tone, 
 "Doves in a cot, and coneys in a warren, go to the heir. With respect 
 to deer"— 
 
 " Oh dear, how tiresome I" whispered Mrs. White to Cashel, who 
 most heartily assented to the exclamation. 
 
 ^' What's the name o' that beastie, young gentlemen ?" said Sir 
 Andrew, who overheard Cashel recounting some circumstances of Mex- 
 ican life. 
 
 " The Chiguire, the wild hog of the Caraccas," said Cashel. '* They 
 are a harmless sort of animals, and lead somewhat an unhappy life of 
 it ; for when they escape the crocodile in the river, they are certain to 
 fall into the jaws of the Jaguar on land." 
 
 " Pretty much like a member o' the Scotch Kirk in Ireland," said Sir 
 Andrew, "wi' Episcopaalians on the tae haun, and Papishes on the 
 tither. Are thae creatures gude to eat. Sir?" 
 
 " The flesh is excellent," broke in the Dean. "They are the Cavia'Ca- 
 pyhara of Linnseus, and far superior to our European swine." 
 
 " I only know," said Cashel, abruptly, " that loe never eat them, ex- 
 cept when nothing else was to be had. They are rancid and fishy." 
 
 *' A mere prejudice. Sir," responded the Dean, "If you taste the 
 Chiguire, to use the vulgar name, and let him lie in steep in a white 
 wine vinegar, en marinade^ as the French say — " 
 
 " Where are you to find the white wine vinegar, in the Savannahs," 
 said Cashel. " You forget, Sir, that we are speaking of a country, 
 where a fowl roasted in his own feathers is a delicacy." 
 
 " Oh, how very singular ! Do you mean that you eat it, feathers and 
 all?" said Mrs. White. 
 
 " No, Madam. It's Prairie dish ; which I assure you, after all, is not 
 to be despised. The 'plat is made this way. You take a fowl — the 
 wild turkey, when lucky enough to find one, and cover him all over 
 with soft red clay : the river clay is the best. You envelop him com- 
 pletely ; in fact, you make a great ball, somewhat the size of a 
 man's head. This done, you light a fire, and bake the mass. It re- 
 quires, probably, five or six hours to make the clay perfectly hard and 
 dry. When it cracks, the dish is done. You, then, break open the 
 shell, to the outside of which the feathers adhere, and the fowl, deli" 
 ciously roasted, stands before you." 
 
 " How very excellent — le poulet hraisse of the French, exactly," 
 said Lord Kilgoff. 
 
104 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 "How cruel!" "how droll!" "how very shocking!" resounded 
 through the table. 
 
 The Dean, the only one silent, for it was a theme on which, most 
 singular to say, he could neither record a denial or a correction. 
 
 " I vote for a Pic-nic," cried Mrs. White, " and that Mr. Cashel 
 shall cook us his Dinde a la Mexicainer 
 
 " An excellent thought," said several of the younger part of the 
 company. 
 
 " A very bad one, in my notion," said Lord KilgofiP, who had no 
 fancy for seeing her ladyship scaling cliffs, and descending steep paths, 
 when his own frail limbs did not permit of accompanying her. " Pic- 
 nics are about as vulgar a pastime as one can imagine. Your dinner is 
 ever a failure ; your wine detestable ; your table equipage arrives 
 smashed, or topsy-turvy — " 
 
 " Unde topsy-turvy? — unde topsy-turvy, Softly ?" said the Dean, 
 turning fiercely on the Curate. " Whence topsy-turvy ? Do you give 
 it up ? Do you, Mr. Attorney .^ Do you, my Lord ? do you give it 
 up, eh ? I thought so I Topsy-turvy, quasi, top side t' other way." 
 
 " It's vera ingenious," said Sir Andrew ; " but I maun say, I see 
 no needcessity to be always looking back to whare a word gat his birth, 
 parentage, or eddicatlon." 
 
 " It suggests unpleasant associations," said Lord Kilgoff, looking ma- 
 liciously towards Linton, who was playing too agreeable to her Ladyship. 
 " The etymology is the key to the true meaning. Sir, many of those 
 expressions, popularly termed Bulls — " 
 
 " Oh, apropos of Bulls !" said Mr. Meek, in his sweetest accent. 
 " Did you hear of a very singular outrage committed yesterday upon 
 the Lord Lieutenant's beautiful Swiss bull ?" 
 
 " Did the Dean pass an hour with him ?" whispered Linton, to Lady 
 Janet, who hated the dignitary. 
 
 " It must have been done by Mesmerism, I fancy," rejoined Mr. Meek. 
 "The animal, a most fierce one, was discovered lying in his paddock, so 
 perfectly fettered, head, horns, and feet, that he could not stir. There 
 is every reason to connect the outrage with a political meaning, for in this 
 morning's paper. The Green Isle, there is a letter from Mr. O'Bleather, 
 with a most significant allusion to the occurrence. * The time is not 
 distant,' says he, *when John Bull,' — mark the phrase — 'tied, fettered, 
 and trammelled, shall lie prostrate at the feet of the once victim of his 
 tyranny.' " 
 
 ** The sedition is most completely proven by the significance of the 
 act," cried out the Chief Justice. 
 
 " We have, consequently, offered a reward for the discovery of the 
 
« ♦ 
 
CQ 
 
 
 O 
 
 CD 
 P 
 
BOLAND CASHEL. 105 
 
 perpetrators of this insolent offence, alike a crime against property, as 
 an act subversive of the respectful feeling* due to the representative of 
 the Sovereign." 
 
 •* What is the amount offered?"' said Cashel. 
 
 *' One hundred pounds, for such information as may lead to the con- 
 viction of the person or persons transgressing-," replied the Attorney- 
 General. 
 
 '' I feel it woidd be very unfair to suffer the Government to proceed 
 in an error, as to the affair in question ; so that I shall claim the re- 
 ward, and deliver up the offender," replied Cashel, smiling. 
 
 *' Who can it be ?" cried Mr. Meek, in astonishment. 
 
 *' Myself, Sir,'' said Cashel. " If you should proceed by indictment, 
 as you speak of, I hope the Misses Kennyfeck may not have to figure 
 as ' aiding and abetting,* for they were present when I lasso'd the 
 animal." 
 
 " Lasso'd the Swiss bull !" exclaimed several, together. 
 
 " Nothing more simple," said the Dean, holding up his napkin, over 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck's head, to the manifest terror of that lady, for her 
 yellow turban. "You take the loop of a long light rope, and, measuring 
 the distance with your eye, you make the cast, in this manner — " 
 
 *' Oh, dear! oh, Mr. Dean ; my bird-of-paradise plume!" 
 
 *' AVhen you represent a bull, Ma'am, you should not have feathers," 
 rejoined the implacable Dean, with a very rough endeavour to restore 
 the broken plume. " Had you held your head lower down, in the atti- 
 tude of a bull's attack, I should have lasso'd you at once, and without 
 difficulty." 
 
 "Lasso, is part of the verb 'to weary,' 'to fatigue,' 'to ennuyer^ 
 in fact," said Mr. Linton, with an admirably-put-on simplicity, and a 
 very general smile ran through the company. 
 
 " When did you see Gosford ?" said Meek, addressing one of the 
 Hussar officers, eager to relieve the momentary embarrassment. 
 
 " Not for six months, he's in Paris now." 
 
 *• Does he mention me in his letter to you ?" 
 
 '• He does," said the other, but with an evident constraint, and a side 
 look as he ended. 
 
 " Yes, faith, he forgets nane of us," said Sir Andrew, with a grin. 
 " He asks after Kannyfack, ould sax-and-eightpence, he ca's you, and 
 says, he wished you were at Paris, to gie him a dinner at the, what d'ye 
 ca it. The Roshy de something. I see he has a word for ye, my Lord 
 Kilgoff, He wants to know whether my Leddie is like to gie ye an 
 heir to the ancient house o' Kilgoff, in whilk case he'll no be so fond of 
 playing ecarte wi George Lushington, wha has naething to pay wi ex- 
 
106 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 cept post-0 -bits on yer Lordship, he, he, he ! Ay, and Charlie, my 
 man," continued he, turning" to the aide-de-camp, Lord Charles Fro- 
 bisher, *' he asks if ye hauld four by honors as often as ye used for- 
 merly ; he says there's a fellow at Paris, ye couldn't hold a candle to : 
 he never deals the adversary a card higher than the nine." 
 
 The whole company, probably in relief to the evident dismay created 
 by the allusion to Lord Kilgoff, laughed heartily at this sally, and none 
 more than the good-looking fellow, the object of it. 
 
 " But what of Meek, Sir ; what does he say of Downie ?" 
 
 *' He says vera little about Mister Meek ava : he only inquires what 
 changes we have in the poleetical world, and where is that d — dhumbug, 
 Downie Meek ?" 
 
 Another and a heartier laugh now ran through the room, in which 
 Mr. Downie Meek cast the most imploring looks around him. 
 
 *' Well," cried he, at last, " that's not fair ; it is really not fair of 
 Gosford. I appeal to this excellent company if I deserve the title." 
 
 A chorus of negatives went the round, with most energetic assurances 
 of dissenting from the censure of the letter. 
 
 " Come now, Sir Andrew," said Meek, who, for once, losing his ba- 
 lance, would not even omit him in the number of approving voices. 
 " Come now, Sir Andrew, I ask you frankly, am I a humbug?" 
 
 ** I canna tell," said the cautious old General, with a sly shake of the 
 head. " I can only say, Sir, be ma saul, ye never humbugged me .'" 
 
 This time the laugh was sincere, and actually shook the table. Mrs. 
 Kennyfeck, who now saw that Sir Andrew, to use the phrase employed 
 by his acquaintances, " was up," determined to withdraw, and made her 
 telegraphic signals, which soon were answered along the line, save by Lady 
 Janet, who stubbornly adhered to her glass of claret, with some faint 
 hope that the lagging decanter might arrive in her neighbourhood, time 
 enough for another. 
 
 Poor Mrs. Kennyfeck's devices to catch her eye, were all in vain, as 
 well might some bore of the " House" hope for the Speaker's when he 
 was fixedly exchanging glances with *' Sir Robert." She ogled and 
 smiled, but to no purpose. 
 
 " My Leddy — Leddy Janet," said Sir Andrew. 
 
 " I hear you. Sir; I heard you twice already. If you please, my 
 Lord, a very little. — Mr. Linton I beg for the water. — 1 believe Sir 
 Andrew you have forgotten Mr. Gosford's kind remembrances to the 
 Dean." 
 
 " Faith, and so I did, my Leddy. — He asks after ye, Mr. Dean, wi 
 muckle kindness and affection, and says he never had a hearty laugh 
 
KOLAJ^D CASHEL. 107 
 
 syne the day ye tried to teach Lady Caroline Jedyard to catch a 
 sheep !" 
 
 The Dean looked stem, and Linton asked for the secret. 
 
 " It was by handing the beast atween yer knees, and so when the 
 Dean pit himsel i' the proper position, wi his legs out, and the shepherd 
 drove the flock towards him, by sair ill-luck, it was a ram cam first, 
 and he hoisted his Reverence up i' the air, and then laid him flat on his 
 back, amaist dead! Ech, Sirs ! but it was a sair fa, no to speak o' the 
 damage done to his black breeches." 
 
 This was too much for Lady Janet's endurance, and amid the loud 
 laughter of some, and the more difficultly suppressed mirth of others, the 
 ladies arose. 
 
 " Yer na going, leddies ! I hope that naething T said — Leddy Kilgoff, 
 Leddy Janet, ech. We mun e'en console ourselves wie the claret:" this 
 was said sotto, as the door closed and the party reseated themselves at 
 the table. 
 
 " My Jo Janet, does like to bide a wee," muttered he, half-aloud. 
 
 "Jo!" cried the Dean, "is derived from the Italian; it's a term 
 of endearment in both languages. It's a corruption of Gioia 
 mia.^' 
 
 " What may that mean ?" 
 
 "My joy! my life!" 
 
 " Eh, that's it, is it? Ah, Sir, these derivatives gat mony a twist 
 and turn, in the way from one land to the tither !" and with this pro- 
 found bit of moralising he sipped his glass in reverie. 
 
 The conversation now became more general, fewer personalities arose, 
 and as the Dean, after a few efforts to correct statements respecting the 
 " pedigrees of race-horses," " the odds at hazard," "the soundings upon 
 the coral reefs," "the best harpoons for the sulphur-bottomed whales," only 
 made new failures, he sulked and sat silent, permitting talk to take its 
 course uninterrupted. The Hussar Baronet paid marked attention to 
 Cashel, and invited him to the mess for the day following. Lord Charles 
 overheard the invitation, and said, " I'll join the party." While Mr. 
 Meek, leaning over the table, in a low whisper, begged Cashel to pre- 
 serve the whole bull adventure a secret, as the press was really a most 
 malevolent thing in Ireland ! 
 
 During the while the Chief Justice slept profoundly, only waking as 
 the bottle came before him, and then dropping off again. The At- 
 torney-General, an overworked man of business, spoke little and guard- 
 edly, so that the conversation, principally left to the younger members 
 of the party, ranged over the accustomed topics of hunting, shooting. 
 
108 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 and deer stalking, varied by allusion on Cashel's part, to sports of far 
 higher because more dangerous excitement. 
 
 In the pleasant flurry of being attentively listened to — a new sen- 
 sation for Roland — he arose, and ascended to the drawing-room, where 
 already a numerous party of refreshers had arrived. Here again Cashel 
 discovered that he was a person of notoriety; and as, notwithstanding all 
 Mr. Downie Meek's precaution, the " Lasso " story had got abroad, the most 
 wonderful versions of the incident were repeated on every side. 
 
 " How did you say he effected it^ Mr. Linton," said the old deaf 
 Countess of Dumdrum, making an ear- trumpet of her hand. 
 
 " Cy doing wliat Mr. Meek won't do with the Catholics, my Lady, 
 taking the bull by the horns.'' 
 
 " Don't you think he found conciliation of service besides ?" sug- 
 gested Mr. Meek, with an angelic simplicity. 
 
 " Isn't he handsome ! how graceful ! So like a Corsair — one of 
 Byron's heroes. I'm dying to know him. Dear me, how those Kenny- 
 feck girls eat him up. Olivia never takes her eyes off him. He looks 
 so bored, poor fellow ! he's longing to be let alone." Such were the 
 muttered comments on the nev/ object of Dublin curiosity, who himself 
 was very far from susp3cting that his personal distinction had less share 
 in his popularity than his rent-roll and his parchments. 
 
 As we are more desirous of recording the impression he himself 
 created, that of tracing how others appeared to him, we shall make a 
 noiseless turn of the salons, and, spy-fashion, listen behind the chairs. 
 
 " So you don't think him even good-looking, Lady Kilgoff," said 
 Mr. Linton, as he stood half behind her seat. 
 
 " Certainly not more than good-looking, and not so much as nice 
 looking, — very awkward and ill at ease he seems." 
 
 " That will wear ofF, when he has the good taste to give up talking 
 to young ladies, and devote himself to the married ones." 
 
 " Enchanting, positively enchanting, my dear," exclaimed Mrs. Lei- 
 cester White to a young friend beside her. " That description of the 
 forest, over which the Liana's formed an actual roof, the golden fruit 
 hanging a hundred feet above the head, was the most gorgeous picture 
 I ever beheld." 
 
 " I wish you could persuade him," lisped a young lady with large blue 
 eyes, and a profusion of yellow hair in ringlets, to write that little story 
 of the Zambo, for Lady Blumter's Annual. 
 
 " I say, Charlie," whispered the Baronet to the Aide-de-Camp, 
 "but he's wide-awake !— that Master Cashel ; he's a very shrewd fel- 
 low, you'll see." 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 109 
 
 " Do you mean to couch his eyes, Tom ?" said Lord Charles, with his 
 usual slow, lazy intonation ; " what does he say about the races, will he 
 come ?" 
 
 " Oh, he can't promise ; old Kennyfeck has a hold upon him just 
 now about law business." 
 
 " You will impress upon him, my dear Mr. Kennyfeck," said Mr. 
 Meek, who held the lappet of the other's coat, ^'tliat there are positively — 
 so to say — but two parties in the country— the gentleman and the jacobin. 
 Whig and Tory, orange and green, have had the day ; and the 
 question is now between those who have something to lose, and those 
 who have every thing to gain." 
 
 " I really could wish, that you who are so far better qualified than I 
 am — to explain — " 
 
 " So I will — I intend, my dear Sir. Now when can you dine with me ? 
 You must come this week, next, I shall be obliged to be in London. 
 Shall we say Wednesday ? Wednesday be it. Above all, take care 
 that he doesn't even meet any of that dangerous faction — those 
 Morgans. They are the very people to try a game of ascendency over 
 a ycung man of great prospects and large fortune. O 'Growl wants a 
 few men of standing to give an air of substance and respectability to the 
 movement. Lord W itherton will be most kind to your young friend, but 
 you must press upon him the necessity of being presented at once — we 
 want to make him a D. L., and if he enters Parliament to give him the 
 Lieutenancy of the County." 
 
 While all these various criticisms w^ere circulating, and amid an 
 atmosphere, at it were, impregnated by plots and schemes of every 
 kind, Cashel stood a very amused spectator of a scene wherein he 
 never knew that he was the chief actor. It would indeed have seemed 
 incredible to him, that he could, by any change of fortune, become an 
 object of interested speculation to Lords, Ladies, Members of the Go- 
 vernment, Church Dignitaries, and others. He was unaware that the 
 man of fortune, with a hand to offer — a considerable share of the in- 
 fluence property always gives — livings to bestow, and money to lose, 
 may be a very legitimate mark for the enterpi-ising schemes of mammas 
 and ministers, suggesting hopes alike to black coats and black legs. 
 
 Perhaps, among the pleasant bits of credulity which we enjoy through 
 life, there is none sweeter than that implicit faith we repose in the cor- 
 dial expressions and flattering opinions bestowed upon us, when starting 
 in the race, by many who merely, in the jockey phrase, " standing to 
 win" upon us, have their own, and not our interest before them in the 
 encouragement they bestow. 
 
 The discovery of the cheat is soon made, and we are too prone to 
 
110 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 revenge our own over-confidence by a general distrust, from which, 
 again, experience, later on, rallies us. So that a young man's course 
 is usually from over-simplicity to over-shrewdness, and then again 
 to that negligent half- faith, which either, according to the calibre of the 
 wearer, conceals deep knowledge of life, or hides a mistaken notion of 
 it. Let us return to Cashel, who now stood at a table, around which a 
 considerable number of the party were grouped, examining a number 
 of drawings, which Mr. Pepystell, the fashionable architect, had that 
 day sent for Roland's inspection : — Houses, villas, castles, cottages, 
 abiseys, shooting boxes, gate lodges, Tudor and Saxon, Norman and 
 Saracenic, — every thing that the morbid imagination of architecture run 
 mad could devise and amalgamate, between the chaste elegance of the 
 Greek, and the tinkling absurdity of the Chinese. 
 
 " I do so love a cottage ornee," said Mrs. White, taking up a very 
 beautiful representation of one, where rose-coloured curtains, and a 
 group on a grass-plot, with gay dresses and parasols, entered into the 
 composite architecture. "To my fancy, that would be a very Pa- 
 radise." 
 
 " Oh, mamma I Isn't that so like dear old Kilgoran !" said a tall thin 
 young lady, handing an Abbey, as large as Westminster, to another in 
 widow's black. 
 
 *' Oh, Maria ! I wonder at your showing me what must bring up such, 
 sad memories !" said the mamma, affectedly, while she pressed her hand- 
 kerchief to her eyes. 
 
 " If she means her father's house," said Lady Janet to Linton, "it's 
 about as like a like as — Lord Kilgoff to the Famese Hercules ; or 
 his wife to any other Lady in the Peerage." 
 
 "You remember Kilgoran, my Lord," said the lady in black to the 
 Chief Justice ; " does that remind you of it ?" 
 
 '* Very like — very like, indeed, madam," said the old Judge, looking 
 at a rock-work grotto, in a fish pond. 
 
 " What's this ?" cried another, taking up a great Saxon fortress, with 
 bastions and gate-towers, and curtains, as gloomy and sombre as Indian 
 ink could make it. 
 
 ** As a residence, I think that is far too solemn-looking and sad." 
 
 " What did you say it was. Sir ?" asked the Judge. 
 
 " The elevation for the new gaol at Naas, my Lord," replied Linton, 
 gravely. 
 
 " I'm very glad to hear it. We have been sadly crippled for room 
 there latterly." 
 
 " Do you approve of the Panopticon plan, my Lord," said Mrs. Whit^ 
 who never omitted a question when a hard word could be introduced. 
 
ROLAI^D CASHEL. Ill 
 
 " It is, madam — you are perfectly correct," said the obsequious old 
 Judge — " very much the same kind of thing as the Pantechnicon." 
 
 *' Talking of Panopticon, where's Kilgoff ?" whispered Linton, to one 
 of the Hussars. 
 
 "Don't you see him yonder, behind the harp ? How that poor 
 woman must be bored by such espionage ! " 
 
 " If you mean to build a house, Sir," said Lady Janet, addressing 
 Cashel with a tone of authority, " don't, I entreat of you, adopt any of 
 these absurd outrages upon taste and convenience, but have a good, 
 square, stone edifice," 
 
 " Four, or even five stories high," broke in Linton, gravely. 
 
 " Four, quite enough," resumed she, " with a roomy hall, and all the 
 reception-rooms leading off it. Let your bed-rooms — " 
 
 " Be numerous enough, at all events," said Linton again. 
 
 " Of course ; and so arranged that you can devote one story to fami- 
 lies, exclusively." 
 
 " Yes ; the g argons should have their dens as remote as possible from 
 the quieter regions." 
 
 " Have a mass of small sitting rooms beside the larger salons. 
 In a country-house there's nothing like letting people form their own 
 little coteries." 
 
 " Wouldn't you have a theatre?" asked Mrs. White. 
 
 " There might be, if the circumstances admitted. But with a bil- 
 liard-room and a ball-room — " 
 
 " And a snug crib for smoking," whispered one of the military. 
 
 " I don't see any better style of house," said Linton, gravely, " than 
 these great hotels one finds on the Rhine, and in Germany generally : 
 they have ample accommodation, and are so divided that you can have 
 your own suite of rooms to yourself." 
 
 " Mathews used to keep house after that fashion," said Lord Kilgoff, 
 approaching the table. " Every one ordered his own dinner, and eat it 
 either in his own apartment or in the dining-room. You were invited 
 for four days, never more." 
 
 " That was a great error ; except in that particular I should recom- 
 mend the plan to Mr. Roland Cashel's consideration." 
 
 " I never heard of it before," said Cashel, " pray enlighten me on the 
 subject." 
 
 " A very respectable country gentleman, Sir," said Lord Kilgoff, 
 " who had the whim to see his company without paying what he 
 deemed the heaviest penalty — the fatigue of playing host. He there- 
 fore invited his friends to come and do what they pleased — eat, drink, 
 
112 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 drive, ride, play — exactly as they fancied ; only never to notice him 
 otherwise than as one of the guests." 
 
 " I like his notion prodigiously," cried Cashel, " I should be de- 
 lighted to imitate him." 
 
 " Nothing easier, Sir," said my Lord, " with Mr. Linton for your 
 Prime Minister ; the administration is perfectly practicable." 
 
 " Might I venture on such a liberty ?" 
 
 " Too happy to be President of your Council," said Linton, gaily. 
 
 A very entreating kind of look from Olivia Kennyfeck here met 
 Cashel's eyes, and he remarked that she left the place beside the table, 
 and walked into the other room ; he himself, although dying to follow 
 her, had no alternative but to remain and continue the conversation. 
 
 " The first point, then," resumed Linton, " is the house — in what 
 state is your present mansion ?" 
 
 *' A ruin, I believe," said Cashel. 
 
 " How picturesque !" exclaimed Mrs. Leicester White. 
 
 " I fancy not, madam," rejoined Cashel. " I understand it is about 
 the least prepossessing bit of stone and mortar the country can ex- 
 hibit." 
 
 " No matter, let us see it, we'll improvise something, and get it ready 
 for the Christmas holy days," said Linton. " We have — let us see — we 
 have about two months for our preparation, and, therefore, no time to 
 lose. We must premise to the honourable company, that our accom- 
 modation is of the simplest ; ' roughing' shall be the order of the day. 
 Ladles are not to look for Lyons silk ottomans in their dressing-rooms, 
 nor shall we promise that our conservatory furnish a fresh bouquet for 
 each fair guest at breakfast." 
 
 " Two months are four centuries !" said Mrs. White, '' we shall accept 
 of no apologies for any short-comings, after such an age of time to 
 prepare." 
 
 " You can have your fish from Limerick every day," said an old bluff- 
 looking gentleman in a brown wig. 
 
 *' There's a capital fellow, called Tom Cox, by the way, somewhere 
 down in that country, who used to paint our scenes for the Garrison 
 Theatricals. Could you make him out, he'd be so useful," said one of 
 the military. 
 
 " By all means, get up some hurdle racing," cried another. 
 
 Meanwhile, Roland Cashel approached Olivia Kennyfeck, who was 
 affecting to seek for some piece of music on the pianoforte. 
 
 " Why do you look so sad ?" said he, in a low tone, and seeming to 
 assist her in the search. 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 113 
 
 " Do I ?" said she, with the most graceful look of artlessness. " I'm 
 sure I didn't know it." 
 
 " There again, what a deep sigh that was ; come, pray tell me, if I 
 dare to know, what has grieved you ?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing, nothing whatever. I'm sure I never felt in better 
 spirits. Dear me I Mr. Cashel, how terrified I am, there's that dread- 
 ful Lady Janet has seen us talking together." 
 
 "Well, and what then?" 
 
 " Oh, she is so mischievous, and says such horrid, spiteful things. It 
 was she that said it — " 
 
 *' Said what — what did she say ?" cried he, eagerly. 
 
 *' Oh, what have I done !" exclaimed she, covering her face \\'ith 
 her hands. " Not for the world would I have said the words. Oh, 
 Mr. Cashel, you .who are so good and so generous, do not ask me 
 more." 
 
 " I really comprehend nothing of all this," said Cashel, who now 
 began to suspect that she had overheard some speech, reflecting upon 
 him, and had, without intending, revealed it ; " at the same time, I 
 must say, if I had the right, I should insist on knowing what you 
 heard." 
 
 " Perhaps he has the right," muttered she, half aloud, as if speaking 
 unconsciously, " I believe he has." 
 
 " Yes, yes, be assured of it ; — what were the words ?" 
 
 " Oh, I shall die of shame. I'll never be able to speak to you again ; 
 but don't look angry, promise that you'll forget them, swear you'll never 
 think of my having told them, and I'll try." 
 
 " Yes, any thing, every thing, let me hear them." 
 
 *' Well," here she hung her head, till the long ringlets fell straight from 
 her fair forehead, and half concealed the blushing cheek, which each mo- 
 ment grew redder, " I am so terrified, but you'll forgive it. — I know you 
 will. ' Well,' she said, looking towards you. " I am not acquainted with 
 this young gentleman yet, but if I should have that honour soon, I'll take 
 the liberty to tell him that the worthy father's zeal in his service is ill 
 requited by his stealing the affections of his youngest daughter.' " Scarcely 
 were the words uttered, when, as if the strength that sustained her up 
 to that moment suddenly failed, she reeled back and sank fainting on a 
 sofa. 
 
 Happily for Cashel's character for propriety, a very general rush of 
 ladies, old and young, to the spot, prevented him taking her in his arms 
 and carrying her to the balcony for air ; but a universal demand for sal 
 volatile, aromatic vinegar, open windows, and all the usual restoratives- 
 concealed his agitation, which really was extreme. 
 
 I 
 
114 BOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " You are quite well, now, dearest," said her mamma, bathing- her 
 temples, and so artistically, as to make her pale face seem even more 
 beautiful in the slight dishevelment of her hair. " It was the heat." 
 
 " Yes, mamma," muttered she, quite low. 
 
 " Hem ! I thought so," whispered Lady Janet to a neighbour. 
 " She was too warm." 
 
 " I really wish that young ladies would reserve these scenes for fitting 
 times and places. That open window has brought back my lumbago," 
 said LordKilgoff. 
 
 " The true treatment for syncope," broke in the Dean, " is not by 
 stimulants. The want of blood on the brain is produced by mechanical 
 causes, and you have merely to hold the person up by the legs — " 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Dean ! Oh, fie !" cried twenty voices, together. 
 
 " The Dean is only exemplifying his etymology on ' top side t'other 
 way,' " cried Linton. 
 
 " Lord Kilgoff 's carriage stops the way," said a servant ; and now 
 the first announcement given, a very general air of leave-taking pervaded 
 the company. 
 
 "Won't you have some more muffling? — nothing round your throat? — 
 a little negus, my Lord, before venturing into the night air. How 
 early !" — " How late !" — " What a pleasant evening !" — " What a fine 
 night !" — " May I offer you my arm — mind that step — good bye, good 
 bye — don't forget to-morrow. Your shawl is blue — that's Lady Janet's." 
 *' Which is your hat ?" — " That's not mine. Thanks — don't take so 
 much trouble." "Not your carriage, it is the next but one — mind the 
 draught." A hundred good nights, and they are gone ! So ends a 
 dinner-party, and of all the company not a vestige is seen, save the 
 blaze of the low-burned wax-lights, the faded flowers, the deranged 
 furniture, and the jaded looks of those, whose faces wreathed in smiles 
 for six mortal hours, seek at last the hard-bought and well-earned 
 indulgence of a hearty yawn ! 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 115 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " He was, the world said, a jovialTelloTr, 
 
 Who ne'er was known at Fortune to repine ; 
 
 Increasing years had rendered him more mellow, 
 
 And age improved him — as it did his wine." 
 
 " Sib Gavin Gwynne." 
 
 The Shannon, after expanding into that noble sheet of water, called 
 Lough Derg, suddenly turns to the southward and enters the valley of 
 Killaloe, one of the most beautiful tracts of country, which Ireland, 
 so rich in liver scenery, can boast. The transition from the wide lake, 
 \^'ith its sombre back ground of gray mountain and rocky islands, bleak 
 and bare, to the cultivated aspect of this favoured spot, is like that 
 experienced in passing from beneath the gloom of lowering thunder- 
 clouds, into light and joyous sunshine. Rich waving woods of every 
 tint and hue of foliage, with here and there some spreadmg lawns of 
 deepest green, clothe the mountains on either side, while in bright eddies 
 tlie rapid river glides in between, circling and winding as in playful 
 wantonness, till on the far distance it is seen passing beneath the 
 ancient bridge of Killaloe, whose cathedral towers stand out against 
 the sky. 
 
 On first emerging from the Lake, the river takes an abrupt bend, 
 round a rocky point, and then sweeping back again, in a bold curve 
 forms a little bay of deep and tranquil water, descending towards which 
 the rich meadows are seen, dotted with groups of ancient forest trees, 
 and backed by a dense skirting of timber. At one spot, where the 
 steep declivity of the ground scarce affords footing for the tall ash trees, 
 stands a little cottage, at the extremity of which is an old square tower ; 
 this is Tubber-beg. 
 
 As you sail down the river you catch but one fleeting glance at the 
 cottage, and when you look again it is gone ! The projecting head- 
 lands, with the tall trees, have hidden it, and you almost fancy, that 
 you had not seen it. If you enter the little bay however, and leaving the 
 strong current, run into the deep water under shore, you arrive at a spot 
 which your memory will retain for many a day after. 
 
 In front of the cottage, and descending by a series of terraces, to 
 which art has but little contributed, are a number of flower plats, whose 
 
 i2 
 
116 KOLAKD CASHEL. 
 
 delicious odours float over the still water, while in every gorgeous hue are 
 seen the camelia, the oleander, and the cactus, with the tulip, the ranun- 
 culus, and the carnation ; all flourishing in a luxuriance, which care, and 
 the favoured aspect of this sheltered nook combine to efi^ect. Behind 
 and around, on either side, the dark -leaved holly, the laurustina, and the 
 arbutus, are seen in all the profusion of leaf and blossom, our mild, 
 moist air secures, and forming a frame- work, in which stands the cottage 
 itself, its deep thatched eave, and porch of rustic work trellised and 
 festooned with creeping plants, almost blending its colour with the sur- 
 rounding foliage. Through the open windows a peep within displays 
 the handsomely disposed rooms, abounding in all the evidences of 
 cultivated taste and refinement. Books, in several of the modern lan- 
 guages, are scattered on the table, music, drawings of the surrounding 
 scenery, in water-colour or pencil, all that can betoken minds carefully 
 trained and exercised, and by their very diversity showing, in what a 
 world of self-stored resources their possessors must live; the easel, the 
 embroidery frame, the chess-board, the half-finished manuscript, the 
 newly-copied music, the very sprig of fern which marks the page in the 
 little volume on Botany, slight things in themselves, but revealing so 
 much of daily life ! 
 
 If the cottage be an almost ideal representation of rustic elegance and 
 simplicity, its situation is still more remarkable for beauty, for while art 
 has developed all the resources of the ground, nature, in her own boundless 
 profusion, has assembled here almost every ingredient of the picturesque, 
 and as if to impart a sense of life and motion to the stilly calm, a 
 tumbling sheet of water gushes down between the rocks, and in bounding 
 leaps descends towards the Shannon, of which it is a tributary. 
 
 A narrow path, defended by a little railing of rustic work, separates 
 the end of the cottage from the deep gorge of the waterfall, but through 
 the open window the eye can peer down into the boiling abyss of spray 
 and foam beneath, and catch a glimpse of the bridge, which, formed of 
 a fallen ash tree, spans the torrent. 
 
 Traversed in every direction by paths, some galleried along the face, 
 others cut in the substance of the rock, you can pass hours in rambling 
 among these wild and leafy solitudes, now, lost in shade, now, emerging 
 again, to see the great river gliding along, the white sails dotting its 
 calm surface. 
 
 Well did Mr. Kennyfeck observe to Roland Cashel, that this was the 
 most beautiful feature of his whole demesne, and that its possession by 
 another, not only cut him off from the Shannon in its handsomest part, 
 but actually deprived the place of all pretension to extent and grandeur. 
 The spreading woods of Tubbermore were, as it seemed, the back ground 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 117 
 
 ^o the cottage scene, and possessed no character to show that they were 
 the property of the greater proprietor. 
 
 The house itself was not likely to vindicate the claim the locality 
 denied. It was built with a total disregard to aspect or architecture. It 
 was a large four-storied edifice, to which by way of taking off from the 
 unpicturesque height, two wings had been planned ; one of these only 
 was finished, the other, half-built, had been suffered to fall into ruin. At 
 the back, a high brick wall enclosed a space intended for a garden, but 
 never put into cultivation, and now, a mere nursery of tall docks and 
 thistles, whose gigantic size almost overtopped the wall. All the dirt 
 and slovenliness of a cottier habitant — for the house was occupied by what 
 is misnamed a " care-taker," were seen on every hand. One of the great 
 rooms held the family, its fellow, on the opposite side of the hall, contained 
 a' cow and two pigs : cabbage stalks and half rotting potatoes' tops, 
 steamed their pestilential vapours beneath the windows, while half-naked 
 children added the discord, the only element wanting to complete the 
 sum of miserable, squalid discomfort, so sadly general among the peasantry. 
 
 If one needed an illustration of the evils of absenteeism, abetter could 
 not be found than in the ruinous, damp, discoloured building, with its 
 falling roof and broken windows. The wide and spreading lawn, thick 
 gi-own with thistles ; the trees broken or barked by cattle ; the gates 
 that hung by a single hinge, or were broken up piecemeal for firing, all 
 evidenced the sad state of neglectful indifference by which property is 
 wrecked and a country ruined I Nor was the figure then seated on the 
 broken door step an unfitting accompaniment to such a scene ; a man 
 somewhat past the middle period of life, whose rdgged, tattered dress 
 bespoke great poverty, his worn hat drawn down over his eyes, so as 
 partly to conceal a countenance by no means prepossessing ; beside him 
 lay a long, old-fashioned musket, the stock mended by some rude coun- 
 try hand. This was Tom Keane, the " care-taker," who in all the in- 
 dolent enjoyment of office, sat smoking his " dudeen," and calmly sur- 
 veying the process by which a young heifer was cropping the yearling 
 shoots of an ash tree. 
 
 Twice was his name called by a woman's voice, from within the 
 house, before he took any notice of it. 
 
 "Arrah, Tom, are you asleep? ' said she, coming to the door, and 
 showing a figure, whose wretchedness was even greater than his own; 
 while a certain delicacy of feature, an expression of a mild and pleasing 
 character, still lingered on a face where want and privation had set 
 many a mark. " Tom, alanah 1" said she, in a tone of coaxing softness, 
 " sure it's time to go down to the Post-office. Ye know how anxious 
 the ould man is for a letter." 
 
 " Ay; and he has rayson, too," said Tom, without stirring. 
 
118 ROLAin) CASHEL. 
 
 " And Miss Mary herself was up here yesterday evening, to bid you 
 go early, and, if there was a letter, to bring it, in all haste.'' 
 
 "And what for, need I make haste?" said the man, sulkily. "Is it 
 any matther to me, whether he gets one or no. Will / be richer or 
 poorer — poorer!" added he, with a savage laugh. — *' Be gorra ! that 
 WTid be hard, anyhow. That's a comfort, ould Corrigan hasn't. If they 
 turn him out of the place, then he'll know what it is to be poor !" 
 
 " Oh, Tom, acushla ! don't say that, and he so good to us, and the 
 young lady that was so kind when the childer had the measles, comin* 
 twice — no, but three times a-day, with every thing she could think of." 
 
 " Wasn't it to please herself ? Who axed her ?" said Tom, savagely. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! oh, dear !" sighed the woman. " Them's the hard words 
 — to please herself !" 
 
 "Ay, just so ! When ye know them people as well as me, you'll 
 say the same. That's what they like — to make themselves great among 
 the poor; giving a trifle here, and a penny there, making gruel for this one, 
 and 'tay ' for that, raarchin' in, as if they owned the house, and turning up 
 their noses at every thing they see. * Why don't you sweep before the door, 
 Nancy ?' — *Has the pig any right to be eating there out of the kish with 
 the childer V — * Ye ought to send that child to school' — and, * What's 
 your husband doing ?' — that's the cry with them. 'What's your husband 
 doing ? — Is he getting the wheat in, or is he at the potatoes.' Tear and 
 ages !'' cried he, with a wild energy, " What does any one of themselves 
 do from morning till night, that they're to come spyin' after a poor 
 man, to ax * Is he workin' like a naygur ?' But, we'll teach them 
 something yet — a lesson they're long wanting. Listen to this." 
 
 He took, as he spoke, a soiled and ragged newspaper from his pocket, 
 and, after seeking some minutes for the place, he read in a broken voice; 
 
 " * The days to come' — ay, here it is — * The days to come — Let the 
 poor man remember, that there is a future before him, that, if he have 
 but courage and boldness, will pay for the past. Turn about's fair play, 
 My Lords and Gentlemen ! You've had the pack in your own hands long 
 enough, and dealt yourselves all the trumps. Now, give us the cards 
 for awhile. You say our fingers are dirty ; so they are, with work and 
 toil, black and dirty ! but not as black as your own hearts. Hurrah ! for a 
 new deal, on a bran new table ; Ireland the stakes ; and the players her 
 own stout sons !' Them's fine sintiments," said he, putting up the paper. 
 — " Fine sintiments ! and the sooner we thry them the better. That's 
 the real song," said he, reciting with energy — 
 
 « Oh ! the days to come, the days to come, 
 When Erin shall have her own, boys I 
 When we'll pay the debts our fathers owed, 
 And reap what they have sown, boys I' 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 119 
 
 He sprang to his feet as he concluded, shouldering his musket, 
 strode out, as if in a marching step, and repeating to himself, as he went, 
 the last line of the song. About half-an-hour's brisk walking brought 
 him to a low wicket, which opened on the high road, a little distance from 
 which, stood the small village of Derraheeny, the Post-town of the neigh- 
 bourhood. The little crowd which usually assembled at the passing of 
 the coach, had already dispersed, when Tom Keane presented himself at 
 the window, and asked, in a tone of voice subdued almost to softness — 
 
 " Have you any thing for Mr. Corrigan this morning, ma'am ?" 
 
 " Yes ; there are two letters and a newspaper," replied a sharp voice, 
 from within — " One-and-fourpence to pay." 
 
 " She didn't give me any money, ma'am, but Miss Mary said " — 
 
 " You can take them," interrupted the post mistress, hastily handing 
 them out, and slamming the little window to, at the same instant. 
 
 " There's more of it !" muttered Tom ; " and if it was for me the 
 letters was, I might sell my cow before I'd get trust for the price of 
 them !" And with this reflection he plodded moodily homeward. 
 Scarcely, however, had he entered the thick plantation, than he seated 
 himself beneath a tree, and proceeded to take a careful and strict 
 scrutiny of the two letters ; carefully spelling over each address, and 
 poising them in his hands, as if the weight could assist his guesses as to 
 the contents." "That's Mr. Kennyfeck's big seal. I know it well,'* 
 said he, gazing on the pretentious coat of arms which emblazoned the 
 attorney's letter. " I can make nothing of the other at all. * Cornelius 
 Corrigan, Esq., Tubber-beg, Derraheeny — sorra more !'" It was in 
 vain that he held it open, lozenge fashion, to peep within — but one page 
 only was written, and he could not see that. Kennyfeck's letter was 
 enclosed in an envelope, so that here, too, he was baulked, and at last 
 was fain to slip the newspaper from its cover — a last resource, to learn 
 something under-hand ! The newspaper did not contain any thing pe- 
 culiarly interesting, save in a single paragraph, which announced the 
 intention of Roland Cashel, Esq., of Tubbermore Castle, to contest the 
 County, at the approaching General Election. " We are informed," 
 said the writer, " on competent authority, that this gentleman intends to 
 make the ancestral seat his chief residence in future ; and that already 
 preparations are making to render this princely mansion in every respect 
 worthy of the vast fortune of its proprietor." 
 
 " Faith, and the * princely mansion ' requires a thing or two, to make it 
 all perfect," said Tom, with a sardonic laugh, while in a lower tone he 
 muttered— "may be, for all the time he'll stay there, it's not worth his 
 while to spend the money on it." Having re-read the paragraph, he 
 carefully replaced the paper in its cover and continued his way, not> 
 
120 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 however, towards his own home, but entering a little woodland path that 
 led direct towards the Shannon. After passing a short distance he came 
 to a little low hedge of beech and birch, through which a neat rustic gate 
 led and opened upon a closely shaven lawn. The neatly gravelled v>^alk, 
 the flower-beds, the delicious perfume that was diffused on every side, the 
 occasional peeps at the eddying river, and the cottage itself, seen at 
 intervals between the evergreens that studded the lawn, were wide con- 
 trasts to the ruinous desolation of the " Great House," and as if unwilling 
 to feel their influence, Tom pulled his hat deeper over his brows, and never 
 looked at either side as he advanced. The part of the cottage towards 
 which he was approaching contained a long verandah, supported by 
 pillars of rustic work within which, opening by three large windows 
 was the principal drawing-room. Here, now, at a small writing-table, 
 sat a young girl, whose white dress admirably set off the graceful outhne 
 of her figure, seen within the half-darkened room : her features were 
 pale, but beautifully regular, and the masses of her hair, black as night, 
 which she wore twisted on the back of the head, like a cameo, gave a 
 character of classic elegance and simplicity to the whole. 
 
 Without, and under the verandah, an old man, tall, and slightly bowed 
 in the shoulders, walked slowly up and down. It needed not the careful 
 nicety of his long queue, the spotless whiteness of his cambric shirt and 
 vest, nor the perfection of his nicely fitting nankeen pantaloons to be- 
 speak him a gentleman of the past day. There was a certain suave gen- 
 tleness in his bland look, an air of easy courtesy in his every motion, a 
 kind of well-bred mannerism in the very carriage of his gold-headed cane, 
 that told of a time, when the graces of deportment were a study, and when 
 our modern careless freedom had been deemed the very acme of rude- 
 ness. He was dictating, as was his wont each morning, some remi- 
 niscence of his early life, when he had served in the Body Guard of 
 Louis XVI., and where he had borne his part in the stormy scenes of 
 that eventful era. The memory of that most benevolent monarch, 
 the fascinations of that Queen whom to serve was to idolize, had sufficed 
 to soften the hardships of a life, which from year to year pressed 
 more heavily, and* were at last, after many a struggle, impressing theip 
 lines upon a brow where age alone had never written grief. 
 
 On the morning in question, instead of rapidly pouring forth his 
 recollections, which usually came in groups, pressing one upon the 
 other, he hesitated often, sometimes forgetting " where he was," in his 
 narrative, and more than once ceasing to speak altogether ; he walked in 
 reverie, and seeming deeply pre-occupied. 
 
 His grand-daughter had noticed this change, but cautiously abstain- 
 ing from any thing that might betray her consciousness, she sat pen in 
 
The Cottage 
 
ROLAND CASHEL; 121 
 
 hand, waiting, her lustrous eyes watching each gesture with au intensity 
 of interest that amounted to actual suffering. 
 
 " I fear, Mary," said he, with an effort to smile, " we must give it up 
 for to-day. The present is too strong for the past, just as sorrow is ■ 
 always an overmatch for joy. Watching for the post has routed all my 
 thoughts, and I can think of nothing but what tidings may reach me 
 from Dublin." 
 
 " You have no fears, Sir," said she, rising and drawing her arm within 
 his, *' that your application could be rejected ; you ask nothing unusual 
 or unreasonable — a brief renewal of a lease where you have expended a 
 fortune." 
 
 " True, true, dear child. Let us, however, not look on the case with 
 our eyes alone, but see it as others may. But here comes Tom. Well, 
 what news Tom ; are there letters ?" 
 
 " Yes, Sir, here's two ; there's one-and-fourpence to be paid." 
 
 '• Let me see them," cried the old man, impatiently, as he snatched 
 them, and hastily re-entered the house. 
 
 " Is Cathleen better to-day ?" said the young lady, addressing the 
 peasant. 
 
 " Yes, Miss, Glory be to God, she's betther. Thanks to yourself 
 and Him. Oh, then, it's of yer beautiful face she does be dramin' every 
 night. Says she, it's Miss Mary, I think, is singing to me, when I hear 
 the birds in my sleep." 
 
 " Poor child, give her this little book for me, and say I'll come up and 
 see her this evening if I can. Mrs. Moore will send her the broth ; I 
 hope she'll soon be able to eat something. Good-bye, Tom." 
 
 A deep-drawn heavy sigh from within the cottage, here made her 
 abruptly conclude the interview and hasten in. The door of her grand- 
 father's little dressing-room was, however, locked, and after a noiseless 
 effort to turn the handle, she withdrew to the drawing-room, to wait in 
 deep anxiety for his coming. 
 
 The old man sat with his head supported on both hands, gazing stead- 
 fastly at two open letters, which lay on the table before him ; had they 
 contained a sentence of death his aspect could scarce have been more sad 
 and sorrow struck ! one was from Mr. Kennyfeck, and ran thus : 
 " Dear Mr. Cor rig an, 
 
 " I have had a brief conversation with Mr. Roland Cashel on the 
 subject of your renewal, and I am grieved to say that he does not seem 
 disposed to accede to your wishes. Entertaining, as he does, the intention 
 to make Tubbermore his chief residence in Ireland, his desire is, I be- 
 lieve, to connect the farm in your holding with the demesne. This will 
 at once explain that it is not a question of demanding a higher rent from 
 
122 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 you, but simply of carrying out a plan for the enlargement and improve- 
 ment of the grounds pertaining to the " Hall." 
 
 " The matter is, however, by no means decided upon ; nor will it be, 
 in all probability, before you have an opportunity of meeting Mr. Cashel 
 personally. His present intention is to visit your neighbourhood next 
 week. *' I am, dear Sir, truly yours, 
 
 " T. Kennyfeck. 
 
 " Cornelius Corrigan, Esq., Tubber-beg Cottage." 
 
 The second letter was as follows : — 
 
 " Simpkins and Green have the honour to forward for acceptance the 
 enclosed bill for two hundred and seventeen pounds, at three months, 
 Mr. Heneage Leicester, of New Orleans, on Mr. Corrigan. 
 
 " They are authorised also to state that Mr. Leicester's affairs have 
 suffered considerably from the consequence of the commercial distress at 
 N.O,, and his personal property has been totally lost by the earth- 
 quake, which took place on the 11th and 12th ultimo. He therefore 
 trusts to Mr. C. 's efforts to contribute to his aid by a greater exer- 
 tion than usual, and will draw upon him for two sums of one hundred, 
 at dates of six and nine months, which he hopes- may suit his conve- 
 nience, and be duly honoured. Mr. Leicester continues to hope that he 
 may be able to visit Europe in the spring, where his great anxiety to 
 see his daughter will call him." 
 
 " The ruin is now complete," said the old man. " I have struggled 
 for years with poverty and privation to ward off this hour — but, like 
 destiny, it will not be averted ! Despoiled of fortune — turned from the 
 home where I have lived from my childhood — bereft of all ! I could 
 bear up still if she were but left to me — but now, he threatens to take 
 her, my child, my hope, my life ! And the world will stand by him, 
 and say, 'He is her father!' He, that broke the mother's heart — my 
 own darling girl! — and now comes to rob me — a poor helpless old man, 
 of all my companionship and my pride. Alas, alas! the pride, per- 
 haps, deserves the chastisement." 
 
 " Poor Mary — how will she ever learn to look on him with a daugh- 
 ter's affection. — What a life will her's be !" 
 
 " And this deception — how will it, how can it ever be explained ! I 
 have always said that he was dead." 
 
 Such, in broken half sentences, were the words he spoke, while thick 
 coming sobs almost choked his utterance. 
 
 " This cannot be helped," said he, taking up the pen and writing his 
 name across the Bill. " So much I can meet, by selling our little furni- 
 ture here ; we shall need it no more, for we have no longer a home. 
 Where to, then ?"— 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 123 
 
 He shook his hands in mournful despair, and walked towards the 
 window. Mary was standing outside, in the little flower garden, assist- 
 ing the old gardener to fasten some stray tendrils of a Japonica between 
 two trees. 
 
 " We must try and shelter this window, Ned," said she, " from the 
 morning sun. It comes in too strongly here in Papa's library. By 
 next summer, I hope to see a thick trellis of leaves across the whole 
 casement." 
 
 "By next summer," repeated the old man, from within, with a trem- 
 bling voice ; " and who will be here to see it ?" 
 
 **This little hedge, too, must be overgrown with that creeping plant 
 we got from America, the white Liana. I want the beech to be com- 
 pletely hid beneath the blossoms, and they come out in May." 
 
 " In May!" said the poor old man, wdth an accent of inexpressible sad- 
 ness, as though the very promise of spring had unfolded a deep vista of 
 years of suffering. *' But why care for the home, if she, who made its 
 sunshine, is taken from me? What matters it where I linger on, or how, 
 the last few hours of a life, bereft of its only enjoyment. She, that in 
 my old age, renewed all the memories of my early and my happy days." 
 
 He sat down and covered his face with his hands ; and when he with- 
 drew them, the whole character and expression of the countenance had 
 changed ; a dull, meaningless look had replaced the mild and cheerful 
 beam of his soft blue eyes; the cheeks were flattened, and the mouth, so 
 ready with its gentle smile, now remained partly open, and slightly 
 drawn to one side. He made an effort to speak, but a thickened guttural 
 utterance rendered the words scarcely intelligible. He approached the 
 window and beckoned with his hand. The next instant, pale with terror, 
 but still composed and seeming calm, Mary was beside him. 
 
 " You are not well, dear Papa," she said, with a great effort to appear 
 at ease. " You must lie down — here will do — on this sofa ; I'll close 
 the curtain, and send over for Tiernay ; he said he should be back from 
 Limerick this morning." 
 
 A gentle pressure of her hand to his lips, and a faint smile, seemed 
 to assent. 
 
 She opened the window, and whispered a few w^ords to the gardener, 
 and then closing it, noiselessly, drew the curtain, and sat down on alow 
 stool, beside the sofa where he lay. 
 
 So still and motionless did he remain, that she thought he slept ; in- 
 deed, the long-drawn breathing, and the repose of his attitude be- 
 tokened sleep. 
 
 Mary did not venture to move, but sat, one hand clasped in his, the 
 other resting on his forehead, -still and silent. 
 
124 EOLAJND CASHEL. 
 
 The darkened room, the unbroken silence, the figure of him in whom 
 was centered her every thought and hope, lying sick before her, sunk 
 with a dreary weight upon her heart ; and in the gloom of her sorrow, 
 dark foreboding of future evil arose, vague terrors of trials, new and 
 hard to bear ! That strange prescience, which never is Avanting in 
 great afflictions, and seems itself a heaven-sent Avarning to prepare for 
 th^ coming blow, revealed a time of sore trouble and calamity before 
 her. " Let him be but spared to me," she cried, in her heart-uttered 
 prayer, " and let me be so fashioned in spirit and temper that I may 
 minister to him through every hour — cheering, consoling, and encour- 
 aging. Giving of m?/ youth its gift of hopefulness and trust, and bor- 
 rowing of his age, its serenity and resignation. But oh, that I may not 
 be left solitary and alone, unfriended and unsupported I" A gush of 
 tears, the first she shed, here burst forth, and in the transport of her 
 grief, brought calm to her mind once more. 
 
 A low tap at the window, and a voice in whisper, aroused her. " It 
 is the doctor, Miss, Dr. Tiernay," said the gardener. 
 
 A motion to admit him was all her reply, and with noiseless step the 
 physician entered and approached the sofa. He felt the pulse, and 
 listened to the respiration of the sick man, and then, withdrawing the 
 curtain so as to let the light fall upon his features, steadily contemplated 
 their expression. As he looked, his own countenance grew graver and 
 sadder ; and it was with an air of deep solemnity that he took Mary's 
 hand, and led her from the room. 
 
 With a weight like lead upon her heart Mary moved away. " When 
 did it happen ? ' whispered he, when he had closed the door behind 
 them. 
 
 *' Happen !" gasped she, in agony ; " what do you mean ?" 
 
 *' I meant when — this — occurred," replied he, faltering ; " was he in 
 his usual health this morning ?" 
 
 " Yes, perfectly — a little less composed — anxious about his letters — 
 uneasy at the delay — but no more." 
 
 " You do not know if he received any unpleasant tidings, or heard 
 any thing to distress him-?" 
 
 " He may have done so," answered she sadly, " for he locked his 
 door and read over his letters by himself. When I saw him next, he 
 was standing at the window, and beckoning to me." 
 
 A gentle tap at the door here interrupted the colloquy, and the old 
 housekeeper whispered, '•' The master, miss, wants to spake with the 
 doctor ; he's better now." 
 
 *' Oh, let me see him," cried Mary, springing towards the door. But 
 Dr. Tiernay interposed gently, and said, " No, this might prove dan- 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 12o 
 
 gerons ; remain here till I have seen and spoken with him." Mary 
 absented by a gesture, and sat down without speaking. 
 
 " Sit down, Tiernay," said the sick man, as the doctor came to his 
 bed-side ; " sit down and let me speak while I have strength. Every 
 thing is against us, Tiernay. We are not to get the renewal : this 
 young Mr. Cashel wants the cottage — we must turn out. I'll have to 
 do so, even before the gale-day ; but what matter about me ! It's that 
 
 poor child I'm thinking of " Here he stopped, and was some 
 
 minutes before he could resume. " There — read that ; that will tell 
 you all." 
 
 Tiernay took the crumpled letter, which the old man had all this 
 while held firmly in his closed grasp, and read it. 
 
 "Well, that's bad news, isn't it," said Corrigan ; '*not the Bill. 
 I don't mean that ; but he's coming back ; do you see the threat ? he's 
 coming back again." 
 
 " How can he ?" said the Doctor. *' The man committed a forgery; 
 how will he dare to return here and place his neck in a halter !" 
 
 " You forget whose evidence alone can convict him — mine ; the name 
 he forged was mine, the sum he took was mine — nearly all I had in the 
 world — but he has nothing to fear from me, whatever I may have to 
 dread from Am." 
 
 " How can he have any terror iov you T 
 
 *•' He can take her away ; not from me, for she'll soon be separated by 
 a stronger hand than his, but I can't bear to think that she'll be in his 
 power. Tiernay, this is what is cutting into my heart now, as I lie here, 
 and leaves me no rest to think of the brief minutes before me. Tell me, 
 is there no way to avoid this ? Think of something, my old friend — 
 take this weight off my dying heart, and my last breath will bless you.", 
 
 "Are there any relations, or friends ?" 
 
 " None, not one ; I'm the last of the tree — the one old rotten branch 
 left. I was thinking of a nunnery, Tiernay, one of those Convents in 
 France, or the Low Countries ; but even there, if he found her out, he 
 could legally demand her to be restored to him ; and he would find her, 
 aye, that he would ! There never was a thing yet that man couldn't do 
 when he set his heart on it ; and, the more the obstacles, the greater his 
 wish. I heard him say it with his own lips, that he never had any fancy 
 for my poor Lucy, till he overheard her one day saying, that " she never 
 hated any one till she knew him." From that hour, he swore to himself 
 she should be his wife ! Heaven knows if the hate was not better 
 bestowed than the love; and yet, she did love him to the last, ay, even 
 after cruelty and desertion, — ay, after his supposed death ; when she 
 
126 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 heard that he married another, and was living in splendour at Cadiz, 
 -Ay, Tlernay ! after all that, she told me, on her death-hed, she loved him 
 Btill." 
 
 *' I think the Nunnery is the best resource," said the Doctor, recalling 
 the sick man from a theme, where his emotions were already too power- 
 fully excited. 
 
 "I believe it is," said the old man, with more of energy than before ; 
 " and I feel almost as if Providence would give me strength and health 
 to bring her there myself, and see her safe before I die. Feel that 
 pulse now — isn't it stronger ?'' 
 
 *' You are better, much better, already," said the Doctor ; "and, now, 
 keep quiet and composed. Don't speak — if it was possible, I'd say 
 don't think — for a few hours. The worst is nigh over." 
 
 " I thought so, Tlernay. I felt it was, what old Joe Henchy used to 
 call * a run-away knock.* " 
 
 And, with a faint smile, the old man pressed his hand, and said, 
 *' Good b'ye." 
 
 Scarcely, however, had the doctor reached the door, when he called 
 him back, 
 
 " Tlernay," said he, " it's of no use telling me to lie still, and keep 
 quiet, and the rest of it. I continue, asleep or awake, to think over 
 what's coming. There is but one way to give me peace — give me some 
 hope. I'll tell you now how that is to be done ; but, first of all, can 
 you spare three days from home ?" 
 
 " To be sure I can ; a week, if it would serve you. Where am I to 
 go?" 
 
 " To Dublin ! Tiernay. You'll have to go up there, and see this 
 young man, Cashel, yourself, and speak to him for me. TeU him nothing 
 of our present distress or poverty, but just let him see who it is that he 
 is turning out of the lands where their fathers lived for hundreds of 
 years. Tell him, that the Corrlgan's is the oldest stock ^in the whole 
 country ; that the time was, from the old square tower on Garraguin, 
 you couldn't see a spot of ground that wasn't our own ! Tell him — " 
 and as he spoke his flashing eye, and heightened colour, showed how the 
 theme agitated and excited him — " tell him, that if he turns us from 
 
 hearth and home, it is not as if it was like some poor cotter " 
 
 he paused, his lips trembled, and the big tears burst from his eyes and 
 rolled heavily down his face. *' Oh ! God forgive me for saying the 
 words !" cried he, in an accent of deep agony. " Why wouldn't the 
 humblest peasant that ever crouched to his meal of potatoes, beside the 
 little turf fire of his cabin, love his home, as well as the best blood in 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 127 
 
 the land ? No, no, Mat, it's little kindness we'd deserve on such a plea 
 as that." 
 
 " There, there, don't agitate yourself. I know what you mean, and 
 what you'd like me to say." 
 
 " You do not," rejoined the old man, querulously, "for I haven't said 
 it yet, nor I can't think of it now. Ah, Mat," here his voice softened 
 once more into its habitual key, " that was a cruel thought of me, a 
 while ago ; and faith, Mr. Cashel might well suspect, if he heard it, 
 that I wasn't one of the old good blood of the Corrigans, that could 
 talk that way of the poor ; but so it is. There isn't a bad trait in a 
 man's heart that is not the twin brother of his selfishness. And now 
 I'll say no more ; do the best you can for us, that's all. I was going to 
 bid you tell him, that we have an old claim on the whole estate, that 
 some of the lawyers say is good — that the crown have taken off the con- 
 fiscation in the time of my great father, Phil Corrigan, but sure he 
 wouldn't mind that ; besides, that's not the way to ask a favour." 
 
 " You mustn't go on talking this way ; see how hot your hand is." 
 
 " Well, may be it will be cold enough soon ! there is another thing, 
 Mat. You must call on Murphy, with the bill of sale of the furniture 
 and the books, and get money to meet these bills. There they are; I 
 endorsed them this morning. Tell Green it's no use sending me the 
 other bills ; I'll not have means to take them up, and it would be only 
 disgracing my name for nothing to write it on them. I'll be longing to 
 see you back again. Mat., and hear your tidings, so God bless you, and 
 send you safe home to us." 
 
 " Fll set off to-night," said the Doctor, rising and shaking his hand ; 
 *' your attack is passed over, and there's no more danger if you'll keep 
 quiet." 
 
 " There's another thing, Mat.," said the sick man, smiling faintly, and 
 with a strange meaning. " Call at No. 28, Drogheda Street, and ask the 
 people to show you the room Con. Corrigan fought the duel in with 
 Colonel Battley. It was only twelve feet long and ten wide, a little place 
 off the drawing-room, and the Colonel wouldn't even consent that we should 
 stand in the corners. Look and see if the bullet is in the wall still. The 
 old Marquis used to have it fresh painted red every year, on the anni- 
 versary of the day. Oh dear, oh dear, but they were the strange times 
 then ! aye, and pleasant times too, and with such reflection on the past, 
 he fell off into a dreamy half-consciousness, during which Tiernay stole 
 from the room, and left him alone. 
 
 Faint and trembling with agitation, Mary Leicester was standing all 
 this while at the door of the sick chamber. " Did I hear aright. Doctor," 
 said she ; " was that his voice that sounded so cheerfully ?" 
 
128 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Yes, my dear Miss Marj^ the peril is by, but be cautious. Let him 
 not speak so much, evea with you. This is a sweet, quiet spot. Heaven 
 grant he may long enjoy it." 
 
 Mary's lips muttered some words inaudibly, and they parted. She 
 sat down alone, in the little porch, under the eave ; the day was a deli- 
 clous one in autumn, calm, mellow, and peaceful ; a breeze, too faint to 
 ripple the river, stirred the flowers, and shook forth their odour. The 
 cottage, the leafy shade, through which the tempered sun-light fell in. 
 fanciful shapes upon the gravel ; the many-coloured blossoms of the rich 
 garden — the clear and tranquil river — the hum of the distant water-fall — 
 thev were all such sights and sounds as breathe of home, and home's 
 happiness, and so had she felt them to be, till an unknown fear found 
 entrance into her heart, and spread its darkness there. What a terrible 
 sensation comes with a first sorrow ! 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 129 
 
 ' CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " With fame and fortune on the cast, 
 He never rose a winner ; 
 And learned to know himself at last, 
 * A miserable sinner.' " 
 
 Bell. 
 
 It was about ten days or a fortnight after the great Kennyfeck 
 dinner, when all the gossip about its pretension, dullness, and bad taste 
 had died away, and the worthy guests so bored by the festivity began 
 to wonder " when they would give another," that a gentleman sat at 
 breakfast in one of those large, dingy -looking, loAV-ceilinged apartments 
 which are the choice abodes of the vice-regal staiF in the Castle of 
 Dublin. The tawdry and time-discoloured gildings, the worn and faded 
 silk hangings, the portraits of by-gone state counsellors and commanders- 
 in-chief, grievously riddled by rapier points and pistol-shots, were not 
 without an emblematic meaning of the past glories of that seat of 
 government, now so sadly fallen from its once high and palmy state. 
 
 Although still a young man, the present occupant of the chamber 
 appeared middle-aged, so much had dissipation and excess done the 
 work of time on his constitution. A jaded, wearied look, a sleepy, in- 
 dolent expression of the eye, certain hard lines about the angles of the 
 mouth, betokened one who played a high game with life, and rarely 
 arose a winner. Although his whole appearance bespoke birth and 
 blood rather than intellect or ability, there was enough in his high and 
 squarely-shaped head, his deep dark eye, and his firm, sharply-cut 
 mouth, to augur that incapacity could not be reckoned among the causes 
 of any failures he incurred in his career. He was in every respect the 
 beau ideal of that strange solecism in our social code, " The younger 
 son." His brother, the Duke of Derwent, had eighty thousand a year. 
 He had exactly three hundred. His Grace owned three houses, which 
 might well be called palaces, besides a grouse lodge in the Highlands, 
 a yachting station at Cowes, and a villa at Hyeres in France. My 
 Lord was but too happy to be the possessor of the three cobwebbed 
 chambers of a vice-regal aide-de-camp, and enjoy the pay of his troop 
 without joining his regiment. 
 
 Yet these two men were reared exactly alike ! As much habituated 
 to every requirement and luxury of wealth as his elder brother, the 
 
 K 
 
IZO ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 younger suddenly discovered that, once beyond the shadow of his father's 
 house, all his worldly resources were something more than what the 
 cook and something less than the valet received. He had been taught 
 one valuable lesson, however, which was, that as the State loves a rich 
 aristocracy, it burthens itself with the maintenance of all those who 
 might prove a drain on its resources, and that it is ever careful to provide 
 for the Lord George's and Lord Charles' of its noble houses. To this 
 provision he believed he had a legal claim ; at all events, he knew it to 
 be a right uncontested by those less highly born. 
 
 The system which excludes men from the career of commerce, in com- 
 pensation opens the billiard-room, the whist-table, and the betting-ring, 
 and many a high capacity has been exercised in such spheres as these, 
 whose resources might have won honour and distinction in very different 
 fields of enterprise. Whether Lord Charles Frobisher knew this, and 
 felt that there was better in him, or whether his successes were below 
 his hopes, certain is it, he was a depressed, dejected man, who lounged 
 through life in a languid indolence, caring for nothing, not even himself. 
 
 There was some story of an unfortunate attachment, some love affair, 
 with a very beautiful, but portionless cousin, who married a Marquis, to 
 which many ascribed the prevailing melancholy of his character, but 
 they who remembered him as a schoolboy said he was always shy and 
 reserved, and saw nothing strange in his bearing as a man. The break- 
 fast-table, covered with all that could stimulate appetite, and yet, with 
 all untasted, was not a bad emblem of one who with many a gift to win 
 an upward way, yet lived on in all the tawdry insignificance of a court 
 aide-de-camp. A very weak glass of claret and water, with a piece of 
 dry toast, formed his meal, and even these stood on the corner of a 
 writing-table, at which he sat, rising sometimes to look out of the win- 
 dow, or pace the room with slow, uncertain steps. Before him lay an 
 unfinished letter, which, to judge from the slow progress it made, and 
 the frequent interruptions to its course, seemed to occasion some diffi- 
 culty in the composition, and yet the same epistle begun " My dear 
 Sydney," and was addressed to his brother. Here it is : 
 
 " My dear Sydney, 
 " I suppose from not hearing from you some weeks liack, that my last, 
 which I addressed to the Clarendon, has never reached you, nor is it of 
 any consequence. It would be too late now to ask you about Scott's 
 horses. Cobham told us how you stood yourself, and that was enough 
 to guide the poor devils here with their poneys and fifties. We all got a 
 squeeze on the * Mare.' I hear you won seven thousand beside the 
 stakes. I hope the report may. be' true. Is Raucus in training for thiB 
 
ROLAND CASHEL, 131 
 
 Spring meeting or not ? If so, let me have some trifle on him In your 
 own book. 
 
 " I perceive you voted on Brougham's amendment against our people ; 
 I conclude you were right, but it will make them very stubborn with 
 me about the exchange. N. has already remarked upon what he calls 
 the * intolerable independence of some Noble Lords.' I wish I knew 
 the clue to your proceeding — are you at liberty to give it? I did not 
 answer the question in your last letter. — Of course I am tired of Ireland, 
 but as the alternatives are a * Compound in Calcutta, or the Govern- 
 ment House, Quebec,* I may as well remain where I am. I don't know 
 that a staff-officer like Madeira improves by a sea voyage. 
 
 " You say nothing of Georgina, so that I hope her chest is better, 
 and that Nice may not be necessary. I believe if climate were needed 
 you would find Lisbon or rather Cintra better than any part of Italy, 
 and possessed of one great advantage — few of our rambling country- 
 men. N commended your haunch so highly, and took such pains 
 to record his praises, that I suspect he looks for a repetition of the favour. 
 If you are shooting bucks perhaps you would send him a quarter." 
 
 Two sentences half finished and erased, here showed that the writer ex- 
 perienced a difficulty in continuing. Indeed, his flurried manner as he 
 resumed the letter proved it. At last he went on. 
 
 " I hate asking favours, my dear Sydney, but there is one which, if 
 not positively repugnant to you to grant, will much oblige me. There 
 is a young millionaire here, a Mr. Cashel, wishes to be a member of your 
 Yacht Club, and as I have given a promise to make interest in his be- 
 half with you, it would be conferring a great obligation on me were I to 
 make the request successfully. So far as I can learn, there is no reason 
 against his admission, and as regards property, many reasons in his 
 favour; If you can do this for me, then, you will render me a consider- 
 able service. 
 
 " Of course I do not intend to fix any acquaintanceship upon you, nor 
 in any other way save the bean in the ballot-box, and a civil word in pro- 
 posing, inflict you with what Rigby calls ' Protective Duties.' I should 
 have been spared in giving you this trouble but for Tom Linton, who, with 
 his accustomed good-nature, at other men's cost, suggested the step to 
 Cashel, and told him besides that my brother was Vice- Admiral of the 
 Yacht fleet. 
 
 " If Emily wants a match for the chestnut poney, I know of one 
 here perfect in every respect, and to be had very cheap. Let me know 
 about this soon ; and also the club matter, as I have promised to visit 
 Cashel, at his country-house ; and in case of refusal on your part, this 
 •would be unpleasant. Thanks for your invitation for Christmas, which 
 
 K 2 
 
13!^ ROLAJO) CASHEL. 
 
 I cannot accept of. Hope and Eversham are both on leave, so that I 
 must remain here. N. continues to ask you here ; hut my advice is, as it 
 has ever been, not to come. The climate detestable — the houses dull 
 and dirty ; no shooting nor any hunting, at least with such horses as 
 you are accustomed to ride. 
 
 " I am glad you took my counsel about the mortgage. There is no 
 property here worth seventeen years' purchase, in the present aspect of 
 politics. Love to Jane and the girls, and believe me ever yours, 
 
 "Charles Frobisher." 
 
 This task completed, he turned to the morning papers ; which, with a 
 mass of tradesmen's bills, notes, and cards of invitation, littered the 
 table. He had not read long, when a deep drawn yawn from the 
 further end of the room aroused him, and Frobisher arose and walked 
 towards a sofa, on which was stretched a man, somewhat about the middle 
 of life, but whose bright eye, and fresh complexion, showed little touch 
 of time. His dress, slightly disordered, was a dinner costume, and 
 rather inclined towards over-particularity ; at least, the jewelled buttons 
 of his vest and shirt evinced a taste for display, that seemed not ill to 
 consort with the easy effrontery of his look. 
 
 Taking his watch from his pocket he held it to his ear, saying, " There 
 is an accomplishment, Charley, I've never been able to acquire — to 
 wind my watch at supper time. What hour is it ?" 
 
 " Two," said the other, laconically. 
 
 " By Jove ! how I must have slept. Have you been to bed?" 
 
 " Of course. But, I'd swear, with less success than you have had on 
 that old sofa. I scarcely closed my eyes for ten minutes together." 
 
 " That downy sleep only comes of a good conscience and a heart at 
 ease with itself," said the other. " You young gentlemen, who lead bad 
 lives, know very little about the balmy repose of the tranquil mind." 
 
 " Have you forgotten that you were to ride out with Lady Cecilia 
 this morning ?" said Frobisher, abruptly. 
 
 "Not a bit of it. I even dreamed we were cantering together along 
 the sands, where I was amusing her ladyship with some choice morceaux 
 of scandal, from that set in society she professes to hold in such horror, 
 that she will not receive them at court ; but, for whose daily sayings and 
 doings she has the keenest zest." 
 
 " Foster is gone with her," rejoined Lord Charles, " and I suspect she 
 is just as well pleased. Before this he has told her every thing about 
 our late sitting, and the plaj, and the rest of it !" 
 
 *' Of course he has ; and she is dying to ask Mr. Softly, the young 
 chaplain's advice, whether rooting us all out would not be a * good work .' " 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 133 
 
 " Since when have you become so squeamish about card- playing, Mr. 
 Linton ?" 
 
 " I ? Not in the least ! I'm only afraid that some of my friends 
 may turn to be so, when they hear of my successes. You know what 
 happened to Wycherley, when he got that knack of always turning up a 
 King ? Some one asked Ruxton what was to be done about it. * Is it 
 certain?' said he. * Perfectly certain; we have seen him do it a hundred 
 times !' * Then back him,' said old Ruxton. ' That's my advice to you.' 
 As he said this, he drew a chair towards the table, and proceeded to fill 
 out a cup of chocolate. Where do you get these anchovies, Charley ? 
 Burke has got some, but not half the size." 
 
 "They are ordered for the household. Lawson can tell you all 
 about 'em," said the other, carelessly. '^ But I say! what bets did you 
 book on Laplander?" 
 
 " Took him against the field for seven hundred even." 
 
 "A bad bet then — I call it a very bad bet." 
 
 " So should I, if I didn't know Erebus is dead lame." 
 
 " I've seen a horse run to win with a contracted heel, before now,'* 
 said Lord Charles, with a most knowing look, 
 
 " So have I ! but not on stony ground. No ! no ! you may depend 
 upon it !" 
 
 *' I don't want to depend upon it," said the other, snappishly. " I 
 shall not venture five pounds on the race. I remember once something 
 of an implicit reliance on a piece of information of the kind." 
 
 " Well ! you know how that happened. I gave Hilyard's valet 
 fifty pounds to get a peep at his master's betting-book, and the fellow 
 told Hilyard, who immediately made up a book express, and let us 
 all in for a smart sum. I am sure I was the heaviest loser in the 
 affair." 
 
 " So you ought, too. The contrivance was a very rascally one ; and 
 deserved its penalty." 
 
 " The expression is not Parliamentary, my lord," said Linton, with 
 a slight flushing of the cheek, " and so I must call you to order." 
 
 " Is Turcoman to run ?" asked Lord Charles, negligently. 
 
 " No ! I have persuaded Cashel to buy him, and he has taken him out 
 of training." 
 
 " Well ! you really go very straightforward in your work, Linton. 
 I must say, you are as plucky a rogue as I've ever heard of. Pray now, 
 how do you manage to keep up your influence over that youth ; he 
 always appears to me to be a rash-headed, wilful kind of fellow there 
 would be no guiding." 
 
 *' Simply, by always keeping him in occupation. There are people 
 
134 ROLAJSTD CASHEL. 
 
 like spavined horses, and one must always get them warm in their work, 
 and they never show the blemish. Now, I have been eternally along- side 
 of Cashel, One day, buying horses, — another, pictures — another time, 
 it was furniture — carriages — saddlery — till we have filled that great old 
 house of the Ex- Chancellor's with an assemblage of objects living and 
 inanimate, it would take a month to chronicle." 
 
 " Some kind friend may open his eye to all this, one of these days. 
 Master Linton — and then, — " 
 
 " By that time," said Linton, *' his clair-voyance will be too late. 
 Like many a man I've known, he'll be a capital judge of claret when 
 his cellar has been emptied." 
 
 *' You were a large winner, last night, Linton ?" 
 
 *' Twelve hundred and fifty. It might have been double the amount, 
 but I've taken a hint from Splasher's physiology. He says nothing 
 encourages a plethora like small bleedings. And you, Charley ; what 
 did you do ?" 
 
 *' Sixty pounds !" replied he, shortly. " I never venture out of my 
 depth." 
 
 " And you mean to infer that / do, my Lord," said Linton, trying to 
 smile, while evidently piqued by the remark. " Well, I plead guilty to 
 the charge. I have a notion in my head, that seven feet of water 
 drowns a man just as effectually as seven hundred fathoms in the blue 
 Atlantic. Now you know, as well as /, that neither of us could aflford 
 to lose sixty pounds thrice running, so let us not talk of venturing out of 
 our depth ; which, I take it, would be to paddle in very shallow water 
 indeed." 
 
 For an instant it seemed as if Lord Charles would have given an angry 
 reply to this sally ; but, as hastily, checking the emotion, he walked to 
 the window, and appeared to be lost in thought ; while Linton continued 
 his breakfast with all the zest of a hungry man. 
 
 " I'll give up play altogether," said Frobisher. " That I've resolved 
 upon. This will go abroad, rely upon it. Some of the papers will get 
 hold of it, and we shall see some startling paragraphs about — * Recent 
 Discoveries in the Vice Regal Household — Nefarious system of High 
 Play at the Castle,' and so on. Now it's all very well for you, who 
 neither care who's in or out, or hold any appointment here ; but, re- 
 member, there are others — myself, for instance, who have no fancy for 
 this kind of publicity." 
 
 " In the first place, "interrupted Linton, " there is no danger ; and, in 
 the second, if there were, it's right well remunerated. Your appointment 
 here, with all its contingent advantages, of which, not to excite your 
 blushes, we shall say nothing, is some three or four hundred a-year. 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. WS 
 
 Now, a lucky evening, and courage to back the luck — a quality, by the 
 way, I never yet found in one Englishman in a hundred, is worth this, 
 twice or thrice told. Besides, remember, that this wild Bull of the 
 Prairies has come of himself into our hunting grounds. If ive don't 
 harpoon him, somebody else will. A beast of such fat on the haunches 
 is not going to escape scot free ; and lastly, by falling into good hands, 
 he shall have the advantage of being cut up artistically, and not mauled 
 and mangled by the rude fingers of the ignorant. Faith, as for myself, 
 I think I richly merit all the spoils I shall obtain !" 
 
 "As how, pray?" asked Lord Charles, languidly. 
 
 " In the first place, to speak of the present — I have ridden out with 
 him — sat beside him on the box of his drag — he is seen with me in 
 public, and has beea heard to call me " Linton," on the ride at Dycer's. 
 My trades-people have become his trades -people. The tailor who re- 
 served his master-stroke of genius for me, now shares his favours with 
 him. In fact, Charley, we are one. Secondly, as regards the future, 
 see from what perils I shall rescue him. He shall not marry Livy 
 Kennyfeck — he shall not go into Parliament for the liberal interest — nor 
 for any interest, if I can help it — he shall not muddle away a fine fortune 
 in fattening Durham bulls, and Berkshire boars ; neither shall he excel 
 in rearing mangel wurtzel or beet-root. I'll teach him to have a soul 
 above sub-soiling, and a spirit above green crops. He shall not fall inta 
 the hands of Downie Meek, and barter his birth-right for a Whig 
 Baronetcy ; neither shall he be the victim of right honourable artifices, 
 and marry a Lady Juliana, or Cecilia. In fine, I'll secure him from 
 public meetings and agricultural societies, twaddling dinners, horticul- 
 tural breakfasts, the Irish academy and Mrs. White. 
 
 " These are great deservings indeed," said Lord Charles, affectedly. 
 
 " So they are," said the other ; " nor do I believe there is another 
 man about town could pilot the channel but myself. It is only reason- 
 able, then, if I save the craft, that I should claim the salvage. Now, 
 the next point is, will you be one of the crew ? I'll take you with 
 pleasure, but there's no impressment. All I ask is secrecy, whether 
 you say yea or nay." 
 
 " Let me hear what the service is to be like." 
 
 " Well, we shall first of all cruise —confound metaphors. — Let us talk 
 plainly. Cashel has given me a carte blanche to fill his house with 
 guests and good things. The company and the cuisine are both to be 
 among my attributions, and I intend that we should do the thing right 
 royally. Selection and exclusiveness are, of course, out of the question. 
 There are so many cock-tails to run — there can be no disqualification. 
 Om' savage friend, in fact, insists on asking every body he sees, and we 
 
136 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 are lucky if we escape the Infantry and the Junior Bar. Here's the iist^ 
 a goodly catalogue truly and such a Macedoine of incongruities has 
 heen rarely assembled, even at old Kennyfeck's dinner table." 
 
 *' Why I see few others than the people we met there t'other day." 
 
 " Not many ; but please to remember that even a country house has 
 limits, and that some of the guests, at least, must have separate rooms. 
 To be serious, Charley, I have misused the King's press damnably ; we 
 have such a party as few have ever witnessed. There are the KilgofFs, 
 the Whites, the Hamiltons, along with the Clan Kennyfeck, the Ridleys, 
 and Mathew Hannigan, Esquire, of Bally- Hannigan, the new Member of 
 Parliament for Dunrone, and the last convert to the soothing doctrines 
 of Downie Meek." 
 
 " Is Downie coming ?" lisped the Aide-de-camp. 
 
 " Ay, and his daughter too. He wrote one of his velvety epistles, 
 setting forth the prayer of his petition, in favour of ' a little girl, yet only 
 in the nursery.' " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; I know all that. Well^ I'm not sorry. I like Jemmy. 
 She is a confounded deal better than her father, and is a capital weight 
 to put on a young horse, and a very neat hand too. Who next ? Not 
 the Dean, I hope." 
 
 *' No ; we divided on the Dean, and carried his exclusion by a large 
 majority. Mrs. Kennyfeck was, I believe, alone in the lobby." 
 
 ** Glad of that ! No one can expect an Irish visit in the country 
 without rain, and he's an awful fellow to be caged with, when out-o'- 
 door work is impracticable." 
 
 *' Then, there are the Latrobes and the Heath erbys ; in fact, the old 
 set, with a Polish fellow, of course a Count — Deuroominski ; a literary 
 touiist, brought by Mrs. White, called Howie ; and a small little dark 
 man, one used to see two seasons ago, that sings the melodies and tells 
 Irish legends — I forget the name." 
 
 " Promiscuous and varied, certainly ; and what is the order of the 
 course ? Are there to be games, rural sports, fire -works, soaped pigS; 
 and other like intellectualities ?" 
 
 " Precisely, a kind of coming-of-age thing on a grand scale. I have en- 
 gaged Somerton's chef, he has just left his place. Gunter sends over one 
 of his people ; and Dubos, of the Cadran Beu, is to forward two hampers 
 per week from Paris. Hicksley is also to provide all requisites for private 
 theatricals. In fact, nearly every thing has been attended to, save the horse 
 department ; I wish you'd take that under your protectorate ; we shall want 
 any number of screws, for saddle and harness, with drags, breaks, and ma- 
 chines of all kinds ; to drive about in. Do, pray, be master of the horse." 
 
 *' Thanks ; but 1 hate and detest trouble of all kinds. So far as 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 137 
 
 selling you two of my own — a wall-eye and a bone-spavin included — 
 I consent.*' 
 
 " Agreed ; every thing in your stable carries a side-saddle, that I 
 know, so name your figure." 
 
 '* A hundred ; they'd bring close on fifty at Dycers any day ; so^ 
 I am not exorbitant, as these are election times/' 
 
 " There's the ticket, then," said Linton, taking out a check-book and 
 filling up a leaf for the sum, which he tore out and presented to Lord 
 Charles. 
 
 " What, has he really so far installed you as to — " 
 
 " As to give blank checks," said the other, holding up the book in 
 evidence, where "Roland Cashel" was written on a vast number of pages. 
 " I never knew the glorious sense of generosity before, Charley. I 
 have^heard a great deal about liberal sentiments, and all that kind o 
 thing ; but now, for the first time, do I feel the real enjoyment of 
 indulgence. To understand this liberty aright, however, a man must 
 have a squeeze — such a squeeze as I have experienced myself once or 
 twice in life ; and then, my boy, as the song says," — here, with a bold 
 rattling air, he sung to a popular melody — 
 
 When of luck you've no card up. 
 
 And feel yourself " hard-up," 
 And cannot imagine a method to win ; 
 
 When " friends" take to shy you, 
 
 And Jews to deny you, 
 How pleasant to dip in another man's tin. 
 
 Not seeking or craving, 
 
 Some pettyful saving ; 
 You draw as you like upon Drumraond or Gwynne. 
 
 And while pleasure pursuing, 
 
 You know there's no ruing 
 The cost that comes out of another man's tin. 
 
 **Eh, Charley! that's the toast we « Chevaliers' Modernes' should 
 drink before the health of the Royal Family." 
 
 " The Royal Family !" sneered Frobisher ; " I never observed that 
 loyalty was a very remarkable trait in your character." 
 
 " The greater injustice yours, then," said Linton. " I conceived a 
 very early attachment to Monarchy, on learning the importance of the 
 King at Ecart^." 
 
 " I should have thought the Knave had more of your sympathy," said 
 the other. 
 
 " Inasmuch as he follows the Queen, I suppose," said Linton, good- 
 humouredly, laughing, " but come, don't look so grave, old fellow ; had I 
 
WBs ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 been a political ^ inCriguanf and devoted these goodly talents of mine to 
 small state rogueries In committees and adjourned debates, I'd have been 
 somebody in these dull times of aspiring mediocrity, but as my ambi- 
 tions have never soared beyond the possession of what may carry on the 
 war of life, irrespective of its graver honours, you moralists — Heaven 
 "bless the mark ! — rather regard me distrustfully. Now, let me tell you 
 a secret, and it's one worth the knowing. There's nothing so fatal to a 
 man's success in life as * a little character'; a really great one may dis- 
 pense with every kind of ability and acquirement, get your name once 
 Tip in our English public, and you may talk, preach, and write the most 
 rank nonsense with a very long impunity ; but a little character, like a 
 small swimming bladder, only buoys you up long enough to reach deep 
 water, and be drowned. To journey the road of life with this, is to 
 * carry weight.' Take my advice — I give it in all sincerity — you are 
 as poor a man as myself; there are thousands of luxuries you can 
 afford yourself, but this is too costly an indulgence for a small fortune. 
 Your * little character' is a kind of cankering conscience, not strong 
 enough to keep you out of wickedness, but sufficiently active to make 
 you miserable afterwards, An everlasting suggester of small scruples, 
 it leaves a man no time for any thing but petty expedients and devices, 
 and you hang suspended all your life between desire and denial, without 
 the comfort of the one or the credit of the other." 
 
 " Is the sermon over ?" said Lord Charles, rather affecting than really 
 feeling tired of the " tirade," *^ or are you only rehearsing the homily be- 
 fore you preach it to Roland Cashel ?" 
 
 " Quite wrong there, my Lord," said Linton, with the same imper- 
 turbable temper. " Cashel is rich enough to afford himself any caprice, 
 even a good name, if he like it. You and I must take ours as we Vlo 
 railway tickets, any number that's given us," and with thls^ speech, 
 delivered in an air of perfect quietude, but still emphatically slow, he 
 settled his hat on before the glass, arranged his whiskers, and walked 
 away. 
 
 Lord Charles for a second seemed disposed to make an angry reply, 
 but correcting the impulse, he walked to the window in silence. " I have 
 half a mind to spoil your game, my worthy friend," muttered he, as the 
 other passed across the court-yard ; " one word to Cashel would do it. 
 To be sure it is exploding the mine with one's own hand to the fuze ; 
 that's to be thought of," and, so saying, he lay down on the sofa to 
 ruminate. 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 139 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Not half so skilled in means and ways, 
 The "hungry Greek" of classic days, 
 His cards with far less cunning plays, 
 
 Than eke, our modern sharper ! 
 
 When Linton had determined within himself to make Cashel "his 
 own." His first care was to withdraw him from the daily society of the 
 Kenny fecks, by whose familiar intercourse a great share of influence 
 was already enjoyed over their young guest. This was not so easy a 
 task as he had at first imagined. Cashel had tasted of the pleasant 
 fascination of easy intimacy with two young and pretty girls, eagerly 
 bent on being agreeable to him. He was in all the full enjoyment of 
 that rare union, the pleasure of being at home and yet an honoured 
 guest ; and it was only when Linton suggested that late hours and irre- 
 gular habits were but little in accordance with the decorous propriety of 
 a family, that Cashel yielded, and consented to remove his residence to 
 a great furnished house in "Stephen's Green," where some by-gone 
 Chancellor once held his state. 
 
 Linton well knew that if " Necessity" be the mother of invention, that 
 *• Propinquity" is the father of love. That there is nothing so sug- 
 gestive of the tender passion as that lackadaisical state to which loung- 
 ing at home contributes, and the chance meetings with a pretty girl. The 
 little intercourse on the stairs going down to breakfast, the dalliance in 
 the conservator}'-, the chit-chat before dinner, are far more formidable 
 than all the formal meetings under the blaze of wax -lights, and amid 
 the crush of white satin. 
 
 " If I leave him much longer among them," said he to himself, "he'll 
 marry one of these girls ; and then adieu to all influence over him ! 
 No more ecart6 — no more indiscriminate purchases of every thing I 
 propose — no more giving ' the odds against the field.' A wife and a 
 wife's family are heavy recognizances against a bachelor friend's 
 counsels." 
 
 Cashel was really sorry to leave the house, where his time had passed' 
 so pleasantly. The very alternation of his interest regarding the two 
 sisters had kept his mind in a state of pleasant incertitude, now, seeing 
 something to prefer in this, now in that, while, at the same time, sug° 
 gesting on their part greater efforts to please and amuse him. If Mr. 
 
140 BOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Kennyfeck deemed Cashers removal a very natural step, and one which 
 his position in some sort demanded, not so his wife. She inveighed 
 powerfully against the dangerous intimacy of Linton, and the ruinous 
 consequences such an ascendency would lead to. " You should tell Mr. 
 Cashel who this man is," said she, imperiously. 
 
 *' But that is exactly what nobody knows," meekly responded Mr. 
 Kenny feck. 
 
 " Pshaw, every one knows all about him ! You can tell him how- 
 he ruined young Rushbrook, and in less than two years left him with- 
 out a shilling.*' 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck shook his head, as though to say that the evidence 
 was by no means conclusive on that count. 
 
 " Yes, you may aifect not to believe it," said she, angrily, " but 
 didn't George Lawson see the check for eight thousand paid to Lintoa 
 at Latouche's bank, and that, was one evening's work." 
 
 "There was a great deal of high play, I've heard, among them.'* 
 
 "Oh, indeed! you've heard that much," said she, scornfully; 
 " probably, too, you heard how Linton paid seventy thousand pounds 
 for part of the Dangwood estate, — he, that had not sixpence three 
 months previous. I tell you, Mr. Kennyfeck, that you have labored to very 
 little purpose to establish this young man's claim, if you are to stand 
 by and see his property portioned among sharpers. There ! don't start 
 and look so frightened ; there's nobody listening, and if there were 
 too, I don't care. I tell you, Mr. Kennyfeck, that if it weren't for your 
 foolish insufficiency, Cashel would propose for Olivia. Yes! the thing 
 is plain as possible. He fell in love with her the very night he arrived. 
 Every one saw it. Jane Lyons told me how it was remarked the day 
 the company dined here. Levvard told all over Dublin how she chose 
 the diamonds, and that Cashel distinctly referred to her before buying 
 them. Then, they were seen together driving through the streets. 
 "What more would you have ? And now you suffer all this to be undone 
 for the selfish objects of Mr. Linton ; but I tell you, Mr. Kennyfeck, 
 if you're a fool, I am not." 
 
 " But really I don't see — " 
 
 " You don't see I I'm sure you do not. You'd see, however, if it 
 were a case for an action in the Courts — a vulgar appeal to twelve 
 greasy jurors — you'd see then. There is quite enough for a shabby 
 verdict! But I regard the affair very differently, and I tell you frankly, 
 if I see Cashel draw off in his attentions, 1 11 send for my cousin 
 O'Gorman. I believe you can assure your young client that he'll find 
 there's no joking with him." 
 
 Now this vvas the " most unkindest cut of all ;" for if report spoke truly, 
 
KOLAKD CASHEL. 141 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck had himself experienced from that gentleman, a species 
 of moral force impulsion, -which left the most unpleasant reminiscences 
 behind. 
 
 " I beseech you to remember, Mrs. Kennyfeck, that this agency is one 
 of the best in Ireland." 
 
 " So much the more reason to have the principal, your son-in-law." 
 
 " I'd have you to reflect how little success coercion is like to have with 
 a person of Mr. Cashel's temper." 
 
 " Peter is the best shot in Ballinasloe," rejoined Mrs. Kennyfeck, 
 sententiously. 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck nodded a full assent ; but seemed to hazard a doubt as 
 to the efficiency of such skill . 
 
 " I repeat, Sir, I'll send for him. Peter knows pretty well what 
 ought to be done in such matters, and it's a comfort to think there is 
 some spirit on one side of the family, at least." Whether to afford a 
 practical illustration, albeit negatively, or that he dreaded a continuance 
 of the controversy, Mr. Kennyfeck feigned a business appointment, and 
 retired, leaving his spouse to ponder over her threat, and resolve with her- 
 self as to the advantage of Peter's alliance. 
 
 While this conjugal discussion engaged papa and mamma, Cashel was 
 endeavouring to explain to the fair daughters the reasons for his departure, 
 affecting to see that the multiplicity of his engagements and duties 
 required a step which he owned was far from agreeable to his feel- 
 ings. 
 
 "I suspected how soon you would weary of us," said Olivia, in a 
 half- whisper. 
 
 *• We ought to have remembered, Livy," said the elder sister, " how 
 little would our claims upon Mr. Cashel appear, when confronted with 
 those of a higher station in the world." 
 
 *' I assure you, you wrong both yourselves and me. I never '* 
 
 " Oh, I'm certain you never imagined this step. I can well believe, 
 that if it were not for advice, not very disinterested, perhaps — that you 
 would have still condescended to regard this as your home." 
 
 '' If I suspected that this removal' would In the least affect the senti- 
 ments I entertain for my kind friends here, or in any way alter those, I 
 trust they feel for me, I'd never have adopted, or, having adopted, 
 never execute it." 
 
 " We are really very much to blame, Mr. Cashel," said Olivia, bash- 
 fully, " in suffering our feelings to sway you on a matter like this. It 
 was only too kind of you to come here at first j and perhaps even yet 
 you will come occasionally to see us." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Cashel, Livy is right ; we are very selfish in our wishes, 
 
1^2 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 and very inconsiderate besides. Your position in the Tvoild requires a 
 certain mode of living", a certain class of a,cquaintances, which are not 
 ours. It is far better, then, that we should resign ourselves to an inter- 
 ruption, than wait for an actual breach of intimacy." 
 
 Cashel was totally at a loss to see how his mere change of residence 
 could possibly imply a whole train of altered feelings and relations, and 
 was about to express his astonishment on that score, when Linton's 
 phaeton drove up to the door, according to an appointment they had 
 made the day before, to breakfast with the officers of a regiment quar- 
 tered a short distance from town. 
 
 " There is your friend, Mr. Cashel," said Miss Kennyfeck, with a 
 marked emphasis on the word. Cashel muttered something about a 
 rendezvous, and took up his hat, when a servant entered to request 
 he would favour Mr. Kennyfeck with a brief interview before going 
 out '' 
 
 " Are we to see you at dinner, to-day ?" said Olivia, languidly. 
 
 " I hope so. Mrs. Kennyfeck has been kind enough to ask me, and T 
 hope to have the pleasure." 
 
 " Will Mr. Linton give leave ?" said Miss Kennyfeck, laughing ; and 
 then seeing a cloud on Cashel's brow, added, " I meant, if you had made 
 no appointment with him." 
 
 *' I'm self-willed enough to follow my own bent, generally," said he, 
 abruptly, and left the room . 
 
 " You owe that gentleman a heavy grudge, Livy," said Miss Kenny- 
 feck, as she approached the window and looked out. 
 
 " Who do you mean, dear ?" 
 
 " Mr. Linton. Were it not for him, 1 half think, you might have 
 succeeded." 
 
 " I really cannot comprehend you," cried the younger, with well 
 assumed astonishment. 
 
 " Of course not, my dear. Still, it was a difficult game, even if left 
 all to yourself. He was always likely to smash the tackle at the moment 
 wben almost caught. There, don't look so puzzled, dear, I was only 
 following out a little reverie — that's all." 
 
 Meanwhile Cashel hastily descended the stairs, not over good-humour- 
 edly commenting on Mr. Kennyfeck's ill-chosen moment for a business 
 conversation.. " I can only stay a few minutes, or rather seconds," cried 
 he, as he opened the door of the study, and then checked himself as 
 he perceived a short, stout, elderly man of venerable appearance, who 
 rose respectfully from his chair as he came in. 
 
 "Doctor Tiernay, Mr. Cashel," said Kennyfeck, presenting the 
 fitranger. " I have taken the liberty to delay you, Sir, since it would be 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 143 
 
 a great convenience if you could accord this gentleman a brief heariog 
 at present ; he has come above a hundred miles to crave it, and must 
 leave Dublin by the afternoon mail." 
 
 " Without it be Mr. Cashei's pleasure to detain me," said the Doctor, 
 submissively. 
 
 " He is a tenant of your Tubbermore estate, Sir," resumed Kennyfeck, 
 "a veiy near neighbour." 
 
 " I regret that I am pressed for time at this moment, Sir," said 
 Cashel, drawing on his gloves impatiently ; *' but I believe it is the less 
 consequence, inasmuch as I really know nothing — absolutely nothing, — 
 and you, Mr. Kennyfeck, know every thing about tliat property, and 
 are, by far, the best person to hear and decide upon this gentleman's 
 proposition, whatever it be.'' 
 
 " It is a case that must be decided by yourself. Sir," said the Doctor. 
 *'It is neither a matter of law or right, but a simple question of whether 
 you will do an act of great kindness to the oldest tenant on your pro- 
 perty, a man who, now overtaken by years and sickness, may not, 
 perhaps, be alive at my return, to hear of your benevolence." 
 
 *Mt is about this renewal. Sir," interposed Kennyfeck, who saw 
 Cashei's increasing impatience to be away. " Mr. Corrigan's lease ex- 
 pires on the twenty-fifth." 
 
 " He is now struck by paralysis," interrupted the Doctor ; " and his 
 only prayer is, to be suffered to die beneath the roof where he has lived 
 for fifty years." 
 
 " A tenant at will," interposed Kennyfeck. 
 
 " Gracious heaven ! how could he suppose I should dream of dispos- 
 sessing him ?" cried Cashel. " Of course, Sir ; the house is his own so 
 long as he pleases to hold it. Tell him so. Mr. Kennyfeck will tell 
 him from me, that he need not give the matter another thought. I am 
 sincerely grieved that it should have already caused him so much 
 anxiety." 
 
 " Ah, Sir ;" cried the Doctor, while two very dubious drops twinkled 
 in his eyes. " You are, indeed, worthy of the good fortune that has 
 befallen you. My poor old friend will bless you, with a prouder heart 
 in his belief in human nature, than even his gratitude could suggest. 
 Farewell, Sir, and may you long live to be as happy as you know how 
 to make others." 
 
 With an impulse of irrepressible warmth the old man seized Cashei's 
 hand in both his own, and pressed it cordially, when the door suddenly 
 opened, and Linton, dressed in a riding costume, appeared. 
 
 " What, Roland, at business so early ! Do you know you're an hour 
 behind time ?" 
 
144 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " I do ; but I couldn't help — in fact, this was unexpected — '* 
 "It was an act of benevolence, Sir, detained Mr. Cashel," interrupted 
 the Doctor. " I believe no appointment can be broken with a safer 
 apology." 
 
 "Ho! ho!"' said Linton, throwing up his eyebrows, as if he sus- 
 pected a snare to his friend's simplicity. " Which of the Missions 
 to couA^ert the Blacks, or what family of continuous twins are you 
 patronising ?" 
 
 " Good bye. Sir," said the Doctor, turning towards Cashel. " I'd ask 
 your pardon for the liberty 1 have already taken with you, if I were not 
 about to transgress again." 
 
 Here he looked Linton fully in the face. 
 
 " Mr. Cashel has done a kind and worthy action this morning. Sir ; 
 but if he does many more such, and keep your company, he is not only 
 a good man, but the strongest principled one I ever met with." 
 
 As the last word was uttered, the door closed after him, and he was 
 gone. 
 
 " So then, I'm the Mephistophiles to your Faust," said Linton, laugh- 
 ing heartily, " but what piece of credulous benevolence has cost you this 
 panegyric and me this censure ?" 
 
 ** Oh, a mere trifle," said Cashel, preparing to leave, " a simple grant 
 of renewal to an old tenant on my estate." 
 
 " Only that," said Linton, affecting the coolest indifference, while by 
 a keen glance at Kenny feck, he revealed a profound consciousness of his 
 friend's simplicity. 
 
 " Nothing more, upon my honour ; that little cottage of Tubberbeg." 
 " Not that fishing lodge beside the river, in an angle of your own de- 
 mesne ?" asked Linton, eagerly. 
 " The same— why — what of it?" 
 
 " Nothing, save that your magnanimity is but one-sided, since only 
 so late as Thursday last, when we looked over the map together, you 
 gave me that cottage until such time as you should include the farm 
 within the demesne." 
 
 " By Jupiter, and so I did," exclaimed Cashel, while a flush of shame 
 covered his face and forehead, " what a confounded memory I have. 
 "What is to be done ?" 
 
 " Oh, never fret about it," said Linton, taking his arm and leading 
 him away. " The thing is easily settled. What do I want with a cot- 
 tage ? The old gentleman is, doubtless, a fa^more rural personage than 
 I should prove. Let us not forget Aubrey's breakfast, which, if we wait 
 much longer, will be a luncheon. The ladies well, Mr. Kennyfeck ?" 
 This was the first time he had noticed that gentleman. 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 145 
 
 " Quite well, Mr. Linton," said he, bowing politely. 
 ** Pray present my respects. By the way, you don't want a side 
 saddle horse, do you ?" 
 
 ** I thank you, we are supplied." 
 
 " What a pity, I've got such a gray, with that swinging low cantering 
 action Miss Kenny feck likes ; she rides so well ! I wish she'd try him." 
 A shake of the head and a bland smile, intimated a mild refusal. 
 " Inexorable father ; come Cashel, you shall make the amende for 
 having given away my cottage ; you must buy Reginald, and make him a 
 present to the lady." 
 
 " Agreed," said Cashel, " send him over to-day ; he's mine, or rather 
 Miss Kennyfeck's. Nay, Sir, really I will not be opposed. Mr. Kenny- 
 feck, I insist." 
 
 The worthy attorney yielded, but not without reluctance, and saw 
 them depart, with, grave misgivings that the old doctor's sentiment was 
 truly spoken, and that Linton's companionship was a most unhappy 
 accident. 
 
 " I must get into Parliament," said Linton, as he seated himself be- 
 side Cashel in the phaeton, " if it were only to quote you as one of that 
 much-belied class, the Irish Landlord. The man who grants renewals 
 of his best land, on terms contracted three hundred years ago, is very 
 much wanting just now. What a sensation it will create in the House, 
 when they cry ' name, name,' and I reply that I am under a positive 
 personal injunction not to name, and then Sharman Crawford or one of 
 that set, rises and avers that he believed the Honourable and Learned 
 Gentleman's statement to be perfectly unfounded. Amid a deluge of 
 * Oh's !' I stand up and boldly declare that further reserve is no longer 
 possible, and that the gentleman whom I am so proud to call my friend 
 is Roland Cashel, Esq., of Tubbermore. There's immortality for you for 
 that evening at any rate. You'll be toasted at Bellamy's, at supper, 
 and by the white-headed old gentlemen who sit in the window at the 
 Carlton." 
 
 " You'll not hint that I had already made a present of the lands, 
 when I displayed so much munificence," said Cashel, smiling. 
 
 *' Not a syllable ; but I'll tell the secret to the opposition if you ever 
 grow restive," said Linton, with a laugh ; in which, had Roland studied 
 Lavater, he might have read a valuable lesson. 
 
 *' Apropos, of Parliament — Kennyfeck persists in boring me about it, 
 and that Mr. Downie Meek seems to have it at heart, that I am to re- 
 present something or somebody, well knowing the while, that I cannot 
 possibly be supposed to understand anything of the interests whereon I 
 should be called to vote and legislate." 
 
 L 
 
146 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " That's not so much consequence," said Linton, " you'd find a very 
 strong section of the House very like yourself, but the thing would bore 
 you ; you would neither like the fatigue nor the slavery of it ; and, 
 positively, there is no excitement, save for the half dozen who really 
 contest the race. Meek, and others of the same stamp, will tell you, that 
 property should be represented in the legislature. I agree fully with the 
 sentiment — so it should. So also should a man's rents be collected, but 
 that's no reason he should be his own agent, when he can find another, far 
 more capable, ready for the office — Touch that off-side horse, he'll skulk 
 his collar when he can — Now, if you have county or borough influence 
 going a begging, send in your nominee, any fellow who'll suit your 
 views, and express your opinions — myself, for instance," said he, laugh- 
 ing, " for want of a better — Those manes don't lie right, that near- 
 sider's falls on the wrong side of the neck — The great secret for any man, 
 situated as you are, is, to avoid all complications, political, social, and 
 matrimonial. You have a glorious open country before you, if there be 
 no cross- riding to spoil your run." 
 
 " Well, I am not above taking advice," said Cashel, ''but really I must 
 own, that, from the little I've seen of the matter, it seems harder to go 
 through life with a good fortune than without a shilling. I know that, 
 as a poor man, very lately" 
 
 " Come, come, you know very little of what poverty means ; you've 
 been leading a gay life in a land where men do, by one bold enterprise, 
 the work, which costs years of slow toil in our tamer regions. Now I 
 should have liked that kind of thing, myself. Aye, you may smile, that 
 a man who devotes a large share of each day to the tie of his cravat, 
 and the immaculate elegance of his boots, should venture to talk of Prairie 
 life, and adventure. Take care — by Jove ! I thought you were into that 
 apple-stall." 
 
 " Never say it twice," cried Cashel, gaily. " I'm beginning to feel 
 confoundedly tired of this life here ; and, if I don't find that it improves 
 on acquaintance, I'll take a run down west, just to refresh my spirits. 
 "Will you come with me?" 
 
 " With my whole heart I join the proposal ; but you are not serious ; 
 I know you are merely jesting in all this." 
 
 '* Perfectly serious. I am decidedly weary of seven o'clock dinners 
 and morning calls ; but here we are — " 
 
 As he spoke they drove into the barrack-yard, where groups of 
 lounging officers, in every variety of undress, were seen in all the insipid 
 enjoyment of that cigar-smoking existence, which forms the first article 
 in our military code of education. 
 
 The gallant — the Light Dragoons were a " fast regiment," and the in- 
 
EOLAIsD CASHEL. 147 
 
 ventors of that new locomotive on the road to ruin, called " a mess 
 breakfast" — a meal, where champagne flows with a profusion rarely 
 seen at dinner, and by which men begin the day in a frame of mind 
 that would not be very decorous even when concluding it. Cashel, 
 being a honoured guest, drank wine with every one, not to speak of 
 participating in various little bibatory trios and quartettes, so that, when 
 the entertainment drew to a close, he was very far from that self- 
 possession and command which, with all his high spirits, seldom de- 
 serted him. 
 
 A tremendous fall of rain, that showed no prospect of ceasing, had 
 just set in, so that the party agreed to repair to the 3Iajor's rooms, and 
 make a pool at ecarte. After some talking about play in general, and 
 some quizzing about not being able to bet a sura such as Cashel would 
 care to play for, the game began. 
 
 Notwithstanding the apologies, the play was high, so much so, that 
 Cashel, never a very shrewd observer, could not help remarking, that 
 several of the players could not conceal the anxiety the game in- 
 spired. 
 
 Roland himself joined less from inclination than fellowship, and far 
 better pleased to be at liberty to chat with some of the others, than to be 
 seated at the table, he arose each time he lost, well content to pay 
 for freedom, by his gold. His natural indifference, added to a perfect 
 carelessness about money, induced him to accept any bet that was 
 offered, and these were freely proposed, since, in play parlance, " the 
 run was against him," so that, ere the trumpet-call announced the time 
 to dress for the mess, he had lost heavily. 
 
 " You have no idea how much you have lost," said Linton, in alow 
 voice, and with a gravity of manner almost reproachful. 
 
 " Not the slightest," said Cashel, laughing. 
 
 " I can tell you, then, for I have totted it up. This morning's work 
 has cost you seven thousand some hundred pounds." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Cashel, a flush rather of shame than displeasure 
 mantling on his features. " I'll give it up, in future." 
 
 "No, no!" not till you've had your revenge," whispered Linton. 
 "AYe'U stay for the mess, and have at them again. The night is 
 terrific, and no possibility of leaving." 
 
 The mess followed, and although play was to succeed it, the party 
 drank freely, and sat long over their wine, even Linton himself, seeming 
 to linger at the table, and leave it with regret. 
 
 As for Cashel, for the first time in his life, he wished to play. No 
 desire for money-getting, no mean passion for gain suggested the wish. 
 
 L 2 
 
148 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 It was simply a piqued vanity at being beaten — a sense of indignity that 
 his inferiority should seem to be implied, even in so trifling a matter, 
 urged him on, and he was one of the first to vote for a return to the 
 Ecarte. 
 
 Except Linton, there was not probably one who could be called a 
 good player in the party — but luck, which has more than the mastery 
 over skilJ, supplied the place of knowledge, and Cashel was the only 
 heavy loser of the whole assembly. Stung by continued failure too, 
 he betted madly and foolishly, so that as day was breaking and the stir 
 in the Barrack yard announced the approaching parade, his losses 
 reached more than double what they had been in the morning. 
 
 "I say, lads!" said the Major, as they all arose from the table, 
 *' one word before you go," so saying, he turned the key in the door, 
 and stood with his back against it. "Before any one leaves the room 
 each must promise on his honour not to mention a syllable of this 
 night's business. We all know that we have been playing far higher 
 stakes than ever we've been in the habit of. The report if it get 
 abroad, would ruin the regiment." 
 
 " Oh, we all promise not a word shall be said about it," cried out 
 several voices together. " There's the second trumpet !" so saying, they 
 hastened pell-mell to dress for the parade, while Cashel, taking Linton's 
 arm, set out homewards. 
 
 " I say, Tom !" said Roland, after they had walked on for some time in 
 silence, " I am somewhat ashamed of this exploit of mine, and would 
 not for a great deal that Kennyfeck should know it. Is there no way 
 of getting this money by loan — for if I draw now — " 
 
 " Make your mind quite easy, I'll arrange that for you. Don't worry 
 yourself about it. It's a bore of course to lose a round sum like that ; 
 but you can afltbrd it, my boy, that's one comfort. If it had been me, 
 by Jove, the half of it would have drained the well !" This said, he 
 hastily changed the topic, and they walked along chatting of every thing 
 save the late party. 
 
f 
 
E03.AXD CASHEL. 149 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " The money that ' at play ' is spent, 
 Must oft be raised at ' cent, per cent.'" 
 
 " The Mode." 
 
 " Good niglit^ or rather good morrow," said Linton, as he stood with 
 Cashel on the steps of his newly taken residence. 
 
 Cashel made no reply ; his thoughts were recurring to the scene of 
 the late debauch, and in some pangs of self-reproach he was recalHng 
 the heavy sum he had lost. " You spoke of my being able to raise this 
 money, Linton, without Kennyfeck's knowing ; for I am really ashamed 
 of the affair. Tell me how can it be done ?" 
 
 " Nothing easier." 
 
 " Nay, but when ? for if I must confess it, I can think of nothing else 
 till it be arranged." 
 
 " What a timid conscience yours must be/' said Linton, laughing, 
 " that cannot sleep lest the ghosts of his I. O.'s should haunt him.'' 
 
 " The fact is so, nevertheless. The very few gloomy moments of 
 my life have been associated with play transactions. This shall be the 
 last." 
 
 *' AVhat folly. You suffer mere passing impressions to wear deep into 
 your nature ; you that should be a man of nerve and vigour. What 
 can it possibly signify that you have thrown away a few hundreds, or a 
 few thousands either ?" 
 
 '* Very little as regards the money, I own ; but I'm not certain how 
 long my indifference respecting play might last. I am not sure how 
 long I could endure being beaten — for that is the sense losing suggests to 
 me — without a desire to conquer in turn. Now up to this I have played to 
 oblige others, without interest or excitement of any kind. W'hat if I 
 should change and become a gambler from choice." 
 
 " W^hy, if you propound the question with that solemn air, you'll almost 
 frighten me into believing it would be something very terrible ; but if 
 you ask me simply, ' What would be the result of your growing fond of 
 play ?' I'll tell you fairly, it's a pleasure gained, one of the few resources 
 which only a rich man can afford with impunity, and so much the more 
 fascinating, that it can be indulged in such perfect accordance with every 
 humour of a man's mind. If you're so inclined, you play low, and coquet 
 with fortune, or if lavishly given, you throw the reins loose and go free. 
 
150 KOLA^^D CASHEL. 
 
 Now it seems to me that nothing could better suit the careless, open- 
 handed freedom of your habits than the vacillations of high play. It's the 
 only way that even for a moment you can taste the sensation of being 
 hard pressed, while in the high flood of luck you can feel that gushing 
 sense of power that somehow seems to be the secret soul of gold !" 
 
 " Men must lose with a very different look upon their features before 
 I can win with the ecstasy you speak of," cried Cashel. " But where 
 are we straying to — what part of the town have we got into?" 
 
 "This is the cattle-market," said Linton, "and I have brought you 
 here because I saw you'd not close your eyes till that silly affair was 
 settled, and here we are now at Dan Hoare's counting-house, the man of 
 all others to aid us ; follow me ; I ought to know the stairs well in day- 
 light or dark." 
 
 Cautiously following his guide, Cashel mounted a half-rotten, creaky 
 stair, which passed up between two damp and mildewed walls, and en- 
 tered a small chamber, whose one v.indow looked out into a dirty court. 
 The only furniture consisted of two deal chairs and a table, on which 
 various inscriptions made by pen-knives betokened the patience and zeal 
 of former visitors. 
 
 Linton passed on to the end of the chamber, where was a narrow door, 
 but suddenly halted as his eye caught a little slip of paper attached to a 
 sliding panel, and which bore the word "engaged." " Ha!" cried he, 
 <' one here already ! you see early as it is, Dan is at work, discounting and 
 protesting, as usual. By the way, I have forgot one essential, he never 
 gives a stamp, and so I must provide one. Wait for me here ; there 
 is a place in the neighbourhood where they can be had, and Fll be back 
 presently." 
 
 Cashel sat himself down in the cheerless little den, thinking of the 
 many who might have waited there before, in so many frames of anxiety 
 and torturing suspense. His own memory could recall a somewhat 
 similar character in Geizheimer, and while he was thus remembering 
 some features of the past, he fell into a reverie, forgetting time and place 
 together, the sound of voices from the adjoining room serving rather 
 to lull than arouse his attention. At last a word caught his ear. He 
 started suddenly, and looking about him for a second, experienced almost 
 a difficulty to remember where he was. Could it be possible, or Avas it 
 mere fancy, but he believed he heard his name mentioned by some one 
 within that room. Less caring to know how or by whom the name 
 was spoken, than if the fact were actually so, he leaned forward on his 
 chair, and bent his ear to listen : when he heard, in a voice louder than 
 had been used before, the following words : 
 
 " It may be all as you say, Sir ; I won't pretend to throw a doubt 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 151 
 
 upon your words ; but, as a mere man of business, I may be permitted to 
 say, that this promise, however satisfactory to your friend's feelings, is 
 not worth a sixpence in law. Corrigan asks for a renewal of his lease, 
 and the other says * keep your holding — don't disturb yourself,' and 
 there he is, a tenant at will. Now, for the purposes you have in view 
 towards me, that pledge goes for nothing. I cannot renew these bills 
 upon such frail security. If the old man cannot find means to meet 
 them, Leicester must, that's all." 
 
 " Leicester is a viDain!" cried another and a deeper voice, whose tones 
 seemed not quite strange to Roland's ears. " He has ruined my poor 
 old friend ; he will soon leave him houseless : and he threatens to leave 
 him almost friendless, too." 
 
 "He told me," said the other, " he should certainly claim his daughter, 
 and means to return next summer for that purpose." 
 
 " I almost hope poor Con will never live to see that day,'* said the 
 former, with a heavy sigh. 
 
 "Well, to return to our own affair, Sir, I tell you, frankly, I don't consi- 
 der Cashel's promise deserving of any consideration . He, doubtless, means 
 to keep it ; that's the very most any body can say about it. But remem- 
 ber what a life he is leading : he has drawn above thirty thousand out 
 of Latrobe's hands in three months ; no one knows for what. He has 
 got among a set of men who play high, and cannot pay if they 
 lose. Now, his estate is a good one ; but it can't last for ever. My 
 notion is, that the young fellow will end as he begun, and become a 
 Buccaneer once more." 
 
 " He has a long course to run ere that comes," said the other. 
 
 *' Not so long as you fancy. There are demands upon him from 
 quarters you little suspect, or that, for the moment, he little suspects 
 himself. It would surprise you to hear that he is in Leicester's hands too." 
 
 *' Roland Cashel, Mr. Cashel, in Leicester's hands ! How do you 
 mean ?" 
 
 Just at this instant Linton's foot was heard ascending the stairs, and 
 Cashel, whose eagerness to hear the remainder became a perfect- torture 
 of anxiety, was forced to lose the opportunity. 
 
 " What a hunt I have had," said Linton, as he entered, flushed and 
 weary-looking. *' Our amount is rather above the ordinary mark, and 
 I found it almost impossible to procure the stamps. Are you tired 
 waiting ?" 
 
 " No ; nothing to speak of," said Cashel, confusedly. 
 
 " Well, I fancy our friend here has had much more than his share of 
 an audience. I'll see and unearth him." 
 
 And so saying, Linton knocked with his cane at the door j a low 
 
152 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 murmuring of voices succeeded, the sound of feet followed, and soon 
 after the door was opened, and a small thin pale-faced man in black ap- 
 peared. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Hoare. Here have we been playing anti- 
 chamber to your serene highness for full an hour. This is Mr. Ro- 
 land Cashel, Mr. Hoare, who wishes to make your acquaintance." 
 
 The little man turned his quick gray eyes towards Cashel, with a 
 most scrutinising keenness ; but, as suddenly withdrawing them, invited 
 both to enter. 
 
 " Be seated, Gentlemen. Pardon the humble accommodation of this 
 place. Take a chair, Mr. Linton.'' 
 
 " We want tin, Mr. Hoare," said Linton, slapping his boot with his 
 cane : " that most universal and vulgar want. My friend here desires 
 to raise a sum, without having recourse to his agent, and I believe no 
 man can aid in a little secret-service transaction like yourself." 
 
 *' Is the sum a large one. Sir?" said Hoare, addressing Cashel. 
 
 " I cannot tell you exactly," said Cashel, in some confusion, at the 
 confession of his ignorance. *' I fancy it must be close on ten or twelve 
 tliousand pounds.'^ 
 
 ** More like twenty !" cried Linton, coolly. Then turning to Hoare 
 he went on. " My friend here is, happily for him, very little skilled in 
 affairs of this kind ; and as his security is about the best that can be 
 offered, he need not buy his experience very dearly. Now just tell us 
 frankly, how? when? and on what terms he can have this money?" 
 
 •'* Money is scarce just now. Sir," said Hoare; " but as to securities, 
 Mr. Cashel's bills are quite sufficient. There is no necessity for any 
 legal expenses whatever. I need not say that the transaction shall be 
 perfectly secret ; in fact, I'll keep the bills in my own hands till due." 
 
 " There, that's the man I told you he was," cried Linton. '' A 
 Croesus in generosity as in gold. I would I were your son, or your 
 son-in-law, Hoare." 
 
 *' Too much honour, Mr. Linton," said the money-lender, whose 
 slight flush did not betoken a concurrence in his own words. "Now to 
 business," continued he, addressing Cashel. " If you favour me with 
 your name on four bills for five thousand each, and the accompanying 
 charges for interest, discount, commission, and so on, I'll engage that 
 you have this money within the week." 
 
 " Could it not be to-morrow ; I should like greatly to have the 
 whole off my mind ; and as I mean not to play again — " 
 
 " Pooh, pooh," said Linton, stopping an explanation he was by no 
 means pleased Hoare should hear ; " time enough for resolutions and 
 time enough for payment, too. By the end of the week, Hoare, will do 
 
The Money Lender 
 
BOLAND CASHEL. 153 
 
 perfectly. You can bring the bills with you to my quarters, say on 
 Saturday morning, and we'll drive over to Mr. Cashel's." 
 
 " Very well, sir. I'll be punctual. At eleven, on Saturday, expect 
 me. May I bring that little thing of yours for 200/. with it, Mr. 
 Linton ?" 
 
 " Of course, you may not. Where do you expect me to find money 
 for the debts of last year ? My dear Hoare, I have no more memory 
 for such things than I have for the sorrows of childhood." 
 
 " Ah, very well, sir, we'll keep it over," said Hoare, smiling. 
 
 " Let him bring it," whispered Cashel, " and include it in one of my 
 bills. There's nothing so worrying as an overhanging debt." 
 
 " Do you think so ?" replied Linton. " Bless me. I never felt that. 
 A life without duns is Hke a sky without a cloud, very agreeable for a 
 short time, but soon becoming wearisome from very monotony. You 
 grow as sick of uninterrupted blue as ever you did of impending rain 
 and storm. Let me have the landscape effect of hght and shadow over 
 existence. The brilliant bits are then ten times as glorious in colour, 
 and the dark shadows of one's mortgages only heighten the warmth of 
 the picture. Ask Hoare, there, he'll tell you. I actually cherish my 
 debts." 
 
 " Very true, sir ; you cannot bear to part with them either." 
 
 " Well said, old Moses, the ' interest' they inspire is too strong for 
 one's feelings. But hark! I hear some fresh arrivals without. Another 
 boat-load of the d d has crossed the Styx." 
 
 " Thanks for the simile, sir," said Hoare, smiling faintly — "on Satur- 
 day." 
 
 " On Saturday," repeated Linton. 
 
 Cashel lingered as he left the room ; a longing desire to speak one 
 word — to ask one question of Hoare, who was this Leicester of whom 
 he spoke ? — was uppermost in his mind, and yet he did not dare to own 
 he had heard the words. He could have wished too, to communicate 
 his thoughts to Linton, but a secret fear told him, that perhaps the 
 mystery might be one he would not wish revealed. 
 
 " Why so thoughtful, Roland ?" said Linton, after traversing some 
 streets in silence. " My friend Hoare has not terrified you." 
 
 "No. I was not thinking of him," said Cashel. '' What kind of 
 character does he bear ?'* ' 
 
 " Pretty much that of all his class. Sharp enough, when sharpness 
 is called for, and seemingly liberal if liberality pays better. To 
 me he has been ever generous. Why, Heaven knows, I suppose the 
 secret will out one of these days. I'm sure I don't ask for it." 
 
154 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Linton's flippancy, for the first time, was distasteful to Cashel. If the 
 school in which he was bred taught little remorse about the sin of incurring 
 debt, it inculcated, however, a manly self-reliance, to clear off the incum- 
 brance by some personal effort, and he by no means sympathised with 
 the cool indifference of Linton's philosophy. Linton, always shrewd 
 enough to know when he had not " made a hit," at once turned the 
 conversation into another channel, by asking at what time Cashel pro- 
 posed to receive his visitors at Tubbermore. 
 
 '^ Is the honour seriously intended me ?" said Cashel, " or is it merely 
 a piece of fashionable quizzing this promised visit, for I own I scarcely 
 supposed so many fine people would like to encounter the hard usage of 
 such an old ruin as I hear this must be." 
 
 " You'll have them to a certainty. I doubt if there will be a single 
 apology ; I know at this instant the most urgent solicitations have been 
 employed to procure invitations." 
 
 " With all my heart, then," cried Cashel, " only remember the order 
 of the course depends on you. I know nothing of how they ought to be 
 entertained or amused. Take the whole affair into your own hands, 
 and I shall concur in every thing." 
 
 " Originality is always better than imitation, but still if one cannot 
 strike out a totally new line — what do you think of taking old Mathews 
 of Johnstown, for our model, and invite all our guests with free per- 
 mission to dine, breakfast, and sup at what hour, and in what parties 
 they please ? This combines the unbridled freedom of an inn, with the 
 hospitality of a country-house. Groups form as fancy dictates. New 
 combinations spring up each day — no fatigue, no emiui can ensue with 
 such endless changes in companionship, and you yourself, instead of the 
 fatiguing duties of a host, are at liberty, like any of your guests, to ' 
 join this party or that." 
 
 " I like the notion immensely — how would our friends take it, for 
 that is the point ?" 
 
 *' It would be popular with every one, for it will suit you people who 
 know and like to mix with every set in society, and at the same time 
 gratify you ' exclusives,' who can form their own little coteries — with all 
 the jealous selection they love. Besides^ it avoids another and a great 
 difficulty. Had you received in ordinary fashion, you must have asked 
 some lady-friend to have done the honours for you. This would have 
 been a matter of the greatest embarrassment. The Kennyfecks have 
 not rank enough — old Lady Janet would have frightened every one 
 away — Mrs. White would have filled the house with her own * blues,' 
 and banished every one else — and as for Lady Kilgoff, who beside being 
 a very pretty woman, and well-mannered, has an exceedingly fascinating 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 155 
 
 way with strangers, ' My Lord' is so jealous, so absurdly madly jealous, 
 that she dare not ask, after the success of a shooting-party, without his 
 suspecting an allegorical allusion to Cupid, and his shafts." 
 
 " Well, then, let us resolve to receive * en Mathews,' and now, when 
 shall we name the day ?" 
 
 " Let us wait till the result of the division be known in Parliament. 
 A change of ministers is hinted at, and if it were to occur, you'll have 
 every one hastening away to his county for the new election ; by 
 Saturday we shall learn every thing, and that will be time enough." 
 
 " In any case I had better set off and see what can be done to put 
 the house in a fit state to receive them." 
 
 *' Leave all that to me. I'll take Popham, the architect, down with 
 me, and you need never trouble your head about the matter. It's quite 
 clear people who accept an invitation like the present, must put up with 
 a hundred small penalties on convenience." 
 
 *' The liberty of such a house always repays whatever is wanting on 
 the score of ceremonial and order, and your fine guests, who would per- 
 haps give themselves airs towards the Kennyfecks and their set, — if 
 meeting them elsewhere — will here affect, at least, a tone of good- 
 natured equality, just as in revolutionary times people shake hands with 
 their hairdresser." 
 
 " But how to amuse or even occupy them ! that is a great puzzle to 
 me." 
 
 *' Leave them perfectly to their own devices. In fun there should be 
 always free trade. Protection ruins it. But all this is Egyptian to 
 you, so go to bed and sleep soundly, and leave the cares of state to me. 
 
 On me the glory or disgrace, 
 
 The pride of triumph or the shame of fall." 
 
 " Then I'll think no more of the matter," said Cashel ; " and so 
 good-bye." 
 
 " Now for a twenty-four hours' sleep," said Linton, " and then, once 
 more, to roll the stone of life, which, by the way, gives the lie to the 
 old adage, for unquestionably it does * gather moss' as we grow older." 
 
156 R0LA2^D CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 " Confound their politics !" — National Anthem. 
 
 Linton was very far from indulging that dreamy inactivity of which 
 he spoke. Plans and schemes of various kinds occupied his thoughts 
 too intently to admit of slumber. Indeed his theory was that if a man 
 could not dream of some happy mode of advancing his fortune, sleep 
 was a fearful inroad upon his worldly career. 
 
 He at once hastened home to read his letters and newspapers, and so 
 important did their intelligence seem, that he only delayed to change 
 his dress and eat a hurried breakfast, when he repaired to the Castle, 
 where a few minutes previously the secretary, Mr. Downie Meek, had 
 arrived from his lodge in the Park. 
 
 "Safe once more, Meek,'' said he, entering the official chamber, 
 where, immersed in printed returns, petitions, and remonstrances, sat 
 the busy secretary. 
 
 " Ah, Linton ! you are the bien vtnu. We are to have another heat 
 for the race, though I own it scarcely looks promising." 
 
 " Particularly as you are going to carry weight," said Linton laugh- 
 ing. " It's true, I suppose, that the Irish party have joined you ?" 
 
 " There was no help for it," said the secretary, with a despondent 
 gesture of the eyebrows ; " we had no alternative save accepting the 
 greasy voices, or go out. Some deemed the former the better course, 
 but others remembered the story of the Brahmin, who engaged to teach 
 the ass to speak in ten years, or else forfeit his own head." 
 
 " And perfectly right," interrupted Linton. " The Brahmin had 
 only three chances in his favour. Now, your king may die, too, and 
 you have any number of asses to be got rid of." 
 
 *' Let us be serious, Tom, what are our prospects at a general elec- 
 tion ? Are the landed gentry growing afraid of the O'Gorman party, 
 or are they still hanging back resentful of Peel's desertion ?" 
 
 " They are very conservative — that is they want to keep their pro- 
 perties, and pay the least possible taxation. Be cautious, however, and 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 157 
 
 you have them all your own. The Irish party heing now with you, 
 begin by some marked favour to the Protestant Church. Hear me out. 
 This will alarm the Romanists and cause a kind of split amongst them, 
 such as have, or expect to have place, will stand by you. The others 
 will show fight. You have then an opportunity of proclaiming your- 
 selves a strong Protestant cabinet, and the ultras who hate Peel will 
 at least affect to believe you. While the country is thus agitated go to 
 the elections. Your friends amid so many unsettled opinions cannot 
 be expected to take pledges, or better still they can accept any, subject 
 to various contingencies never to arise." 
 
 " I am sorely afraid of this splitting up the forces," said Meek, doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 " It's your true game, depend upon it," said Linton. " These 
 Irish allies are unwieldy — when numerous. I remember once calling 
 on Tom Scott, the trainer, one day, and while we went through the 
 stables, I could not help remarking the fine family of boys he had. 
 * Yes, sir,* said Tom, modestly, ' they're good-looking chaps and smart 
 ones. God Almighty keep 'em little, sir.'" 
 
 " Ah very true," sighed Meek, " God Almighty keep 'em little." 
 
 " Then," resumed Linton, "you have never played out that golden 
 game of Irish Legislation, which consists in enacting a law, and always 
 ruHng against it. Decide for the Education System, but promote 
 the men who oppose it. Condemn the public conduct of certain parties, 
 and then let them figure as Baronets, or Lieutenants of counties in the 
 next Gazette, and to crown all, seek out every now and then, some 
 red-hot supporter of government and degrade him from the bench of 
 magistrates for mal-administration ! This, which in England, would seem 
 rather chaotic legislation, will to Irish intelligence, smack like even- 
 handed justice." 
 
 '• We have a bad press,'' said Meek, peevishly. 
 
 " No matter, it has the less influence. Believe me, it will be an evil 
 day for you Downing-street gentlemen when Ireland possesses a really 
 able and independent press. When avoiding topics of mere irritating 
 tendency, men address themselves to the actual wants of the country, 
 exemplifying as they disclose them, the inaptitude and folly of English 
 Legislation. Don't wait for that day. Meek. In all likelihood it is 
 distant enough, but in any case don't hasten its coming by your 
 prayers." 
 
 " You mustn't broach these doctrines out of doors, Tom," said Meek, 
 in a soft caressing tone, " there is a horrid cant getting up just now, 
 against Enghsh rule, and in favour of native manufactures." 
 
 " Which be they, Meek ? I never heard of them. Maynoothis the 
 
158 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 only factory I know of in the land, and a brisk trade it has, home and 
 colonial." 
 
 " You know as well as any man the benefits we have conferred on 
 this country." 
 
 " Yes, it demands no great tax on memory to repeat them. You 
 found a starving- peasantry of a couple of millions, and being unable 
 or incompetent to aid them, you ruined the gentry — to keep them 
 company. You saw a mangy miserable dog with famine in his flank, 
 and death in his eye, and answering his appeal, to your compassion, you 
 cut an inch off his tail and told him to eat it." 
 
 " You are too bad, Tom, a great deal too bad. What are you look- 
 ing for ?" 
 
 " Nothing at this present," was the cool reply. 
 
 " What in prospective, then ?" 
 
 " I should like to be the secretary for Ireland, Meek. Whenever 
 they shelve you among the other unredeemed pledges in that pawn-office, 
 the Board of Trade." Meek affected a laugh, but not over successfully^ 
 while to turn the conversation, he said, ^^ apropos to your friend 
 Cashel, I have not been able to show him any attentions, so occupied 
 have I been with one thing and another. Let us make a dinner for 
 him." 
 
 " No, no, he doesn't care for such things. Come and join his house- 
 warming on the Shannon, and that will be far better." 
 
 " I mean it, but I should like, also, to see him here. He knows the 
 Kilgoffs, doesn't he ?" 
 
 " Slightly ; by the way — what are you going to do with my Lord ? 
 He wants, like Sancho, to be Governor of an Island." 
 
 " What an old bore ? without brains, fortune, or influence." 
 
 ** He has a very pretty wife — Meek. Don't you think the Foreign 
 Office would recognise that claim ?" 
 
 " So they send him out of this, I aim content. But to return to what 
 we were talking about. Shall we say Friday, or will Saturday suit you? 
 and we'll make up a small party." 
 
 " I fear not. I mean to leave town by the end of the week." 
 
 " Not for any time." 
 
 " A few days only, and then I shall be at your orders — meanwhile 
 leave Cashel to himself; he has got some suspicions — Heaven knows, 
 whence or how, that his borough influence makes him a very important 
 card just now ; therefore don't notice him — starve him out, and you'll 
 have him come forth with a white flag one of these days. I know him 
 well, and the chances are, that if he were to attribute any of your 
 
KOLAlsD CASHEL, 159 
 
 civilities to the score of your calculation respecting his political influence, 
 he would at once become your most determined opponent." 
 
 " But his borough — " 
 
 " Let him represent it himself, Meek, and it's the next best thing 
 to disfranchisement." 
 
 " He would not be likely to accept any advice from us ?" asked Meek, 
 half timidly. 
 
 " To a certainty he would not, although proffered in your own most 
 insinuating manner. Come, Meek, no nonsense, you must look out for 
 a seat for your protege, Clare Jones, elsewhere ; though I tell you 
 frankly he is not worth the trouble.'' 
 
 " I declare you are all wrong, Linton — quite wrong, I was thinking 
 whether from motives of delicacy you would not like to press your own 
 claim, which we might, with so much propriety." 
 
 "Thanks," said Linton, while a sly twinkle of his eye showed that 
 he did not care to disguise the spirit of mistrust with which he heard 
 the speech. " Thanks, you are too generous, and I am too modest, so 
 let us not think more of the matter." 
 
 "What is Cashel's real fortune ?" said Meek, not sorry to turn the 
 conversation into a less dangerous channel ; " one hears so many absurd 
 and extravagant reports, it is hard to know what to believe." 
 
 " Kennyfeck calls it fourteen thousand a year above all charges and 
 cost of collection." 
 
 "And your own opinion?" 
 
 Linton shrugged his shoulders carelessly, and said, " There or there- 
 abouts. I fancy that his ready money has been greatly over-rated. But 
 why do you ask ? Your people wouldn't give him a peerage — would 
 they r 
 
 " Not now ; of course," said Meek, hesitating. 
 
 " Nor at any time, I trust," said Linton, authoritatively. The man 
 does not know how to behave as a plain country gentleman ; why in- 
 crease his embarrassments by making him a Lord ? Besides, you should 
 take care in these new creations, who are your peeresses, or one of these 
 days you'll have old Kennyfeck fancying that he is a noble himself." 
 
 " There is no danger to be apprehended in that quarter ?" asked Meek, 
 with some trepidation of manner. 
 
 " Yes, but there is, though, and very considerable, too. He has 
 been living in the house with those girls — clever and shrewd girls, 
 too. He is more at his ease there than elsewhere. They listen 
 patiently to his tiresome Prairie stories, and are indulgent to all his 
 little "escapades," — as a " Eanchero," in a word, he is a hero there, and 
 
160 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 never leaves the threshold without losing some of the charms of the 
 illusion." 
 
 " And you saw all this ?'' 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 « And suffered it ?" 
 
 *' Yes. What would you have me do ? had there been only one girl in 
 the case — I might have married her. But it is only in Botany, or the 
 Bay of that name that the English permit Polygamy." 
 
 " I am very sorry to hear this/' said Meek, gravely. 
 
 " I am very sorry to have it to tell. Meek," said the other. 
 
 "He might marry so well !'* muttered Meek, half in soliloquy. 
 
 " To be sure he might, and in good hands — I mean in those of a 
 man who sees his way in life, — and cut a very fair figure, too. But it 
 won't do to appear in London with a second or third-rate woman, whose 
 only recommendation is the prettiness that has fascinated * Castle Bails' 
 in Dublin." 
 
 "Let us talk over this again, Linton," said MeekJ arranging his 
 papers, and affecting to be busied. 
 
 " With all my heart ; indeed, it was a subject I intended to speak to 
 you about. I have a little theory thereanent myself." 
 
 "Have you, indeed?" said Meek, looking up with animation. 
 
 " Yes, but it needs your counsel — perhaps something more, I should 
 say — but another time— good-bye, good-bye," and without waiting to 
 say or hear more, Linton lounged out of the room, leaving the Secretary, 
 thoughtless and serious, behind him. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 161 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " Nor lives the heart so coH and dark 
 
 But in its depths, some lingering spark 
 
 Of love is cherished there !" 
 
 "The Outlaw." 
 
 When Tom Linton parted with Mr. Meek he repaired to the club in 
 Kildare-street to listen to the gossip on the rumoured dissolution of Par- 
 liament, and pick up what he could of the prevailing tone among the 
 country gentry. 
 
 His appearance was eagerly hailed by many, who regarded him as 
 generally well informed on all the changes and turns of party warfare ; 
 but, as he professed the most complete ignorance of every thing, and 
 seemed to devour with greedy curiosity the most commonplace announce- 
 ments, he was speedily deserted and suffered to pursue his work of 
 inquiry perfectly unmolested. Not that indeed there was much to learn ; 
 the tone of banter and raillery, with which, from want of all real political 
 influence, men in Ireland accustom themselves to discuss grave questions, 
 concealing their real sentiments, or investing them with a ludicrous exag- 
 geration which oftentimes foiled even the shrewd perception of Tom 
 Linton. 
 
 He did, however, learn, so much as showed him that all the ordinary 
 landmarks of party being lost, men were beginning to feel themselves at 
 liberty to adept any leadership which pleased them, without suff*ering the 
 stain of desertion. They thought themselves betrayed by each of the 
 great political chiefs, in turn, and began to fancy that the best course 
 for them in future would be to make specific terms for any support they 
 should accord. Suggestions to this end thrown out in all the bantering 
 gaiety of Irish manner might mean any, or nothing, and so Linton well 
 knew, as he listened to them. 
 
 He had taken his place at a whist table that he might, while seem- 
 ingly pre-occupied, hear what was said around him, and although no 
 error of play, nor a single mistake in the game marked the diflferent 
 direction of his attention, he contrived to learn much of the opinion 
 prevalent in certain circles. 
 
 " That is the luckiest fellow in Europe," said one of his late antago- 
 nists ; "as usual, he rises the only winner." 
 
 " You can scarcely call it luck," said another ; " he is a first-rate 
 player, and always so cool." 
 
 M 
 
162 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Meanwhile, Linton, mounting his horse, rode slowly along the streets 
 till he arrived at Bilton's hotel, where a handsome britschka was stand- 
 ing, whose large up-standing horses and richly mounted harnessing gave 
 token of London rather than of Dublin taste. 
 
 " Is her ladyship going out, Halpin ?" said he to the footman. 
 *' Her ladyship ordered the carriage for four, precisely, sir." 
 Linton mused for a second or two and then asked if Lord Kilgoff 
 were at home, and not waiting for reply, passed on. 
 
 No sooner, however, had he reached the landing-place, and was 
 beyond the observation of the servant, than he halted, and appeared to 
 reflect. At last, as if having made his resolve, he turned to descend the 
 stairs, when the drawing-room door opened and Lord Kilgoff appeared. 
 " The very man I wanted. Linton, come here," cried he, re-entering 
 the room. 
 
 " I was just on my way to you,"my Lord," said Linton, with %ell- 
 affected eagerness. 
 
 "Are they out, Linton, are they *out?"' said he, in breathless im- 
 patience. 
 
 " No, my Lord. I've seen Meek ; they're safe for the present. A 
 coalition has been formed with O'Morgan and his party, which secures 
 a working majority of forty -five or fifty." 
 
 " This is certain, Linton — may I rely upon it ?" 
 '' You may, my Lord, with confidence." 
 
 *' Then I suppose the moment is come when my adhesion would be 
 most well-timed. It's a grave question, Tom,, every thing depends on it. 
 If I join them and they go out — " 
 
 " Why your lordship goes out too, without ever having the satisfaction 
 of being * in.' " 
 
 " Not if they gave me the mission to Florence, Tom. They never 
 remove the smaller legations in any change of parties." 
 
 " But you could not help resigning, my Lord, you should follow your 
 friends," said Linton, with an assumed air of high principle. 
 
 " Not a bit of it ; I'd hold on. I see no reason whatever for such a 
 course. I have made a rough draft of a letter, which Hindley should 
 show to Peel. See here, this is the important passage. I presuppose 
 that I had already given Hindley my resignation to hand in to Aberdeen, 
 but that yielding to his arguments, who refuses to deliver it, I have re- 
 considered the matter. Now, listen : — * You say that my functions are 
 not of a nature to admit any line of partizanship, and that a man of 
 honourable views can serve his country under a Whig or Tory admini- 
 stration, irrespective of his own preference for one or the other. I feel 
 this to be true. I know that, in my own official career, I have always 
 
KOLAXD CASHEL. 163 
 
 forgottea the peculiar politics of my masters ; but another question 
 arises, — how shall I be judged by others ? for while I confess to you 
 that I entertain for Peel's capacity a respect I have never been able to 
 feel for the Whig leaders, yet, family prejudices, connexions, a hundred 
 minor circumstances, some purely accidental, threw me among the ranks 
 of that party, and a sense of consistency kept me where very probably 
 unbiassed judgment had never suffered me to remain.' " 
 
 " Amazingly good ! very well done, indeed !" said Linton, in whose 
 dubious smile younger eyes than Lord Kilgoff's might have read the 
 most insolent expression of contempt ; not, indeed, at the hypocrisy, but 
 at the poor attempt to give it colour. " There could be no thought of 
 removing a man with such sentiments." 
 
 " I think not, Linton. It would be a gross and flagrant case of 
 official tyranny to do so, — a case for inquiry in the House, — a motion to 
 produce the correspondence " 
 
 " Better not, my Lord," said Linton, drily ; " that is an admirable 
 letter addressed to your friend Lord Hindlej- ; but in a blue book it 
 won't read so well. Take my advice, hold on if you can, go if you 
 must, but don't ask questions, at all events." 
 
 " Perhaps you are right, Tom," said Kilgoff, musing. 
 
 " Now for another point, my Lord ; this visit to Mr. Cashel " 
 
 " I've declined it," said Lord Kilgoff, reddening, and with a look of 
 extreme irritation. " The note is there sealed on the table, and shall be 
 sent within an hour." 
 
 " I am not at liberty to ask your reasons, my lord," said Linton, 
 gravely and respectfully ; " but I am certainly free to state my own, 
 why I think you ought most positively to go there." 
 
 *' You may, certainly," said Lord Kilgoff, rising impatiently, and 
 pacing the room ; " I shall not interrupt you, but I shall also pledge 
 myself not to let them influence me in the slightest degree. My mind 
 is made up, sir." 
 
 " Then I shall speak with more freedom," said Linton, boldly ; 
 " because, having no pretension to change your sentiments, I am merely 
 desirous to record my own." 
 
 Lord Kilgoff made no reply, but continued his walk, while Linton 
 resumed : — 
 
 " Now, I see your impatience, my Lord, and will not trespass on it. 
 Here, in three words, is my case. The Borough of Dinimkeeran re- 
 turns a member to Parliament ; Hebden, who represents it, is about 
 to accept the Hundreds ; Cashel owns the town." 
 
 " And if he does, sir, what signifies it to me ?" broke in Lord Kilgoff ; 
 " I have not the slightest influence over that gentleman's opinions. He 
 
 m2 
 
164 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 was rude enough to give me a very flat contradiction in the only discus- 
 sion we ever held together. I venture to assert, from what I have seen 
 of him, that any direction of his course in Parliament would be totally 
 impossible. He is self-willed, obstinate, and opinionated." 
 
 " Granted, my lord ; he is the very calibre to run through his own, 
 and ruin any other man's fortune." 
 
 " Well, sir, and this is the person whose services you think it worth 
 my while obtaining ?" 
 
 " I never said so, my Lord." 
 
 " What, didn't I hear you this moment " 
 
 " No, you heard me say that the borough is his, but you never heard 
 me say that he ought to be its member. For that honour I had another 
 in my eye; one, over whom your lordship's influence has never yet been 
 doubted." * 
 
 " Whom do you mean ?" 
 
 "Tom Linton, my Lord ; a very unworthy, but a most devoted, 
 partisan of your Lordship's." 
 
 " What ! Tom, — i/ou in Parliament ?" 
 
 " Even 'so, my Lord," said Linton, for once in his life — perhaps, 
 the only time — that a flash of angry meaning coloured his calm fea- 
 tures. " I am sorry that the notion should so palpably wake your lord- 
 ship's amazement." 
 
 *' No, — no, — no ! I didn't mean that. I was only surprised. In 
 fact, you took me unawares, — we were talking of Cashel." 
 
 " Precisely, my lord ; we were discussing the probable career of a 
 person so eminently gifted with statesmanlike qualities ; then, how could 
 I possibly hope for patience when introducing to your notice abilities so 
 humble as my own !" 
 
 " But is it possible, ig this practicable, Linton ?" 
 
 " With your assistance it is certain. The influence of your Lord- 
 ship's rank would give such weight to your opinions, that if you were 
 only to say to him * Send Linton into Parliament as your member,' the 
 thing is done." 
 
 "I have my doubts." 
 
 " I have none whatever, I know the man well. He is dying to con- 
 form to any thing that he supposes to be the discipline of his class, tell 
 him he ought, and he never resists." 
 
 " I had resolved on not paying this visit," said Kilgoflj after a brief 
 pause, ^' reasons of sufficient weight determined me." 
 
 " Oh, my Lord, pardon the freedom, but I must say that they had 
 need be strong reasons to weigh against all the advantages I can show 
 from the opposite course." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 165 
 
 " They are, Sir, very strong- reasons, nor do I deem It necessary to 
 advert to them again, enough that I esteem them sufficient." 
 
 *• Of course, my Lord, I never dreamed of calling them in question ; 
 they must needs be cogent arguments which counterpoise the opposite 
 scale — a high diplomatic career — a representative Peerage — this there 
 could be no doubt of." 
 
 " How do you mean ?" broke in Kilgoff, abruptly. 
 
 " Simply that this young man becomes your trump card, if you only 
 please to take him up. As yet he has resisted the advances made by 
 Downie Meek and his set, because of my watchfulness, but sooner or later 
 some party will catch him, and when one thinks how few men with a large 
 unencumbered fortune we possess here, with a great county interest, 
 two boroughs, for he owns Knockgarvan as well, the prize is really 
 worth having, particularly as it only needs the stretching out the 
 hand to take." 
 
 Lord Kilgoff mused and seemed to ponder over the words. He 
 entertained small doubts of his " friend" Linton's capacity ; but he had 
 very considerable suspicions of his principles, and it is a strange fact 
 that people willing to commit very gross breaches of fair dealing them- 
 selves are exceedingly scrupulous respecting the fair fame of their 
 associates in iniquity, so admirably accommodating is a worldly con- 
 science ! 
 
 " Well, Sir," said he, at length, " the price — name the price. What 
 are we to pay for the article, that is the question?" 
 
 " I have said, my Lord, it is to be had for asking. Your Lordship 
 has only to take the territory, as our naval men do the chance islands 
 they meet with in the Southern Pacific. Land and plant your flag — 
 voila tout .'" 
 
 "But you have heard me observe already," said he, in a querulous 
 tone, " that I dishke the prospect of this visit, that in fact it would be 
 exceedingly disagreeable to me." 
 
 " Then I have nothing more to say, my Lord," said Linton, coolly, 
 while he took up his hat and gloves. " I can only congratulate you on 
 the excellence of your political prospects, which can dispense with a 
 strong alliance to be had so easily." 
 
 *' Our measures of value are very different, Mr. Linton," said Lord 
 Kilgoff, proudly. " Still to prove that this is no caprice on my part," — 
 here he stopped abruptly, while his heightened colour showed the degree 
 of embarrassment he laboured under. — " To show you that I have — in 
 order to explain my motives — " here he took a cautious glance around 
 the room, walked to the door, opened and shut it again, and then dra\Ying 
 
166 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 his arm within Linton's, led him towards a window. For a second or 
 two he seemed undecided, and at last, by a great effort, he whispered a few 
 words in Linton's ear. 
 
 Had any third party been there to watch the effect of the whispered 
 confidence, he might easily have read in the speaking brilliancy of 
 Linton's eyes and in his assured look, that it was of a nature to give him 
 the greatest pleasure. But scarce had his Lordship done speaking, 
 when these signs of pleasure gave way to a cold, almost stern air of 
 morality, and he said, " But surely, my Lord, it were far better to leave 
 her Ladyship to deal with such insolent pretension — ^" 
 
 " Hush, not so loud, speak lower ; so I should, Linton, but women 
 never will see any thing in these airs of puppyism. They persist in think- 
 ing or saying, at least, that they are mere modern fashionable manners, 
 and this endurance on their part gives encouragement. And then, when 
 there happens to be some disparity of years — Lady Kilgoff is my 
 junior — the censorious world seizes on the shadow of a scandal; in 
 fact, Sir, 1 will not consent to afford matter for newspaper asterisks or 
 figurative description." 
 
 " Your Lordship never had a better opportunity of giving open de- 
 fiance to both. These airs of Cashel are, as you remark, mere puppy- 
 isms, assumed to get credit for a certain fashionable character for levity. 
 To avoid him would be to acknowledge that there was danger in his 
 society. I don't go so far as to say that he would assert as much, but 
 most assuredly the world would for him. I think I hear the ready 
 comments on your absence. " Were not the Kilgoffs expected here ? 
 Oh, they were invited, but Lord Kilgoff was afraid to venture. Cashel 
 had been paying attentions." In a word, every species of impertinence 
 that malevolence and envy can fancy would be fabricated. Your Lordship 
 knows the world far better than I do ; and knows besides the heavy price 
 a man pays for being the possessor of a high capacity and a handsome 
 wife; these are two insults that the less fortunate in life never do, or 
 never can forgive." 
 
 " Well, what is it you counsel ?" 
 
 " To meet these calumnies in the face; small slanders, like weak fires, 
 are to be trampelled out, to tamper with such, is to fan the flame, which 
 at last, will scorch you. Besides, to take another view of the matter, 
 her Ladyship is young, and has been much admired ; how will she 
 accept this seclusion? 1 don't speak of the present case, besides, I sup- 
 pose that this country visit would bore her beyond measure. But how 
 will she regard it in other instances ? Is it not an implied fear on 
 your Lordship's part, you, who really have nothing to dread in com- 
 petition with any man. I only know, if I were in your place, how I 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 167 
 
 should actually seize the very opportunity of openly flouting such calum- 
 nious rumour ; never was there an occasion to do so on cheaper terms. 
 This Roland Cashel is an underbred boy." 
 
 *' There is a great deal in what you say, Linton. But as jealousy is a 
 feeling of which I have never had any experience, I was only anxious on 
 Lady Kilgoff 's account, that the thoughtless gaiety of a very young and 
 handsome woman should not expose her to the sarcastic insinuations of 
 an impertinent world. She is gay in manner — there is an air of lively 
 animation — " 
 
 " No more than what the French call ' amabilit6' my Lord, which, 
 like the famed armour of Milan, is not the less defensive that it is so 
 beautiful in all its details." 
 
 " Well, then, I'll not send the note," said Lord KilgofF, as he took up 
 the letter and tearing it, threw the fragments into the fire ; " of course, 
 Linton, this conversation is strictly confidential ?" 
 
 " Your Lordship has never found me unworthy of such a trust." 
 
 " Never ; nor I must say, would it be for your advantage to become 
 so." 
 
 Linton bit his lip, and for a second or two seemed burning to make a 
 rejoinder, but overcoming the temptation, assumed his careless smile and 
 said, — 
 
 " I leave you, my Lord, greatly gratified that chance led me to pay 
 this visit. I sincerely believe, that in the counsels I have offered, I have 
 at least, been able to be of service to you." 
 
 Lord Kilgoff presented his hand in acknowledgment of the speech, but 
 it was accorded with an air which seemed to say, " Well, here is a receipt 
 in full for your devotedness." 
 
 Linton took it in the same spirit, and left the room, as though deeply 
 impressed with all the honour he enjoyed in such a noble friendship. 
 
 Hastening down the stairs, he sprung into the saddle of his horse, and 
 cantering up the street, turned towards the road which leads to the Phoenix 
 Park. It was about the hour when the equipages were wont to throng 
 that promenade, but Linton did not seem desirous of joining that gay 
 crowd, for he took a cross path through the fields, and after a sharp ride 
 of half an hour, reached a low paling which skirted the park on the 
 eastward ; here, at a small cottage kept by one of the rangers, a little 
 door led in, passing through which he found himself in one of the long 
 green alleys of that beautiful tract. A boy, who seemed to be ready 
 waiting, now took his horse, and Linton entered the wood and disap- 
 peared. He did not proceed far, however, within the shady copse, for 
 after going a short distance he perceived a carriage standing in the lane, 
 by the door of which a footman waited, with a shawl upon his arm. The 
 
168 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 coachman with his whip poled sat talking with his fellow-servant, so that 
 Linton saw that the carriage had no occupant. 
 
 He now hastened along, and speedily emerging at a little grassy- 
 opening of the wood, came in sight of a lady walking at some distance 
 in front. The fashionable air and splendid dress, which might have 
 suited the most brilliant promenade of a great city, seemed strange in 
 such a lone, unvisited spot. Linton lost no time in overtaking her, only 
 diminishing his speed as he came closer, when with his hat removed, and 
 in an attitude of the most humble deference he said, — 
 
 *' Pray let me stand excused if I am somewhat behind my time, the 
 fault was not my own." 
 
 " Oh, say nothing about it," said a soft musical voice, and Lady 
 Kilgoff turned an easy smile towards him. " ' Qui s'excuse, s'accuse,' 
 says the French proverb, and / never dreamt of the accusation. Is 
 it not a lovely day here ?" 
 
 Linton was too much piqued to answer at once, but recovering, he 
 said. " Without seeking to apologise for an absence that was not felt, 
 let me return to the subject. I assure your ladyship that I had been 
 detained by Lord Kilgoff, who was pleased to bestow a more than 
 ordinary share of his confidence upon me, and even condescended to ask 
 my counsel." 
 
 " How flattering ! which you gave, I hope, with all the sincerity for 
 which you are famous." 
 
 Linton tried to smile, but not very successfully. 
 
 "What then was this wonderful mystery? Not the representative 
 Peerage, I trust ; I'm sure 1 hope that question is at rest for ever." 
 
 *' You are quite safe there — he never mentioned it." 
 
 " Oh, then it was his Diplomatic ambition — ain't I right ? Ah, I 
 knew it. How very silly, or how very wicked you must be, Mr. Linton, 
 to encourage these day dreams. You who have not the excuse of hallu- 
 cinations, who read the book of life, as it is written, without fanciful 
 interpretations." 
 
 " I certainly must disclaim your panegyric. I had one hallucination, 
 if so you term it; it was that you wished, ardently wished, for the posi- 
 tion which a foreign * mission' bestows. A very natural wish, I freely 
 own, in one so worthy in every way to grace and adorn it." 
 
 " Well, so I did some time back, but I've changed my mind. I don't 
 think I should like it — I have been reconsidering the subject." 
 
 " And your ladyship inclines now rather to seclusion and rural plea- 
 sures — how fortunate that I should liave been able to serve your interests 
 there, also." 
 
 *' What do you mean ?" said she, with a stare, while a deep scarlet 
 suffused her cheek. 
 
EOLAJND CASHEL. 169 
 
 *' I alluded to a country visit which you fancied might be made so 
 agreeable, but what his Lordship had the bad taste to regard less 
 favourably." 
 
 " Well, Sir, you did not presume to give any opinion ?" 
 
 " I really did. I had all the hardihood to brave Lord Kilgoff's most 
 fixed resolves. You were aware that he declined Mr. Cashel's invi- 
 tation ?" 
 
 She nodded, and he went on. 
 
 *' Probably, too, knowing the reasons for that refusal ?" 
 
 *^ No, Sir ; the matter was indifferent to me, so I never troubled my 
 head about it. My Lord said we shouldn't go, and I said 'very well,* 
 and there it ended." 
 
 Now, although this was spoken with a most admirably feigned indif- 
 ference, Linton was too shrewd an observer not to penetrate the decep- 
 tion. 
 
 " I am doubly unlucky this day," said he, at last, " first to employ all 
 my artifices to plan a ministerial success to which you are actually 
 averse, and secondly, to carry a point to which you are indifferent. " 
 
 " Dare I ask, if the question be not an indiscreet one, what peculiar 
 interest Mr. Linton can have, either in our acceptance or refusal of this 
 invitation ?" 
 
 " Have I not said that I believed you desired it," replied he, with a 
 most meaning look. 
 
 *•' Indeed! you read inclinations most skilfully, only that you inter- 
 pret them by anticipation.*' 
 
 " This is too much," said Linton, in a voice whose passionate earnest- 
 ness showed that all dissimulation was at an end, " far too much I The 
 genteel comedy that we play before the world, madam, might be laid 
 aside for a few moments here. When I asked for this interview, and 
 you consented to give it — " 
 
 " It was on the express stipulation that you should treat me as you do 
 in society, Sir," broke she in, " that there should be no attempt to fall 
 back upon an intimacy which can never be resumed." 
 
 " When I promised, I intended to have kept my word, Laura," said 
 he, in deep dejection, " I believed I could have stifled the passion that 
 consumes me, and talked to you in the words of sincere devoted friend- 
 ship, but, I cannot. Old memories of once happiness, brought up too 
 vividly, by seeing you, as I used to see you, — when in many a country 
 walk we sauntered on, dreaming of the time when, mine, by every tie 
 of right, as by affection — " 
 
 " How you requited that affection, Linton!" saidshe, in a tone whose 
 deep reproach seemed actually to stun him. Then suddenly changing to 
 
I, 
 
 XTO ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 an air of disdainful anger, she continued, " you are a bold man, Linton, 
 I thought it would be too much for even your hardihood to recur to 
 a theme so fuU of humiliation for yourself ; but I know your theory, 
 Sir, you think there is a kind of heroism, in exaggerated baseness, and 
 that it is no less great to transcend men in crime than in virtue — you 
 dare to speak of an affection that you betrayed and bartered for 
 money ?" 
 
 " I made you a Peeress, Madam. When you were Laura Gardiner 
 you couldn't have spoken to me as now you speak." 
 
 " If I consented to the vile contract, it was that, when I discovered 
 your baseness, any refuge was preferable to being the wife of one like 
 you !" 
 
 ** A most complimentary assurance^ not only to myself, but his Lord- 
 ship," said Linton, with an insolent smile. 
 
 " Now, hear me," said she, not noticing the taunt, but speaking with 
 a voice of deep collected earnestness. '^ It is in vain to build upon time 
 or perseverance, the allies you trust so deeply, to renew the ties broken 
 for ever. If I had no other higher and more sustaining motive, my 
 knowledge of you would be enough to rescue me from this danger. I 
 know you well, Linton. You have often told me what an enemy you 
 could be. This, at least, I believe of all that you have ever sworn ! I 
 have a full faith, too, in your ingenuity and skill : and yet I would 
 rather brave both — aye, both hate and craft — than trust to what you call 
 your honour." 
 
 " You do indeed know me well, Laura," said he, in a voice broken 
 and faltering, "or you never had dared to speak such words to me. There 
 is not one breathing could have uttered them and not pay the penalty, 
 save yourself. I feel in my inmost heart how deeply I have wronged 
 you, but is not my whole life an atonement for the wrong ? Am I not 
 heartbroken and wretched, without a hope or a future. What greater 
 punishment did any one ever incur than to live in the daily sight and 
 contemplation of a bliss, that his own folly or madness have for ever 
 denied him ; and yet, to that same suffering do I cling, as the last tie 
 that binds me to existence. To see you in the world, to watch you, to 
 mark the effect your grace and beauty are making on all around you— 
 . how every fascination calls up its tribute of admiration — how with each 
 day some new excellence developes itself, till you seem inexhaustible in 
 all the traits of graceful womanhood ! This has been the cherished hap- 
 piness of my life ! It was to this end I laboured to induce the accept- 
 ance of that invitation that once more, beneath the same roof, I should 
 see you for days long. Your own heart must confess how I have never, 
 before the world, forgotten the distance that separates us. There is 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. I7l 
 
 then no fear that I should resign every joy that yet remains to me for 
 any momentary indulgence of speaking to you as my heart feels. No, 
 no, Laura, you have nothing to dread either from my hate or my 
 love." 
 
 " To what end, then, was it that you asked me to meet you here 
 to-day ?" said she, in a voice in which a touch of compassionate sorrow 
 was blended. 
 
 " Simply to entreat, that if I should succeed in persuading his Lord- 
 ship to accept this visit, that you would throw no obstacle in the way 
 upon your side." 
 
 " And if I consent, shall I have no cause to rue my compliance ?" 
 
 " So far as depends on me, none, on my honour !" 
 
 It had been better for Linton's cause that he had omitted the last 
 words, at least, as Laura turned away her head, a curl of insolent mean- 
 ing was on her lip, but she did not speak, and they now walked along, 
 side by side, in silence. 
 
 " You will go then ?" said he, at last, in a low whisper. 
 
 '' Yes," said she, faintly. 
 
 Linton stole a glance at her unperceived, and suddenly the sparkle of 
 his eyes and the elation of his whole expression, showed the transport 
 of pleasure he experienced. 
 
 " 2^ow for one word of caution," said Linton, as drawing closer to 
 her side he assumed the tone of sincere friendship. " Lord Kilgoff has 
 just revealed to me, in deep confidence, that he has been much offended 
 by certain attentions shown to you by this Mr. Cashel, and which were 
 of so marked a nature that he was almost determined never to admit 
 his intimacy in future. Had his Lordship known you as well as I do, 
 he might have spared himself this anxiety. I believe such savage ex- 
 cellence as his has few attractions for you, nor, save the admiration that 
 all must yield you, has the youth taste or feeling to appreciate your 
 excellence. However, * my Lord' is jealous ; let it be your care, by 
 knowledge of the fact, not to incur any thing to sustain the suspicion." 
 
 " How very absurd all this is. Do you know that Mr. Cashel did not 
 condescend to pay me the poor compliment of a special invitation to his 
 house, but asked my Lord to come, and hoped I would accompany him ; 
 just as people invite their humbler acquaintances, hoping that only half 
 the request may be accorded." 
 
 " He is underbred even to barbarism," said Linton. 
 
 "He seems a most good-natured creature, and full of generosity." 
 
 " Over wealth has sometimes that air. When the glass is brimful, 
 none but the steadiest hand can carry, without spilling, the wine." 
 
 " He does not appear even to make the effort. They tell me he has 
 
172 BOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 squandered some thousands already, making presents to every one who 
 will accept them." 
 
 " He gave me this cane," said Linton, superciliously, exhibiting a 
 little riding-cane, which he had taken himself out of Cashel's hand, and 
 was of no value whatever. 
 
 " Not any great evidence of exaggerated generosity," said he, ex- 
 hibiting it. " As to his house, however, I trust its honours may be well 
 done ; he has given me carte blanche^ and I must only try and not 
 disgrace my prerogative." 
 
 " How very late it is, nearly seven," said Lady Kilgoff, looking at 
 her watch. 
 
 • *' Shall I see your Ladyship to your carriage ?" said Linton. 
 
 " I think not," said she, blushing slightly ; " as I left it unaccom- 
 panied, so I shall return to it — good-bye." 
 
 She held out her hand as she spoke, but slightly averted her head, so 
 that Linton could not mark the expression of her features. As it was, 
 he pressed the gloved fingers to his lips, but, when doing so, contrived 
 to unclasp her bracelet, a singularly rich one, and a present from Lord 
 Kilgoff on the day of her marriage. This he let fall noiselessly on the 
 grass, and murmured in a low, sad voice, " Good-bye." 
 
 Lady Kilgoff, hastily wrapping her shawl about her, left the spot. 
 Linton watched her till he had seen her seated in the carriage, and con- 
 tinued to gaze after it, as it drove rapidly away, and, so intently occupied 
 by his thoughts, that he did not notice the approach of a horseman, who 
 came up at a walking pace behind him. 
 
 *' Eh, Tom !" cried out Lord Charles Frobisher, " this is flying at 
 high game !" 
 
 "You are mistaken, Charley," said he, in some confusion. ^-This 
 
 * meeting under the greenwood-tree' was nothing less than a love 
 affair." 
 
 " Oh, hang your morality, Mr. Joseph ; it's rather good fun to see 
 the ' insolent beauty' of the season capitulating." 
 
 "Wrong again," said Linton, affecting a laugh,. " Everton is in a 
 scrape, and his wife wants me to get him out of the way—" 
 
 "Nonsense, man, I saw the carriage ; there is no need of mystifying 
 here. Besides, it's no affair of mine — I'm sure I wish it were ! But, 
 come, what are the odds on Hitchley's colt, are seven to two taken ?" 
 
 "Don't bet," said Linton, knowingly ; " there is something ' wrong' 
 in that stable, and I hav'n't found out the secret." 
 
 " What a deep fellow you are, Tom." 
 
 " Nothing of the kind, Charley. If I were, you'd never have disco- 
 vered it. Your only deep fellow is he that the world deems shallow. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 173 
 
 Your light-hearted, rattling knave, whose imputed thoughtlessness covers 
 every breach of faith, and makes his veriest schemes seem purely acci- 
 dent. But, once get the repute of being a clever or a smart fellow, and 
 success is tenfold more difficult! The world, then, only plays with you 
 as one does with a sharper, betting small stakes, and keeping a steady 
 eye on the cards ! Your own sleepy eye, Charley ; your languid careless 
 look, are a better provision than most men give their younger children." 
 
 Lord Charles lifted his long eyelashes lazily, and, for a second, some- 
 thing like a sparkle lit up his cold dark eye, but it was gone in a 
 moment, and his habitually lethargic expression once more returned; 
 " You heard that we were nearly ' out,' I suppose," said he, after a 
 pause. 
 
 " Yes. This is the second time that I bought Downie Meek's car- 
 riage-horses on the rumour of a change of administration." 
 
 " And sold them back again at double the price, when he found that 
 the ministry were safe !" 
 
 " To be sure ; wasn't it a ' good hedge' for him to be Secretary for 
 Ireland at the cost of a hundred or so ?" 
 
 " You'll get the name of spreading the false intelligence, Tom, if 
 you always profit so much by it." 
 
 " With all my heart. I wish sincerely some good-natured fellow 
 would lay to my charge a little roguery that I had no share in. I 
 have experienced all manner and shades of sensations, but injured inno- 
 cence, that, would really be new to me." 
 
 " Well," sighed Lord Charles, with a yawn ; " I suppose we have 
 only a short time before us here. The end of the session will scarcely 
 see us in office." 
 
 " About thajb : by keeping all hands at the pumps we may float the 
 ship into harbour, but no more." 
 
 " And what's to become of us?" said the Aid-de-Camp, with a deep 
 depression in his accent. 
 
 " The usual lot of a crew paid ofiP," cried Linton, laughing; " look 
 out for a new craft in commission, and go to sea again. As for you, 
 Charley, you can either marry something in the printed calico line with 
 a hundred and fifty thousand, or, if you prefer it, exchange into a light 
 cavalry corps at Suntanterabund." 
 
 " And you ?" said Lord Charles, with something almost of sternness. 
 
 " Me ! Oh, as for me, I have many alternatives. I can remain a Whig, 
 and demand office from the Tories — a claim Peel has never resisted. I 
 can turn Repealer, and be pensioned by something in the Colonies. I 
 can be a waiter on Providence, and live on all parties by turns. In fact, 
 Charley, there never was a better age for your * adventurer' than this 
 
174 ROLAJS'D CASHEL. 
 
 year of our Lord 18 — . All the geography of party has been erased, 
 and it is open to every man to lay down new territorial limits." 
 
 " But for any case of the kind you should have a seat in Parha- 
 ment." 
 
 " So I mean it, my boy ; I intend to represent — I'm sure I forget the 
 name of my constituency — in the next assemblage of the collective 
 wisdom." 
 
 " How do you manage the qualification ?" said the Aide-de-Camp, 
 slily. 
 
 " The man who gives the borough, must take care of that ; it's no 
 affair of mine," said Linton, carelessly. " I only supply the politics." 
 
 " And what are they to be ?" 
 
 " Cela depend. You might as well ask me what dress I'll wear in 
 the changeable climate of an Irish July." 
 
 " Then you'll take no pledges ?" 
 
 " To be sure I will ', every one asked of me. I only stipulate to 
 accompany each with a crotchet of my own ; so that, like the gentle- 
 man who emptied his snuff-box over the peas, 1*11 leave the dish un- 
 eatable by any but myself." 
 
 " Well, good-bye, Tom," said Lord Charles, laughing. *' If you only 
 be as loyal in love as you promise to be in politics, our fair friend is 
 scarcely fortunate." And so saying, he cantered slowly away. 
 
 "Poor fellow," said Linton, contemptuously; "your little bit of 
 principle haunts you like a superstition ;" and with this reflection he 
 stepped out briskly to where the boy was standing with his horse. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Linton, darlin', only sixpence! and I here this two hours?" 
 said the ragged urchin, with a cunning leer, half roguery, half shame. 
 
 " And where could you have earned sixpence, you scoundrel, in that 
 time," cried Linton, affecting anger. 
 
 " Faix, I'd have earned half-a-crown, if I'd got up on the beast and 
 rode down to Biltons," said the fellow, grinning. 
 
 " You'd have had your skull cracked with this cane, the next time I met 
 you, for your pains," said the other, really enraged, while he chucked a 
 shilling at him. 
 
 " Success to your honour, — all's right," said the boy. And touching 
 his cap, he scampered off into the wood and disappeared. 
 
 " You shall have a sea voyage, my friend," said Linton, looking after 
 him, " a young gentleman with such powers of observation would have a 
 fine opening in our Colonies." And away he rode towards town, his brain 
 resolving many a complex scheme and lucky stratagem, but still with 
 ready smile acknowledging each salutation of his friends, and conveying 
 the impression of being one whose easy nature was unruffled by a care. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 175 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " Of ' sweet fifteen' no mortal ere afraid is, 
 Your real 'man-traps' are old maiden ladies." 
 
 " The Legacy." 
 
 It was late of that same afternoon ere Gashel awoke. Mr. Phillis had 
 twice adventured into the room on tip toe, and as stealthily retired, and 
 was now, for the third time, about to retreat, when Roland called him 
 back. 
 
 '•' Beg pardon, sir, but Mrs. Kennyfeck's footman has been here twice 
 for the answer to this note." 
 
 " Let me see it," said Cashel, taking a highly perfumed epistle, whose 
 tinted paper, seal, and superscription were all in the perfection of episto- 
 lary coquetry. 
 
 ** Dear Mr. Cashel, — Mamma desires me to convey her reproaches for 
 your shocking forgetfulness of yesterday, when, after promising to dine 
 here, you never appeared. She will, however, not only forgive the past, 
 but be grateful for the present if you will come to us to-day at seven. 
 
 " Believe me, very truly yours, 
 
 " Olivia I^nntfeck." 
 
 Simple and common-place as the words were, Cashel read them over 
 more than once. 
 
 I know not if any of my male readers can corroborate me, but I have 
 always thought there is some mysterious attraction in even the most 
 every day epistle of a young and pretty woman. The commonest social 
 forms assume a different meaning, and we read the four letters which 
 spell " dear" in any acceptation very remote from what they inspire 
 when written by one's law agent; and then, the concluding "yours truly," 
 or " faithfully yours," or better again, " ever yours," what suggestive 
 little words they are ! how insinuating in their portraiture of a tie, which 
 possibly might, but does not, actually bind the parties. 
 
 If my readers concur not in these sympathies, I have great satisfaction 
 in saying that Roland Cashel did. He not only sat gazing at the few 
 lines, but he looked so long at them as to half believe that the first word 
 was a superlative ! then, suddenly rousing himself, he asked the hour. 
 It was already past six. He had only time, then, for a verbal, " with 
 pleasure," and to dress for dinner. 
 
 It seemed like a reproach on his late mode of living, the pile of 
 
176 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 unopened letters, which In imposing mass Mr. Phillis had arrayed on his 
 master's dressing-table. They contained specimens of every thing epis- 
 tolary, which falls to the lot of those favoured children of fortune who, 
 having " much to give," are great favourites with the world. There were 
 dear little pressing invitations signed by the lady of the house, and in- 
 dited in all the caligraphy of the governess. There were begging letters 
 from clergymen with large families, men who gave so " many hostages 
 to fortune," that they actually ruined themselves in their own " recogni- 
 zances." Flatteries, which, if not written on tinted paper, might have 
 made it blush to bear them, mixed up with tradesmen's assurances of 
 fidelity and punctuality, and bashful apologies for the indelicacy of any 
 allusion to money. 
 
 Oh It is a very sweet world this of ours, and amiable withal ! save 
 that the angelic smile it bestows on one part of the creation has a sorry 
 counterpart in the sardonic grin with which it regards the other. Our 
 friend Cashel was In the former category, and he tossed over the letters 
 carelessly, rarely breaking a seal, and, even then, satisfied with a mere 
 glance at the contents, or the name of the writer, when he suddenly- 
 caught sight of a large square-shaped epistle, marked " sea letter." It 
 was in a hand he well knew, that of his old comrade Enrlquez, and 
 burning with anxiety to hear of him, he threw himself into a chair, and 
 broke the seal. 
 
 llie very first words which met his eyes shocked him. 
 
 " St. Kitt's, Jamaica. 
 
 *' Aye, Roland, even so. St. Kitt's, Jamaica ! heavily Ironed in a cell 
 at the top of a strong tower over the sea, with an armed sentry at my 
 door, I write this ! a prisoner fettered and chained, I, that could not 
 brook the very orders of discipline ! Well, well, It is only cowardice to 
 repine. Truth is, Amigo, I've had no luck since you left us. It was 
 doubtless yours that sustained me so long, and when you withdrew from 
 the firm, I became bankrupt, and yet, this Is pretty much what we used 
 once. In merry mood, to predict for each other, * the loop and the leap.' 
 
 " How shall I tell you so briefly as neither to weary you to read, nor 
 myself to write It — my last sad misfortune. I say the last, because the 
 bad luck took a run against me. First, I lost every thing I possessed at 
 play — the very pistols you sent me, I staked and lost. Worse still, Ro- 
 land — and 'faith I don't think I could make the confession, If a few 
 hours, or a few days more, were not to hide my shame in a felon's 
 grave — I played the jewels you sent here for Marltaiia. She refused 
 them with words of bitterness and anger. Partly from the irritated 
 feeling of the moment — partly from the curse of a gambler's spirit — the 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. l77 
 
 hope to weary out the malice of Fortune, I threw them on the Monte 
 table. Of course I lost. It was soon after this Barcelonetta was laid in 
 ruin by a shock of earthquake ; the greatest ever experienced here. The 
 " Quadro" is a mere mass of chaotic rubbish. The " Puerta Mayor,'* 
 with all its statues, is engulphed, and an arm of the sea now washes 
 up and over the beautiful gardens where the Governor gave his fete. 
 The Villa, too, rent from roof to basement, is a ruin ; vast yawning 
 gulphs intersect the parterres everywhere ; the fountains are dried up ; 
 the trees blasted by lightning ; and a red-brown surface of ashes strewn 
 over the beauteous turf, where we used to stroll by moonlight. The old 
 tree that sheltered our Monte table stands uninjured, as if in mockery 
 over our disasters ! Maritana's hammock was slung beneath the 
 branches, and there she lay, careless of — nay — I could almost, if the 
 words did not seem too strange for truth — actually pleased by the 
 dreadful event. I went to take leave of her ; it was the last night we 
 were to spend on shore. I little knew it was to be the last time we 
 should ever meet. Pedro passed the night among the ruins of the Villa, 
 endeavouring to recover papers and valuables, amid tliat disastrous mass. 
 Geizheiraer was always with him, and as Noronja and the rest soon fell 
 off to sleep, wearied by a day of great fatigue, I sat alone beside her 
 hammock till day was breaking. Oh, would that night could have 
 lasted for years, so sweetly tranquil were the star-lit hours, so calm and 
 yet so full of hopeful promise. What brilliant pictures of ambition did 
 she, that young untaught girl ! present to my eyes. How teach me to 
 long for a cause whose rewards were higher, and greater, and nobler 
 than the prizes of this wayward life. I would have spoken of my affec- 
 tion, my deep-felt long-cherished love — but, with a half-scornful laugh, 
 she stopped me, saying, *Is this leafy shade so like a fair lady's boudoir 
 that you can persuade yourself to trifle thus, or is your own position so 
 dazzling that you deem the offer to share it, a flattery ?' 
 
 " I'm afraid, Sir," said Mr. Phillis, here obtruding his head into the 
 room, " that you'll be very late. It is already more than half-past seven 
 o'clock." 
 
 "So it is," exclaimed Cashel, starting up, while he muttered some- 
 thing not exceedingly complimentary to his host's engagement. *'Is 
 the carriage ready ?" and without staying to hear the reply, hurried 
 down stairs, the open letter still in his hand. 
 
 Scarcely seated in the carriage, Cashel resumed the reading of the 
 letter. Eager to trace the circumstances which led to his friend's cap- 
 tivity, he hastily ran his eyes over the lines till he came to the following; — 
 " There could be no doubt of it ! The Esmeralda, our noble frigate, 
 was not in the service of the Republic ! but by some infamous treaty be- 
 
 N 
 
178 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 tween Pedro and Narochez, the minister, was permitted to carry the flag 
 of Columbia. We were slavers, buccaneers, pirates — not sailors of a 
 state. When, therefore, the British war-brig Scorpion sent a gun 
 across our bows, with an order to lie to, and we replied by showing our 
 main-deck ports open, and our long eighteens all ready — the challenge 
 could not be mistaken. We were near enough to hear the cheering, and 
 it seemed too, they heard ours ; we wanted but you, Roland, among us 
 to have made our excitement madness !" 
 
 The carriage drew up at Kennyfeck's door as Cashel had read 
 thus far, and in a state of mind bordering on fever, he entered the 
 hall and passed up the stairs. The clock struck eight as he presented 
 himself in the drawing-room, where the family were assembled, the 
 number increased by two strangers, who were introduced to Roland as 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck's sister, Miss O'Hara, an elderly maiden lady, with a 
 light brown wig; and a rawboned, much-freckled young man, Peter 
 O'Gorman, her nephew. 
 
 Nothing could be more cordial than the reception of the Kennyfecks ; 
 they affected not to think it was so late, vowed that the clock was too 
 fast, were certain that Mr. Cashel's watch was right ; in fact, his pre- 
 sence was a receipt in full for all the anxieties of delay, and so they made 
 him feel it. 
 
 There was a little quizzing of Roland, as they seated themselves at 
 table, over his forgetfulness of the day before, but so good humouredly 
 as not to occasion, even to himself, the slightest embarrassment. 
 
 " A breakfast at the barrack !" repeated Miss Kennyfeck after him. 
 " What a formidable affair, if it always last twenty -four hours." 
 
 " What do you mean? How do you know that?" asked Roland, 
 half in shame, half in surprise, at this knowledge of his movements. 
 
 " Not to speak of the brilliant conversation, heightened by all the 
 excitement of wit, champagne, and hazard — dreadful competitors with 
 such tiresome society as ours," said Olivia. 
 
 " Never mind them, Mr. Cashel," broke in Miss O'Hara, in a melli- 
 fluous doric ; " 'tis jealous they are, because you liked the officers better 
 than themselves." 
 
 A most energetic dissent was entered by Cashel to this supposition, 
 who nevertheless felt grateful for the advocacy of the old lady. 
 
 " When I was in the Cape Coast Fencibles," broke in Peter, with an 
 accent that would have induced one to believe Africa was on the Shannon, 
 " we used to sit up all night, — it was so hot in the day ; but we always 
 called it breakfast, for you see — " 
 
 "And when are we to visit your pictures, Mr. Cashel?" said Mrs. 
 
I 
 
 KOLAND CASHEL. l79 
 
 Kennyfeck, whose efforts to suppress Peter were not merely vocal, as 
 that injured individual's shins might attest. 
 
 " That depends entirely on you, Madam," said Roland, bowing. " I 
 have only to say, the earlier the more agreeable to me." 
 
 " He has such a beautiful collection," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, turning 
 to her sister. 
 
 " Indeed, then, 1 delight in pictures," said " Aunt Fanny," as her nieces 
 called her. " I went the other day to Mount Bennett, to see a portrait 
 painted by Rousseau." 
 
 " By Rubens, I suppose you mean, aunt," interposed Miss Kennyfeck, 
 tartly. 
 
 " So it may be, my dear ; I never know the names right ; but it was 
 a dark old man, with a hairy cap and a long gray beard, as like Father 
 Morris Heffernan as ever it could stare." 
 
 " Is your new Carlo Dolce so very like Olivia ?" interposed Mrs. 
 Kennyfeck, who was sadly hampered by her country relatives and their 
 reminiscences. 
 
 *' So very like, Madame, that I beg you to accept it as a portrait," 
 replied Roland. 
 
 " Upon my word, then, young gentleman, you're not so fond of a 
 pretty face as you might be," broke in Aunt Fanny, "or you wouldn't 
 be so ready to give it away." A very hearty laugh at the old lady's 
 eccentricity relieved Cashel from all necessity of explanation. 
 
 " The old masters are so good," said Mrs. Kennyfeck ; " I delight in 
 their fine vigorous touch." 
 
 "Why don't they put more clothes on their figures," said Aunt 
 Fanny ; " even a warm climate is no excuse for the way the creatures 
 went about." 
 
 " If you saw them in Hickweretickanookee," said Peter, '^ King John 
 never wore any thing but a cocked hat and a pair of short black gaiters 
 the missionary gave him for learning the Lord's Prayer." 
 
 "I hear that Lady Janet said Gary Avould be an excellent study for 
 Helen M'Gregor," said Mrs. Kennyfeck. " It was scarcely civil, how- 
 ever." 
 
 " It was more — downright rude," said Cashel, reddening, "but Miss 
 Kennyfeck can afford to pay the penalty beauty always yields to its 
 opposite." 
 
 " There, my dear, that's a compliment," said Aunt Fanny, " and don't 
 be displeased. I say, darling, didn't he say a while ago you were like 
 somebody at Carlow ?" 
 
 " A Carlo Dolce, aunt," broke in both sisters, laughing, and so the 
 dinner proceeded amid commonplaces, relieved occasionally from their 
 
 N 2 
 
180 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 flatness by the absurdities of Aunt Fanny, who seemed as good-naturedly 
 proof against ridicule as she was likely to evoke it. 
 
 Peter was the first to rise from table, as he was anxious to go to '• the 
 play," and the ladies soon retired to the drawing-room, Mrs. Kennyfeck 
 slily whispering, as she passed behind Roland's chair, an entreaty that 
 he would not long delay in following them. Cashel's anxiety to close 
 his tete-a-tete arose from another cause — his burning anxiety to finish 
 Enriquez's letter ; while Kennyfeck himself seemed beating about, un- 
 certain how to open subjects he desired to have discussed. After a long 
 pause he said, 
 
 " I was speaking to Pepystell yesterday, and he is of opinion that 
 there is no use in preserving any part of the old structure at Tubber- 
 more — the great difficulty of adapting a new character of architecture 
 to the old would not repay the cost." 
 
 Cashel nodded a careless assent, and after a pause Kennyfeck re- 
 sumed. 
 
 " It might be of some convenience at present, however, to let the 
 building stand as it is. A residence of one kind or other you will want, 
 particularly as the elections are approaching." 
 
 Another nod in silence was all the reply. 
 
 *' Pepystell's estimate is large, don't you think so?" 
 
 He nodded again. 
 
 " Nearly seventy thousand pounds ! and that, does not include the 
 gate tower, which seems a point for after consideration." 
 
 " I remember," muttered Cashel, in a voice that implied any thing 
 rather than a mind attentive to the subject before it. 
 
 " Now, it would be as well," said Mr. Kennyfeck, drawing a long 
 breath, and as it were preparing himself for a great effort, " to put a 
 little order into our affairs. Your first year or two will be costly ones, 
 building expenses, equipage, horses, furniture, election charges. Much 
 of your capital is vested in foreign securities, which it would be injurious 
 to sell at this moment — don't you think — " here he changed his voice 
 to an almost insinuating softness, *' don't you think that by devoting a 
 certain portion of your income — say a third, or one-half, perhaps — for 
 the present, to meet these charges — " he paused, for he saw from Cashel's 
 occupied look that he was not attending to his words. 
 
 *•' Well, continue," said Roland, affecting to wait for his conclusion. 
 
 " I was about to ask, sir," said Kennyfeck, boldly, " what sum would 
 you deem sufficient for your yearly expenditure?" 
 
 " What is the amount of my income ?" asked Cashel, bluntly. 
 
 " In good years, something above sixteen thousand pounds ; in bad 
 ones, somewhat less than twelve." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 181 
 
 " Well then — you have the scale of my expenditure at once." 
 
 *' Not your whole Income?'' exclaimed Kennyfeck, astonished. 
 
 " Even so. I see no earthly reason for hoarding. I do not find that 
 squandering money is any very high enjoyment. I am certain scraping 
 and saving it, would afford me still less pleasure." 
 
 *' But there are always casualties demanding extraordinary expense— 
 a contested election, for instance." 
 
 " I'll not try It — I don't intend to enter Parliament." 
 
 " When you marry — " 
 
 *' Perhaps I shall not do that either." 
 
 *' Well, sums lost at play — the turf has pressed on many a strong 
 pocket." 
 
 " Play has no fascination for me, I can give it up — I may almost say 
 I have done so." 
 
 " Not without paying a heavy penalty, however," said Kennyfeck, 
 whose animation showed that he had at last approached the territory he 
 was so long in search of. 
 
 " How do you mean ?' said Cashel, hlushing deeply, as he began to 
 fear that by some accident his secret visit to the money-lender had reached 
 Kennyfeck 's ears. 
 
 " Your drafts on Latrobe, sir, whose account I have received to-day, 
 are very heavy." 
 
 " Oh, is that all ?" said Cashel, carelessly. 
 
 ** All ! all !" repeated Kennyfeck, then suddenly correcting himself, 
 he added, " I am almost certain, sir, that your generous habits have over- 
 mastered your prudence. Are you aware of having drawn fifty thousand 
 pounds ?" 
 
 *' No, I really was not," replied Cashel, smiling more at the attorney's 
 look of consternation than any thing else. " I fancied about half as 
 much. Pray tell me some of the items. No, no, not from book, that 
 looks far too formal. Just, from memory." 
 
 " Well, there are horses without number —one bought with all his 
 engagements for the Oaks, which amount to a forfeiture of four thou- 
 sand pounds." 
 
 " I remember that — a piece of Linton's blundering — but he lost more 
 heavily himself, poor fellow, our steed Lanzknecht having turned out a 
 dead failure." 
 
 *' Then there is something about a villa at Cowes, which I am certain 
 you never saw." 
 
 " No; but I have a drawing of it somewhere — a pretty thing under a 
 cliff, with a beautiful bay of deep water, and good anchorage. Linton 
 knows all about it." 
 
182 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 *' Twelve thousand pounds is a large sum to give without ever seeing 
 the purchase." 
 
 " So it is — but go on." 
 
 " I cannot remember one half ; but there is plate and jewels ; sums 
 advanced for building ; subscriptions to every thing and every body ; a 
 heavy amount transmitted to the Havannah." 
 
 " Very true, and that reminds me of a letter which I received at the 
 very moment 1 was leaving home. Have I your leave to finish the 
 reading ? It is from an old and valued comrade." 
 
 " Of course — don't think of me for a instant," said Kennyfeck, scarcely 
 able to repress an open acknowledgment of his amazement at the cool- 
 ness which could turn from so interesting a topic to the, doubtless com- 
 mon-place, narrative of some Mexican sador. 
 
 Cashel was, meanwhile, searching every pocket for the letter, which he 
 well remembered, after reading in the carriage, to have crushed in his 
 hand, as he ascended the stairs. " I have dropped this letter," said he, 
 in a voice of great agitation. " May I ask if your servants have found 
 it ?" 
 
 The bell was rung, and the butler at once interrogated ; he had seen 
 nothing, neither had the footman. They both remembered, however, 
 that Mr. Phillis had accompanied his master to the foot of the stairs to 
 receive some directions, and then left him to return with the carriage. 
 
 " So then Phillis must have found it," said Cashel, rising hastily, 
 and without a word of apology or excuse, he bade his host a hurried 
 good evening and left the room. 
 
 " Won't you have the carriage ? "Will you not stay for a cup of tea," 
 cried Mr. Kennyfeck, hastening after him, but the hall door had already 
 banged heavily behind him, and he was gone. When Cashel reached his 
 house, it was to endure increased anxiety, for Mr. Phillis had gone out, 
 and like a true gentleman's gentleman, none of the other servants knew 
 any thing of his haunts, or, when he would return. Leaving Cashel, 
 then, to the tortures of a suspense, which his fervid nature made almost 
 intolemble, we shall return for a brief space to the house he had just 
 quitted, and to the drawing-room, where, in momentary expectation of 
 his appearance, the ladies sat, maintaining that species of " staccato" con- 
 versation which can afford interruption with least inconvenience. It is 
 our duty to add, that we bring our reader back here less with any direct 
 object as to what is actually going forward than to make him better 
 acquainted with the new arrival. 
 
 Had Miss O'Hara been the mere quiet, easy-going, simple-minded 
 elderly maiden she seemed to Cashel's eyes, the step on our part had not 
 been needed j she might, like some other characters of our tale, have been 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 183 
 
 suffered to glide by, as ghosts or stage-supernumeraries do, unquestioned 
 and undetained, but she possessed quaUties of a kind to demand some- 
 what more consideration. xAunt Fanny, to give her the title by which 
 she was best known, was, in reality, a person of the keenest insight into 
 others — reading people at sight, and endowed with a species of in- 
 tuitive perception of all the possible motives which lead to any action. 
 Residing totally in a small town in the west of Ireland, she rarely 
 visited the capital, and was now, in fact, brought up " special" by her 
 sister, Mrs. Kennyfeck, who desired to have her advice and counsel on 
 the prospect of securing Cashel for one or other of her daughters. It 
 was so far a wise step, that in such a conjuncture no higher opinion 
 could have been obtained. 
 
 " It was like getting a private hint from the Chancellor about a cause 
 in equity." This was Mr. Kennyfeck's own illustration. 
 
 Aunt Fanny was then there in the guise of a Domestic Detective, to 
 watch proceedings and report on them — a function which simplifies the 
 due conduct of a case, be it in love or law, beyond any thing. 
 
 " How agreeable your papa must be this evening, my dear," said Mrs. 
 Kennyfeck, as with a glance at the clock on the mantel-piece, she recog- 
 nised that it was near ten. 
 
 " I'm sure he is deep in one of his interminable law arguments, 
 which always makes JVIr. Cashel so sleepy and so stupid, that he never 
 recovers for the rest of the evening." 
 
 " He ought to find the drawing-room all the pleasanter for the con- 
 trast," remarked Miss O'Hara, drily; " I like to see young men — mind 
 me well, young men, it doesn't do with old ones — thoroughly bored 
 before they come among the ladies. The sudden change to the tea, 
 and the wax-lights, and the bright eyes, are trying stimulants. Let 
 them, however, be what they call ' pleasant' below stairs, and they are 
 sure to come up, flushed and excited, well satisfied with the host's claret, 
 and only anxious to order the carriage — what a clock is it now?" 
 " A quarter past ten, aunt." 
 
 " Too late, full three-quarters too late," ejaculated she, with the tone 
 of an oracle ; " there is nothing your father could have to say should 
 have detained him till now. Play that little Mexican thing again, my 
 dear ; and, Livy, love, leave the door a little open, don't you find the 
 heat of this room intolerable ?" 
 
 The young ladies obeyed, and meanwhile Aunt Fanny, drawing her 
 chair closer to her sister's, said, in a low tone — 
 
 " Wei], explain the matter more clearly ; did he give her the dia- 
 monds ?" 
 
 " No, that is the strangest of all," responded Mrs. Kennyfeck ; " he 
 
184 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 just told Leward to send them home, and we never heard more about 
 them." 
 
 Aunt Fanny shook her head. 
 
 " You know, he asked Olivia, as they were going down stairs, 
 ■what she thought of them ; and she replied, ' they're beautiful.' " 
 
 " How did she say it though ; was it like a mere casual remark, or 
 did she make it with feeling?" 
 
 " With feeling," echoed Mrs. Kennyfeck, pursing up her lips. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Well !" he just said, * I'll take them,' and there was an end of it.'* 
 
 Aunt Fanny seemed to reflect, and, after some time, said : — 
 
 " Now, as to the horse, when did he make her a present of that ?" 
 
 " It was to Caroline he gave the horse ; sure I told you already." 
 
 '' Very true, so you did : a bad feature of the case, too ! She ought 
 to have declined it somehow\" 
 
 " So she would," broke in Mrs. Kennyfeck ; " but you perceive, it 
 was very doubtful, at the time, which of the girls he preferred." 
 
 " And you tell me, this Mr. Linton has such influence over him." 
 
 " The most absolute. It is only a few weeks since they became 
 acquainted, and now they are inseparable." 
 
 " What is he like, — Linton himself?" 
 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck gave a most significant signal, by closing up her 
 lips, and slowly nodding her head — a gesture that seemed well under- 
 stood. 
 
 " Does Kennyfeck know nothing of his affairs — has he no private 
 history of the man, which might be useful to us." 
 
 " Don't think of that, my dear," rejoined Mrs. Kennyfeck, knowingly; 
 " but here they come at last." This was said with reference to the 
 sound of footsteps on the stairs, which gradually approached, and at 
 last Mr. Kennyfeck made his appearance in the drawing-room. 
 
 " Where is Mr. Cashel ; is he gone ?" asked Mrs. Kennyfeck, in an 
 accent of unusual anxiety. 
 
 " He went away above an hour ago. He wanted to see a letter, or 
 to write one, or to look for one he had lost, — I forget which." 
 
 " I'm certain you do !" observed Mrs. Kennyfeck, with an expression 
 of unequivocal contempt. " I am perfectly certain we need not look to 
 you for either information or assistance." 
 
 Poor Mr. Kennyfeck was dumbfoundered. The very words were 
 riddles to him, and he turned to each person about him in silent en- 
 treaty for explanation — but none came. 
 
 " What had you been conversing about ?" asked Aunt Fanny, in that 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 185 
 
 encouraging tone lawyers sometimes use to draw out a reluctant 
 or bashful witness. 
 
 " Of his money affairs, Miss O'Hara ; and I am grieved to say that 
 the subject had so little interest for him, that he started up and left me, 
 on suddenly remembering something about a letter.'' 
 
 " Which something you have totally forgotten," remarked Mrs. 
 Kenny feck, tartly. 
 
 "And yet it would be a most important fact for us," observed Aunt 
 Fanny, with judicial solemnity, '■ a letter whether to read or to write, 
 of such pressing necessity implies nmch." 
 
 *' Come Livy, dear," said Miss Kennyfeck, rising from the piano- 
 forte and addressing her sister, who sat reading on the sofa ; " my can- 
 zonette and your beautiful attitude are so much sweetness thrown away. 
 He's gone without even a thought of either ! There, there, don't look so 
 innocently vacant — you understand me perfectly." 
 
 A very gentle smile was all the younger sister's reply as she left the 
 room. 
 
 " Depend upon it, my dear," said Miss O'Hara to Mrs. Kennyfeck, 
 " that young man had made some unhappy connexion, that's the secret 
 of this letter, and when they get into a scrape of the kind it puts marriage 
 out of their heads altogether. It was the same with Captain Morris," 
 —here she whispered still lower, the only audible words being, " without 
 my ever suspecting— one evening — alow creature — never set eyes upon, 
 — ah, man, man ! ' and with this exclamation aloud. Aunt Fanny took 
 her candle and retired. 
 
 About a minute after, however, she re-entered the drawing-room, and 
 advancing close to her sister said, with all the solemnity of deep thought, 
 
 " Peter is no good in this case, my dear, send him home at once. 
 That man will ' blaze' for the asking," and with a nod of immense sig- 
 nificance she finally withdrew. 
 
 I 
 
186 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Arcades ambo— Blackguards both! 
 
 In the window of a very pretty cottage-room overlooking the Liffey, 
 and that romantic drive, so well known to Dubliners as the "low road" to 
 Lucan, sat Tom Linton. He was enjoying a cigar and a glass of weak 
 negus, as a man may enjoy such luxuries seated in the easiest of chairs, 
 looking out upon one of the sweetest of woodland landscapes, and feel- 
 ing the while that the whole was "his own." If conscientious scruples 
 had been any part of that gentleman's life philosophy, he might have 
 suffered some misgivings, seeing that the cottage itself, its furniture, the 
 plate, the very horses in the stable and the grooms about it, had been 
 won at the hazard-table, and from one whose beggary ended in suicide. 
 But Linton did not dwell on such things, and if they did for an instant 
 cross his mind, he dismissed them at once with a contemptuous pity for 
 the man who could not build up a fortune by the arts with which he had 
 lost one. He had not begun the world himself with much principle, 
 and all his experiences went to prove that even less would suffice, and 
 that for the purposes of the station he occupied, and the society he fre- 
 quented, it was only necessary that he should not transgress in his 
 dealings with men of a certain rank and condition ; so that while every 
 transaction with people of class and fashion should be strictly on ''the 
 square," he was at perfect liberty to practise any number of sharp things 
 with all beneath them. It was the old axiom of knight errantry adapted 
 to our own century, which made every weapon fair used against the 
 plebeian ! 
 
 From a pleasant reverie over some late successes and some future ones 
 in anticipation, he was aroused by a gentle tap at the door. 
 
 " Come in," said he, *' I think I guess who it is — Phillis, eh ?" 
 
 "Yes, Sir, you're quite correct," said that individual, advancing from 
 the misty twilight of the room, which was only partly lighted by a single 
 alabaster lamp. " I thought I'd find you at home, Sir, and I knew this 
 letter might interest you. He dropped it when going up the stairs at 
 Kennyfeck's, and could scarcely have read it through." 
 
 " Sit down, George — sit down, man — what will you take ; I see 
 you've had a fast drive ; if that was your car, I heard on the road, your 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 187 
 
 pace was tremendous. What shall it be — claret — sherry — brandy and 
 water." 
 
 " If you please, Sir, sherry. I have lost all palate for Bordeaux since 
 I came to Mr. Cashel. We get abominable wine from Cullan." 
 
 *' So I remarked myself, but this must be looked to. Come, try that, 
 it's some of Gordon's, and he would not send a bad bottle to me.'* 
 
 " I am very certain of that. Sir. It is excellent." 
 
 " Now then for the epistle," so saying, he lighted a taper and pre- 
 pared to read. "Jamaica, oh, a shipmate's letter." 
 
 "A curious one too, sir, as you'll say when you read it." 
 
 Linton without reply began to read, nor did he break silence till 
 he finished, when, laying down the paper, he said, " And this very fellow 
 who writes this, he actually spoke of inviting to Ireland — to stay some 
 time at his house — to be introduced, in fact, to his acquaintances as a 
 personal friend." 
 
 " It's very sad, Sir," sighed Phillis ; " I have long been of opinion 
 that I must leave him. The appointments, it is true, are good, perqui- 
 sites, too, very handsome — but the future, Mr. Linton, what a future it 
 wm be !" 
 
 " It need not be a very near one, at all events," said Linton, smiling ; 
 " you've read this ?" 
 
 " Just threw an eye over it, Sir ! 
 
 " Well, you see that your excellent master has been little better than 
 a pirate or a slaver." 
 
 " Very shocking, indeed, Sir !" 
 
 " Of course this must not get abroad, George." 
 
 " It would ruin me, utterly. Sir." 
 
 " To be sure it would. No nobleman, not any gentleman of rank or 
 fashion could think of engaging your services after such an appointment. 
 Happily, George, you may not require such, if you only mind your hits. 
 Your master can afford to make your fortime, and never know himself 
 the poorer. Come, how go on matters latterly at No. 50." 
 
 " Pretty much as usual. Sir ; two dinner parties last week.'* 
 
 " I know all about them, though I affected to be engaged and didn't 
 dine there. What I want is, to hear of these Kennyfecks, do they come 
 much after him ?" 
 
 *' Only once, Sir, when they came to see the house and stopped to 
 luncheon." 
 
 " Well, was he particular in his attentions to either of the daughters ?" 
 
 ** Very attentive indeed, Sir, to the younger. She dropped her hand- 
 kerchief in the gallery, and ran back for it, and so did he, Sir." 
 
188 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " You followed, of course." 
 
 " I did, Sir, and she was blushing" very much as I came in, and I heard 
 her say something about * forgiving him,' and then, they left the 
 room." 
 
 " And what of Kennyfeck, has he had any conversations witli him on 
 business? ' 
 
 *' None Sir ; I have strictly followed your orders, and never admitted 
 him." 
 
 **Lord Charles Frobisher was a large winner t'other night," said 
 Linton, after a pause. 
 
 " Yes, Sir, so I heard them say at supper, and Mr. Cashel first gave 
 him a check and then changed his mind, and I saw him hand over a heavy 
 sum in notes." 
 
 " Indeed ! ' muttered Linton to himself, " and my worthy friend 
 Charley did not confess this to me." 
 
 " Have you taken care that the people don't send in their bills and 
 accounts, as I mentioned ?" 
 
 " Yes, Sir, with a few exceptions, nothing of the kind comes." 
 
 " What brought that Mr. Clare Jones so frequently of late ?" 
 
 *' He came twice in Mr. Dudley Meek's carriage. Sir, but sat all the 
 while outside, while Mr. Meek was with my master ; the third day, how- 
 ever, he was sent for to come in, and spent nearly an hour in the 
 study." 
 
 *' Well, what took place ? ' 
 
 " I could only hear part of the conversation, Sir, as I feared I might 
 be sent for. The subject was a seat in Parliament, which Mr. Cashel 
 owns, and that Mr. Meek is desirous of procuring for Jones." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! my little Judas ! is that your game ? Go on George, 
 this Interests me." 
 
 " I have little more to tell, Sir, for Mr. Meek always speaks so low, 
 and my master scarcely said any thing." 
 
 " And Jones ?" 
 
 "He merely remarked on the identity of his political principles with 
 those of the present Government." 
 
 " Of course the fellow began as a Radical and then turned Tory, and 
 now is a Whig. Blue and yellow when mixed always make green. But 
 how did it end ?" 
 
 " As well as I could perceive, Sir, without any promise. My master 
 was to deliberate and send his answer." 
 
 " Let neither have access to him till you hear from me again— mark 
 that." 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 189 
 
 " You shall be obeyed, Sir." 
 
 "Did Lord Kilgoff call?" 
 
 " Twice, Sir ; but my master was out. I followed your directions, 
 however, and said that her ladyship was with him, and he seemed much 
 provoked at not finding him at home." 
 
 " Well, how did he take it — did he make any remark ?" 
 
 " A half smile, Sir ; nothing more." 
 
 " But said nothing." 
 
 " Not a word, Sir." 
 
 Linton arose and walked the room in deep meditation ; at last he 
 said, 
 
 " You had better let him have those letters we held back the last two 
 days, to-day. He'll not think deeply over his losses on the Derby, while 
 dwelling on this missing letter.'' 
 
 " I don't suspect his losses, Sir, will cause much uneasiness on any 
 score ; money occupies very little of his thoughts." 
 
 " True, but here the sum is a very heavy one. I made the book myself, 
 and stood to win thirty thousand pounds ; but, no matter, it can't be 
 helped now — better luck another time. Now, another point. It strikes 
 me of late, that he seems bored somewhat by the kind of life he is lead- 
 ing, and that these carouses at the messes are becoming just as distasteful 
 to him as the heavy dinner parties with the Dean and the rest of them. 
 Is that your opinion ?" 
 
 " Perfectly, Sir. He even said as much to me t'other evening, when 
 he came back from a late supper. He is always wishing for the Yacht to 
 come over — speaks every now and then of taking a run over to London 
 and Paris — in fact, Sir, he is bored here. There is no disguising it." 
 
 " I feared as much, George ; I suspected many a day ago, he would 
 not be long satisfied with the provincial boards. But this must not be; 
 once away from Dublin, he is lost to us for ever. I know, and so do you 
 know, the hands he would fall into in town ; better let him get back to 
 his old Prairie haunts, for a while, than that." 
 
 ** Not so very unlikely, Sir; he sits pouring over maps and charts for 
 hours together, and scans the new coast survey like a man bent on 
 exploring the scenes for himself. It is hard to say what is best to do 
 with him." 
 
 " I'll tell you what he must not be permitted to do with himself: he 
 must not leave Ireland — he must not marry — he must not enter Parlia- 
 ment — and, for the moment, to employ his thoughts and banish ennui, 
 we'll get up the house-warming at Tubbermore. I mean to set off thi- 
 ther to-morrow." 
 
190 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 « Without Mr. Cashel, Sir ?" 
 
 " Of course, be it your care that matters are well looked to in my 
 ahsence, and as Kennyfeck's house is safer than the barracks, he may 
 dine there as often as he pleases. Keep a watch on Jones, not that I 
 think he'll be very dangerous; see after Lord Charles, whether he may 
 try to profit by my absence j and, above all, write me a bulletin each 
 day.- 
 
 Mr. Phillis promised a strict obedience to orders, and rose to retire, 
 pleading the necessity of his being at home when his master returned. 
 
 " What of this letter. Sir ? Shall I contrive to place it in his pocket, 
 and discover it as he is undressing? lie never suspects any thing or 
 any body." 
 
 " No, George, I'll keep it ; it may turn out useful to us one of these 
 days, there's no knowing when or how. I'm curious, too, to see how 
 he will act with reference to it, whether he will venture on any confi- 
 dence towards me ; I suspect not, he never alludes to his by-gones. 
 The only terror his mind is capable of, would seem the fear of fashion- 
 able contempt. If he ever lose this, he's lost to us for ever." This 
 was said rather in soliloquy than addressed to Phillis, who did not ap- 
 pear to catch the meaning of the remark. " You'll leave this note on 
 his table, and take care he sees it. It is to remind him of an appoint- 
 ment here to-morrow with Hoare, the money-lender, at eleven o'clock, 
 punctually." 
 
 Phillis took the note, and after a very respectful leave-taking, with- 
 drew. 
 
 " Yes," said Linton, musing, as he leaned against the window; " all 
 goes fairly so far. Mr. Phillis may live to see himself once more a Mer- 
 chant-Tailor in Cheapside, and Tom Linton, under the buckler of his 
 M.P., defy duns and bums, and be again a denizen of the only City 
 worth living in." 
 
 He then reseated himself in his easy- chair, and prepared to con over 
 the letters to which he had only given a passing attention. The nar- 
 rative of Enriquez, full of exciting details, and hair-breadth 'scapes, was, 
 however, far less an object of interest to Linton than the consideration 
 how far a character like this might be made use of, for the purpose of 
 threat and intimidation over Cashel. 
 
 His reflections ran somewhat thus. The day may come, — is, perhaps, 
 even now nigh, — when Cashel shall reject my influence and ascendancy. 
 There never has been any thing which could even counterfeit friendship 
 between us, — close intimacy has been all. To maintain that hold over 
 him so necessary to my fortunes, I must be in a position to menace. Ro- 
 
ROLAJO) CASHEL. 191 
 
 land, himself, has opened the way to this hy his own reserve. The 
 very concealment he has practised implies fear ; — otherwise, why, — in 
 all the openness of our familiar intercourse, — never have mentioned 
 Enriquez' name, — still more, — never once alluded to this Maritana ? 
 It is clear enough, with what shame he looks back on the past. Let 
 mine be the task to increase that feeling, and build up the fear of the 
 world's ridicule, till he shall be the slave of every whisper that 
 syllables his name ! The higher his path in society, the greater 
 the depth to which disclosures may consign him ; and what disclosures 
 so certainly ruinous as to connect him with the lawless marauders of the 
 Spanish main — the slaver and the pirate. His dear friend a felon, 
 taken in open fight by a Biitish cruiser ! Maritana, too, may serve us; 
 her name as mistress, — or if need be, as wife, — will effectually oppose any 
 matrimonial speculations here. So far, this letter has been a rare piece 
 of fortune ! 
 
 For some moments he walked the room with excited and animated 
 looks. The alternating shadesof pleasure and its opposite, flitting rapidly 
 across his strong features. At last he broke out in words. " Aye, Cashel, 
 I am as suddenly enriched as yourself, — but with a different heritage. 
 Yours was Gold. Mine Revenge ! And there are many to whom I 
 could pay the old debt home. There's Forster, with his story of 
 Ascot, and his black-ball at Graham's ! a double debt, with years of 
 heavy interest upon it. There's Howard, too, that closed his book at 
 Tattersall's, after tearing out the leaf that had my name ! Frobisher 
 himself, daring his petty insolence at every turn ! all these cry for 
 acquittance, and shall have it. There are few men of my own standing, 
 that with monied means at my command, I could not ruin ! 
 
 "And, ungallant as the boast may be, some fair ladies, too! How I 
 have longed for the day, how I have schemed and plotted for it ; and 
 now it comes almost unlocked for. 
 
 " Another month or two of this wasteful extravagance, and Cashel 
 will be deeply, seriously embarrassed. Kennyfeck will suggest entrench- 
 ment and economy ; that, shall be met by an insidious doubt of the 
 good man's honesty. And how easy to impeach it ! The schemes of 
 his wife and daughter will aid the accusation. Roland shall, mean- 
 while, learn the discomfort of being ' hard up.' The importunity — nay, 
 the insolence — of duns shall assail him at every post and every hour. 
 From this, there is but one bold, short step — and take it, he must — 
 make me his agent. That done, all the rest is easy. Embarrassment 
 and injurious reports will soon drive him from the country, and from an 
 
192 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 estate he sball never revisit as his own ! So far — the first act of the 
 Drama. The second discovers Tom Linton the owner of Tubbermore, 
 and the Host of Lord and Lady Kilgoff, who have condescendingly 
 agreed to pass the Easter recess with him. Mr. Linton has made a very 
 splendid maiden speech, which, however, puzzles the Ministers and the 
 * Times,' and, if he were not a man perfectly indifferent to place, would 
 expose him to the imputation of courting it. 
 
 " And Laura, all this while !" said he, in a voice whose accents trem- 
 bled with intense feeling ; " can she forgive the past ? Will old me- 
 mories revive old affections, or will they rot into hatred. Well," cried 
 he, sternly, " whichever way they turn, I'm prepared." 
 
 There was a tone of triumphant meaning in his last words, that seemed 
 to thrill through his frame, and as he threw himself back upon a seat, 
 and gazed out upon the starry sky, his features wore the look of proud 
 and insolent defiance. " So is it," said he, after a pause, " one must be 
 alone — friendless, and alone — in life, to dare the world so fearlessly." 
 He filled a goblet of sherry, and, as he drank it off, cried, *•' Courage, 
 Tom Linton against 'the field!'" 
 
ROLAXD CASHEL. 193 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 *' Eternal friendship let us swear, 
 In fraud at least — ' nous serons freres.' " 
 
 "Robert Macaike." 
 
 Cashel passed a night of feverish anxiety. Enriquez* uncertain 
 fate was never out of his thoughts, and if &r a moment he dropped off 
 to sleep, he immediately awoke with a sudden start, — some fancied cry 
 for help, — some heart-uttered appeal to him for assistance, breaking in 
 upon his weary slumber. 
 
 How ardently did he wish for some one friend to whom he might 
 confide his difficulty, and from whom receive advice and comisel. 
 Linton's shrewdness and knowledge of life, pointed him out as the 
 fittest ; but how to reveal to his fashionable friend the secrets of that 
 buccaneering life he had himself so lately quitted ? How expose 
 himself to the dreaded depreciation a " fine gentleman" might visit 
 on a career passed amid slavers and pirates. A month or two previous, 
 he could not have understood such scruples ; but already, the frivolities 
 and excesses of daily habit had thrown an air of savage rudeness over 
 the memory of his western existence, and he had not the courage to- 
 brave the comments it might suggest. To this false shame had Linton 
 brought him, — acting on a naturally sensitive nature, by those insidious^ 
 and imperceptible counsels which represent the world — meaning, there- 
 by, that portion of it, who are in the purple and fine linen category — 
 as the last appeal in all cases, not alone of a man's breeding and preten- 
 sions, but of his honour and independence. 
 
 It was not without many a severe struggle, and many a heart-felt 
 repining, Cashel felt himself surrender the free action of his natural 
 independence, to the petty and formal restrictions of a code like this. 
 But there was an innate dread of notoriety, a sensitive shrinking from 
 remark, that made liim actually timid about transgressing whatever 
 he was told to be an ordinance of fashion. To dress in a particular 
 way — to frequent certain places — to be known to certain people— to 
 go out at certain hours — and so on, — were become to his mind as the 
 actual requirements of his station, and often he did regret the hour when 
 he had parted with his untrammelled freedom, to live a life of routine and 
 monotony. 
 
 Shrinking, then, from any confidence in Linton, he next thought of 
 
 o 
 
194 K0LAlO> CASHEL. 
 
 Kennyfeck ; and although not placing a high value on his skill and 
 correctness in such a diflficulty, he resolved, at all hazards, to consult him 
 on the course to be followed. He had been often told how gladly Go- 
 vernment favours the possessor of fortune and influence. Now, thought 
 he, is the time to test the problem.—" All of mine is at their service, 
 if they but liberate my poor comrade." 
 
 So saying to himself, he had just reached the hall, when the sound of 
 wheels approached the door. A carriage drew up, and Linton, followed 
 by Mr. Hoare, the money-lender, descended. 
 
 " Oh, I had entirely forgotten this affair," cried Cashel, as he met 
 them, " can we not fix another day V 
 
 " Impossible, Sir, — I leave town to-night." 
 
 " Another hour to-day, then," said Cashel, impatiently. 
 
 " This will be very difficult, Sir. I have some very pressing engage- 
 ments, all of which were formed, subject to your convenience in this 
 business," 
 
 " But while you are discussing the postponement, you could finish 
 the whole affair," cried Linton, drawing his arm within Cashel's, and 
 leading him along towards the library. " By Jove, it does gi^^e a man 
 a sublime idea of wealth, to be siire," said he, laughing, *' to see the 
 cool indifference with which you can propose to defer an interview, that 
 brings you some fifteen thousand pounds. As for me ! — I'd make 
 the Vice-Roy himself play * antichamber,' if little Hoare paid me a 
 visit." 
 
 "Well, be it so; only let us despatch," said Cashel, "for I am 
 anxious to catch Kennyfeck before he goes down to Court." 
 
 " I'll not detain you many minutes, Sir," said Hoare, drawing forth 
 a very capacious black leather pocket-book, and opening it on the 
 table. " There are the Bills, drawn as agreed upon, — at three, and 
 six months — here is a statement of the charges for interest, commis- 
 sion, and — " 
 
 " I am quite satisfied it is all right," said Cashel, pushing the paper 
 carelessly from him. " I have borrowed money once or twice in my 
 Hfe, and always thought any thing liberal which did not exceed cent 
 per cent." 
 
 " We are content with much less. Sir, — as you will perceive," said 
 Hoare, smiling. " Six per cent interest, — one-half commission — '* 
 
 *' Yes, yes. It is all perfectly correct," broke in Cashel. " I sign 
 my name here, — and here ?" 
 
 " And here, also. Sir. There is also a policy of insurance on your 
 hfe." 
 
 "What does that mean ?" 
 
EOLAAT) CASHEL. 195 
 
 ** Oh, a usual kind of security in these cases," said Linton ; " because 
 if you were to die before the Bills came due — " 
 
 " I see it all, — whatever you please," said Cashel, taking up his bat 
 and gloves. " Now, will you pardon me for taking a very abrupt 
 leave ?" 
 
 " You are forgetting a very material point. Sir," said Hoare; "tliis 
 is an order on Frend and Beggan for the money.** 
 
 " Very true. The fact is. Gentlemen, my head is none of the clearest, 
 to-day. Good-bye — good-bye." 
 
 " Ten to one, all that haste is to keep some appointment witb one of 
 Kennyfeck's daughters," said Hoare, as he shook the sand over the 
 freshly signed bills, when the heavy bang of the hall-door announced 
 Cashel's departure. 
 
 "I fancy not," said Linton, musing; '*I believe I can guess the 
 secret." 
 
 " What am I to do with these, Mr. Linton," said the other, not heed- 
 ing the last observation, as he took two pieces of paper from the pocket 
 of his book. 
 
 " What are they ?" said Linton, stretching at full length on a 
 sofa. 
 
 *' Two bills, — with the endorsement of Thomas Linton." 
 " Then, are two ten shilling stamps spoiled, and good for nothing," 
 replied Linton, " which, without that respectable signature, might have 
 helped to ruin somebody worth ruining." 
 
 " One will be due on Saturday the twelfth. The other — " 
 "Don't trouble yourself about the dates, Hoare. I'll renew as 
 often as you please — I'll do any thing but pay." 
 
 " Come, Sir, I'll make a generous proposition : I have made a good 
 morning's work. You shall have them both for a hundred." 
 
 " Thanks for the liberality," said Linton, laughing. " You bought 
 them for fifty." 
 
 "I know that very weU; but remember, you were a very depreciated 
 stock at that time. Now, you are at a premium. I hear you have been 
 a considerable winner from our friend here." 
 
 " Then you are misinformed. I have won less than the others — far 
 less than I might have done. The fact is, Hoare, I have been playing 
 a back game — what jockies call — holding my stride." 
 
 " Well, take care you don't wait too long," said Hoare, senten- 
 tiously. 
 
 " How do you mean ?" said Linton, sitting up, and showing more 
 animation than he had exhibited before. 
 
 o 2 
 
196 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " You have your secret — I have mine," replied Hoare drily, as he 
 replaced the bills in his pocket-book and clasped it. 
 
 "What if we exchange prisoners, Hoare ?" 
 
 " It would be like most of your compacts, Mr. Linton, all the odds 
 in your own favour." 
 
 " I doubt whether any man makes such compacts with yoxi^^ replied 
 Linton, " but why higgle this way ? ' Remember,' as Peacham says, 
 * that we could hang one another,' and there is an ugly adage about 
 what happens — when people such as you and I 'fall out.' " 
 
 " So there is ; and, strange enough, I was just thinking of it. Come, 
 what is your secret ?" 
 
 " Read that," said Linton, placing Enriquez' letter in his hand, 
 while he sat down, directly in front, to watch the effect it might 
 produce. 
 
 Hoare read slowly and attentively ; some passages he re-read three 
 or four times ; and then, laying down the letter, he seemed to reflect on 
 its contents. 
 
 '• You scarcely thought what kind of company our friend used to keep 
 formerly ?" asked Linton, sneeringly. 
 
 " I knew all about that tolerably well. I was rather puzzling myself 
 a little about this Pedro Rica ; that same trick of capturing the slavers, 
 and then selling the slaves, is worthy of one I could mention, not to 
 speak of the double treachery of informing against his comrades, and 
 sending the English frigate after them." 
 
 " A deep hand he must be," remarked Linton, coolly. 
 
 " A very deep one ; but what is Cashel likely to do here ?" 
 
 " Nothing ; he has no clue whatever to the business, the letter itself 
 he had not time to read through, when he dropped it, and — '' 
 
 " I understand — perfectly. This accounts for all his agitation. Well, I 
 must say, my secret is the better of the two, and, as usual, you have 
 made a good bargain." 
 
 " Not better than your morning's work here. Hoare ; — confess 
 that." 
 
 " Ah, there will not be many more such harvests to reap," said he, 
 sighing. , 
 
 " How so ? his fortune is scarcely breached, as yet." 
 
 " He spends money fast," said Hoare, gravely, " even now, see 
 what sums he has squandered — think of the presents he has lavished — dia- 
 monds — horses — " 
 
 " As to the Kennyfeck affair, it was better than getting into a matri- 
 monial scrape, which I fancy I have rescued him from." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 197 
 
 " Oh, no, nothing of the kind. Pirate as he is, he wouldn't venture 
 on that." 
 
 " Why so — what do you mean ?" 
 
 " Simply, that he is married already ; at least, that species of betrothal 
 which goes for marriage in his free and easy country." 
 
 "Married," exclaimed Linton, in utter amazement, "and he never 
 even hinted in the most distant manner to this." 
 
 "And yet, the obligation is sufficiently binding, according to Colum- 
 bian Law, to give his widow the benefit of all property he might die pos- 
 sessed of, in that Republic." 
 
 ** And he knows this himself ?" 
 
 " So well, that he has already proposed a very large sum as forfeit to 
 break the contract." 
 
 " And this has been refused ?" 
 
 " Yes. The girl's father has thought it better to follow your own 
 plan, and make * a waiting race,' well knowing that if Cashel does 
 not return to claim her as his wife — or that, — which is not improbable, 
 she may marry more advantageously, he will always be ready to pay the 
 forfeit." 
 
 " May I learn his name ?" 
 
 " No !" 
 
 " Nor his daughter's, — the Christian name, I mean ?'* 
 
 " To what end ? It would be a mere idle curiosity, — for I should 
 exact a pledge of your never divulging it." 
 
 " Of course," said Linton, carelessly. " It was as you say, a mere 
 idle wish. Was this a love affair, then, for it has a most commercial 
 air ?" 
 
 " I really don't know that ; I fancy that they were both very young, 
 and very ignorant of what they were pledging, and just as indifferent to 
 the consequences." 
 
 " She was handsome, this — " 
 
 "Marltana — is beautiful, they say," said Hoare, who inadvertently 
 let slip the name he had refused to divulge. 
 
 Linton's quick ear caught it at once, but as rapidly affected not to 
 notice it, as he said, 
 
 " But I really do not see as yet how this affects what we were just 
 speaking of ?" 
 
 " It will do so, however, — and ere long. These people, who were 
 immensely rich some time back, are now, by one of the convulsions so 
 frequent in those countries, reduced to absolute poverty. They will, 
 doubtless, follow Cashel here, and seek a fulfilment of his contract. I 
 need not tell you, Mr. Linton, what must ensue on such a demand. 
 
198 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 It would be hard to say, — whether acceptance, or refusal would be worse. 
 In a word, the father-in-law is a man of such a character, there 
 is only one thing would be more ruinous than his enmity, and that is, 
 any alliance with him. Let him but arrive in this country'-, and every 
 gentleman of station and class will fall back from Cashel's intimacy, 
 and even those — I'll not mention names — " said he, smiling, " who 
 could gloss over some of their prejudices with gold-leaf, will soon dis- 
 cover that a shrewder eye than Cashel's will be on them, and that all 
 attempts to profit by his easiness of temper, and reckless nature, will 
 be met by one, who has never yet been foiled in a game of artifice and 
 deceit." 
 
 " Then I perceive we have a very short tether," said Linton, gravely, 
 " when may this worthy gentleman be looked for?" 
 
 ** At any moment, — I believe, early in spring, however, will be the 
 time." 
 
 " Well — that gives us a few months; during which, I must contrive to 
 get in for this borough o2 Derraheeny, — but hark ! is that a carriage 
 at the door? — yes, by Jove. The Kennyfecks, — I remember, he had 
 asked them to-day to come and see his pictures. I say, Hoare, step 
 out by the back way, — we must not be caught together here. I'll make 
 my escape afterwards." 
 
 Already the thundering knock of the footman resounded through 
 the house, and Hoare, not losing a moment, left the library, and 
 hastened through the garden at the rear of the house ; while Linton, 
 seizing some writing materials, hurried up-stairs, and established him- 
 self in a small boudoir off one of the drawing-rooms, carefully letting 
 down the Venetians as he entered, and leaving the chamber but half 
 lighted; this done, he drew a screen in front of him, and waited 
 patiently. 
 
BOLAND CASHEL. 199 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 " Ignored the schools of Eratice and Spain 
 And of the Netherlands not surer 
 He knew not Cuyp from Claude Lorraine, 
 Nor Dow from Albret Durer." 
 
 Bell's "Images.' 
 
 Scarcely had the Kennyfecks' carriage driven from the door when 
 the stately equipage of the McFarlanes drew up, which wa3 soon after 
 followed by the very small pony phaeton of Mrs. Liecester Wliite, 
 that lady herself dri\4ng, and having for her companion a large high- 
 shouldered spectacled gentleman, whose glances at once inquiring and 
 critical, pronounced him as one of her numerous proteges in art, science, 
 or letters. 
 
 This visit to the " Cashel Gallery," as she somewhat grandi- 
 loquently designated the collection, had been a thing of her own 
 planning ; first, because Mrs. White was an adept in that skilful diplo- 
 macy which so happily makes plans for pleasure at other people's houses, 
 —and oh, what numbers there are, — dehghtful, charming people as the 
 world calls them ! whose gift goes no further than this, that they keep 
 a registry of their friends' acconmiodation, and know, to a nicety, the 
 season to dine, here, — to sup, there, — to pic-nic, at one place, and to "spend 
 the day," horrible expression of a more horrible fact, at another. But 
 Mrs. White had also another object in view on the present occasion, 
 ■which was, to introduce her companion, Mr. Elias Howie, to her Dublin 
 acquaintance. 
 
 Mr. Elias Howie was one of a peculiar class, wliich this age, so 
 fertile m inventions, has engendered, a pubHsher's man of all-work, 
 ready for every thing, from statistics to satire, and equally prepared to 
 expound prophecy, or write squibs for " Punch." 
 
 Not that lodgings were not inhabited in Grub Street before our day, 
 but that it remained for the glory of this century to see that numerous 
 horde of Tom-ist authors held in leash by fashionable Booksellers, and 
 every now and then let slip over some country, to which plague, 
 pestilence, or famine, had given a newer and more terrible interest. 
 In this novel walk of literature Mr. Howie was one of the chief 
 proficients ; he was the creator of that new school of travel, which 
 writing expressly for London readers refers every thing to the standard 
 
200 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 of " town," and whether it be a trait of Icelandic life, or some rem- 
 nant of old world existence in the far East, all must be brought for 
 trial to the bar of " Seven Dials," or stand to plead in the dock of 
 Pall Mall or Piccadilly. Whatever errors or misconceptions he might 
 fall into respecting his subjects he made none regarding his readers. 
 He knew them by heart, their leanings, their weakness and their prejudices; 
 and how pleasantly could he flatter their towTi-bred self-sufficiency, how 
 slily msinuate their vast superiority over all other citizens, insidiously 
 assuring them that the Thames at Richmond was infinitely finer than the 
 Rhiue or the Danube, and that a trip to Margate was richer in repayal 
 than a visit to the Bosphorus ! Ireland was, just at the time we speak 
 of, a splendid field for his pecuHar talents. The misery-mongers had 
 had their day. The world was somewhat weary of Landlordism, Pau- 
 perism, and Protestantism, and aU the other " isms" of that unhappy 
 country. 
 
 There was nothing that had not been said over the overgrow^i Church 
 estabhshment, — the devouring Middleman, — Cottier misery, — and Celtic 
 barbarism; people grew weary of hearing about a nation, so endowed 
 with capabilities, and which yet did nothing, and rather than puzzle their 
 heads any further, they voted Ireland a " bore." It was just then that " this 
 inspired Cockney" determined to try a new phase of the subject, and 
 this was not to counsel nor console, not to lament over or bewail our 
 varied mass of errors and misfortunes, but to laugh at us. To hunt out 
 as many incongruities, many, real enough, some, fictitious, as he could 
 find, to unveil all that he could discover of social anomaly; and without 
 any reference to, or any knowledge of the people, to bring them up for 
 judgment before his less volatile and more happily circumstanced coun- 
 trymen, certain of the verdict he sought for — a hearty laugh. His 
 mission was to make " Punch" out of Ireland, and none more capable 
 than he for the office. 
 
 A word of Mr. Howie in the flesh, and we have done. He was large 
 and heavily built, but neither muscular nor athletic ; his frame, and all 
 his gestures indicated weakness and imcertainty. His head was capacious, 
 but not remarkable for what phrenologists call moral developement, 
 while the sinister expression of his eyes, half submissive, half satirical, 
 suggested doubts of his sincerity. There was nothing honest about him 
 but his mouth ; this was large, fidl, thick lipped, and sensual ; the 
 mouth of one who loved to dine well, and yet felt that his agreeabdity was 
 an ample receipt in full for the best entertainment that ever graced 
 Black wall or the " Freres." 
 
 It is a heavy infliction that we story-tellers are compelled to lay upon 
 our readers and ourselves, thus to inteiTupt our narrative by a lengthened 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 201 
 
 description of a character not essentially belonging to our story, we had 
 rather, far rather, been enabled to imitate Mrs. White, as she advanced 
 into the circle in the dra^^ing-room, sapng, " Mr. Cashel, allow me to 
 present to your favourable notice my distinguished friend, Mr. Howie. 
 Lady Janet McFarlane, Mr. Howie, — sotto — the author of * Snooks in 
 the Holy Land,' — the mttiest thing of the day, — Sir Andrew will be 
 dehghted with him,— has been all over the scenes of the Peninsular war. 
 —Mrs. Kemiyfeck, Mr. Howie." 
 
 Mr. Howie made his round of salutations, and although by his awk- 
 wardness tacitly acknowledging that they were palpably more habituated 
 to the world's ways than himself, yet inwardly consoled by remarking 
 certain little traits of manner and accent sufficiently provincial to be 
 treasm-ed up, and become very droll in print or a copper etching. 
 
 " It's a vara new pleasure, ye are able to confer upon yoiu* friends, Mr. 
 Cashel," said Sir Andrew, " to show them so fine a collection o' pictiu-es 
 in Ireland, whar, methinks, the arts ha no enjoyed too mickle encou- 
 ragement." 
 
 "I confess," said Cashel, modestly, "1 am but ill quahfied to extend 
 the kind of patronage that woiild be servdceable, had I even the means ; 
 I have not the sHghtest pretension to loiowledge or judgment. The 
 few 1 have purchased have been as articles of furniture, pleasant to look 
 at, \rithout any pretension to high excellence." 
 
 "Just as Admiral Dalrymple paid ten pounds for a dunghill, when he 
 turned farmer," vrhispered Mr. Howie, in Mrs. White's ear, "and then 
 said, ^he had only bought it because some one said it was a good 
 thing, but that, now, he'd give any man ' twenty,' to tell him what to do 
 with it.' " 
 
 Mrs. White burst into a loud fit of laughter, exclaiming, 
 
 " Oh, how clever, how good ; pray, Mr. Howie, tell Lady Janet, — 
 tell Mr. Cashel that." 
 
 " Oh, madam !" cried the terrified tourist, who had not discovered be- 
 fore the very shallow discrimination of his gifted acquaintance. 
 
 "If it is so vara good," said Sir Andrew, "we maun insist on hearin' 
 it." 
 
 "No, no! nothing of the kind," interposed Howie ; "besides, the ob- 
 servation was only intended for Mrs. White's ear." 
 
 " Very true," said that lady, affecting a look of consciousness. 
 
 "The odious woman," whispered Miss Kennj^eck to her sister, 
 " see how delighted she looks to be compromised." 
 
 " If we had Linton," said Cashel, politely offering his arm to Lady 
 Janet, as he led her into the so called gallery, " he could explain every 
 
200? BOLAIO) CASHEL. 
 
 thing for us. We have, however, a Mad of catalogue here. This large 
 landscape is said to be by Both." 
 
 " If she be a coo," said Sir Andrew, " I maun say it's the first time I 
 ever seen ane wi' the head ower the tail." 
 
 " Nonsense," said Lady Janet, " don't ye perceive that the animal is 
 fore-shortened, and is represented looking backwards." 
 
 " I ken nothing aboot that, she may be shortened in the fore-parts, 
 an ye say, and that may be some peculiar breed, but what brings her head 
 ower her rump ?" 
 
 Sir Andrew was left to finish his criticism alone, the company moving 
 onto a portrait, assigned to Vandyk, as Diedrich von Aevenghem, Burgo- 
 master of Antwerp. 
 
 " A fine head," exclaimed Mrs. White, authoritatively, " don't you 
 think so, Mr. Howie ?" 
 
 " A very choice specimen of the great master, for which, doubtless, you 
 gave a large sum." 
 
 " Four hundred, if I remember aright," said Cashel. 
 
 *' I thenli he maught hae a clean face for that money," broke in Sir 
 Andrew. 
 
 " What do you mean. Sir ?" said Miss Kennyfeck, insidiously, and 
 delighted at the misery Lady Janet endured from his remarks. 
 
 " Don't ye mind the smut he has on ane cheek ?" 
 
 " It's the shadow of his nose, Sir Andrew," broke in Lady Janet, with 
 a sharpness of rebuke there was no misunderstanding. 
 
 " Eh, my leddy, so it may, but ye need na bite mine off, for a' that!'* 
 and so saying, the discomfited veteran feU back in high dudgeon. 
 
 The party now broke into the two and threes invariable on such oc- 
 casions, and while Mrs. Kennyfeck and her elder daughter paid their 
 most devoted attentions to Lady Janet, Mrs. White and the author 
 paired off, leaving Olivia Kennyfeck to the guidance of Cashel. 
 
 " So you'll positively not tell me what it is that preys on your mind 
 this morning ?" said she, in the most insinuating of soft accents. 
 
 Cashel shook his head mournfully, and said, 
 
 " Why should I tell you of what it is impossible you could give me 
 any counsel in, while your sympathy would only cause uneasiness to 
 yourself ?" 
 
 " But you forget our compact," said she, archly, " there was to be 
 perfect confidence on both sides, was there not ?" 
 
 " Certainly. Now, when shall we begin?" 
 
 " Have you not begun already V 
 
 ** I fancy not. Do you remember two evenings ago, when I came sud- 
 
The Ficnire (Tallery Sjr Aridrow puzzled 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 203 
 
 denly into the drawing-room and found you pencil in hand, and you, 
 instead of at once showing me what you had been sketching, shut the 
 portfolio and carried it off, despite all my entreaties, — nay, all my just 
 demands." 
 
 " Oh, but," said she, smiling, " confidence is one thing — confession 
 is another." 
 
 " Too subtle distinctions for me," cried Cashel. " I foolishly supposed 
 that there was to be an unreserved — " 
 
 " Speak lower, for mercy sake, — don't you perceive Lady Janet trying 
 to hear every thing you say?" This was said in a soft whisper, while she 
 added aloud, " I think you said it was a Correggio, Mr. Cashel," as 
 they stood before a very lightly clad Magdalen, who seemed endeavouring 
 to make up for the deficiency of her costume, by draping across her 
 bosom the voluptuous masses of her golden hair. 
 
 " I think, a Correggio," said Cashel, confused at the sudden artifice, 
 " but who has the catalogue ? Oh, Sir Andrew, tell us about number 
 fifty-eight." 
 
 " Fefty-eight, fefty-eight," mumbled Sir Andrew, a number of times 
 to himself, and then having found the number, he approached the picture 
 and surveyed it attentively. 
 
 " Well, Sir, what is it called?" said Olivia. 
 
 " It's vara singular," said Sir Andrew, still gazing at the canvass, *' but 
 doubtless Correggio knew weel what he was aboot. This," said he, " is 
 a pictm'e of Sain John the Baaptist in a raiment of caamel's hair." 
 
 No sense of propriety was proof against this announcement, a laugh, 
 loud and general, burst forth, during which, Lady Janet, snatching the 
 book indignantly from his hands, cried, 
 
 " You were looldng at sixty-eight. Sir Andrew, not fifty-eight, and you 
 have made yourself perfectly ridiculous." 
 
 " By my saul, I believe so," muttered the old gentleman in deep 
 anger. " I've been looking at ' saxty-eight*^ ower long already !" 
 
 Fortunately, this sarcasm was not heard by her against whom it was 
 directed, and they who did hear it were fain to repress their laughter as 
 well as they were able. The party was now increased by the arrival of 
 the Dean and his " ancient" Mr. Softly, to the manifest dehght of Mrs. 
 Kennyfeck, who at once exclaimed, 
 
 " Ah, we shall, now, hear something really instructive." 
 
 The erudite churchman, after a very abrupt notice of the company, 
 started at speed without losing a moment. 
 
 His attention being caught by some curious tableaux of the Interior 
 of the great Pyramid, he immediately commenced an explanation of the 
 various figures, — the costumes and weapons, which he said were all 
 
204 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 masonic, showing that Pharaoh wore an apron exactly Hke the Duke of 
 Sussex, and that every emhlem of the *' arch" vras to be found among the 
 great of Ancient Egypt. 
 
 While thus employed, Mr. Howie, seated in a comer, was busily 
 sketching the whole party, for an illustration to liis new book on Ireland, 
 and once more Cashel and his companion found themselves, of com'se by 
 the merest accident, standing opposite the same picture in a httle bou- 
 doir off the large gallery. The subject was a scene from Faust, where 
 Marguerite leaning on her lover's arm, is walking in a garden by moon- 
 light, and seeking by a mode of divination common in Germany to 
 ascertain his truth, which is by plucking one by one the petals of a 
 flower, saying alternately, — " He loves me, he loves me not ;" and then, 
 by the result of the last plucked leaf, deciding which fate is accomphshed. 
 Cashel first explained the meaning of the trial, and then taking a rose 
 from one of the flower vases, he said, 
 
 " Let me see if you can understand my teaching ; you have only to 
 say * Er Liebt mich, and, Er Liebt mich nicht.' " 
 
 " But how can I ?" said she, with a look of beaming innocence, " if 
 there be none who — " 
 
 " No matter," said Cashel, " besides, is it not possible you could be 
 loved, and yet never know it ? Now for the ordeal." 
 
 " Er Liebt mich nicht," said Oh^ia, with a low, silvery voice, as she 
 plucked the first petal ofi^, and threw it on the floor. 
 
 "You begin in auspiciously, and, I must say, unfairly, too," said 
 Cashel. " The first augury is in favour of love." 
 
 " Er Liebt mich," said she, tremulously, and the leaf broke in her 
 fingers. " Ha !" sighed she, " what does that imply ? Is it, that he 
 only loves by half his heart ?" 
 
 " That cannot be," said Cashel, " it is rather that you treated, his 
 affection harshly." 
 
 " Should it not bear a little ? — ought it to give way at once ?" 
 "Nor will it?" said he, more earnestly, "if you deal but fairly. 
 Come, I will teach you a still more simple, and yet unerring test." 
 
 A heavy sigh, from behind the Chinese skreen, made both the speakers 
 start ; and while OUvia, pale with terror, sank into a chair, Cashel 
 hastened to see what had caused the alarm. 
 
 " Linton, upon my life !" exclaimed he, in a low whisper, as, on tip- 
 toe, he returned to his place beside her. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Cashel ; oh dear, Mr. Cashel—" 
 " Dearest OUvia — " 
 
 " Heigho !" broke in Linton, and Roland and his companion slipped 
 noiselessly from the room, and, unperceived, mixed with the general 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 205 
 
 company, who sat in wrapt attention, while the Dean explained that 
 Painting was nothing more or less than an optical delusion, a theory 
 which seemed to dehght Mrs. Kennyfeck in the same proportion that it 
 puzzled her. Fortunately, the announcement that luncheon was on the 
 table cut short the dissertation, and the party descended, all more or less 
 content to make material enjoyments succeed to intellectual ones. 
 
 " Well" — whispered Miss Kennjrfeckto her sister, as they descended the 
 stairs, " did he ?" 
 
 An almost inaudible " No" was the reply. 
 
 " Yom' eyes are very red for nothing, my dear," rejoined the 
 elder. 
 
 " I dinna ken. Sir," said Sir Andrew to Softly, as he made use of 
 his arm for support, " I dinna ken how ye understand your theory aboot 
 optical delusions, but I maun say, it seems to me a vara strange way for 
 men o' your cloth to pass the momin,' starin' at naked weemen — creatures, 
 too, that if they ever leeved at all, must ha' led the maist abondoned 
 lives. I take it, that Diana herself was ne better than a cuttie ; do ye 
 mark hoc she does no scruple to show a bra pair of legs — " 
 
 " With respect to the Heathen Mythology," broke in Softly, in a 
 voice he hoped might subdue the discussion. 
 
 " Don't tell me aboot Haythins, Sir ; flesh and bluid is a' the same, 
 whatever Kirk it follows." 
 
 Before they were seated at table, Linton had joined them, explaining, 
 in the most natural way in the world, that, having sat down to write 
 in the boudoir, he had fallen fast asleep, and was only awakened by 
 Mr. Phillis ha-ving accidentally discovered him. A look of quick intelligence 
 passed between Cashel and Olivia at this narrative ; the young lady soon 
 appeared to have recovered from her former embarrassment, and the 
 luncheon proceeded pleasantly to all parties. Mr. Howie enjoyed liim- 
 self to the utmost, not only by the reflection that a hearty luncheon at 
 two would save a hotel dinner at six, but that the Dean and Sir Andrew 
 were two originals, worth five pound a-piece even for " Punch." As to 
 Cashel, a glance at the author's note-book would show how he impressed 
 that gifted personage: '• 'R. C. :' — a snob — rich— and gullable ; his 
 pictures, all the household gods at Christie's, the Van Dyk, late a sign 
 of the Marquis of Granby, at Windsor. Mem. : not over safe to quiz 
 him." "But we'll see later on :" *' visit him at his coimtry-seat, *if 
 poss.' " 
 
 " Who is our spectacled friend ?" said Linton, as they drove away 
 from the door ?" 
 
 " Some distinguished author, whose name I have forgotten." 
 
206 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 "Shrewd looking fellow, — think I've seen him at Ascot. What 
 brings him over here ?" 
 
 " To write a book, I fancy." 
 
 *' What a bore ! This is the age of detectives, with a vengeance. 
 Well, don't let him in again, that's all. By Jove, it's easier, now-a-days, 
 to escape the Queen's Bench than the ' Illustrated News.' " 
 
 " A note from Mr. Kennyfeck, Sir," said Mr. Phillis, " and the man 
 waits for an answer." 
 
 Linton, taking up a book, affected to read, but in reality placed him- 
 self so as to watch Cashel's features as he perused the letter, whose size 
 and shape pronounced to be something unusual. Hurriedly mum- 
 bhng over a rather tedious exordium on the various views the writer 
 had taken of a subject, Cashel's eyes suddenly flashed as he drew forth 
 a small printed paragraph, cut from the column of a newspaper, and 
 which went thus. " It will be, doubtless, in our reader's recollection how 
 s. short time back an armed slaver, saihng under the flag of Columbia, 
 was taken, after a most severe and sanguinary engagement by H. M. 
 brig Hornet. The commander, a young Spaniard of singularly hand- 
 some exterior, and with all the bearing and appearance of a rank very 
 different from his mode of life, was carried off and confined in St. Kitt's, 
 till such time as he could be brought to trial. Representations from the 
 government of the repubhc were, however, made, and a claim preferred 
 for indemnity, not only for the loss of the vessel and property, but for 
 the loss of Hfe and other injury incurred on the capture. While this 
 fiingular demand was under investigation, the young Spaniard alluded to, 
 contrived to break his bonds, and escape : the only mode of doing which 
 was by a leap into the sea from the parapet of the fortress, a height, we 
 are informed, of nigh one hundred feet. They who are acquainted with 
 the locahty assert, that if he even survived the desperate leap, he must 
 inevitably have fallen a victim to the sharks who frequent the bay to catch 
 the bodies of all who die in the prison, and who, it would appear, are thus 
 unceremoniously disposed of. This supposition would seem, however, in 
 some respect contradicted by the circxmistance, that a Venezuelan 
 cruiser, wliich hung about the shore for the two preceding days, sailed 
 on the very night of ids escape, and, in all probabihty, with him on 
 board." 
 
 " I could swear he is safe !" cried Cashel, in an ecstacy of enthusiasm ; 
 " he's a glorious fellow." 
 
 " Who is that ?" said Linton, looking up, "any one I know ?" 
 
 " No, indeed !" said Cashel. Then suddenly checking himself in a 
 speech whose opening accents were far from flattering, he added, " One 
 you never even heard of." 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 207 
 
 He once more addressed himself to the letter, which, however, merely 
 contained some not very brilliant commentaries of Mr. Kennyfeck over 
 the preceding extract, and which, after enimierating a great many modes 
 of investigating the event, concluded with the only thing like common 
 sense in the whole, by recommending a strict silence and secrecy about 
 it all. 
 
 Cashel was closing the epistle, when he caught on the turn-down the 
 following Hnes : — 
 
 " Mr. Linton has written to me about something like a legal transfer 
 of the cottage and lands of Tubber-beg, which he mentions your having 
 presented to him. What reply am I to return to this ? I stated, that 
 you had already assured Mr. Corrigan, the present tenant, of an undis- 
 turbed possession of the tenure, but Mr. L. interrupted my explanation 
 by saying, that he only desired an assignment of the property, such as 
 would give a ParHamentary quaHfi cation, and that all pledges made to 
 Mr. C. he would regard as equally binding on himself." 
 
 CasheFs first impulse, when he had read thus far, was to show Linton 
 the paragraph, and frankly ask liim what he wished to be done ; indeed, 
 he had already advanced towards him mth that object, when he checked 
 himself. "It might seem ungracious to ask any explanation. There had 
 been already a moment of awkwardness about that same cottage, and 
 Linton had behaved so well ; and, of course, only asking him for the 
 possession, as a means of quaHfying, Corrigan need never hear of it ; be- 
 sides he could make Linton a present of much greater real value as soon 
 as the circumstances of the estate became better known." Such and such 
 like reasonings passed hastily through his brain, and as all his resolves 
 were quickly formed, and as quickly acted on, he sat down, and wrote : — 
 
 " Dear Mr. Kennyfeck, 
 " Many thanks for the information of your note, which has served to 
 allay all my anxiety for a valued friend. As to Linton, you will have 
 the goodness to satisfy him in every particular, and make all and every 
 legal title he desires to the cottage and grounds of Tubber-beg. Al- 
 though he is now at my side, while I write, I have not aUuded to the 
 subject, feeling the awkwardness of touching on a theme so dehcate. 
 Say, however, for me, that Corrigan is not to be disturbed, nor any 
 pledge I have made towards him, — no matter how liberally construed by 
 him, — to be, in any respect, infringed. 
 
 " Yours, in great haste, 
 "R. C." 
 
 " Why you are quite a man of business to-day, Cashel, with your cor- 
 
208 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 respondence and letter- writing ; and I'm sorry for it, for I wanted to 
 have a bit of serious talk with you ; that is, if it do not bore you." 
 
 " Not in the least ; I was, I own it, nervous and imeasy this morning' ; 
 now, however, my mind is at ease, and I am quite ready for any 
 thing." 
 
 '* Well, then, without preamble, are you still of the same nimd about 
 ParHament, because the time is hastening on when you ought to come to 
 some decision on the matter ?" 
 
 " I have never bestowed a thought on the matter, since," said Cashel ; 
 " the truth is, when I hear people talk pohtics in society, I am only 
 astonished at their seeming bigotry and one-sidedness, and when I read 
 newspapers of opposite opinions, J am equally confounded at the excellent 
 arguments they display for diametrically contradictory lines of action, so 
 that my political education makes but little progress." 
 
 "What you say is perfectly just," said Linton, appearing to reflect 
 profoundly ; " a man of real independence — not the mere independence 
 of fortune, but the far higher independence of personal character — has 
 much to endure in our tangled and complex system of legislation. As 
 for yourself, for instance, who can afford to despise patronage, who 
 have neither sons to advance in the Navy, or nephews in the Foreign 
 Office, who neither want the Bath or a Baronetcy, who would be as sick 
 of the flatteries, as you would be disgusted with the servility of party, — 
 why you should submit to the dust, and heat, the turmoil, and fatigue of 
 a session, I can't think. And how you would be bored, — bored by the 
 ceaseless reiterations night after night, the same arguments growing gra- 
 dually weaker as the echo grew fainter ; bored by the bits of ' Horace* 
 got off by heart to wind up with ; bored by the bad jests of witty 
 members! bored by Peel's candour, and Palmerston's petulance; by 
 Cobden's unblushing effrontery, and Hume's tiresome placitude. You'd 
 never know a happy day or a joyous hour, till you accepted the 
 Chntern Hundreds, and cut them all. No ; the better course for you 
 would be, choose a nominee for your borough, select a man in whom you 
 have confidence. Think of some one over whom yoiu* influence would be 
 complete, who would have no other aim than in follo.wing out your sug- 
 gestions ; some one, in fact, who unites sufficient ability with personal 
 friendship. What d'ye think of Kennyfeck V 
 
 " Poor Kennyfeck," said Cashel, laughing, ** he'd never think of such 
 a thing." 
 
 " I don't know," said Linton, musing ; " it might not suit him, but 
 his wife would like it prodigiously." 
 
 " Shall I propose it, then ?" said Cashel. 
 
 " Better not, perhaps," said Linton, appearing to reflect, " his income, 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 209 
 
 which is a right good one, is professional. This, of course, he'd forfeit by 
 accepting a seat in the House. Besides, really, the poor man would 
 make no way. No, we must think of some one else. Do you like 
 White ?" 
 
 *' Leicester White ? I detest the man, and the Avife, too." 
 
 " Well, there's Frobisher, a fellow of good name and family. I'd not 
 go bail for his preferring your interests to his oa^ti, but as times go, you 
 might chance upon worse. Will you have Frobisher ?" 
 
 "I have no objection," said Cashel, carelessly, '"would he like it 
 himself ?" 
 
 "Would he Hke any thing that might help him to a step in the 
 regiment, or place him in a position to sell himself, you, and the borough 
 constituency to the highest bidder ?" said Linton, irritated at Cashel's 
 half assent. 
 
 " Well, if these be his principles," cried Cashel, laughing, " I think 
 we'd better put liim aside." 
 
 " Your're right, he'd never do," said Linton, recovering all his self- 
 possession ; " what you want, is a man sufficiently unconnected with 
 ties of family or party, to see in you his patron and his object, and who, 
 ■with cleverness enough to enunciate the views you desbe to see prevail, 
 has also the strong bond of personal regard to make him always even more 
 the friend than the follower." 
 
 " I only know of one man who reahses all this combination," said 
 Cashel, smihng, " and he wouldn't answer." 
 
 " Who is he, — and why ?" asked Lmton, in vain endeavouiing to 
 look easy and miconcemed. 
 
 " Tom Linton is the man, and his invincible laziness the ' why.' — Isn't 
 that true ?" 
 
 " By George, Cashel, if you're content with the first part of the asser- 
 tion, I'll pledge myself to remedy the latter. I own, frankly, it is a career 
 for which I have no predilection ; if I had, I should have been ' in' many 
 years ago. I have all my life held very cheap your great Pohtical leaders, 
 both as regards capacity and character, and I have ever fancied that I 
 should have had some success in the Hsts ; but I have always loved ease, 
 and that best of ease, independence. If you think, however, that I can 
 worthily represent you in Parliament, and that you could safely trust to my 
 discretion the knotty question of Pohtical war, say the word, my boy, and 
 I'll fling my ' far niente' habits to the wind, and you shall have all the 
 merit of developing the promising member for — what's the name 
 of it ?" 
 
 " Derraheeny." 
 
210 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Exactly, — the honourable and learned- — for Derraheeny. I rather 
 like the title." 
 
 " Well, Linton, if you are reaUy serious — " 
 
 *' Most assuredly, serious j and more, to prove it, I shall ask you to 
 clench our bargain at once. It is not enough that you make me 
 your nominee, but you must also render me eligible to become so." 
 
 " I don't clearly comprehend — " 
 
 *' I'll enlighten you. Our venerable constitution, perfectly irre- 
 spective of the Tom Lintons of this world, — a race which, by the way, 
 never dies out, probably because they have avoided intermarriage, — has 
 decided that a man must possess something besides liis wits to be quaHfied 
 as ' Member of ParHament ;' a strange law, because the aforesaid wits are 
 all that the Honourable House has any reason to lay claim to. This same 
 something which guarantees that a man has legislative capacity, amounts 
 to some hundreds a year. Don't be impatient, and come out with any 
 piece of rash generosity; I don't want you to make a present_]of an estate- 
 only to lend me one ! To be qualified, either as a candidate for the House 
 or a Gentleman rider, one only needs a friend, — a weU-to-do friend,-^ 
 who'll say, ' He's all right.' " 
 
 " I'm quite ready to vouch for you, Tom ; but you'll have to take the 
 affair into your own management." 
 
 " Oh, it's easy enough. That same cottage and the farm which we 
 spoke of the other day, Kennyfeck can make out a kind of conveyance, or 
 whatever the instrument is called, by which it acknowledges me for its 
 owner, vice Roland Cashel, Esquire. This properly sealed, signed, and 
 so on, will defy the most searching Committee that ever pried into any 
 gentleman's private circumstances." 
 
 " Then explain it aU to Kennyfeck, and say, that I wish it done at 
 once." 
 
 " Nay, Cashel, pardon me. My ugliest enemy will not caU me punc- 
 tilious, but I must stand upon a bit of ceremony here. This must be 
 ordered by yourself ; you are doing a gracious thing, — a devilish kind 
 thing, — it must not be done by halves. Were I to communicate this 
 to Kennyfeck, he'd unquestionably obey the direction, but most certainly 
 he'd say, to the first man he met, * See how Linton has managed to trick 
 Cashel out of a very considerable shce of landed property.' He'd not 
 take much trouble to state the nature of our compact ; he'd rather blink 
 the whole arrangement altogether, and make the thing seem a direct 
 gift. Now, I have too much pride on your account, and my own too, to 
 stand this — " 
 
 " Well, well, it shall be as you like ; only I trow I disagree with you 
 about old Kennyfeck, — he's a fine straight-hearted feUow, — he's — " 
 
BOLAND CASHEL. 211 
 
 " He's ail attorney, Cashel. These fellows can no more comprehend a 
 transfer of property without a trial at bar, or a suit in equity, than an 
 Irish second can understand a falling out, without one of the parties be- 
 ing brought home on a door. Besides, he has rather a grudge against 
 me, — I never told you. Indeed, I never meant to tell you, but I can 
 have no secrets from you. You know the youngest girl, 01i\ia ?" 
 
 " Yes, go on," said Cashel, red and pale by turns. 
 
 " Well. I flirted a good deal last winter with' her. Upon my life, 
 I did not intend it to have gone so far — I suppose it must have gone far 
 though, because she became desperately in love. She is very pretty, 
 certainly, and a really good Httle girl, — mais, que voulez vous ? If I tie 
 a fly on my hook I can't afibrd to see a flounder or a perch walk off with 
 it ; its the speckled monster of the stream 1 fish for ! They ought to 
 have known that themselves, — I've no doubt they did, too; but they 
 were determined ,as they say here, to die ' innocent,* and so one fine morn- 
 ing, I was just going to join the hounds at Finglas, when old Kennyfeck, 
 very trimly dressed, and looking unutterable importance, entered my 
 lodgings. There's a formula for these kind of explanations, — I've gone 
 through seven of these myself, and I'll swear that every papa has opened 
 the conference with a solemn appeal to Heaven, * that he never was aware 
 of the attentions shown his daughter, nor the state of his dear child's 
 affection tiU last evenmg.' They always assure you, besides, that if they 
 could give a million and a-half as dowry, that you are the very man — 
 the actual one individual — they would have selected, so that on an 
 average most young ladies have met with at least half-a-dozen parties, 
 whom the father have pronounced to be separately, the one most valued. 
 Kennyfeck behaved, I must say admirably. His wife would have a 
 Galway cousin sent for, and a duel; some other kind friend suggested 
 to have me waylaid and thrashed. He calmly heard me for about ten 
 minutes, and then taking up his hat and gloves, said, ' take your rule,' 
 and so it ended. 
 
 " I dined there the next Sunday; yes, that's part of my system. I 
 never permit people to nourish smaU grudges, and go about abusing me 
 to my acquaintances. If they ivill do that, I overwhelm them by their 
 duplicity, as I am seen constantly in their intimacy, and remarkable for 
 always speaking well of them, so that the world will certainly give it 
 against them. The gist of all this tu-esome story is, that Kenny- 
 feck and the ladies would, if occasion served, pay off the old debt 
 to me ; — therefore, beware if you hear me canvassed in that quar- 
 ter !" 
 
 Linton, hke many other cunning people, very often lapsed into little 
 confessions of the tactics by which he played his game in the world, and 
 
 p 2 
 
212 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 although Cashel was not by any means a dangerous confidant to such 
 disclosures, he now marked with feelings not all akui to satisfaction tliis 
 acknowledgment of his friend's skUl. 
 
 " You'd never have sho^vn your face there again, I'll wager a him- 
 dred!" said Linton, reading in the black look of Roland's coimtenance, 
 an expression he did not fancy. 
 
 " You are right. I should have deemed it unfair to impose on the 
 young lady, a part so full of awkwardness as erery meeting must 
 necessitate." 
 
 " That comes of your innocence about women, my dear friend. They 
 liave face for any thing. It is not hypocrisy, it is not that they do not 
 feel, and feel deeply, but their sense of command, their instinct of what is 
 becoming, is a thousand times finer than ours, and I am certain, that 
 when we take aU manner of care, to, 'what is called, spare their feelings, 
 we are in reality only sparing them a cherished opportunity of exercising 
 a control over those feelings which we fooHshly suppose to be as imgovem- 
 able as our own." 
 
 Either not agreeing with the sentiment, or unable to cope with its 
 subtlety, Cashel sat some time without speaking. From OHvia Kenny- 
 feck his thoughts reverted to one, in every respect unlike her,— the dar- 
 ing, impetuous Maritana. He wondered within himself whether /ter 
 bold impassioned nature could be comprehended within Linton's category, 
 and a secret sense of rejoicing thrilled through him as he repHed to him- 
 self in the negative. 
 
 " I'd wager a trifle, Roland, from that easy smile you wear, that your 
 memory has called up one example at least, unfavourable to my theory. 
 Eh ! I've guessed aright, — come, then, — out with it, man, who is this 
 peerless paragon of pure ingenuous truth. Who is she whose nature is 
 the transparent crystal, where fair thoughts are enshrined? No deni- 
 zen of our misty northland, I'll be sworn, but some fair Mexican, with as 
 little disguise as drapery. Confess, I say, — there is a confession I'll be 
 sworn, and so make a clean breast of it." 
 
 It struck Cashel, while Linton was speaking, how effectually Mari- 
 tana herself, — by one proud look, one haughty gesture, would have 
 silenced such flippant raillery, and he could not help feeling it a kind of 
 treason to their old friendship, that he should listen to it in patient 
 endurance. 
 
 *' Listen to me, Amigo mio," said he, in a tone of earnest passion, 
 that seemed almost estranged from his nature latterly, " listen to me ; 
 while I tell you that in those far-away countries, whose people you re- 
 gard with such contemptuous pity, there are women, — aye, young 
 girls, whose daring spirit would shame the courage of many of those 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 213 
 
 fine gentlemen we spend our lives with ; — and I, for one, have so much of 
 the Indian in me, as to think that courage is the first of virtues." 
 
 " I cannot help fancying," said Linton, with an almost imperceptible 
 raillery, " that there are other qualities would please me as well in a wife 
 or a mistress." 
 
 " I have no doubt of it, — and suit you better, too," said Cashel, 
 savagely ; then hastily correcting himself for his rude speech, he 
 added, " I believe in good earnest, that you would as little sympathise 
 with that land and its people, as I do ^^ith this. — Aye, if you want a 
 confession, there's one for you* I'm longing to be back once more 
 among the vast prairies of the west, galloping free after the dark- 
 backed bisons, and strolling along in the silent forests. The enerva- 
 tion of this Life wearies and depresses me, — worse than all, I feel that 
 with a little more of it, I shall lose all energy and zest for that actiA^ty 
 of body, which, to men like myself, supplies the place of thought, — 
 a little more of it! and I shall sink into that languid routine where 
 dissipation supplies the only excitement." 
 
 " This is a mere passing caprice ; a man who has wealth — " 
 
 "There it is," cried Cashel, interrupting him impetuously, "that 
 is the eternal burthen of your song. As if wealth, in forestalling 
 the necessity for Labour, did not at the same time, deprive Life of 
 all the zeal of enterprise. When I have stepped into my boat to board 
 a Chilian frigate, I have had a prouder throbbing at my heart, than 
 ever the sight of that Banker's cheque-book has given me. There's 
 many a Gambusino in the rocky mountains, a happier, — aye, and a 
 finer fellow, too, than the gayest of those gallants, that ever squandered 
 the gold, he quarried ! But why go on, — we are speaking in unknown 
 tongues to each other." 
 
 The tone of irritation into which, as it seems unconsciously, Cashel 
 had fallen, was not lost on the keen perception of Linton, and he was 
 not sorry to feign a pretext for closing an interview whose continuance 
 might be unpleasant. 
 
 " I was thinking of a hurried trip down to Tubber-more," said he, 
 rising, " we shall have these guests of yours in open rebellion, if we 
 don't affect at least something like preparation for their reception. I'll 
 take Perystell along with me, and we'll see what can be done to get the 
 old house in trim." 
 
 " Thanks," said Cashel, as he walked up and down, his thoughts 
 seeming engaged on some other theme. 
 
 " I'll write to you a report of the actual condition of the fortress," 
 said Linton, assuming all his habitual easy freedom of manner, *•' and 
 then, if you think of any thing to suggest, you'll let me hear." 
 
214 EOLANi> CASHEL. 
 
 "Yes, I'll write," said Cashel, still musing on his own thoughts. 
 
 "I see pretty plainly," cried Linton, laughing, " there is no earthly 
 use in asking you questions just now, your brain being otherwise occu- 
 pied, and so, good-bye." 
 
 " Good bye — good bye," said Cashel, endeavouring, but not with 
 a very good grace, to shake off his pre-occupation, while he shook 
 hands with him, and Linton descended the stairs, humming an opera 
 air, with 'all the seeming light-heartedness of a very careless nature. 
 
 Cashel, meanwhile, sat down, and, with his head resting on his hand, 
 pondered over their late interview. There were two circumstances which 
 both puzzled and distressed him. How came it, that Linton should 
 have written this note to Kennyfeck on a subject which only seemed to 
 have actually suggested itself in the course of this, their very last conver- 
 sation. Had he already planned the whole campaign respecting the seat in 
 Parliament and the qualification, and was his apparently chance allusion 
 to these topics a thing studied and devised beforehand. This, if true, 
 would argue very ill for his friend's candour and fair dealing ; and 
 yet, how explain it otherwise ? Was there any other seat open to him, 
 for which to need a qualification ? if so, he had never spoken of it. It 
 was the first time in his life that Cashel had conceived a suspicion of one 
 whom he had regarded in the light of friend, and only they who have 
 undergone a similar trial can understand the poignant suffering of the 
 feeling ; and yet, palpable as the cause for such a doubt was, he had 
 never entertained^it, had not Linton spoken disparagingly of the Kenny- 
 fecks ! This is a curious trait of human nature, but one worth considera- 
 tion, and while leaving it to the elucidation the penetration of each 
 reader may suggest, we only reiterate the fact, that while Cashel could, 
 without an effort, have forgiven the duplicity practised on himself, the 
 levity Linton employed respecting Olivia, engendered doubts of his 
 honour, too grave to be easily combatted. 
 
 As for Linton, scarcely had he quitted Cashel, than he hastened to 
 Gallon Kennyfeck ; he had written the note, already alluded to, to leave, 
 at the house, should the solicitor be from home ; but having left it, by 
 accident, on his writing-table, his servant, discovering it to be sealed 
 and addressed, had, without further question, left it at Kennyfeck's 
 house. As Linton went along, he searched his pockets for the epistle, 
 but consoled himself by remembering how he had left it at home. 
 
 A few moments later found him at Kennyfeck's door. The attorney 
 was at home, and, without any announcement, Linton entered the study 
 where he sat. 
 
 " I was this instant writing to you, Sir," said Kennyfeck, rising, and 
 
UOLAND CASHEL. 215 
 
 placing a seat for him ; *' Mr. Cashel, on being informed of the wish 
 expressed in your note — " ^ 
 
 " Of what note ?" said Linton, in a voice of, for him, very unusual 
 agitation. 
 
 " This note — here, Sir — dated — no, by-the-bye, it is not dated, but 
 brought by your servant two hours ago." 
 
 Linton took the paper, glanced his eye over it, and then, in mingled 
 chagrin and forgetfulness, tore it, and threw the fragments into the 
 fire. 
 
 "There is some mistake about this," said he slowly, and giving him- 
 self time to consider what turn he should lend it. 
 
 " This is Mr. CashePs reply, Sir," said Kennyfeck, after pausing some 
 moments, but in vain, for the explanation. 
 
 Linton eagerly caught the letter, and read it through, and whatever 
 scruples or fear, he might have conceived from any other man's, it seemed 
 as if he had little dread of Cashel's penetration, for his assured and 
 easy smile at once showed that he had regained his wonted tran- 
 quillity. 
 
 " You will then take the necessary steps, without delay, Kennyfeck," 
 said he. " The Elections cannot be very distant, and it is better be 
 prepared." As he spoke, he threw the letter back upon the table, but in 
 a moment afterwards, while taking off his gloves, managed to seize it and 
 convey it to his pocket. " You know far better than I do, Kennyfeck," 
 resumed he, '^how sharp the lawyers can be in picking out any flaw 
 respecting title and so forth ; for this reason, be careful that this docu- 
 ment shall be as regular and binding as need be." 
 
 " It shall be submitted for counsel's opinion, this evening, Sir — " 
 
 " Not to Jones, then; I don't fancy that gentleman, although I know 
 he has some of your confidence ; send it to Hammond." 
 
 " As you please. Sir." 
 
 " Another point. You'll not insert any clause respecting the tenant 
 in possession; it would only be hampering us with another defence against 
 some legal subtlety or other." 
 
 *• Mr. Cashel does not desire this, Sir." 
 
 " Of course not, — you understand what the whole thing means. 
 Well, I must say, good-bye ; you'll have all ready by the time I return 
 to town. My respects to the drawing-room. — Adieu." 
 
 " That was a bad blunder about the note," muttered Linton, as he 
 walked along towards home, " and might have lost the game, if the au 
 tagonist had any skill whatever." 
 
216 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 " Let's see the field, and mark it •well, 
 For, here, will be the battle." 
 
 *' Ottocak." 
 
 " Does this path lead to the house, fi-iend ?" said a gentleman, whose 
 dress bespoke recent travel, to the hiaggard, discontented figure of a man, 
 who, seated on a stone beside a low and broken wicket, w^as lazily filling 
 his pipe, and occasionally throwing stealthy glances at the stranger. A 
 short nod of the head was the reply. " You belong to the place, I 
 suppose ?" 
 
 " Maybe, I do ; and when then ?" 
 
 *' Simply that, as I am desirous of going thither, I should be glad of 
 your showing me the way." 
 
 " Troth, an' there's little to see when you get there," rejoined the 
 other, sarcastically. " What are you by trade, if it's not displeasin' 
 to ye ?" 
 
 " That's the very question I was about to ask you," said Linton, for it 
 was himself ; " you appear to have a veiy easy mode of life, whatever it 
 be, since you are so indifferent about earning half-a-crown." 
 
 Tom Keane arose from his seat, and made an awkward attempt at 
 salutmg, as he said, 
 
 *' 'Tis the dusk o' the evening prevented me seeing yer honer, or 1 
 wouldn't be so bowld. This is the way to the Hall, sure enough." 
 
 " This place has been greatly neglected of late," said Linton,^ as they 
 walked along side by side, and endeavouring, by a tone of familiarity, 
 to set his companion at ease. 
 
 " Troth, it is neglected, and always was as long as I remember. I 
 was reared in it, and I never knew it other ; thistles and docks as big 
 ^s your leg, everywhere, and the grass choaked up witli moss." 
 
 " How came it to be so completely left to ruin ?" 
 
 *' A nan !" muttered he, as if not well comprehending the question, 
 but, in reality, a mere device employed to give him more time to scan 
 the stranger, and guess at his probable object. 
 
 " I was asking," said Linton, " how it happened that a fine old place 
 like this was suffered to go to wreck and ruin." 
 
 *' Faix, it's ould enough, any how," said the other, with a coarse 
 laugh. 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 2l7 
 
 " And large, too." 
 
 " Yer Honer was here afore," said Tom, stealthily glancing at him 
 under his brows, " I'm thinking I remember yer Honer's faytiires. You 
 wouldn't be the gentleman that came dowTi with Mr. Duffy ?" 
 
 " No ; this is my first visit to these parts ; now, where does this httle 
 road lead ? It seems to be better cared for, than the rest, and the gate, 
 too, is neatly kept.'' 
 
 " That goes down to the cottage, sir, — Tubber-beg, as they call it. 
 Yer Honer isn't Mr. Cashel himself .^" said Tom, reverentially taking off 
 his tattered hat, and attempting an air of courtesy, which sat marvel- 
 lously ill upon him. 
 
 " I have not that good luck, my friend." 
 
 " 'Tis good luck ye may call it," sighed Tom, — " a good luck that 
 doesn't fall to many ; but, may be, ye don't want it ; maybe, yer 
 Honer " 
 
 " And who Hves in the cottage of Tubber-beg ?'' said Linton, inter- 
 rupting. 
 
 " One Corrigan, Sir ; an ould man and his granddaughter." 
 
 " Good kind of people, are they ?" 
 
 " Ayeh ! there's worse, and there's betther ! They're as proud as Lucifer, 
 and poor as Naygurs." 
 
 " And this is the HaU itself ?" exclaimed Linton, as he stopped 
 directly in front of the old dilapidated building, whose deformities were 
 only exaggerated by the patchy effect of a faint moonhght. 
 
 " Aye, there it is," grinned Tom, " and no beauty either ; and ugly 
 as it looks without, it's worse Avithin ! There's cracks in the walls ye 
 could put your hand through, and the windows is rotten, where they 
 Stand." 
 
 "It is not very tempting, certainly, as a residence," said Linton, 
 smiling. 
 
 " Ah, but if ye heerd the cats, the way they do be racin' and hunt- 
 ing each other at night, and the wind bellowsin' down the chimbleys, 
 such screechin' and yelling as it keeps, and then, the slates ratthng, 'tell 
 yid think the ould roof was comin' off altogether. Be my soul, there's 
 many a man wouldn't take the property, and sleep a night in that 
 house." 
 
 " One would do a gi*eat deal, notwithstanding, for a fine estate Hke 
 this," said Linton, di'ily. 
 
 " There was something, either in the words, or the accent, that 
 touched Tom Keane's s^onpathy for the speaker ; some strange sus- 
 picion, perhaps, that he was one, whose fortune, like his own, was not 
 beyond the casualties and chances of life, and it was with a species of 
 
218 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 coarse friendship, that he said, " Ah, if we had it between us, we'd 
 do well." 
 
 " Right well, — no need to ask for better," said Linton, with a hearti- 
 ness of assent that made the other perfectly at ease ; " I'm curious to 
 have a look at the inside of the place, I suppose there is no hindrance." 
 
 " None in life ! I hve below, and, faix, there's no living anywhere 
 else, for most of the stairs is burned, and, as I towld ye, the rats has 
 up-stairs all to themselves. Nancy, give us a light," cried he, passing 
 into the dark and spacious hall, " I'm going to show a gentleman the 
 curiosities. I ax your honer's pardon, the place isn't so clean as it 
 might be." 
 
 Linton gave one peep into the long and gloomy chamber, where the 
 whole family were huddled together in all the wretchedness and disorder 
 of a cabin, and at once drew back. 
 
 " The cows is on the other side," said the man, " and, beyond, there's 
 four rooms was never plaistered ; and there, where you see the straw, 
 that's the billiard -room, and inside of it again there's a place for play 
 actin' and, more by token, there's a quare thing there." 
 
 " What's that ?" asked Linton, whose curiosity was excited by the 
 remark. 
 
 " Come, and I'll show yer honer." 
 
 So saying, he led on through a narrow corridor, and, passing through 
 two or three dilapidated, ruined chambers, they entered a large and spa- 
 cious apartment, whose sloping floor at once showed Linton that they 
 were standing on the stage of a theatre. 
 
 Tom Keane held up the flickering hght, that the other might see the 
 torn and tattered remnants of the decorations, and the fragments of 
 scenes, as they flapped to and fro. " It's a dhroll place, anyhow," said 
 he, " and there's scarce a bit of it hasn't a trap-door, or some other con- 
 trivance of the like ; but here's one stranger than all, this is what I towld 
 yer honer about." He walked, as he spoke, to the back wall of the 
 building, where, on the surface of the plaster, a rude scene, representing 
 a wood, was painted, at one side of which, a massive pile of rock, over- 
 grown with creepers, stood. " Now, ye'd never guess what was there," 
 said Tom, holding the candle in different situations to exliibit the scene, 
 and, indeed, I found it by chance myself ; see this," — and he pressed a 
 small, but scarcely perceptible knob of brass in the wall, and at once, 
 what appeared to be the surface of the rock, slid back, discovering a dark 
 space behind. "Come on, now, after me," continued he. Linton followed, 
 and they ascended a narrow stair constructed in the substance of the 
 wall, and barely sufficient to admit one person. 
 
 Arriving at the top, after a few seconds' delay, Tom opened a small 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 219 
 
 door, and they stood in a large and well proportioned room, where some 
 worm-eaten bed furniture yet remained. The door had been once, as a 
 small fragment of glass showed, the frame of a large mirror, and must 
 have been quite beyond the reach of ordinary powers of detection. 
 
 " That was a cmming way to steal doAv-n among the play aethers," 
 said Keane, grinning, while Linton, ^\'ith the greatest attention, remarked 
 the position of the door, and its secret fastening. 
 
 " I suppose no one but yourself knows of this stair," said Linton. 
 
 " Sorra one. Sir, except, maybe, some of the smugglers that used to 
 come here long ago, from the mouth of the Shannon. This was one of 
 their hiding-places." 
 
 " Well, if this old mansion comes ever to be inhabited, one might 
 have rare fun by means of that passage, so, be sure you keep the secret 
 well. Let that be a padlock on your hps." And, so sajdng, he took a 
 sovereign from his purse, and gave it him. " Your name is — " 
 
 " Tom, yer Honer, Tom Keane, and, by this and by that, I'm ready 
 to do yer Honer's bidding from this hour out — " 
 
 " Well, we shall be good friends, I see," interrupted Linton. " You 
 may perhaps be useful to me, and I can also be able to serve you. Now, 
 which is the regular entrance to this chamber ?" 
 
 " There, Sir ; it's the last door as ye see in the long passage. Them 
 is all bed-rooms along there, but it's not safe to walk doAvn, for the floor 
 is rotten." 
 
 Linton noted do-v^ai in a memory far from defective the circumstances 
 of the chamber, and then followed his guide through the remainder of 
 the house, which in every quarter presented the same picture of ruin and 
 decay. 
 
 " The bit of candle is near out," said Tom, " but sure there isn't much 
 more to be seen ; there's rooms there was never opened, and more, on 
 the other side, the same. The place is as big as a barrack, and here we 
 are once more on the grand stair." 
 
 For once, the name was not ill applied, as, constructed of Portland 
 stone, and railed with massive banisters of iron, it presented features of 
 sohdity and endurance, in marked contrast to the other portions of the 
 edifice. Linton cast one more glance around the gloomy entrance, and 
 saUied forth into the free air. " I'll see you to-morrow, Tom," said he, 
 *' and we'll have some talk together. — Good-night." 
 
 " Good-night, and good luck to yer Honer ; but won't you let me see 
 your Honer out of the grounds, — as far as the big gate, at least." 
 
 " Thanks ; I know the road perfectly already, and I rather like a lonely 
 stroll of a fine night like this." 
 
 Tom, accordingly, reiterated his good wishes, and Linton was suffered 
 
220 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 to pursue his way, unaccompanied. Increasing his speed, as he arrived 
 at a turn of the road, he took the path which led off the main approach, 
 and led down by the river side to the cottage of Tubber-beg. There 
 was a feeling of strong interest which prompted him to see this cottage, 
 which now he might call his own ; and as he went, he regarded the little 
 clumps of ornamental planting, the well kept walks, the neat palings, 
 the quaint benches beneath the trees, with very different feelings from 
 those he had bestowed on the last visited scene. Nor was he insensible 
 to the landscape beauty which certain vistas opened ; and, seen even by 
 the faint Hght of a new moon, were still rich promises of picturesque 
 situation. 
 
 Suddenly, and without any anticipation, he found himself, on turning 
 a httle copse of evergreens, in front of the cottage, and almost beneath 
 the shadow of its deep porch. Whatever his pre\ious feelings of self-in- 
 terest in every detail around, they were speedily routed by the scene be- 
 fore him. 
 
 In a large and Avell furnished drawing-room, where a single lamp was 
 shining, sat an old man in an easy chair, his features, his attitude, and 
 his w^hole bearing indicating the traces of recent illness. Beside him, on 
 a low stool, almost at his feet, was a young girl of singular beauty. The 
 plastic grace of her figure, the easy motion of the head, as from time to 
 time she raised it, to throw upwards a look of affectionate reverence, and 
 the long, loose masses of her hair, which, accidentally unfastened, fell on 
 either shoulder, making, rather, one of those ideals which a Raphael can 
 conceive, than a mere creature of every day existence. Although late 
 autumn, the windows lay open to the ground, for, as yet no touch of 
 coming winter had visited this secluded and favoured spot. In the still 
 quiet of the night, her voice, for she alone spoke, could be heard ; at 
 first, the mere murmur of the accents reached Linton's ears, but even, 
 from them, he could gather the tone of cheering and encouragement in 
 which she spoke. At length, he heard her say, in a voice of almost tre- 
 mulous enthusiasm, " It was so like you, dear papa, not to tell this Mr. 
 Cashel that you had yourself a claim, and, as many think, a rightful one, 
 to this same estate, and, thus, not trouble the stream of his munificence." 
 
 "Nay, child, it had been as impolitic as miworthy to do so," said the 
 old man ; " he who stoops to receive a favour should detract nothing 
 from the generous sentiment of the granter." 
 
 " For my part, I would tell him," said she, eagerly, " that his noble 
 conduct has for ever barred my prosecuting such a claim, and that if, to- 
 mon'ow, the fairest proofs of my right should reach me, I'd throw them 
 in the fire." 
 
 " To get credit for such self-sacrifice, Mary, one must be independent of 
 
An Evemng^ Scene 
 
JBt. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 221 
 
 all hypothesis ; one must do, and not merely promise. Now, it would be 
 hard to expect Mr. Cashel to feel the same conviction I do, that this con- 
 fiscation was repealed by letters under the hand of Majesty itself. The 
 Brownes, through whom Cashel inherits, were the stewards of my an- 
 cestors, intrusted with all their secret affairs, and cognisant of all their 
 family matters. From the humble position of dependants, they suddenly 
 sprung into wealth and fortune, and ended by piu-chasing the very 
 estate they once Hved on as day labourers, — sold as it was, like all con- 
 fiscated estates, for a mere fraction of its value." 
 
 " Oh, base ingratitude !" 
 
 " Worse still ; it is said, and mth great reason to believe it true, that 
 Hammond Browne, who was sent over to London by my great grand- 
 father to negotiate with the Government, actually received the free par- 
 don and the release of the confiscation, but concealed and made away 
 with both ; and, to prevent my grandfather being driven to further 
 pursuit, gave him the lease of this cottage on the low terms we continue 
 to hold it." 
 
 A low, faint cough from the old man warned his granddaughter of the 
 dangers of the night air, and she arose and closed the windows. They 
 still continued their conversation, but Linton, unable to hear more, 
 returned to his inn, deeply reflecting over the strange disclosm-es he had 
 overheard. 
 
222 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 How cold is treachery ! 
 
 Play. 
 
 " Who can Mr. Linton be, my dear ?" said old Mr. Corrlgan, as he 
 sat at breakfast the next day, and pondered over the card which, with a 
 polite request for an interview, the servant had just delivered. " I cannot 
 remember the name if I ever heard it before, but should we not invite 
 him to join us at breakfast ?" 
 
 " Where is he, Simon ?" asked Miss Leicester. 
 
 "At the door, miss, and a very nice looking gentleman as ever 
 I saw." 
 
 " Say that I have been ill, Simon, and cannot walk to the door, and 
 beg he'll be kind enough to come in to breakfast." 
 
 With a manner, where ease and deference were admirably blended, 
 Linton entered the room, and, apologising for his intrusion, said, *' I 
 have come down here. Sir, on a little business matter for my friend Roland 
 Cashel, and I could not think of returning to town without making the 
 acquaintance of one for whom my friend has already conceived the 
 strongest feeling of interest and regard. It will be the first question I shall 
 hear when I get back, ' Well, what of Mr. Corrigan, and how is he ?' " 
 
 While making this speech, which he delivered in a tone of perfect 
 frankness, he seemed never to have noticed the presence of Miss 
 Leicester, who had retired a little as he entered the room, and now, on 
 being introduced to her, made his acknowledgments with a grave 
 courtesy. 
 
 " And so our young landlord is thinking of taking up his residence 
 amongst us," said Corrigan, as Linton assumed his place at the break- 
 fast-table. 
 
 " For a few weeks he purposes to do so, but I question greatly if the 
 tranquil pleasures and homely duties of a country life will continue long 
 to attract him ; he is very young, and the world so new to him, that he 
 will scarcely settle down anywhere, or to any thing, for some time 
 to come." 
 
 "Experience is a capital thing, no doubt, Mr. Linton, but I'd rather 
 trust the generous impulses of a good hearted youth in a country 
 like this, long neglected by its gentry. Let him once take an in- 
 terest in the place and the people, and I'll vouch for the rest. Is he a 
 sportsman ?" 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 223 
 
 *' He was, when in Mexico ; but buffalo and antelope hunting are 
 Tery different from what this country offers ?" 
 
 " Does he read ? — Is he studious ?" said Mary. 
 
 "Not even a newspaper, Miss Leicester. He is a fine, high-spirited, 
 dashing fellow, and if good nature and honourable intentions could 
 compensate for defective education and training, he would be perfect." 
 
 ** They'll go very far, depend on it, Mr. Linton. In these days, a 
 man of wealth can buy almost any thing. Good sense, judgment, skill, 
 all are in the market ; but a generous nature and a warm heart are God's 
 gifts, and can neither be grafted nor transplanted." 
 
 " You'll like him, I'm certain, Mr. Corrigan ?" 
 
 " I know I shall. I have reason for the anticipation ; Tiemay told 
 me the handsome words he used when according me a favour, — and here 
 comes the Doctor himself." As he spoke. Dr. Tiemay entered the 
 room, his flushed face and hurried breathing bespeaking a hasty walk. 
 " Good morrow, Tiemay. Mr. Linton, let me present our doctor ; not 
 the least among our local advantages, as you can tell your friend Mr. 
 Cashel." 
 
 " We've met before, Sir," said Tiemay, scanning, with a steady gaze, 
 the countenance which, wreathed in smiles, seemed to invite rather than 
 dread recognition. 
 
 " I am happy to be remembered. Dr. Tiemay," said Linton, " al- 
 though I fancy our meeting was too brief for much acquaintance ; but 
 we'll know each other better, I trust, hereafter." 
 
 " No need. Sir," whispered Tiernay, as he passed close to his side, *' I 
 believe we read each other perfectly already." 
 
 Linton smiled, and bowed, as though accepting the speech in some 
 complimentary sense, and turned towards Miss Leicester, who was busily 
 arranging some dried plants in a volume. 
 
 *' These are not specimens of this neighbourhood ?" said Linton, 
 taking up some heaths, " which are seldom found save in Alpine 
 regions." 
 
 " Yes, Sir," interrupted Tiemay, " you'll be surprised to find here 
 productions which would not seem native to these wilds." 
 
 " If you take an interest in such things," said old Corrigan, " you 
 can't have a better guide than my granddaughter and Tiernay ; they 
 know every crag and glen for twenty miles round ; all I bargaia for is, 
 don't be late back for dinner. You'll give us your company, I hope. 
 Sir, at six ?* 
 
 Linton assented, with a cordial pleasure that delighted his inviter ; 
 and Mary, so happy to see the gratified expression of her grandfather's 
 face, looked gratefully at the stranger for his polite compliance. 
 
224 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 *• A word with you, Sir," whispered Tiernay, in Linton's ear ; and 
 he passed out into the Httle flower-garden, saying, as he went, " I'll 
 show Mr. Linton the grounds, Miss Mary, and you shall not have to 
 neglect your household cares." 
 
 Linton followed him without speaking, nor was a word interchanged 
 between them till they had left the cottage a considerable distance be- 
 hind them. " Well, Sir," said Linton, coming to a halt, and speaking 
 in a voice of cold and steadfast purpose, " how far do you purpose that 
 I am to bear you company ?" 
 
 " Only till we are beyond the danger of being overheard," said 
 Tiernay, turning round. " Here will do, perfectly. You will doubtless 
 say, Sir, that in asking you for an explanation of why I see you in this 
 cottage, that I am exceeding the bounds of what right and duty alone 
 impose." 
 
 *' You anticipate me, precisely," said Linton, sarcastically, " and to 
 save you the embarrassment of so obviously impertinent a proceeding, I 
 beg to say that I shall neither afford you the slightest satisfaction on 
 this or any other subject of inquiry — now. Sir, what next ?" 
 
 "Do you forget the occasion of our first meeting," said the Doctor, 
 who actually was abashed beneath the practised effrontery of his adver- 
 sary. 
 
 " Not in the least. Sir. You permitted yourself on that occasion to 
 take a liberty, which from your age and other circumstances, I consented 
 to pass unnoticed. I shall not always vouch for the same patient en- 
 durance on my part ; and so pray be cautious how you provoke it." 
 
 " It was at that meeting," said the Doctor, with passionate earnest- 
 ness, " that I heard you endeavour to dissuade your friend from a fa- 
 vourable consideration of that man's claim, whose hospitality you now 
 accept of. It was with an insolent sneer at Mr. Cashel's simphcity — " 
 
 " Pray stop, Sir — not too far, I beseech you. The whole affair, 
 into which by some extraordinary self-delusion you consider yourself 
 privileged to obtrude, is very simple. This cottage and the grounds 
 appertaining to it are mine. This old gentleman, for whom I entertain 
 the highest respect, is my tenant. The legal proofs of what I say, I 
 promise to submit to you within the week; and it was to rescue Mr. 
 Cashel from the inconsistency of pledging himself to what was beyond 
 his powers of performance that I interfered. Your very ill-advised zeal 
 prevented this ! and rather than increase the awkwardness of a painful 
 situation, I endured a very unprovoked and impertinent remark. Now, 
 Sir, you have the full explanation of my conduct, and my opinion of 
 yours; and I see no reason to continue the interview." So saying, Lin- 
 ton touched his hat and turned back towards the cottage. 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 225 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 " Aye, Sir, the Knave is a deep one." 
 
 " Old Play." 
 
 To save our reader the tedious task of following Mr. Linton's move- 
 mentSj however necessary to our story some insight into them may be, 
 we take the shorter, and therefore pleasanter course, of submitting one 
 of his own brief notes to Roland Cashel, written some three days after 
 his arrival at Tubber-more. 
 
 " Still here, my dear Cashel, still in this Tipperary Siberia, where our 
 devotion to your service has called and still retains us, and what difficulties 
 and dangers have been ours. What a land! — and what a people ! Of a 
 truth, I no longer envy the rich landed proprietor — as, in my ignorance, 
 I used to do some weeks back. To begin : — your Chateau de Tubber- 
 more, which seems a cross between a jail and a county hospital, without, 
 and is a downright ruin, within, stands in a park of thistles and docks, 
 whose luxuriant growth are a contemptuous reflection upon your trees, 
 which positively don't grow at all. So ingeniously placed is this desir- 
 able residence, that although the country, the river, and the mountains, 
 offer some fine landscape effects, not a vestige of any of them can be 
 seen from your windows. Your dining-room, late a nursery for an inte- 
 resting family of small pigs, does look out upon the stables, picturesque 
 as they are in fissured walls and tumbling rafters ; and one of the draw- 
 ing-rooms — they call it the blue room — a tint so likely to be caught up 
 by the spectator — opens upon a garden — but what a garden ! Fruit 
 trees there are none — stay, I am unjust, two have been left standing to 
 give support to a clothes' line, where the amiable household of your 
 care-taker, Mr. Cane, are pictorially represented by various garments, 
 crescendo from the tunic of tender years to the full grown 'toga.' But 
 why enumerate small details ? Let me rather deal in negatives, and tell 
 you, there is not a whole pane of glass in the entire building — not a 
 grate — few doors — little flooring, and actually no roof. The slates, 
 where there are such, are so loose, that the wind rattles among them 
 like the keys of a gigantic piano, and usually ends with a grand Freischiitz 
 effect, which uncovers a room or two. The walls are everywhere so 
 rotten, that if you would break a loophole, you throw down enough to 
 drive a ' break' through — and as for the chimneys ! The jackdaw may 
 
 Q 
 
226 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 plead tlie Statute of Limitations, and defy to surrender a possession 
 which certainly dates from the past century, Perrystell is in despair; he 
 goes ahout sticking his thumb through the rotting timbers, and 
 knocking down partitions with a kick of his foot, and exclaiming against 
 the ignorance of the last age of architects, who, I take it, were pretty 
 much like their successors, save in the thefts committed from Greek and 
 Roman models. This is not tempting, nor the remedy for it easy. 
 Stone and mortar are as great luxuries here, as ice-cream at Calcutta — 
 there are no workmen, or the few are merely artificers in mud. Timber 
 is an exotic — glass and iron are traditions — so that if you desire to be 
 an Irish country gentleman, your pursuit of territorial ascendancy has 
 all the merit of difficulty. Now — que faire ? Shall we restore, or, rather 
 rebuild, or shall we put forty pounds of Dartford gunpowder in one of 
 the cellars, and blow the whole concern to him who must have devised 
 it ? Such is the course I should certainly adopt, myself — and only feel 
 regret at the ignoble service of the honest explosive. 
 
 " Perrystell, like all his tribe, is a pedant, and begins by asking for 
 two years, and I won't say how many thousand pounds — my reply, is, 
 * months and hundreds, vice years and thousands,' and so, we are at issue. 
 I know your anxiety to receive the people you have invited, and I feel 
 how fruitless it would be to tell you with what apologies, I — if in your 
 place — should put them off; so pray instruct me how to act. Shall I 
 commission Perrystell to go'^to work in all form, and meanwhile make a 
 portion of the edifice habitable ? or shall I — and I rather admire the 
 plan — get a corps of stage artificers from Drury Lane, and dress up 
 the house, as they run up a provincial theatre. I know you don't care 
 about cost, which, after all, is the onl}'- real objection to the scheme, and if 
 you incline to my suggestion about the fireworks, for a finish, it will be 
 perfectly appropriate. 
 
 " * My own cottage' — so far, at least, as I could see of it, without in- 
 truding on the present occupant — is very pretty ; roses, and honeysuckle, 
 and jasmines, and such like ruralities, actually enveloping it. It is well 
 placed, too, in a snug little nook, sheltered from the north, and with a peep 
 at the river in front — ^just the sort of place where baffled ambition and 
 disappointment would retire to, and where, doubtless, some of these days, 
 Tom Linton, not being selected by her Majesty as Chief Secretary for 
 the Home Office, will be announced in the papers to have withdrawn 
 from public life, ' to prosecute the more congenial career of literature.' 
 There is a delicious little boudoir, too — such is it at present — you or I 
 would make it a smoking crib — looking over the Shannon, and with a 
 fine, bold mountain, well wooded, beyond. I should like a gossip with 
 you in that bay window, in the mellow hour, when confidence, which 
 hates candles, is at its full. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 227 
 
 " Have I told you every thing ? I scarcely know, my head is so full 
 of roof trees, rafters, joists, gables, and parapets — Halt ! I was forget- 
 ting a pretty — that is not the word— a handsome girl, daughter, or 
 granddaughter, of our tenant Mr. Corrigan, one of those saintly, vir- 
 ginal heads, Raffael painted, with finely pencilled eyebrows, delicate be- 
 yond expression above ; severe, in the cold, unimpassioned character of 
 the mouth and lips ; clever, too, — or what comes to nearly the same, — odd 
 and eccentric, being educated by an old St. Omer priest, who taught her 
 Latin, French, Italian, with a dash of Theology ; and, better than all, 
 to sing Provencal songs, to her own accompaniment on the piano. 
 You'll say, with such companionship, Siberia is not so bad after all, nor 
 would it, perhaps, if we had nothing else to think of. Besides, she is 
 as proud as an Austrian Ai'ch- duchess — has the blood of, God knows 
 how many. Kings — Irish, of course — in her veins, and looks upon 
 me — Saxon, that I am — as a mountain ash might do on a mush- 
 room." 
 
 There was no erasure but one, and that very slight, and seeming un- 
 important ; he had written Tubber-beg at the top of the letter, and, 
 perceiving it, had changed it to Tubbermore, the fact being, that he had 
 already established himself as an inmate of the " Cottage," and a guest of 
 Mr. Corrigan. We need not dwell on the arts by which Linton accom- 
 plished this object, to which, indeed, Mr. Corrigan's hospitable habits 
 contributed no difficulty. The " Doctor" alone could have interposed 
 any obstacle, and he, knowing the extent of Linton's power, did not dare 
 to do so, contenting himself to watch narrowly all his proceedings, and 
 warn his friend, whenever warning could no longer be delayed. 
 
 Without enjoying the advantages of a careful education, Linton's 
 natural quickness counterfeited knowledge so well, that few, in every 
 day intercourse, could detect the imposition. He never read a book 
 through, but he skimmed some thousands, and was thoroughly familiar 
 with that process so popular in our Universities, and technically termed 
 " cramming" an author. In this way, there were few subjects on which 
 he could not speak fairly, a faculty, to which considerable fluency and an 
 easy play of fancy lent great assistance. His great craft, however, was — 
 and whatever may be said on the subject, it would seem the peculiar gift 
 of certain organisations — that he was able, and in an inconceivably short 
 time, to worm himself into the confidence of almost all with whom he 
 came in contact. His natural good sense, his singularly clear views, 
 his ever ready sympathy, but, more than all, the dexterity with which 
 he could affect acquaintance with topics be was all but totally ignorant 
 of, pointed him out as the very person to hear the secrets of a family. 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Mr. Corrigan was not one to exact any great efforts of Linton's tact 
 in this walk ; his long isolation from the world, joined to a character 
 naturally frank, made him communicative and open ; and before Linton 
 had passed a week under his roof, he had heard all the circumstances of 
 the old forfeiture, and the traditionary belief of the family, that it had 
 been withdrawn under a special order of the King in council. 
 
 "You are quite right," said Linton, one night, as this theme had been 
 discussed for some hours, " never to have alluded to this in any corre- 
 spondence with Cashel. His hasty and excitable temper would have 
 construed the whole into a threat — and there is no saying how he might 
 have resented it." 
 
 " I did not speak of it — for a very different reason," said old Cor- 
 rigan proudly ; " I had just accepted a favour — and a great one — at 
 his hands, and I would not tarnish the lustre of his noble conduct by 
 even the possibility of self-interest." 
 
 Linton was silent — a struggle of some kind seemed working within 
 him, but he did not speak, and at last sauntered from the room, and 
 passed out into the little garden in front. 
 
 He had not gone far, when he heard a light footstep on the gravel 
 behind him. He turned, and saw Mary Leicester. 
 
 " I have followed you, Mr. Linton," said she, in a voice whose agi- 
 tation was perceptible, " because I thought it possible that some time or 
 other, in your close intimacy with Mr. Cashel, you might allude to this 
 topic, and I know what distress such a communication would occasion to 
 my grandfather. Our claim — if the word be not inapplicable — 
 can never be revived ; for myself, there is no condition of privation I 
 would not rather meet, than encounter the harassing vicissitudes of a 
 struggle which should embitter my poor dear grandfather's few years on 
 earth. The very mention of the theme is sure to render him irritable 
 and unhappy. Promise me, then, to avoid the subject as much as pos- 
 sible, here, and never to advert to it, elsewhere." 
 
 " Should I not be doing you a gross injustice by such a pledge ?" 
 said Linton, mildly. 
 
 " I can endure that ; I cannot support the alternative. Make me 
 this promise." 
 
 " I make it, truly and solemnly ; would it were in my power to pledge 
 myself to aught of real service to Miss Leicester." 
 
 " There is one such," said Mary, after a pause, " and yet I am 
 ashamed to ask it, — ashamed of the presumption it would imply, — and 
 yet I feel acquitted to my own heart." 
 
 " What is it ? — only tell me how I can serve you," said Linton, 
 passionately. 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 229 
 
 "I have scarce courage for the avowal,' said she, m a low, faint voice. 
 *' It is not that my self-love can be wounded by any judgment that may 
 be pronounced, — it is rather that I dread failure for itself. In a word, 
 Mr. Linton, certain circumstances of fortune have pressed upon my 
 grandfather's resources, some of which I am aware of, — of others 
 ignorant. So much, however, do I know, that the comforts, so neces- 
 sary to his age and habits, have diminished one by one — each year 
 seeing some new privations, where increasing infirmity would demand 
 more ease. In this emergency, 1 have thought of an effort, — you will 
 smile at the folly, perhaps, but be lenient for the motive j — I have 
 endeavoured to make some of the many reminiscences of his own 
 early years contribute to his old age, and have written certain short 
 sketches of the time, when, as a youth, he served as a soldier of the body 
 guard of Louis XVI. I know how utterly valueless they are in a 
 literary point of view — but I have thought that as true pictures of a 
 time, now probably passed away, never to return, they might have their 
 interest. Such is my secret. My entreaty is, to ask of you to look 
 at them, and, if not utterly unworthy, to assist me regarding their pub- 
 lication.'* 
 
 " I not only promise this, — but I can pledge myself to the success," 
 said Linton; "such recitals of life and manners, as I have listened 
 to from Mr. Corrigan, would be invaluable, — we know so little in 
 England—" 
 
 " Nay, let me stop you ; they are written in French. My hope is 
 to procure their insertion in some French jom*nal, as is the custom 
 now-a-days. Here they are," said she, handing him a packet with a 
 trembling hand. " I have but to say, that if they be all I fear them^ 
 you will be too true a friend to peril me by a rejection" — and without 
 waiting for reply, she hurried back to the house. 
 
 Many minutes had not elapsed ere Linton found himself in his room, 
 "with the open manuscript before him. It was quite true, he had not in 
 anticipation conceived a very high idea of Miss Leicester's efforts ; 
 because his habit, like that of a great number of shrewd people, was 
 to regard all amateur performances as very inferior, and that only they 
 who give themselves wholly up to any pursuit, attain even mediocrity. 
 He had not, however, read many pages, till he was struck by the evi- 
 dence of high ability. The style was everywhere simple, chaste^ and 
 elegant. The illustrations natural, and graceful, and the dialogue, 
 when occurring, marked by all the epigrammatic smartness which cha- 
 racterised the era. 
 
 The sketches also had the merit of life pictures, — real characters of 
 the day, being drawn with a vigour that only actual knowledge could 
 
230 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 impart. All these excellences, Linton <30iild perceive, and estimate ; 
 but there were many very far above his power of appreciation. As it 
 was, he read on, fascinated by the interest the scenes inspired, nor 
 ceased till the last page was completed, when, throwing himself on his 
 bed, he fell soon asleep, and dreamed of Mary Leicester. 
 
 His very first care, on waking", was to resume the manuscript, and 
 see how far the impression first made might be corroborated by after 
 thought. It was while reading, that the post had just arrived, bring- 
 ing, among other letters, one in Mr. Phillis's hand, which was, though 
 brief, — significant. 
 
 " Sir, — There is no time to be lost. The K*s are here every day, 
 
 and Lord C spends every morning here till three or four O'C. 
 
 Mr. Meek has written to ask for Mr. C.'s interest in the borough, — 
 what answer given, not known. Mr. C. would seem to be again 
 pressed for money. He was here twice yesterday. The rumour is, 
 that Mr. C. will marry Miss O. K. immediately. Pearse overheard 
 Mr. K. warning Mr. C. against Mr. Linton as a very dangerous in- 
 timate. Ld. C. F. said, when sitting here yesterday, ' I have known 
 master Tom some years, and never knew the man he did not help to 
 ruin, with whom he had any influence. Mr. C . said something about 
 being on his guard, and * suspecting' — but the exact words were not 
 heard. Lord K. and Lady breakfasted with Mr. C. to-day, and stayed 
 till two. Lady K. swept down with her dress a Sevres jar in the 
 boudoir, — heard Mr. C. say, that he would not give the fragments for 
 the most precious vase in the Tuileries. Lord K. asked what he 
 said, and her ladyship replied, that Mr. C.'s vase was unhappily the 
 fellow of one in the Tuileries, and looked confused at the accident. 
 Mr. Linton is warned to lose no time, as Mr. C. is hourly falling deeper 
 into other influences, — and every day something occurs to injure 
 Mr. L.'s interest. 
 
 " Honoured Sir, in duty yours, 
 
 "P. 
 "N.B. — The yacht came into harbour from Cowes, last night." 
 
 The same day which brought this secret despatch saw one from Linton 
 to Cashel, saying, that by the aid of four hundred workmen in various 
 crafts, unceasing toil, and unwearied zeal, Tubbermore would be ready 
 to receive his guests by the following Wednesday. A steamer, hired 
 specially, had brought over from London nearly every thing which con- 
 stitutes the internal arrangement of a house, and as money had been 
 spent without control, difficulties melted away into mere momentary 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 231 
 
 embarrassments, — impossibilities there were none. The letter contained 
 a long list of commissions for Casbel to execute, given, however, with 
 no other object than to occupy his time for the remaining few days in 
 town as much as possible. This, written and sent off, Linton addressed 
 himself to his task of preparation, with an energy few could surpass, and 
 while the tradespeople were stimulated by increased pay to greater efforts, 
 and the work was carried on through the night by torch-lights, the 
 whole demesne swarmed with labourers, by whom roads were cut, paths 
 gravelled, fences levelled, flower-plots devised, even the garden — that 
 labyrinth of giant weeds — was reduced to order, till in the hourly 
 changing aspect of the place, it was hard not to recognise the wand of 
 enchantment. It was, indeed, like magic to see how fountains sprang 
 up, and threw their spray ey showers over the new planted shrubs ; new 
 paths led away into dense groves of trees ; windows, so late half walled 
 up, now opened upon smooth, shaven turf, or disclosed a reach of swelling 
 landscape ; and chambers, that a few days back were the gloomy abode 
 of the bat and the night-owl, became of a sudden cheerful and light- 
 some. 
 
 Stuccoed ceilings, mirror-panelled windows, gilded cornices, and 
 carved architraves — aU of which would imply time and long labour — 
 were there, at once, and on the moment, for the Good Fairy, who did 
 these things, knows not failure — the Banker's Checkbook. From the 
 great hall to the uppermost chamber, the aspect of all bespoke com- 
 fort. The elegancies of life, Linton well knew, are like all other refine- 
 ments, not capable of being " improvised," but the daily comforts are. 
 The meaner objects which make up the sum of hourly want — the lazy 
 ottoman, the downy pillowed fauteuils, the little squabs that sit in win- 
 dows to provoke flirtations and inspire confidences ; the tempting little 
 writing-tables, that suggest pen-and-ink ; the billiard-table, opening on 
 the flower garden, so redolent of sweet odours, that you feel exonerated 
 for the shame of an indoor occupation ; the pianos, and guitars, and 
 harps, scattered about in various places, as though to be ever ready to the 
 touch ; the books, and prints, and portfolios, that give excuse to the 
 lounging mood, and text for that indolent chit-chat, so pleasant of a 
 morning. All these, and a thousand other things, seen through the long 
 perspective of a handsome suite of rooms, do make up that sum, for which 
 our own dear epithet, " comfort," has no foreign equivalent. 
 
 We have been often compelled, in this veracious history, to reflect with 
 harshness on certain traits of Mr. Linton's morality. Let us make him 
 the small amende in our power to say, that in his present functions he was 
 unsurpassable — and here, for the moment, we leave him. 
 
232 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " They alle agrede, to disagree, 
 A moste united Familie !" 
 
 Great was the excitement and bustle in the Kennyfeck family on the 
 arrival of a brief note from Roland Cashel, setting forth that the house at 
 Tubbermore was at length in a state to receive his guests, who were in- 
 vited for the following Wednesday. 
 
 Although this visit had rarely been alluded to in Cashel's presence, it 
 was a very frequent topic of the family in secret committee, and many 
 were the fears inspired by long postponement that the event would never 
 come off. Each, indeed, looked forward to it with very different feelings. 
 Independent of all more purely personal views, Mrs. Kennyfeck specu- 
 lated on the immense increase of importance she should obtain socially, 
 in the fact of being domesticated in the same house with a Commander of 
 the Forces and his lady, not to speak of secretaries, aide-de-camps, and 
 heaven knows what other functionaries. The young ladies had pro- 
 spective visions of another order, and poor Kennyfeck fancied himself a 
 kind of agricultural Metternich, who was about, at the mere suggestion of 
 his will, to lay down new territorial limits on the estate, and cut and 
 carve the boundaries at his pleasure. 
 
 Aunt Fanny, alone, was not warmed by the enthusiasm around her ; 
 first of all, there were grave doubts if she could accompany the others, 
 as no precise invitation had ever been accorded to her ; and although 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck stoutly averred "she was as good as asked," the elder 
 daughter plainly hinted at the possible awkwardness of such a step, 
 Olivia preserving between the two a docile neutrality. 
 
 *' I'm sorry for your sake, my dear," said Miss O'Hara, to Olivia, with 
 an accent almost tart, "because I thought I might be useful." 
 
 " It is very provoking for all our sakes," said Miss Kennyfeck, as 
 though quietly suffering the judgment to be pronounced ; "we should 
 have been so happy all together." 
 
 " If your father was any good, he'd manage it at once," said Mrs. K., 
 with a resentful glance towards poor Mr. Kennyfeck, who, with spec- 
 tacles on his forehead, and the newspaper on his knee, fancied he was 
 thinking. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 233 
 
 " We should have some very impertinent remark upon it, I'm 
 certain," said Miss K., who, for reasons we must leave to the reader's 
 own acuteness, was greatly averse to her aunt accompanying them ; 
 " so many of one family ! 1 know how Linton will speak of it." 
 
 '*' Let him, if he dare ; I wonder whose exertions placed Cashel him- 
 self in the position he enjoys," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, angrily, and darting 
 a look of profound contempt at her husband, recognising, doubtless, the 
 axiom of the ignoble means through which Providence occasionally effects 
 our destinies. 
 
 " I can remain here, mamma, for that matter," said Olivia, in a voice 
 of angelic innocence. 
 
 " Sweet — artless creature," whispered her sister, " not to know how 
 all om* devices are exercised for her." 
 
 " It's really too provoking, Fanny," said Mrs. Kennyfeck ; "you were 
 just beginning to acquire that kind of influence over him, which 
 would be so serviceable, and once in the country, where so many oppor- 
 tunities for joining him in his walks would occur, I calculated immensely 
 on your assistance." 
 
 " Well, my dear, it can't be helped," sighed Aunt Fanny. 
 
 " Couldn't we allude to it to-day, when Cashel calls, and say something 
 about your going away to the country and our regrets at parting, and 
 so on. Olivia, you might do that very easily." 
 
 "It wouldn't do for Olivia," said aunt Fanny, very sententiously. 
 
 " Quite right, aunt," chimed in Miss Kennyfeck ; " that would 
 be like old Admiral Martin, who shot away all his ammunition, firing 
 salutes." 
 
 "Mr. Kennyfeck!" said his spouse, with a voice of command ; ''I 
 vow he is deafer every day — Mr. Kennyfeck, you must call on 
 Mr. Cashel this morning, and say, that we really cannot think of in- 
 flicting him with an entire family, that you and I alone — or you and 
 Olivia—" 
 
 " No — no, Mr. Kennyfeck and Caroline," interposed aunt Fanny, 
 "say that." 
 
 " Thanks for the preference," said Miss Kennyfeck, with a short nod, 
 " I am to play lightning conductor, isn't it so ?" 
 
 " Or shall I propose going alone ?" interposed Mr. Kennyfeck, in all 
 the solemnity of self-importance. 
 
 " Isn't he too bad ?" exclaimed his wife, turning to the others, " did 
 you ever conceive there could be any thing as dull as that man ? We 
 cannot trust you with any part of the transaction." 
 
 " Here comes Mr. Cashel himself," said Miss Kennyfeck, as a 
 
234 EOLAND CASHEL, 
 
 phaeton drove rapidly to the door ; and Cashel, accompanied by a 
 friend, descended. 
 
 " Not a word of what we were speaking, Mr. Kennyfeck !" said his 
 wife sternly, for she reposed slight reliance on his tact. 
 
 " Who is with him?" whispered Olivia, to her sister ; but not heed- 
 ing the question. Miss Kennyfeck said, 
 
 *' Take my advice, Livy, and get rid of your Duenna. You'll play 
 your own game better." 
 
 Before there was time for rejoinder. Lord Charles Frobisher and 
 Cashel entered the drawing-room. 
 
 " You received my note, I hope, Mrs. Kennyfeck," said Roland, as 
 he accepted her cordially-offered hand. '*! only this morning got 
 Linton's last bulletin, and immediately wrote off to tell you." 
 
 " That is significant," whispered Miss Kennyfeck to Olivia. " To give 
 us the earliest intelligence." 
 
 " I trust the announcement is not too abrupt." 
 
 " Of course not, — our only scruple is, the largeness of our party. 
 We are really shocked at the notion of inflicting an entire family upon 
 you." 
 
 " Beware the Bear," whispered Lord C, in a very adroit under-tone, 
 — " don't invite the Aunt." 
 
 " My poor house will only be the more honoured," said Cashel, bow- 
 ing, and sorely puzzled how to act. 
 
 " You'll have a very numerous muster, Cashel, I fancy," said Lord 
 Charles, aloud ; " not to speak of the invited, but those * Umbrae' as 
 the Romans called them, who follow in the suite of such fascinating 
 people as Mrs. White." 
 
 " Not one too many, if there be but room for them ; my great 
 anxiety is, that my personal friends should not be worst off, and I have 
 come to beg, if not inconvenient, that you would start from this on 
 Tuesday." 
 
 " Do you contract to bring us all down ?" said Frobisher, " I really 
 think you ought ; the geography of that district is not very familiar to 
 most of us. What says Miss Kennyfeck ?" 
 
 " I like every thing that promises pleasure and amusement." 
 
 " What says her sister?" whispered Cashel to Olivia. 
 
 " How do you mean to travel, Mr. Cashel ?" said she, in a tone, 
 which might be construed into perfect artlessuess, or the most intense 
 interest. 
 
 " With you, — if you permit," said Cashel, in a low voice. *' I 
 have been thinking of asking Mrs. Kennyfeck if she would like 
 
EOLAi^D CASHEL. 235 
 
 to go down by sea, and sail up the Shannon. My yacht has just 
 arrived." 
 
 " Mamma cannot bear the water, or it would be delightful," said 
 Olivia. 
 
 " Cannot we manage a Lady Patroness, then ?" said Cashel, *' would 
 Miss O'Hara kindly consent ?" 
 
 " Aunt Fanny, Mr. Cashel wishes to speak to you." 
 
 " Gare, ma Tante !" said Frobisher, between his teeth. 
 
 " We were speaking, — or rather, I was expressing a hope," said 
 Cashel, diflBdently, " that a yacht excursion round the southern Coast 
 and so up the Shannon, might not be an inappropriate way of reaching 
 Tubbermore. Would Miss O'Hara feel any objection to be of the party ?" 
 
 " With Caroline and me," said Olivia, innocently. 
 
 Miss O'Hara smiled, and shook her head doubtfully. 
 
 " It is very tempting, Mr. Cashel, — too tempting, indeed ; but it 
 requires consideration. May I speak a word with you ?" and so saying, 
 she withdrew with Cashel into a window recess. 
 
 The interview was brief ; but as they returned to the circle, Cashel 
 was heard to say, 
 
 " I am really the worst man in the world to solve such difficulties ; 
 for in my ignorance of all forms, I incur the risk of undervaluing them ; 
 but if you thought by my inviting Lord and Lady Kilgoff — " 
 
 " Oh, by no means. My sister would never consent to that, — but I 
 will just confer with her for an instant." 
 
 " If the Kilgoffs are asked, it spoils all," said Mrs. Kenny feck, in 
 reply to a wliispered communication of her sister. 
 
 " I'll manage that," said Aunt Fanny, " I half hinted you didn't like 
 the companionship for the girls." 
 
 " He'll invite Mrs. Leicester White, or Lady Janet, perhaps." 
 
 " He shan't. I'll take the whole upon myself." 
 
 " You have done it, I see," said Frobisher, coming close to Cashel, 
 and affecting to examine his watch-guard, " and I warned you, not- 
 withstanding." 
 
 " What could I do ?" said Cashel, hopelessly. 
 
 "What you must do, later on," said Lord Charles, coolly ; "cut the 
 whole concern altogether." 
 
 " Have you invited the Dean, Mr. Cashel ?" interposed Mrs. Kenny- 
 feck. - 
 
 " I really cannot inform you, madam. There has been so much 
 confusion, — Linton promising to do every thing, and, ask every body ; 
 but the omission, — if such — " 
 
 " Should be left where it is," muttered Frobisher. 
 
236 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 *' How long should we probably be on the voyage, Mr. Cashel ?" 
 asked Miss O'Hara. 
 
 "Three — four — or five days — perhaps, more." 
 
 ** ril give you a month's sail, — and back 'Time' after all," said Lord 
 Charles. 
 
 " Oh, that is out of the question, — we couldn't think of such an ex- 
 cursion," said Aunt Fanny. 
 
 Olivia cast a most imploring look on her aunt and was silent. 
 
 "Another point, Mr. Cashel," said Miss O'Hara, speaking in a very 
 low whisper ; " my sister, who is so particular about her girls — you know 
 how they have been brought up, so rigidly, and so carefully — she is 
 afraid of that kind of intimacy that might possibly grow up between 
 them and — and — ." Here she came to a full stop. " Didn't I hear you 
 speak of Lady Kilgoff ?" 
 
 "Yes; I thought her exactly the kind of person you'd like to 
 have." 
 
 " Oh, she is charming — most delightful ; but she is a woman of the 
 world, Mr. Cashel," said Aunt Fanny, shaking her head. 
 
 " Indeed !" muttered Roland, not in the least guessing the drift of 
 the remark. 
 
 " No, no, Mr. Cashel, that would never do. These sweet children have 
 no knowledge of such people, further than the common intercourse of 
 society. Lady Kilgoff and Mrs. White — " 
 
 " Is she another ?" 
 
 " She is another, Mr. Cashel," said Aunt Fanny, oraculously. 
 
 " Then I see nothing for it, but limiting the party to myself and my 
 yacht commander — Lieutenant Sickleton of the Navy — and I believe 
 we have as little of the world about us as any one could desire." 
 
 It was full a minute or two before Miss O'Hara could satisfy herself 
 that this speech was not uttered ironically, but the goodnatured and 
 frank look of the speaker at last dispelled the fear, and she said, 
 
 " Well, if you really ask my opinion, I'd say, you are right. For our 
 parts-;— that is, for the girls and myself, I mean — we should like it all the 
 better, and if you wouldn't find us too tiresome companions — " 
 
 Miss O'Hara was interrupted here by Mrs. Kenny feck, who, with con- 
 siderable agitation in her manner, said, " I must beg pardon for disturb- 
 ing your agreeable tete-a-tete, Mr. Cashel, but I wish to say one word 
 to my sister." 
 
 As they retired together, Frobisher came up, r.nd, drawing his arm 
 within Roland's, led him to a window : " I say, old fellow, you are 
 going too fast here ; hold in a bit, I advise you." 
 
 "How do you mean ? — what have I done ?" 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 237 
 
 " It's no affair of mine, you know, and you may say I'm devilish im- 
 pertinent to mix myself up in it, but I don't like to see a fellow ' sold,' 
 notwithstanding." 
 
 *^ Pray he explicit and frank — what is it ?" 
 
 " Well, if you'll not take it ill ?" 
 
 " I promise, I shall not, — go on." 
 
 " Do you mean to marry that little girl yonder, with the blue flower 
 in her hair ?" 
 
 " I cannot say that I do, or that I do not," said Roland, getting very 
 red. 
 
 "Then, you're making a very bad book, that's all." 
 
 " Oh, you're quite mistaken, I don't suspect her of the slightest feehng 
 towards me — " 
 
 " What has that to say to it, my dear fellow ?" interrupted Frobisher, 
 " I didn't imply that she was in love with you ! I wanted to warn you 
 about the mess you're getting into — the family fracas — the explanation 
 asking — the sermonising — the letter-writing — the tears, reproaches, dis- 
 tractions — aye, and the damages, too ! — devilish heavy they'd be 
 against one like you, with plenty of * ready;' — hush, they're coming." 
 
 Miss O'Hara advanced toward Cashel, and Frobisher retired ; her mien 
 and carriage were, however, statelier and more imposing, with less of 
 cordiality than before. " We cannot agree upon the details of this ex- 
 cursion, I find. Sir ; my sister's scruples — Mr. Kennyfeck's doubts — the 
 difficulties, in short, of every kind, are such, that I fear we must relin- 
 quish it." 
 
 Cashel bowed deeply, without uttering a word ; the insinuations of Fro- 
 bisher were added in his mind to the suspicion that some secret game 
 was being played against him, and his manly nature was insulted by the 
 doubt. 
 
 Aunt Fanny, perhaps, perceived she had gone too far, for, re-assuming 
 her former smile, she said, " Not that we despair of one day or other tak- 
 ing a pleasure trip in your beautiful vessel." 
 
 " You do me too much honour by expressing such a hope," said 
 Cashel, gravely ; and then turning to Frobisher, added, " Will you drive 
 me down to Kingstown ? I want to go on board for a few minutes." 
 
 " We see you at seven o'clock, I hope ?" said Mrs. Kennyfeck, in a 
 whisper. 
 
 " I regret to have made an engagement for to-day, madam," replied 
 Cashel, stiffly. " Good morning, ladies. Very sorry. Miss O'Hara, 
 our sea intentions have been a failure. Let me hope for better luck 
 on land." 
 
 " Will you not be here this evening ?" said Olivia, as he passed close 
 
238 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 to her, and there was in the swunming eye, and tremulous voice, enough 
 to have melted a harder heart than Roland's ; but this time he was 
 proof against all blandishments, and with a very cold negative, he de- 
 parted. 
 
 " There is a hope for you yet, old fellow," said Lord Charles, as he 
 walked down stairs beside him, "you did that extremely well." 
 
 Now although Roland was far from knowing what he had done, or 
 how to merit the praises, he was too well pleased with the momentary 
 repose the flattery afforded, to question further. Meanwhile, a very 
 excited scene took place in the house they had just quitted, and to 
 which, for a brief space, we must return. 
 
 On a sofa in one corner of the room sat Olivia Kennyfeck, pale and 
 trembling, her eyes tearful, and her whole air bespeaking grief and 
 agitation, — at the window close by stood Miss Kennyfeck, the calm 
 composure of her face, the ease of her attitude, the very types of in- 
 ternal quiet, she looked out, up the square, and playing on the wood- 
 work of the window an imaginary piano-forte air. While in the back 
 drawing-room sat Mrs. Kennyfeck and Miss O'Hara side by side on a 
 sofa, their excited looks, and heightened complexions, attesting the ani- 
 mation of the controversy, — for such in reality it was. 
 
 " I thought you would go too far, — I knew you would," said Mrs. 
 Kennyfeck, with an angry gesture of the hand. 
 
 **What do you mean by too far?" rejoined her sister. "Is it in 
 the face of a letter like this, that you would permit him to continue his 
 attentions, and worse still, let the girls go off for an excursion of may- 
 be a week or two ; read that." 
 
 " The letter is anonymous, and may be untrue from end to end." 
 
 " Then why not let me test its truth, by some allusion to its con- 
 tents ?" 
 
 " And banish him from the house, ever after," rejoined Mrs. Kenny- 
 feck, bitterly. "No, no, Fanny, you mistake him very much; he isn't 
 like one of your old County Clare admirers, that can be huffed to-day, 
 and asked to dinner to-morrow, — not that indeed you showed such 
 judgment in your management even of them." 
 
 This allusion to Aunt Fanny's spinsterhood was too palpable to 
 pass unnoticed, and she arose from the sofa with a face of outraged 
 temper. 
 
 " It might be a question, my dear, between us, which had the 
 least success, — I, who never got a husband, — or you, who mamed that 
 one ?" 
 
 If Mr. Kennyfeck had intended by a tableau to have pointed the 
 moral of this allusion, he could not have succeeded better, as he sat 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 239 
 
 bolt upright in his chair, endeavouring through the murky cloud o£ 
 his crude ideas, to catch one ray of light upon all he witnessed, — he 
 looked the very ideal of hopeless stupidity. Miss O'Hara, like a skil- 
 ful general, left the field under the smoke of her last fire, and Mrs. 
 JKennyfeck sat alone, with what Homer would call ** a heart-consuming 
 rage," to meditate on the past. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 " The mariner's chart 
 He knew by heart, 
 And every current, rock, and shore, 
 From the drifting sand, 
 Off Newfoundland, 
 To the sun-split cliffs of Singapore." 
 
 Captain Pike. 
 
 Lord Charles Frobisher was never a very talkative companion, 
 and as Cashel's present mood was not communicative, they drove along, 
 scarcely interchanging a sentence, till the harbour of Kingstown came in 
 sight, and with it the gay pennons that fluttered from the mast of Roland's 
 schooner. 
 
 " I suppose that is your yacht — the large craft yonder ?" 
 
 " I hope so," said Cashel, enthusiastically, " she sits the water like a 
 duck, and has a fine rakish look about her." 
 
 " So, then, you never saw her before ?'* 
 
 " Never. I purchased her from description, taking her crew, com- 
 mander, and all, just as she sailed into Southampton from Zante, a month 
 ago. They sent me a drawing of her, her measurement, tonnage, and 
 draught of water, as also the log of her run in the Mediterranean ; — yes, 
 that's her, I can recognise the water line from the sketch." 
 
 " Is your visit on board going to be a long one ?" drawled out Lord 
 Charles, languidly, " for I own I am not the least aquatic, and were it 
 not for lobsters and white bait, I'd vote the sea a humbug." 
 
 *' Then, I'll say good bye," said Cashel ; " that blue water, that 
 curling ripple, and the fluttering of that bunting, have sent me a think- 
 ing about a hundred things." 
 
 " You'll dine with us at seven, won't you?" 
 
240 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 ** No, III dine on board, or not dine at all," said he, as he sprang from 
 the carriage, and, waving his hand in adieu, made his way to the har- 
 bour. Taking the first boat that offered, Cashel rowed out to the yacht, 
 just in time to catch Lieutenant Siclileton, who, in full yacht costume, was 
 about to wait on his principal. He was a bluff, good natured, blunt 
 fellow, who, having neither patronage nor interest in the service, had left 
 the wardroom for the easier, but less ambitious, life of a yacht commander ; 
 a thoroughly good seaman, and brave as a lion, he saw himself reduced 
 to a position almost menial from hard and galling necessity. He had 
 twice been to Alexandria with touring lords, who, while treating him 
 well in all essentials, yet mingled so much of condescension in their 
 courtesy, as to be all but unendurable. He had gone to America, with 
 a young Oxford man, the son of a great London brewer, whose over- 
 bearing insolence he had been obliged to repel by a threat of personal 
 consequences. He had taken an invalid family to Madeira, and a 
 ruined duke to Greece, and was now, with the yacht and its company, 
 transferred to CasheFs hands, not knowing — scarce caring — with whom, 
 or where, his future destinies were to be cast. 
 
 The Freemasonry of the sea has a stronger tie than the mere use of 
 technicals. Cashel was not ten minutes on board, ere Sickleton and he 
 were like old acquaintances. The " Lucciola" was, in Sickleton 's 
 ideas, the best thing that ever ran on a keel. There was nothing she 
 couldn't do — fair weather or foul. She could out-sail a Yankee smack 
 in a gale off the coast of Labrador — or beat a felucca in the light 
 winds off the Gulph of Genoa. If these tidings were delightful to 
 Cashel's ears — the most exciting and heart-stirring he had listened to 
 for many a day — the gratification was no less to Sickleton, that he was 
 about to sail with one who really loved the sea, and thoroughly under- 
 stood, and could value the qualities of his noble craft. 
 
 From the vessel, they turned the conversation to all the possible places 
 the world's map afforded for a cruise. Sickleton's experiences were 
 chiefly eastern — he knew the Mediterranean as well as he did the 
 Downs, while Cashel's could vie with him in both coasts of the great 
 Spanish Peninsula, and all the various channels of the West India 
 "Islands. For hours, they sat discussing soundings, and trade winds, 
 and shore currents, with all the bearings of land points, bluffs, and light- 
 houses. In talk, they visited half the globe — now staggering under a 
 half reefed topsail, in the Bay of Biscay — now swimming along, with 
 winged and stretching sails, under the blue cliffs of Baia. 
 
 '' I'm sure I don't know how you ever could lead a shore life," said 
 Sickleton, as Cashel described with warm enthusiasm some passages of 
 his rover's existence. 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 241 
 
 " Nor do I understand how I have borne it so long," said Cashel ; " its 
 dissipations weary — its deceits provoke me. I have lost — if not all- 
 great part of that buoyancy, which mingled peril and pleasure create, and 
 I suppose, in a month or two more, I should be about as apathetic — as 
 indolent, and as selfish — as any fine gentleman ought to be. Ah, if we 
 had a war!" 
 
 " That's it — that's what I say every day and every night — if we had a 
 war, the world would be worth living in or dying for. Fellows like my- 
 self, for instance, are never thought of in a peace, but they 'look us all 
 out' — ^just as they do a storm jib, when it comes on to blow — no laughing 
 a man out of position, then — no, faith !" 
 
 " How do you mean ?" said Cashel, who saw in the intense expres- 
 sion of the speaker, how much the words covered. 
 
 " Just what happened to myself — that's all," said Sickleton, " but if 
 you like to hear how — the story isn't long, or any way remarkable; but 
 we'll have a bit of luncheon here, and I'll tell it to you." 
 
 Cashel willingly assented, and very quickly a most appetising meal 
 made its appearance in the cabin, to which Sickleton did the honours 
 most creditably. 
 
 " I'm impatient for that anecdote you promised me," said Cashel, as 
 the dessert made its appearance, and they sat in all the pleasant enjoyment 
 of social ease. 
 
 " You shall hear it — though, as I said before, it's not much of a story 
 either — nor should I tell it, if I didn't see that you feel a sort of interest 
 about myself — unhappily, its hero." 
 
 *' I'll not weary you by telling you the story that thousands can re- 
 peat, of a service without patronage, no sooner afloat than paid off again, 
 and no chance of employment, save in a ten-gun brig off the coast oi 
 Guinea, and I suppose you know what that is ?" 
 Cashel nodded, and Sickleton went on. 
 
 " Well, I passed as lieutenant, and went through my yellow fever in 
 the Niger very creditably. I was the only one of a ship's company 
 in the gun-room on the way back to England, after a two yeai's' cruise ; 
 I suppose because life was less an object to me than the other fellows, 
 who had mothers, and sisters, and so on. So it was, I brought the 
 old' Amphion' safe into dock, and was passed off to Avander about the 
 world, with something under forty pounds in my pocket, and a 'good service 
 letter ' from the Admiralty — a document that costs a man some trouble 
 to gain, but that would not get you a third class place in the rail to 
 Croydon, when you have it. What was I to do, — I had no interest for 
 the Coast-Guard. I tried to become keeper of a light-house, but failed. 
 It was no use to try and be a clerk, — there were plenty of fellow?, better 
 
 B 
 
242 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 qualified than myself, walking the streets supperless. So I set myself 
 a thinking if I couldn't do something for ' the service' that might get 
 me into notice, and make the * Lords' take me up. There was one 
 chap made his fortune by * round sterns' — though they were known 
 in the Dutch Navy for' two centuries. There was another invented a 
 life boat, — a third, a new floating buoy, — and so on. Now I' m sure 
 I passed many a sleepless night thinking of something that might aid 
 me ; at one time it was a new mode of reefing top-sails in a gale, — at 
 another it was a change in signalising the distant ships of a squa- 
 dron, — now an anchor for rocky bottoms, — now a contrivance for 
 lowering quarter-boats in a heavy sea, — till at last, by dint of down- 
 right hard thought and perseverance, I did fall upon a lucky notion. 
 1 invented a new hand-pump, applicable for launches and gun-boats, 
 —a thing greatly wanted, — very simple of contrivance, and easy to 
 work. It was a blessed moment to be sure, when my mind, instead of 
 wandering over eveiy thing from the round top to the taf 'rail, at last 
 settled down on this same pump ! 
 
 " It was not mere labour and study, this invention caused me. No ! 
 it swallowed up nearly every shilling of my little hoard. I was obliged 
 to make a model, and what with lead and zinc, and sawder and leather, 
 and caoutchouc, and copper, I was very soon left without * tin,' but I had 
 hope, and hope makes up for half rations ! At last, my pump was 
 perfect ; the next thing was to make it known. There was no use in 
 trying this through any unprofessional channels. Landsmen think 
 that as they pay for the Navy, they need not bother their heads about 
 it further. * My Lords,' I knew well, wouldn't mind me, because my 
 father wasn't in Parliament, and so I thought of one of those 'Magazines' 
 that devote themselves to the interest of the two services, and I wrote 
 a paper accordingly; and accompanied it by a kind of diagram of my 
 pump. I waited for a month — two — thi'ee months, — but heard nothing 
 — saw nothing of my invention. I wrote, but could get no answer. 
 I called, but could see no Editor : and at last was meditating some per- 
 sonal vengeance, when I received a note. It was then much after Mid- 
 summer, few people in town, and the Magazines were printing any 
 thing — as no one reads them in the dog-days, — stating that if Lieute- 
 nant Sickleton would procure a wood-cut of his pump, that the paper 
 descriptive of it should appear in the next number. That was a civil 
 way of asking me for five pounds, but help there was none, and so I 
 complied. 
 
 ** At length I read in the list of the contents * Lieutenant Slckleton's 
 New Hand Pump, with an Illustration,' — and my heart bounded at the 
 words. It was- the nineteenth article, — near the end of the number. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 243 
 
 I forget what the others were, something of course ahout AVaterloo, and 
 Albuera, and the Albert chako, and such hke stuflp. My pump. 1 knew, 
 put it where they would, was the paper of the month. This feeling 
 was a little abated on finding, that as I walked down Fleet Street on 
 the day of publication, I didn't perceive any sign of public notice, or 
 recognition; no one said as I passed ^ that's Sickleton, the fellow who 
 invented the new pump.' I remembered, however, that if my pump 
 was known, / was not as yet, and that th' o* portrait of my invention had 
 become fame, — my own was still in obscurity. 
 
 " I betook myself to the office of the journal, expecting there at least 
 to find that enthusiastic reception the knowledge of ray merits must se- 
 cure, but hang me, if one of the clerks — as to the Editor, there was no 
 seeing him — took the slightest trouble about me. I told him, with, I 
 trust, a pardonable swelhng of the bosom, that I was * Sickleton.* 
 I didn't say the famous Sickleton, and I thought I was modest in the 
 omission ; but he w^asn't in the least struck by the announcement, and 
 I quitted the place in disgust. 
 
 " Worse than all, when I came to read over my paper, I found, by 
 the errors of the press, that the whole diagram was spoiled. The letters 
 had been misplaced, and the Fiend himself, if he wanted it, couldn't work 
 my pump. You see that C. D. represented the angular crank, F. was 
 the stop cock, and T. the trigger, that closed the piston, — hang me, if 
 they didn't make F. the trigger, and instead of B. being the cistern, 
 it was made the jet, so that when you began to work, all the water 
 squirted through the sluices at O. P. Q. over the operator. 1 went 
 nearly mad. I wrote a furious letter to the Editor, — I wTote another 
 to the Times^ I wrote to the Globe— the Post— and the Herald. I 
 explained — I elucidated — I asked for the Englishman's birth-right, as 
 they call it, — 'Justice,' but no use ! In fact, my reclamations could only 
 be inserted as advertisements, and would cost me about a hundred 
 pounds to publish. So I sat down to grieve over my invention, and 
 curse the hour I ever thought of serving my country'. 
 
 " It was about six months after this, I had been living on some re- 
 lations, nearly as poor as myself, when I one day received an order to 
 'wait at the Admiralty the next morning.' I went, but without hope 
 or interest. I couldn't guess why I was sent for, but no touch of ex- 
 pectancy made me anxious for the result. 
 
 "I waited from eleven till four in the ante-room; and at last, after 
 some fifty had had audiences. Lieutenant Sickleton was called. The 
 time was I would have trembled at such an interview to the very mar- 
 row of my bones. Disappointment, however, had nerved me, now, and 
 I stood as much at ease and composed as I sit here. 
 
 ii2 
 
244 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " * You are Mr. Sickleton,' said the first Lord, who was a 'tartar.' 
 
 " * Yes, my Lord.' 
 
 "' You invented a kind of pump — a hand-pump, for launches and 
 small craft, I think ?' 
 
 " ' Yes, my Lord/ 
 
 " ' You have a model of the invention, too ?* 
 
 *' ' Yes, my Lord.' 
 
 " * Can you describe the principle of your discovery — is there any 
 thing", which, for its novelty, demands the peculiar attention of the Ad- 
 miralty.' 
 
 «<Yes — at least, I think so, my Lord,' said I, the last embers of 
 hope beginning to flicker into a faint flame within. ' The whole is so 
 simple that I can, with your permission, make it perfectly intelligible, 
 even here. There is a small double-acting piston — ' 
 
 *^ 'Confound the fellow! don't let him bore us, now,' said Admiral M—— 
 in a whisper quite loud enough for me to overhear it. ' If it amuse 
 his Majesty, that's enough. Tell him what's wanted and let him go.' 
 
 " ' Oh, very well,' said the first Lord, who seemed terribly afraid of 
 his colleague. ' It is the King's wish, Mr. Sickleton, that your in- 
 vention should be tested under his Majesty's personal inspection, and 
 you are therefore commanded to present yourself at Windsor on Mon- 
 day next, with your model, at eleven o'clock. It is not very cumbrous, 
 I suppose.' 
 
 " ' No, my Lord. It only weighs four and a half hundred weight.' 
 
 "'Pretty well for a model; but here is an order for a waggon. 
 You'll present this at Woolwich.' He bowed, and turned his back, and 
 I retreated. 
 
 " Sharp to the hour of eleven I found myself at Windsor on the 
 following Monday. It was past two, however, before his Majesty could 
 see me. There were audiences and foreign ambassadors, papers to read, 
 commissions to sign — in fact, when two o'clock came, the King- had 
 only got through a part of his day's work, and then it was luncheon- 
 time. This was over about three; and at last, his Majesty, with the 
 first Lord, two admirals, and an old Post-Captain, who, by the way, had 
 once put me in irons for not saluting his Majesty's guard when coming 
 up to the watch at midnight, appeared on the terrace. 
 
 The place selected for the trial was a neat little parterre outside one 
 of the small drawing-rooms. There was a fountain supplied by two 
 running streams, and this I was to experiment upon, with my new pump. 
 It was nervous enough to stand there before such a presence ; but the 
 uppermost thought in my mind was about my invention, and I almost 
 forgot the exalted rank of my audience. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 245 
 
 " After due presentation to his Majesty, and a few common-place 
 questions about where I had served, and how long, and so on, the King 
 said, ' Come now. Sir. Let us see the pump at work, for we hav'n't 
 much time to lose/ 
 
 " I immediately adjusted the apparatus, and -when all was ready, I 
 looked about in some dismay, for I saw no one to assist the working. 
 There were present besides the ELing and the three naval officers, only 
 two fellows in full dress liveries, a devilish sight more pompous-looking 
 than the King or the first Lord. AVhat was to be done. It was a 
 dilemma I had never anticipated ; and in my dire distress, I stepped 
 back and whispered a word to old Admiral Beaufort, who was the 
 kindest-looking of the party. 
 
 " ' "What is he saying — what does he want V said the King, who 
 partly overheard the whisper. 
 
 " ' Mr. Sickleton remarks, your Majesty, that he will need assist- 
 ance to exhibit his invention — that he requires some one to work ths 
 pump.' 
 
 " ' Then w^hy didn't he bring hands with him ?' said the King, testily, 
 ' I suppose the machine is not self-acting, and that he knew that before 
 he came here.' 
 
 " I thought I'd have fainted at this rebuke from the lips of Royalty 
 itself, and so I stammered out some miserable excuse about not knowing 
 if I were empowered to have brought aid — my ignorance of Court eti- 
 quette — in fact, I blundered — and so far, that the King cut me short, b}'- 
 saying, ' Take those people there, Sir, and don't delay us ;' pointing to 
 the two gentlemen in cocked hats, bags, and swords, that looked as if 
 they could have danced on my grave with delight. 
 
 " In a flm'ry — compared to which a fever was composure-^I instructed 
 my two new assistants in the duty, and stationing myself with the hose 
 to direct the operation of the jet, I gave the word to begin. Well ! 
 instead of a great dash of watei* spurting out some fifty feet in height, 
 and fizzing through the air like a rocket, there came a trickling, mise- 
 rable dribble, that puddled at ray very feet ! I thought the sucker was 
 clogged — the piston stopped — the valves impeded — twenty things did I 
 fancy — but the sober truth was, these gilded rascals wouldn't do more 
 than touch the crank with the tips of their fingers, and barely put suffi- 
 cient force in the pressure to move the arm up and down. ' Work it 
 harder, put more strength to it,' I whispered, in mortal fear to be 
 overheard, but they never minded me in the least. Indeed, I almost 
 think one fellow winked his eye ironically when I addressed him. 
 
 " * Eh — what !' said the King, after ten minutes of an exhibition that 
 
246 ROLA^^D CASHEL. 
 
 were to me ten years at the galleys, ' these pumps do next to nothing. 
 They mal^e noise enough, but don't bring up any water at all.' 
 
 *^ The First Lord shook his head in assent. Old Beauclerk made me 
 a sign to give up the trial, and the Post Captain blurted out, in a half 
 whisper, something about a ' blundering son of a dog's wife,' that nearly 
 drove me mad. 
 
 " ' I say, Sickleton,' said the King, ' your invention's not worth the 
 sawder it cost you. You couldn't sprinkle the ' Geraniums' yonder in 
 three weeks with it.' 
 
 ** ' It's all the fault of these d d buffers, please your majesty,' said 
 
 I, driven clean out of my senses by failure and disgrace— and, to be sure, 
 as hearty a roar of laughter followed as ever I listened to in my life — 
 * if they'd only bear a hand and work the crank as I showed them' — 
 As I spoke, I leaned over, and took hold of the crank myself, letting the 
 hose rest on my shoulder. 
 
 *' With two vigorous pulls, I filled the pistons full, and, at the third, 
 rush went the stream with the force of a congreve — not, indeed, over 
 the trees, as I expected, but full in the face of the First Lord ; scarcely 
 was his cry uttered, when a fourth dash laid him full upon his back, 
 drenched from head to foot, and nearly senseless from the shock. The 
 King screamed with laughing — the Admiral shouted — the old Post Cap- 
 tain swore — and I, not knowing one word of all that was happening be- 
 hind my back, worked away for the bare life, till the two footmen, at a 
 signal from the Admiral, laid hold of me by main force, and dragged me 
 away, the perspiration dripping from my forehead, and my uniform all 
 in rags by the exertion. 
 
 "* Get away as fast as you can. Sir," whispered old B., and thank 
 God if your day's work only puts you at the end of the list. I followed 
 the counsel — I don't know how — I never could recollect one event from 
 that moment — till I awoke the next morning at my aunt's cottage at 
 Blackwall, and saw my coat in tatters, and the one epaulette hanging by 
 a thread ; then I remembered my blessed invention, and I think I 
 showed good pluck by not going clean out of my mind." 
 
 Tliere was an earnestness in poor SicUeton's manner that effectually 
 repressed any mirth on Cashel's part — indeed, his sense of the ludicrous 
 gave way before his feeling of sorrow, for the hard fortune of the man 
 without a friend. In the partial civilisation of the far west, personal 
 prowess and energy were always enough to secure any man's success — 
 but, here, each day's experience taught him how much was to be laid to 
 the score of family — of fortune— name— address — and the thousand 
 other accessories of fortune. He had just begun to express his wonder 
 

ROLAND CASHEL. 247 
 
 that Sickleton had never tried life in the New World, when the mate ap- 
 peared at the cabin-door, to say, that a shore boat was rowing out to the 
 yacht. 
 
 A movement of impatience broke from Sickleton. " More of 'em, 
 I suppose," cried he; " we've had such a lot of sight-seers this morning, 
 since we dropped anchor I Most of them affecting to be intimate 
 friends of yours, and all so well acquainted with your habits of life, 
 that I should have become perfectly informed on every particular of 
 your private history, only by listening." 
 
 " The chances are," broke in Cashel, " I did not personally know a 
 man amongst them." 
 
 " I half suspect as much. They spoke far too confidently to be au- 
 thentic. One would have it you were half ruined already, and had got 
 the yacht over to clear away, and be ofiP. Another, that you were go- 
 ing to be married to a lady with an immense fortune, a rumour con- 
 tradicted by a third saying it was an attorney's daughter without a 
 shlUing." 
 
 " There's a lady I see. Sir, coming on board," said the steward, put- 
 ting in his head once more. 
 
 " I'd swear there was," growled Sickleton. 
 
 " You give them luncheon, I hope ?" said Cashel, smiling at the 
 other's impatience. 
 
 " Yes, — we've had something like an ordinary here, to-day, and as 
 I heard that to-morrow would be busier still, I have had my boat go- 
 ing backwards and forwards all the morning to prepare." 
 
 '' I am desired to show you this card, Sir,'' said the mate, handing 
 one to Sickleton, who passed it to Cashel. 
 
 " Lord KilgofF — indeed !" said he, surprised, and at once hastened 
 to the deck. 
 
 '^ Mr. Cashel, himself, here !" exclaimed my Lady, from the stern of 
 a small boat alongside, and after an interchange of friendly recognition, 
 the party ascended the gangway. 
 
 " This was a pleasure we scarcely looked for, to meet you here," 
 said his Lordship, blandly. " We had just taken our drive down to the 
 harbour, when accidentally hearing your yacht had arrived. Lady Kil- 
 goff grew desirous to see it." 
 
 "A yacht in harbour, is a horse in stable," said Cashel, — '-'will 
 you permit me to give you a cruise ?" 
 
 '' I should like nothing in the world so well." 
 
 "It is late, — almost six o'clock," said Lord Kilgoff, looking at his 
 watch. 
 
 " And if it be ?" said my Lady, coaxingly, " you know Dr. Grover 
 
248 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 recommended you the sea air, and sea excursions. I declare you look 
 better already ; don't you think so, Mr. Cashel ?" 
 
 " I protest I do," said Cashel, thus appealed to, " and if you will 
 only pardon the deficiencies of a floating cuisine, and dine here — " 
 
 " How delightful !" broke in my Lady, not suffering even time for an 
 apology. 
 
 " It appears to me there was a haunch of venison hanging over the 
 stern when we came on board," said my Lord, with his glass to his eye. 
 
 " Yes, my Lord," said Sickleton, touching his hat in salutation, " I've 
 had it there for two hours every day since Tuesday week." 
 
 " And is the wind and the tide, and every thing else as it should be, 
 Mr. Cashel ?" said Lady Kilgoff. 
 
 " Eveiy thing, — when you have only uttered your consent," said he, 
 gallantly. 
 
 " What is this, Sir ?" said my Lord, as, having requested something 
 to drink, Sickleton poured him out a large glass-full of scarcely froth- 
 ing liquid. 
 
 '* Dry champagne, my Lord. Moets." 
 
 " And very excellent, too. Really, Laura, I am very sorry it should 
 be so late, and we were to have dined with Meek at seven — " 
 
 " But, only alone. Ko party, remember that," said she persuasively ; 
 " how easy to send the carriage back with an apology." 
 
 Cashel looked his thanks, but without speaking. 
 
 " Take those red partridges out of ice," said Sickleton, from the cook's 
 galley, "and let us have those Ostend oysters to-day." 
 
 " I yield," said my Lord. " Mr. Cashel must take all the conse- 
 quences of my breach of faith upon himself." 
 
 " I promise to do so, my Lord. 
 
 *•' A pen and ink, and some paper, Mr. Cashel," said her ladyship. 
 
 ** Will you permit me to show you the way," said he, handing her 
 down into the little cabin, whose arrangement was all in the perfection 
 of modern taste and elegance. 
 
 " How beautiful 1" cried she. *'OhI Mr. Cashel, I really do envy 
 you the possession of this fairy ship. You don't know how passionately 
 I love the sea." 
 
 ** There are but few things I could hear you say, with so much plea- 
 sure to me," said Cashel, gazing with a strange feeling of emotion at 
 the brilliant colour and heightened expression of her handsome features. 
 
 " There ! that is finished," said she closing the hastily-written note. 
 " Now, Mr. Cashel, we are yours." Hawever much of course the 
 words were in themselves, her eyes met Cashel's as she spoke them, and 
 as suddenly fell ; while he, taking the letter, left the cabin without 
 speaking — a world of curious conjecture warring in his heart. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 249 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Like * cat and dog ?' not so ! their strife 
 They carried on, like ' man and -wife.' " 
 
 Family Jaus.'' 
 
 It may have easily escaped our reader's memory, that on Roland 
 Cashel's hasty departure from Mr. Kenny feck's, the seeds of a very se- 
 rious schism had been sown in that respectable family; Mrs. Kennyfeck 
 being firmly persuaded that her liege lord had grossly mismanaged his in- 
 fluence over the young proprietor. The girls as resolutely opposed to 
 each other, and all, with a most laudable unanimity agreed in thinking 
 that Aunt Fanny " had spoiled every thing," and that but for her odious 
 interference, there never would have arisen the slightest coolness between 
 them and their distinguished acquaintance. 
 
 " I may lose the Agency !" said Mr. Kennyfeck, with a sigh of afflict- 
 ing sincerity. 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder if he avoids the house," quoth his wife. 
 
 " He evidently rejects all attempts at domination," said Miss Kenny- 
 feck, with a glance at her Aunt. Olivia said nothing ; but it was 
 not difficult to see that her thoughts were full of the theme. Mean- 
 while, Miss O'Hara, in all the dignity of injured rectitude, sat seemingly 
 unconscious of the popular feeling against her, repeating from time to 
 time the ominous words, "we shall see — we shall see," a species of 
 prophetic warning that come what may, can always assert its accomplish- 
 ment. 
 
 With such elements of discord and discontent, the breakfast pro- 
 ceeded gradually, and the broken attempts to talk had subsided into a 
 sullen silence, when the butler entered to say, that Mr. Phillis begged 
 to speak a few words with Mr. Kennyfeck. 
 
 " Let him come in here," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, as her husband was 
 risinsr to leave the room. " I think if there are to be no more blunders, 
 we had better be present at the conference." 
 
 " Show him in, Pearse," said Mr. Kennyfeck in a meek voice ; and 
 the gentleman's gentleman entered, in all that easy self-sufficiency so 
 peculiar to his class. 
 
 " What is it, Mr. Phillis ?" said Mrs. Kennyfeck, in a commanding 
 tone, meant to convey the information of " where, the Court sat," and 
 to whom he should address his pleading. 
 
 " It's a Httle matter on which I wanted advice, Ma'am, for I am really 
 
250 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 puzzled how to act. You know. Ma'am, that we are expecting large com- 
 pany at our place in the country — Tubb — something — " 
 
 "Tubbermore," interposed Mr. Kennyfeck. 
 
 " Yes, Sir, Tubbermore. Well ! there have been at least twenty mes- 
 sages this morning from different families, who want to know the best way 
 of going, and when Mr. Cashel means to go himself, and where post- 
 horses are to be had, and how they are to get forward where there are 
 none, and so on ?" 
 
 " Is your master not the person to dictate the answer to these queries?" 
 said Mrs. Kennyfeck, with her grandest air. 
 
 " Of course. Ma'am, but he is not here." 
 
 " Where is he, then?" asked she, eagerly. 
 
 " He's gone, Ma'am, he went last night." 
 
 " Gone — gone where?'' said Mrs. Kennyfeck, with an eagerness no 
 artifice could cover. 
 
 " It's hard to say. Ma'am ; but he went down to Kingstown last night, 
 and sailed in the yacht, and from the preparations and sea store taken 
 from the hotel, it would seem like a long cruise." 
 
 " And did he not mention any thing of his intention to you, Mr. 
 Phillis," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, with a flattering emphasis on the 
 pronoun. 
 
 " A few lines in pencil. Ma'am, dated from, the harbour, was all I 
 received — here they are," and he handed a piece of note paper across 
 the table. 
 
 The contents ran thus : 
 
 *•' Phillis, send word to Sir Harvey Upton's that I sha'n't dine there 
 to-morrow. Give the bearer of this my dressing-case, and clothes for 
 some days, and have the fourgon ready packed to start for Tubbermore, 
 on receiving my next orders. 
 
 " R. C— Kingstown Harbour." 
 
 *' And who brought this note ?" said Mrs. Kennyfeck, who fancied 
 she was conducting the inquiry in true judicial form. 
 
 " One of the yacht sailors. Ma'am, he came up, on Lord Kilgoff's 
 carriage." 
 
 " On Lord Kilgoff's carriage — how did that happen ?" 
 
 *' The carriage came in to town, Ma'am, to bring some things my 
 Lady sent for ; at least, so the sailor told me." 
 
 " And were Lord and Lady Kilgoff on board the yacht ?" 
 
 " Yes, Ma'am, they both sailed in her last night." 
 
 As though drawn by some irresistible influence, every eye was now 
 turned to Aunt Fanny, who, up to this, had listened to Mr. Phillis with 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 251 
 
 a breathless attention, and if looks could be translated, eyery glance thus 
 thrown, said plainly, " This is your doing." 
 
 " Are you certain that the yacht has not returned to Kingstown ?" 
 said Miss O'Hara. 
 
 " Perfectly, Ma'am. It blew a storm last night, and the sailors about 
 the harbour told me it was a great chance that any small vessel could 
 outlive the gale." 
 
 Olivia Kennyfeck became deadly pale at these words, and whispered 
 something in her sister's ear. 
 
 " Of course," replied the other, aloud ; then turning to Phillis, said, 
 " Had they a Pilot with them ?" 
 
 " I believe so, Miss, but there are so many contradictory reports, one 
 don't know what to credit ; some say that Lord Kilgoff was greatly op- 
 posed to the cruise, but that her Ladyship insisted, and that in fact they 
 got under weigh at last without my Lord's knowing, and while they 
 were at dinner." 
 
 " It was a fearful night!" said Mr. Kennyfeck, whose mind was entirely 
 engrossed by the one idea. 
 
 *' Take him into the next room, and I'll join you presently," said Mrs. 
 Kennyfeck to her husband, for that keen-sighted lady had remarked the 
 intense interest with which Mr. Phillis listened to every remark made 
 around him. 
 
 " Here's a pretty piece of business," cried she, as the door closed after 
 her husband and the valet ; " and certainly, I must say, we've no one to 
 thank for it but you, Fanny ! " 
 
 " Unquestionably not," echoed Miss Kennyfeck. " Aunt Fanny has 
 the entire merit of this catastrophe." 
 
 " It is most cruel,'* sighed Olivia, as she wiped the tears from her 
 eyes, and bent upon her stern relative a glance of most reproachful 
 sadness. 
 
 " Are you all mad ?" said the assailed individual, her courage and 
 her colour rising together. " How can you pretend to connect me 
 with this disgraceful proceeding ? Here's a case as clearly pre-arranged 
 as ever was heard of." 
 
 " Impossible," cried Mrs. Kennyfeck ; " didn't he invite us only yes- 
 terday to go down to Tubbermore by sea ?" 
 
 "And didn't you yourself offer the only impediment," said Miss 
 Kennyfeck. 
 
 **' You are very cruel, Aunt," sobbed Olivia. 
 
 " You'll drive me out of my senses," said Miss O'Hara, and certainly 
 her look did not belie her words. " I endeavour to rescue you from the 
 
252 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 snares of a young debauchee, who, as you well know, has a wife still 
 living — " 
 
 '' There, I hope you are content now," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, as Olivia 
 fell fainting into her arms ; and the windov/ was thrown open, and 
 all were busied in employing the wonted restoratives for such attacks. 
 Meanwhile hostilities were continued, but in a less rigorous fashion. 
 " You know you've ruined every thing — you know well how your offi- 
 cious meddling has destroyed this poor child's fortune — rub her temples, 
 Gary." 
 
 " I know that he is a dissipated, abandoned wretch, that would desert 
 her to-morrow as he has done that unhappy — " 
 
 *' Hush, she is coming to. You want to kill her." 
 
 " Humph," muttered Aunt Fanny, " this scene might be very effective 
 with the young gentleman, but is quite thrown away upon me.'' 
 
 ** Aunt ! Aunt!" cried Miss Kennyfeck reprovingly. 
 
 ^' If we had just followed our own counsels, we should have this very 
 hour been on the way to Tubbermore, perhaps never to leave it T' 
 
 Aunt Fanny shook her head. 
 
 " Yes. You may affect to doubt and hesitate, and all that, but where is 
 the wonderful condescension in a Mr. Cashel proposing for the grand 
 niece of Roger Miles O'Hara of Kilmurray O'Hara of Mayo, the second 
 cousin of Lawrence O'Hara Kelly, that ought to be Lord Bally Kelly." 
 
 *• Fairly enough, if that was all," slipped in Miss O'Hara, hoping to 
 escape from all danger, by climbing up the genealogical tree whereon 
 her sister was perched. 
 
 " If that was all !"' repeated Mrs. Kennyfeck indignantly, catching at 
 the last words, " and what more is wanting? I'd be glad to ask. But to 
 be sure it was rather a mistake to call to our counsels, in such a case, one 
 that never could succeed in her own." 
 
 This terrible taunt at Miss O'Hara's celibacy didn't go unpunished, for, 
 throwing all attempts at conciliation behind her, she rose, with flashing 
 eyes and trembling lips. 
 
 " So, it is you that tell me this," said she, "yow, that dare to sneer at 
 my being unmarried — you, that were fain to take up with a Dublin at- 
 torney — poor Tom Kennyfeck — the hack of the quarter sessions, serving 
 
 latitats and tithe notices over the country in his old gig Indeed, 
 
 girls, I'm sorry to speak that way of your father, but it's well known — " 
 
 A loud shriek interrupted the speech, and Mrs. Kennyfeck, in strong 
 hysterics, took her place beside Olivia. 
 
 " It will do her good, my dear," said Aunt Fanny to her niece, as 
 she chafed the hands and bathed the temples of her mother. " I was 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 253 
 
 only telling the truth ; she'd never have married your father if Major 
 Kennedy hadn't jilted her, and good luck it was he did, for he had two 
 other wives living at the time — just as your friend, Mr. Cashel, wanted 
 to do with your sister." 
 
 " Aunt — aunt — I entreat you to have done. Hav'n't you made mis- 
 chief enough ?'* 
 
 " Eaten up with vanity and self-conceit," resumed the old lady, not 
 heeding the interruption. " A French cook and a coach-in-four — no- 
 thing less ! Let her scream, child — sure I know it's good for her — it 
 stretches the lungs." 
 
 " Leave me — leave the room !" cried Miss Kennyfeck, whose efforts at 
 calmness were rendered fruitless by the torrent of her aunt's eloquence. 
 
 *' Indeed I will, ray dear ; I'll leave the house too. Sorry I am that 
 I ever set foot in it. What with the noise and the racket night and 
 day, it's more like a lunatic- asylum than a respectable residence." 
 
 *' Send her away — send her away," screamed Mrs. Kennyfeck, with 
 a cry of horror. 
 
 " Do, aunt — do leave the room." 
 
 " I'm going — I'm going, young lady ; but I suppose I may drink my 
 cup of tea first — it's the last I'll ever taste in the same house," and she 
 reseated herself at the table with a most provoking composure. '' I 
 came here," resumed she, " for no advantage of mine. I leave you 
 without regret, because I see how' your poor fool of a father, and your 
 vain, conceited mother — " 
 
 *' Aunt, you are really too bad. Have you no feeling ?" 
 
 " That's just what comes of it," said she, stirring her tea tranquilly. 
 " You set up for people of fashion, and you don't know that people of 
 fashion are twice as shrewd and 'cute as yourself. Faith, my dear, 
 they'd buy and sell you, every one. What are they at all day, but 
 roguery and schemes of one kind or other, and then after ' doing' you, 
 home they go, and laugh at your mother's vulgarity I" 
 
 A fresh torrent of cries from Mrs. Kennyfeck seemed to show that 
 unconsciousness was not among her symptoms, and Miss Kennyfeck 
 now hastened from the room to summon her father to her aid. 
 
 " Well, you've come to turn me out, I suppose ?" said Aunt Fanny, 
 as the old gentleman entered in a state of perplexity that might have 
 evoked the compassion of a less determined enemy. 
 
 " My dear Miss Fanny — " 
 
 '•None of your Four Court's blarney with me. Sir; I'm ready to go 
 — I'll leave by the coach to-night. I conclude you'll have the decency 
 to pay for my place, and my dinner, too, for I'll go to Dawson's Hotel 
 this minute. Tell your mother, and that poor dawdle there, your sister. 
 
254 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 that they'd be thankful they'd have followed my advice. The rate 
 you're living, old gentleman, might even frighten you. There's more 
 waste in your kitchen than in Lord Clondooney's. As for yourself, 
 Caroline, you're the best of the lot ; but your tongue, darling ? — your 
 tongue !" And here she made a gesture of far more expressive force 
 than any mere words could give. 
 
 " Is she gone ?"said Mrs. Kennyfeck, as a slight lull succeeded . 
 
 " Yes, Mamma," whispered Miss Kennyfeck, " but speak low, for 
 Mr. Phillis is in the hall." 
 
 " I'll never see her again — I'll never set eyes on her," muttered Mrs. 
 Kennyfeck. 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder. Mamma, if that anonymous letter was written 
 by herself," said Caroline. "She never forgave Mr. Cashel for not 
 specially inviting her ; and this, I'm almost sure, was the way she took 
 to revenge herself." 
 
 " So it was," cried Mrs. Kennyfeck, eagerly seizing at the notion. 
 " Hush, take care Livy doesn't hear you." 
 
 " As for the yacht expedition, it was just the kind of thing Lady 
 Kilgoff was ready for. She is dying to be talked of." 
 
 " And that poor, weak creature, Cashel, will be so flattered by the soft 
 words of a peeress, hell be intolerable ever after." 
 
 " Aunt Fanny — Aunt Fanny !" sighed Miss Kennyfeck, with a mourn- 
 ful cadence.'* 
 
 " If I only was sure — that is, perfectly certain that she wrote that letter 
 about Cashel — but here comes your father — take Olivia and leave me 
 alone." 
 
 Miss Kennyfeck assisted her sister from the sofa, and led her in silence 
 from the room, while Mr. Kennyfeck sat down, with folded hands and 
 bent-down head, a perfect picture of dismay and bewilderment. 
 
 " Well," said his wife, after a reasonable interval of patient expecta- 
 tion that he would speak, " well, what have you to say for yourself, now. 
 Sir ?" 
 
 The poor solicitor, who never suspected that he was under any indict- 
 ment, looked up with an expression of almost comic innocence. 
 
 *'Did you hear me, Mr. Kennyfeck, or is it that you want to pass off 
 your dullness for deafness. Did you hear me, I say ?" 
 
 " Yes, I heard — but I really do not know — that is I am unaware how 
 —I cannot see — " 
 
 " Oh, the old story," sighed she, " injured innocence ! Well, Sir, I 
 was asking you if you felt gratified with our present prospects. Linton's 
 intimacy was bad enough — but the Kilgoff friendship is absolute — utter 
 ruin. That crafty, old, undermining Peer, as proud as poor, will soon 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 255 
 
 ensnare him, and my lady, with her new airs of a Viscountess, only 
 anxious to qualify for London, by losing her character before she ap- 
 pears there I" 
 
 " As to the agency." 
 
 " The agency !" echoed she. Indignantly, " do your thoughts never 
 by any chance, Sir, take a higher flight than five per cent. ; ai'e you 
 always dreaming of your little petty gains at rent-day? I told you, Sir, 
 how the patron might be converted into a son-in-law — did I not ?" 
 
 ** You did, indeed, and I'm certain I never threw any impediment in 
 the way of it." 
 
 " You never threw any Impediment in the way of your child's succeed- 
 ing to a fortune of sixteen thousand a year ! You really are an exem- 
 plary father." 
 
 " I'd have forwarded it, if I only knew how.'* 
 
 "How good of you. I suppose you'd have drawn up the settlements 
 if ordered. But so it is — all my efforts through life have been thwarted 
 by you ! I have laboured and toiled day and night to place my children 
 in the sphere that their birth, on one side at least, would entitle them 
 to, and you know it." 
 
 Now this Mr. Kennyfeck really did not know. In his dull fatuity 
 he always imagined that he was the honey gatherer of the domestic hive, 
 and that Mrs. Kennyfeck had in her own person monopolised the fea- 
 tures of Queen Bee and Wasp together. 
 
 " Your low, pettifogging ambition never soared above a Softly or a 
 Clare Jones for your daughters, while I was planning alliances that would 
 have placed them among the best in the land, and how have I been 
 rewarded! Indifference, coolness, perhaps contempt !" here a flood of 
 tears that had remained dammed up since the last torrent, burst forth In 
 convulsive sobs. " UngTateful man, who ought never to have forgotten 
 the sacrifice I made in marrying him — the rupture with every member 
 of my family — the severance of every tie that united me to my own." 
 
 She ceased, and here, be it remembered, Mrs. Kennyfeck seemed to 
 address herself to some invisible jury empanelled to try Mr. Kennyfeck 
 on a serious charge. 
 
 " He came like a serpent into the bosom of our peaceful circle, and 
 with the arts that his crafty calling but too well supplied, seduced my 
 young affections." 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck started. It had never before occurred to him that 
 Don Juan was among his range of parts. 
 
 " False and imfeeling both," resumed she. " Luring with promises 
 never intended for performance, you took me from a home, the very 
 sanctuary of peace !" 
 
256 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck wiped his forehead in perplexity, his recollection of the 
 home in question was different. Sanctuary, it might have been, but it 
 was against the officers of the law and the sheriff, and so far as a well 
 fastened hall door and barricaded windows went, the epithet did not seem 
 quite unsuitable. 
 
 " Ah !" sighed she, for it is right to remark that Mrs. Kennyfeck was a 
 mistress of that domestic harmony, which consists in every modulation, 
 from the grand adagio of indignant accusation, to the rattling andante 
 of open abuse; "had I listened to those older and wiser than me, and 
 who foretold the destiny that awaited me, I had never seen this unhappy 
 day ! No, Sir ! I had not lived to see myself outraged and insulted, 
 and my only sister turned out of the house like a discarded menial." 
 
 Had Mr. Kennyfeck been informed that for com'teously making way 
 for a Bencher in the hall, that he was stripped of his gown and degraded 
 from his professional rank, he could not have been more thoroughly 
 amazed and thunderstruck. He actually gasped with excess of astonish- 
 ment, and, if breath had been left him, would have spoken ; but so it 
 was, the very force of the charge stunned him, and he could not utter a 
 word. 
 
 Meanwhile Mrs. Kennyfeck, who, in the ardour of combat, had imitated 
 certain Spanish sailors, who, in the enthusiasm of a sea-fight, loaded 
 their cannons with whatever came next to hand, was actually shocked 
 by the effect of her own fire. For the grandeur of a peroration she 
 had taken a flying leap over all truth, and would gladly have been safe 
 back again at the other side of the fence. 
 
 For an instant not a word dropped from either side, and it was clear 
 that he who spoke first had gained the victory. This was the lady. 
 
 " Go, Sir" — and she wiped her eyes v/ith that calm dignity by which a 
 scolding wife seems to call up all Christian forgiveness of herself, and 
 stand acquitted before her own conscience — "go, Sir, and find out 
 what these people that Cashel has invited mean to do ; and if it be their 
 intention to j-epair to Tubbermore, let us lose no time in setting out ; 
 and if we are to go, Mr. Kennyfeck, let us do so as becomes us." 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck stifled a rising sigh — for he knew what the words 
 denoted— and departed ; while Mrs. Kennyfeck, with her heart hghtened 
 of a heavy load, rose to join her daughters, and discuss dress and 
 " toilette," the great commissariat of the approaching campaign. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 257 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 " Tut, never mind the swell, love, 
 The sails may sweep the brine ; 
 But the craft will steer as well, love, 
 With your soft hand in mine." 
 
 " The Cruise." 
 
 It was upon a delicious eveDing, a little before sunset, that a yacht 
 worked out of the harbour of Kingstown, all her canvass spread to catch 
 the light air of wind, which scarcely ruffled the glassy surface of the 
 Bay. The craft, with her snow-white sails, her tall and taper spars, 
 her gay bunting from gaff and peak, was all that the scene wanted to 
 render it a perfect picture ; and so, to all seeming, thought the many 
 spectators who crowded the pier and the shore, and gazed with ad- 
 miration at the graceful vessel, as she glided silently above her own 
 image in the water. 
 
 Various were the comments and criticisms from those who surveyed 
 her course ; some, in wondering conjecture whither she was bound ; 
 others, not a whit better informed, boldly affecting some secret know- 
 ledge of her destination, and even, by such petty pretension, assuming 
 airs of superiority. 
 
 " She belongs to that rich young fellow, Roland Cashel," said one of 
 these ; " who, by the way, is getting through his fortune tolerably fast. 
 The story goes, that he has spent two hundred thousand already, and 
 is boiTOwing at immense interest." 
 
 " Wasn't he a smuggler, or a privateer's-man ; or something of the 
 
 kind r 
 
 " No ; he made all the money in the slave-trade." 
 
 *• I always heard that he succeeded to a landed estate," softly in- 
 sinuated a modest-looking old gentleman. 
 
 " Not at all. Sir. Such, I am aware, was the common belief; the 
 fact, however, is, that he had invested large sums In land, and was then 
 able to escape the scrutiny many would have instituted regarding the 
 origin of his wealth." 
 
 " Who is it he is always riding with about town ; a handsome girl, 
 on a brown horse ?" 
 
 *' On a gray, you mean ?" 
 
 *' No, a brown, with a bang tail." 
 
 " No, no, it's a gray. She's a daughter of Tom Kennyfeck, the 
 attorney." 
 
 s 
 
258 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " The gentleman is right," interposed a third. I've seen him very 
 often, with a lady mounted on a brown thoroughbred." 
 
 " Oh ! that's Lady Kilgoff, the handsomest woman in Ireland." 
 
 " She was much better looking two years ago," simpered out an 
 Ensign, affectedly. " I used to dance with her and her sister, at the 
 race balls at Ashby." 
 
 The group immediately fell back, in tacit acknowledgment of the 
 claims of one so aristocratically associated. 
 
 " Didn't you know her, Hipsley ?" lisped out the Ensign to a brother 
 officer, who was admiring a very green baby on the arm of a very 
 blooming nursery-maid : " You knew the Craycrofts, didn't you ?" 
 
 " Lady Kilgoff 's maiden name, Sir, was Gardiner," said the timid old 
 gentleman who spoke before. The Ensign stuck his glass in one eye, 
 and gazed at him for a second or two, with consummate effrontery, 
 and then, in a voice intended for the most cutting drollery, said, 
 
 " Are you certain it wasn't ' Snooks ?' " a rejoinder so infinitely 
 amusing, that the bystanders laughed immoderately, and the bashful 
 man retired, overwhelmed in confusion. 
 
 " They're off for a good long cruise," said one, looking through his 
 pocket telescope at the yacht, which now was steering to the south- 
 ward, with a fresher breeze. 
 
 " I suspect so. They took on board five or six hampers from the 
 hotel, just before they sailed." 
 
 A very warm controversy now arose, as to where the yacht was 
 bound for, and who were the parties who went aboard of her in the 
 harbour ; points which, in the absence of all real knowledge, admitted 
 of a most animated debate. Meanwhile, an old, weather-beaten sailor, 
 in a pilot coat, continued to gaze alternately from the sky to the sea, 
 and back again, and at last murmured to himself, 
 
 *' They'll catch it before midnight, if they don't haul their wind, and 
 get into shelter." 
 
 Some drifting clouds, dropping slight rain as they passed, soon after 
 cleared the pier of its loiterers, and night fell, dark and starless, 
 while the wind freshened, and the sea fretted and chafed upon the rocks, 
 and even sent its spray high against the strong lighthouse. 
 
 Let us now quit the shore, and bear company with the party on 
 board, who, having dined sumptuously, sat sipping their coffee on deck, 
 while the swift craft skimmed the calm waters of the Bay, and un- 
 folded in her course the beautiful panorama of the shore. The bold 
 steep bluff of Brayhead, the curved strand of Killiney, the two " Sugar 
 Loafs" rising from the bosom of dark woods, and, in the distance, the 
 higher chain of the Wicklow mountains, while on the opposite side 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 259 
 
 Howth seemed like a blue island studding'tlie clear surface of tlie Bay. 
 Lord Kilgoff and Mr. Sickleton paid but passing attention to the 
 bright picture around. A learned discussion on naval matters, wherein 
 my Lord took the opportunity of storing his mind with a goodly stock 
 of technicals, to be used at some future occasion, occupied them alto- 
 gether, leaving her Ladyship and Roland Cashel to the undisturbed 
 enjoyment of the scene and its associations. 
 
 They paid the highest tribute the picturesque can exact — they sat in 
 silence watching the changing tints, which from red faded to violet, 
 then gray, and at last grew dark with closing night, while the wind 
 freshening sent the sea rushing swiftly past, and made their light craft 
 heave and pitch heavily. 
 
 " We are returning to Kingstown, I trust," said my Lord to Sickle- 
 ton, who had left him for a moment to give orders about shortening 
 sail. " It appears to me like a threatening night." 
 
 " It looks dirty, my Lord," said Sickleton, drily, as he walked aft 
 with the Pilot, and conferred with him in a low tone. 
 
 " Are we making for Kingstown, Mr. Cashel ?" said my Lord, in a 
 voice he was not able to divest of anxiety. 
 
 *' I believe not," said Cashel, rising, and approaching the compass. 
 "No, we are lying down Channel straight as we can go." 
 
 " Aye, and very well for us that we can do it," growled out the Pilot, 
 *' If we make the Hook Light before we tack, I shall say we're lucky." 
 
 " Does he mean there is any danger, Mr. Cashel ?" said Lady Kilgoff, 
 but in a voice devoid of tremor. 
 
 *' None whatever, but I am sadly distressed at having carried you out 
 so far, since I find that in the present state of the tide, and with the 
 wind still driving more to the north, we cannot bear up for Kingstown, 
 but must run along the shore." 
 
 " Think nothing of that," said she, gaily ; '' real peril I have no 
 fancy for — a mere inconvenience is of no moment whatever ;" but here 
 she dropped her voice very low, "say something to my Lord, give him 
 some encouragement.'* 
 
 " it blows fresh, my Lord, and if it were not for the trespass on your 
 comfort, I should almost rejoice at the occasion of showing you my 
 yacht's qualities as a sailing- boat." 
 
 " I should prefer taking your word for them, Sir," said Lord Kilgoff, 
 tartly ; " a pleasure trip is one thing, a night in a small vessel exposed 
 to a heavy gale is another." 
 
 " You're right, my Lord," said the Pilot, who heard but a part of the 
 observation ; " it will be a gale before morning." 
 
 " Luff! luff, there !" shouted Sickleton, and at the same instant 
 
 82 
 
260 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 a heavy sea thundered against the bow and broke over the fore part of 
 the vessel with a crashing sound. 
 
 " I think when we see the lighthouse of Kingstown so near us," said 
 Lord Kilgoff, " there ought to be no great difficulty in returning." 
 
 " That's not the harbour-light you see yonder, that's the Kish, my 
 Lord," said the Pilot ; " keep her up, my man, keep her up, the wind is 
 freshening." 
 
 " Will you indeed forgive me for this disastrous turn of our cruise ?" 
 said Cashel, as he fastened his boat-cloak around Lady Kilgoff 's throat, 
 after several vain efforts to induce her to go below. 
 
 " If you only prevent my lord from scolding, I shall enjoy it im- 
 mensely," said she, in a half whisper. 
 
 " I trust, Lady Kilgoff," said his Lordship, approaching, and steady-* 
 ing himself by the bulwarks, that this night's experience will induce you 
 to distrust your own judgment when in opposition to mine. I foresaw 
 the whole of it. It is now blowing a fierce gale — " 
 
 " Not a bit of it, my Lord," interposed the Pilot, bluntly ; " but it 
 will blow great guns 'fore daybreak, or I'm mistaken." 
 
 " And where shall we be then ?" asked my Lord, querulously. 
 
 " Rayther hard to tell," said the Pilot, laughing. " If she be as 
 good a sea-boat as they say, and that we don't carry away any of our 
 spars, we may run for Cove. I take it " 
 
 " For Cove ! Gracious mercy ! and if she be not as good a vessel as 
 it is said she is, Sir, what then, pray ?" 
 
 The Pilot made no reply, but gave orders to set the jib, as she was 
 labouring too much by the head. 
 
 The wind increased, and with it the sea, which, dividing at the bow, 
 fell in great cataracts over the vessel, sweeping along the entire deck at 
 every plunge she gave. 
 
 " I wish she were a little deeper in the water," whispered Sickleton, 
 to Cashel. " We haven't within fifteen tons of our ballast on board. 
 But she's a sweet craft, ain't she ? Keep her, there — steady man." 
 
 " We couldn't stand round in stays, and bear up for the harbour ?" 
 asked Cashel, on whom Lord Kilgoff's face of misery had made a 
 strong impression. 
 
 " Impossible ! At least the Pilot, who knows this coast well, sa} s 
 there is a shore current here runs eight knots." 
 
 " What shall we do with him ; he'll scarce live through the night." 
 
 " Let us get him down below, and, once snug in a berth, he'll fall 
 asleep, and forget every thing." 
 
 Cashel shook his head doubtfully, but determined to try the plan at 
 all hazards. 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 261 
 
 " Would my Lord be persuaded to lie down, do you think," said Ro- 
 land, approaching Lady Kilgoff, who, enveloped in the folds of the 
 heavy boat-cloak, sat calm and collected near the wheel. 
 
 " Is there danger V" asked she, hurriedly. 
 
 " Not the least ; but he seems so ill, and every sea rushes over him 
 as he stands. 
 
 " You should go down, my dear Lord," said she, addressing him ; 
 " Mr. Cashel is afraid you'll catch cold here." 
 
 *'Ah, is he, indeed?" said Lord Kilgoff, in a snappish asperity. 
 ** He is too good to bestow a thought upon me." 
 
 " I am only anxious, my Lord, that you shouldn't suffer from your 
 complaisance so unhappily rewarded." 
 
 " Very kind, exceedingly kind. Sir. It is as you say, most unhappy, 
 a perfect storm — a hurricane. Gracious mercy, what's that?" 
 
 This exclamation was caused by a loud smash, like the report of a 
 cannon-shot, and at the same instant the taper top-mast fell crashing 
 down, with all its cordage clattering round it. The confusion of the 
 accident, the shouting of voices, the thundering splash of the sea, as, 
 the peak having fallen, the craft had lost the steadying influence of the 
 main sail, all seemed to threaten immediate danger. Cashel was about 
 to spring forward and assist in cutting away the entangled rigging, 
 when he felt his hand firmly grasped by another, whose taper fingers left 
 no doubt to whom it belonged. 
 
 " Don't be alarmed — it is nothing," whispered he, encouragingly ; 
 *' the mishap is repaired in a second." 
 
 " You'll not leave me," said she, in a low tone, which thrilled through 
 every fibre of his heart. He pressed her hand more closely, and tried, 
 but in vain, to catch a glimpse at her face. 
 
 Meanwhile, the disordered rigging had been repaired, and two men, 
 under Sickleton's direction, lifting the drooping and scarce conscious 
 Peer from the deck, carried him down below. 
 
 If the old instincts of Roland Cashel's sailor life would have rendered 
 the scene interesting to him, w^atching as he did the way his craft " be- 
 haved," and marking well the fine qualities she possessed as a sea-boat, 
 there was another and far more intense feeling then occupying him as 
 he stood close beside that swathed and muffled figure, who, pale and 
 silent, marked by some gesture, from time to time, her dependence upon 
 him. To Roland, the rattle of the gale, the hissing sea, the strained 
 and creaking cordage, all, not only brought back old memories of his 
 once life, but effectually seemed to dispel the colder mood of mind, 
 which admixture with a world of fashion had impressed upon him. 
 He was again, if not in reality, in heart and spirit the bold Buc- 
 
262 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 caneer that walked the western seas, bursting with life, and eager for 
 adventure. Every plunge that sent the bowsprit down, every squall that 
 bent the taper mast, and laid the vessel half seas under, inspirited and 
 excited him, not the less than the wild storm called forth every form of 
 encouragement to her, who vibrated between actual terror and a strange 
 sense of delight. 
 
 Roland lay at her feet, partly as a barrier against the surging water 
 that, breaking over the bow, swept the entire deck, partly that he might 
 mark those beauteous features, on which the binnacle light occasionally 
 cast its glare. 
 
 " It is fine," murmured she, in a low soft voice, " and I ahnost feel 
 as if my own terrors should serve to heighten the sense of ecstasy. I 
 tremble while I delight in it." 
 
 There was an expression of intense excitement In her eyes as she 
 spoke, and her pale features for an instant flushed, as Roland's look met 
 hers. 
 
 " How I glory in your words," cried he, wild with enthusiasm ; " I 
 feel like one who suddenly awakes to life out of some long and dreary 
 sleep — rather this is the sleep — this is itself the vision in which I lie, here, 
 beneath your smile, while we are borne onward through the hissing 
 foam. Oh, would it but last — would that this dark and starless night 
 could be for years, and that we might thus cleave the black waters on 
 and on." 
 
 " And whither to ?" asked she, in a whisper scarcely breathed. 
 
 "Whither to ?" echoed he, " what matters it, while we journey thus. 
 The sun-tipped icebergs of the North Sea, or the rosy mountains of the 
 Spice Island ; the balmy shores of Quito, or the bleak coast of Labra- 
 dor — all are alike to me." 
 
 " A large vessel under the lee !" sung out a voice from the bow, 
 and the cry was repeated still louder, while the Pilot shouted, " Show a 
 light at the mast-head ; put your helm hard up." The double com- 
 mand was scarce obeyed, when a huge black mass heaved past them, 
 her great yards almost seeming to grate the cordage. The looming 
 size of the immense object that towered over head, and the death-like 
 stillness of the yacht's crew till the danger was past, thrilled with a cold 
 terror through her, and instinctively she grasped Roland's hand more 
 closely. The gale had now become furious, and as the light spars were 
 barely able to sustain even the little canvass spread, the sea swept over 
 the vessel as she lay storm-tossed and scarce navigable. The hatches 
 were fastened down, the boats strongly secured — and every precaution of 
 seamanship adopted ; and so long as these were in performance, and a 
 certain activity and bustle prevailed, so long did Lady Kilgoff's courage 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 263 
 
 appear to support her; but when all was done and the men resumed 
 their places in watchful silence, and her mind was left to the contem- 
 plation of the raging hurricane alone, she seemed to sink, and, with a 
 faint low sigh, glided from the seat and fell fainting to the deck. 
 
 " You cannot take her below," said Sickleton, as Cashel, raising her 
 in his arms, was about to carry her to the cabin ; "we dare not open 
 the hatches — see, there it comes again!" and, as he said, a great wave 
 broke over the vessel's quarter and fell in torrents over the deck, washing 
 as it receded several loose spars overboard. By the aid of coats and 
 cloaks innumerable, Cashel, at last, succeeded in enveloping the fair 
 form beside him, and supporting her head upon his arm as he sat ; he 
 saw, to his unspeakable delight, that she soon dropped into a calm 
 sleep. 
 
 " This is a disastrous bit of pleasuring," said Sickleton, as he stood 
 holding on by one of the braces ; " who could have supposed such a gale 
 was brewing." 
 
 " Well, well," replied Cashel, *' if it comes no worse " 
 
 " If it does, we can't stand through it, that's all," said the Lieutenant 
 drily ; " the old Pilot says we shall have to make a tack to keep clear of 
 the Hook, but what boat can sail on a wind with a storm-jib and three- 
 reefed topsail !" 
 
 " She behaves nobly," said Roland, as he gazed at the sleeping form, 
 to guard which seemed all his care. 
 
 Sickleton mistook the remark, and said, "Aye, that I knew she 
 would ; but the sea is tremendous for a small craft, and see how close 
 we have the land under our lee — that black mass yonder." 
 
 " I'd give all I own in the world that she were safe on shore," mur- 
 mured Cashel, not heeding the other's observation ; " I cannot forgive 
 myself for having induced her to venture out." 
 
 The Lieutenant made no reply, but peered for a few seconds through 
 the sky-light of the cabin. " My Lord is lying like a dead man," said 
 he ; " fright and sea-sickness together have nearly done for him, and yet 
 it was only two hours back he thought he'd make a good figure at the 
 Admiralty. There," continued he, " day is breaking yonder, we shall 
 soon know our fate j if the gale freshens after sun-rise it is all up with 
 us." 
 
 " Run the craft in shore and I'll engage to save her,'' said Cashel, 
 eagerly. " I'm a strong swimmer in surf ; I rescued a Malabar girl 
 once, and in a sea nearly as heavy as this." 
 
 Sickleton smiled incredulously, and turned away. 
 
 It is freshening by Jove !'' said he, as a squall struck the vessel, and laid 
 
264 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 her almost on her beam ends, while every plank shivered as though she 
 were rending in pieces. 
 
 *' It's coming stronger, Sir," said the Pilot, as he shook the'sea from his 
 rough coat and bent his gaze steadfastly towards the east ; " I'd rather 
 not see that red sun-rise. Keep her away, man, keep her away." 
 
 " Shall w^e try it ?" muttered Sickleton, to some whispered observa- 
 tions of the other. 
 
 " We may as well," rejoined the Pilot, " she'll never hold steerage 
 way with her present canvass, and if she won't bear the main-sail we must 
 go on shore and no help for it." 
 
 " Bear a hand there, boys," cried Sickleton, " shake out the main- 
 sail." 
 
 " You'll carry away the mast," cried Cashel, as he heard the order. 
 
 " It's like enough," growled the Pilot, " but yonder's the lee shore." 
 
 " I could save her — I'm certain I could save her," said Cashel. 
 
 " He's thinking of the lady !" said the Pilot to Sickleton, and the 
 contemptuous tone showed how humbly he estimated him. 
 
 " Breakers a-head — shoal water," shouted a voice from the bow. 
 
 " 'Bout sliip," cried Sickleton, " stand by sheets and tacks there- 
 down helm. Are ye ready, men ?" and the next moment the obedient 
 vessel spun round, and was cleaving the water on another tack. 
 
 " What is it ? where am I ? — is this a dream ?" said Lady Kilgoff, 
 as she moved back the hair from her eyes, and looked up at Cashel, who 
 for hours had never moved or stirred. 
 
 " To me, it has been a dehcious dream," said Cashel, as he met her 
 glance, and if it were not that you may feel alarmed, it would be still 
 such." 
 
 " What a terrible sea ! Where are we ?" 
 
 " Not far from shore," said Cashel, encouragingly. 
 
 " A devilish deal too near it, though," muttered the Pilot under his 
 breath. 
 
 " Oh, I remember all now. Where is my Lord, Mr. Cashel ? Is 
 he ill?" 
 
 " He's gone below — he is sleeping, I believe. It has been a wild 
 night for i/ou ; and you've passed it here on the deck." 
 
 " Here ?" said she, looking up and blushing, for she still lay sup- 
 ported against Roland, and one of his hands held the boat-cloak across 
 her. 
 
 '* Yes, here," said Cashel, with a voice and manner that made the 
 colour mount to her cheeks and as suddenly desert them again. 
 
 Meanwhile the Lieutenant had gone below, and re-appeared, with 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 265 
 
 a chart, over which he and the Pilot now bent in the deepest considera- 
 tion. 
 
 " Then that must have been the ' Calf Light we saw to the eastward/' 
 said Sickleton, pointing to the map. 
 
 " I'd say so, too," replied the other, " if such a run didn't seem 
 impossible ; but we only tripped our anchor last night, before sun- 
 set " 
 
 " Ten hours, though ! one can do a deal in ten hours !" said the 
 Lieutenant. 
 
 " It may be worth as many years sojnetimes !" said Cashel, in a 
 whisper to her at his side. 
 
 " Breakers right a-head !" shouted the man in the bow. 
 
 " We're among the •' Barrels!' " cried the Pilot, " back the top-sail — 
 down mainsail-^ " 
 
 But it was too late ! Like a sea-bird rising to h's flight, the light 
 craft bounded forward, till her shining copper glanced above the waves, 
 and then, with a spring, dashed onward, amid the foam and spray that 
 rose like a mist around her. The frothy shower flew over the deck, 
 while the hissing water spirted up on every side with a crashing splin- 
 tering sound. The keel came down, and while a loud cry broke forth, 
 " She's struck !" the mast snapped suddenly across, and fell with its 
 draped rigging into the sea. 
 
 "Stand by — cut away the boats!" shouted Sickleton, and seizing 
 a hatchet, gave the example himself, while Cashel, lifting the now life- 
 less form of Lady Kilgoff, placed her in the boat. The confusion and 
 terror became now extreme. The breaking sea already had forced its 
 way through the vessel's bottom, and issued in a clear jet of blue water 
 from the hatchways. The first boat launched was rapidly crowded, and 
 scarcely had it touched the water than it was swamped. For an instant 
 the struggling figures were seen battling with the waves, but, in a mo- 
 ment after, they were gone ! 
 
 Mainly through Sickleton and Cashel's exertions, the second boat 
 was got ready, and just about to be launched, when Roland turned to 
 seek Lord Kilgoff^, whom, up to that moment, he had entirely forgotten. 
 Scarcely had he reached the binnacle, when the old man, pale and 
 almost dead with terror, stood before him. "Is she safe, Sir? — is my 
 lady safe ?" cried he, tremulously. 
 
 " Quite so— come along, there's not a moment to lose." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Cashel, do not leave me !" cried Lady Kilgofi^, as the boat 
 was lifted from its place, and swung by the halyards, from side to 
 side. 
 
266 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " You cannot surely resist that appeal, Sir," said Lord Kilgoff, his 
 withered and worn features flushed with a pang of sudden anger. 
 
 "I must see to your safety, my Lord, or none else is likely to do it," 
 said Cashel, sternly ; and as he spoke he lifted the old man and placed 
 him in the boat. " Stay where you are, Sickleton," cried he to the 
 Lieutenant ; " I'll cut her adrift. So there ! my boys, all together — lar- 
 board now." And as the vessel heaved over to the surge the boat was 
 launched. A shrill cry of terror was heard above the raging storm; for 
 Cashel, in his eagerness to secure the other's safety, had perilled his own, 
 and now the boiling* surf rushed between the yacht and the boat, defying 
 every effort to approach. 
 
 " Never fear for me," said Roland, boldly ; " the distance is short, 
 and I've swam in many a heavier surf." And he swung himself, as he 
 spoke, by a loose stay into the sea. Nobly breasting the mad waves, he 
 was seen at intervals, now breasting the white- crested billows, now deep 
 down in the dark trough of waters. His Indian teaching had taught 
 him, too, to dive at times through the coming surf, and thus escape its 
 force, and so did he emerge from the great mass of waters that seemed 
 almost to have buried him. Bending to the oars, the boat's crew pulled 
 manfully through the tide, and at last gaining a little bay, floated into 
 calm water, just as Cashel had got a footing on a reef of rock, a short 
 distance from land. 
 
 " Safe !" cried he, as he drew his wearied limbs up the little craggy 
 eminence, from which he could see the yacht still storm-lashed and heav- 
 ing, and follow with his eyes the boat, as with bounding speed she 
 made for shore. 
 
 No sooner had Sickleton safely landed his freight, than he put out 
 again to rescue those in the yacht, while Cashel, bruised, bleeding, and 
 torn, made his way slowly to the little hut, where Lord and Lady Kil- 
 goff had taken shelter. 
 
 Hi§ entrance was little noticed. The cabin was full of country 
 people and fishermen — some earnestly profi'ering advice and counsel, 
 others as eagerly questioning all about the recent calamity. In a great 
 straw chair, beside the fire, sat Lord Kilgoff, his head resting on a 
 country woman's shoulder, while another bathed his temples to restore 
 animation. 
 
 " Where is she ?" said Cashel, passionately ; and the tone and look 
 of the speaker turned attention towards him. 
 
 " 'Tis her husband," whispered the woman of the house, curtseying 
 respectfully to the youth, who, in all the torn disorder of his dress, looked 
 the gentleman ; and with that she drew him into an inner room, where 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 267 
 
 upon a low settle lay the pale and scarce breathing form of Lady Kil- 
 goff. 
 
 *•' Don't be afeard, yer honor, she'll be betther in a minute or two. 
 She has more courage than her father there." And she pointed to the 
 outside room where Lord Kilgoff sat. " Indeed, the first word she 
 spoke was about yerself." 
 
 Cashel made a gesture to be silent, and sat down beside the settle, 
 his gaze fixed on the features, which, in their calm loveliness, had never 
 seemed more beautiful . 
 
 The stillness that now reigned in the little cabin, only broken by the 
 low whisperings without — the calm tranquillity so suddenly succeeding 
 to the terrible convulsion — the crowd of sensations pressing on the 
 brain, and, above all, the immense fatigue he had gone through, brought 
 on such a sense of stupor, that Cashel fell heavily on the floor, and, with 
 his head leaning against the settle, fell into a sound sleep. 
 
 Before evening had closed in most of the party had recovered from 
 their fatigues, and sat grouped in various attitudes around the blazing 
 fire of the cabin. In a deep, old-fashioned straw chair, reclined, rather 
 than sat, Lady Kilgoff; a slightly feverish flush lent a brilliancy to her 
 otherwise pale features, deepening the expression of her full soft eyes, and 
 giving a more animated character to the placid beauty of her face. Her 
 hair, in all the loose freedom of its uncared-for state, fell in great volup- 
 tuous masses along her neck and shoulders, while part of a finely-turned 
 arm peeped out beneath the folds of the wide scarlet cloak which the 
 fisherman's wife had lent her in lieu of her own costly " Cashmere." 
 
 Next to her sat Roland, and although dressed in the rough jacket of 
 a sailor, his throat encircled by a rude cravat of coloured worsted, he 
 seemed in the very costume to have regained some of his long lost joy- 
 ousness; and, notwithstanding the sad event of the night, to be in a very 
 ecstasy of high spirits. Sickleton, too, seemed like one who regarded 
 the whole adventure as a circumstance too commonplace for much 
 thought, and busied himself writing letters to various persons at Cashel's 
 dictation, sorely puzzled from time to time to follow out the thread of an 
 intention, which Roland's devotion to the lady at his side more than 
 once interrupted. 
 
 The most disconsolate and woe begone of all was the poor Peer, who, 
 propped up by cushions, sat with unmeaning gaze steadily riveted on 
 the fire. There was something so horribly absurd, too, in the costume 
 in which he was clad, that converted all pity into a sense of ridicule. 
 A great, wide pea-jacket, encircled his shrunken, wasted figure, to the 
 knees, where the thin, attenuated legs appeared, clad in blue worsted 
 stockings, whose wide folds fell in a hundred wrinkles around them ; a 
 
268 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 woollen cap of red and orange stripes covered his head, giving a most 
 grotesque expression to the small and fine cut features of his face. If 
 Lady Kilgoff and Cashel had not been too much interested on other 
 topics, they could not have failed to discover, in the occasional stealthy 
 glances that Sickleton cast on the old lord, that the costume had 
 been a thing of his own devising, and that the rakish air of the night- 
 cap, set side-ways on the head, was owing to the sailors' inveterate fond- 
 ness for a joke, no matter how iil-timed the moment, or ill-suited the 
 subject of it. 
 
 Behind them, and in a wider circle, sat the fisherman and his family, 
 the occasional flash of the fire lighting up the gloom where they sat, and 
 showing, as in a Rembrandt, the strong and vigorous lines of features 
 where health and hardship were united. The whole forming in the 
 light and shadow a perfect subject for a painter. 
 
 From the first moment of the mishap. Lord Kilgoff had sunk into a 
 state of almost childlike imbecility, neither remembering where he was, 
 or taking interest in any thing, an occasional fractious or impatient 
 remark at some passing inconvenience being all the evidence he gave of 
 thought. It devolved, therefore, upon Cashel to make every arrange- 
 ment necessary, an assumption on his part which his natural respect and 
 delicacy made no small difficulty. As for Lady Kilgoff, she appeared 
 implicitly to yield to his judgment on every point, and when Roland 
 suggested that instead of returning to Dublin and all its inevitable rumours 
 they should at once proceed to Tubbermore, she assented at once, and 
 most willingly. 
 
 It was with this object then that Sickleton sat, pen in hand, making 
 notes of Cashel's directions, and from time to time writing at his dicta- 
 tion to various tradesmen whose services he stood in need of. It would 
 certainly have called for a clearer head, and a calmer than Roland's, to 
 have conducted the conversation with the lady and the command to the 
 gentleman, who sat at either side of him. Many a sad blunder did he 
 make, and more than once did the reply intended for her ladyship find 
 its way into the epistle of the Lieutenant, nor did the mistake appear till 
 a reading of the document announced it. At these, a burst of laughter 
 was sure to break forth, and then my lord would look up, and, passing 
 his fingers across his temples, seem trying to recall his lost and wander- 
 ing faculties — efforts that the changeful play of his features showed to 
 be alternately failing and succeeding as reason, tide-like, ebbed and 
 flowed within his brain. 
 
 It was as Sickleton wrote down at Cashel's direction the order for a 
 considerable sum of money to be distributed among the crew of the 
 yacht, that Lord Kilgoff, catching as it were in a momentary lucidness 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 269 
 
 the meaning of the words, said aloud, " This is not munificence, Sir. I 
 tell you this is the wasteful extravagance of the buccaneer, not the gene- 
 rosity of a true gentleman." 
 
 The other suddenly started at the words, and while Lady Kilgoff's 
 deep flush of passion and Cashel's look of astonishment exhibited their 
 feelings, Sickleton's hearty laugh showed the racy enjoyment deficient 
 delicacy can always reap from an awkward dilemma. 
 
 "But, my lord, you mistake Mr. Cashel," said Lady KilgoflF, eagerly, 
 bending forward as she spoke. " His noble gift is to compensate these 
 brave fellows for a loss, as well as reward them for an act of devotion, — 
 how silly in me to reason with him ! see, Mr. Cashel, his mind his quite 
 shaken by this calamity." 
 
 " Your defence compensates a hundred such reproofs," said Cashel, 
 with warmth. " Well, Mr. Sickleton," said he, anxious to quiet a pain- 
 ful topic, " what of this schooner yacht you spoke of a while ago ?" 
 
 " The handsomest craft that ever swam," said the Lieutenant, delighted 
 to discuss a favourite theme. " Lord Wellingham has married, and they 
 say won't keep her any longer. You'll get her for ten thousand, and 
 the story is she cost about fourteen." 
 
 " But perhaps Mr. Cashel may soon follow her noble owner's ex- 
 ample," said Lady Kilgoff, smiling, and with a subdued look towards 
 Roland. 
 
 " Don't give him bad counsel, my lady." 
 
 " It really does seem to me a kind of inveteracy thus to talk of buying 
 a new yacht within a few hours after losing one." 
 
 " Like a widower looking out for a new wife, I suppose," said the Lieu- 
 tenant, laughing. 
 
 " No, Sir, I beg to correct you," broke in my Lord, with a snap- 
 pishness that made the hearers start ; " her Ladyship is not yet a widow, 
 although her levity might seem to imply it." 
 
 " My Lord, I must protest against this sarcastic humour," said she, with 
 a mild dignity. " Our terrible catastrophe may have disturbed your 
 right judgment, but I pray select another theme for misconstruction. 
 Mr. Cashel, I will wish you a good night. la the difficulty in which I 
 am placed I can only say, that my perfect confidence in your counsel 
 satisfies me it will be such as you ought to give and I to follow." 
 
 " Yes, Sir, of course, Avhen the lady says follow, I hope you know a 
 gentleman's ' devoir' better than to disobey." These words were uttered 
 by the old man with a sneering impertinence, that augured no absence 
 of mind ; but ere the door closed upon Lady Kilgoff, his face had again 
 put on its former dull and vacant stare, and it was clear that the momen- 
 tary intelligence was passed and over. 
 
270 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Now, Sickleton," said Cashel, as if at length able to give his mind 
 to the details before him ; '* you will haste to Dublin ; send us the car- 
 riages with all the speed you can muster ; pack off her Ladyship's maid 
 and the wardrobe, and don't forget that dressing-case at Seward's. I 
 should like to have her crest upon it, but there's no time for that — besides, 
 we should only have more scandal in Dublin when it got abroad. Then 
 for Kennyfeck, tell him I have no money, and stand much in need of it ; 
 for, as my Lord says mine are buccaneer's habits; and lastly, run over to 
 Cowes and secure the yacht — we must have her. I'm much mistaken, 
 or our friends here will take a cruise with us among the Greek islands 
 one of these days." 
 
 " Treacherous navigation too !" said Sickleton, with a dryness that 
 seemed to imply more than the mere words. 
 
 " What if it be, man ! they say there's nothing much worse anywhere 
 than the line of coast here beside us." 
 
 *• Well, and haven't we suffered enough to make us credit the report ?" 
 He paused, and then dropping his voice to a low and cautious whisper 
 added, " not but that I shall call you lucky if all the danger has ended 
 with the loss of the vessel." 
 
 **• How ? what do you mean ?" asked Cashel, in a tone of great 
 eagerness. 
 
 " Cannot you guess," said the other, with an imperturbable coolness. 
 
 "No, on my honour, I haven't a thought whither your words point." 
 
 *' Then, faith, the peril is fifty times greater and nearer than I sus- 
 pected," cried he, warmly. " When a man cracks on all that he can 
 carry and more than is safe, you at least give him credit for knowing the 
 channel, and understanding its bearings, but when he tells you that he 
 neither knows the course nor the soundings, why you set him down as 
 mad." 
 
 " I shall be not very far removed from that condition, if you'll not 
 condescend to explain yourself more clearly," said Cashel, with some 
 irritation of manner. " Where is this danger ? and what is it ?" 
 
 Sickleton looked at him for a second or two — then at the old Peer — 
 and, at last, with a scarcely perceptible movement of his head, mo- 
 tioned towards the door, by which Lady Kilgoff had just passed out. 
 
 " You surely cannot mean — you do not suppose " 
 
 ** No matter what I suppose ; all I say is, there are worse breakers 
 a-head of you just now than the Lucciola had last night ; haul your 
 wind and draw off while you have time. Besides, look yonder," and he 
 pointed with a jerk of his thumb to Lord Kilgoff, who still sat, with 
 stolid gaze fixed upon the red embers of the fire. " That would be a 
 victory witfi but little honour I" 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 271 
 
 Cashel started to liis feet, and, passing his hand over his forehead, 
 seemed, as it were, trj'ing to disabuse his mind of some painful illusion. 
 His features, flushed and animated an instant before, had grown almost 
 livid in pallor ; and he stood, with one hand leaning on the chair from 
 which he had risen, like one recovering from a fainting fit. At last, 
 and with a voice husky and hoarse from emotion, he said, " Sickleton, 
 if I had thought this,— if I say, I even believed what you hint at 
 possible " 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh !" broke in the other ; " why anchor in three fathoms, 
 when you've deep water beside you. You'll not hug a lee-shore, with 
 a fresh breeze on your quarter ; and all I ask is, that you'd not risk the 
 loss of that noble craft, — merely, that you may spoil the wreck." 
 
 Cashel grasped the rough seaman's hand in both his own, and shook 
 it with warmth. 
 
 " I can only say this," said the bluff Lieutenant, rising, " if such be 
 the object of your cruises, you 'must seek another ship-mate than Bob 
 Sickleton ; and so good night." 
 
 " Are you going ?" said Cashel, with a sorrowful voice. " I wish 
 you were not about to leave thus." 
 
 " I have given you your bearings, that ought to be enough for you. 
 Good night, once more," and with this the honest-hearted Lieutenant 
 threw his boat-cloak around him, and sallied forth to the door, before 
 which a chaise was in waiting to convey him to Dublin. 
 
 As for Roland, his agitated and excited mind banished all desire for 
 sleep, and he wandered out upon the beach, where, resolving many a 
 good intention for the future, he walked to and fro, till day was 
 breaking. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 " Old walls have mouths as well as ears." 
 
 "The Convent," a Play. 
 
 To us of the present day, who see what Genii are guineas, fairy tales 
 are mere allegories. Your true sorcerer is a credit " on Coutts," and any 
 thing may be esteemed within his power who reckons by tens of 
 thousands. 
 
 Tom Linton was experimenting on this problem somewhat largely at 
 Tubbermore, where the old, misshapen, ugly house had undergone such 
 a series of transformations inside and out, that the oldest inhabitant 
 might have failed to recognise it. Roman cement and stucco — those 
 
272 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 cosmetics of architecture — had given to the front a most plausible air, 
 and what with a great flagged terrace beneath and a balustrade parapet 
 above, the whole had put on a wonderful look of solidity and import- 
 ance. French windows and plate-glass, stuccoed architraves and richly 
 traceried balconies, from which access was had to various terraces and 
 flower-plats, contributed an appearance of lightness to the building, and 
 what was lost in architectural elegance was fully recompensed by con- 
 venience and facility of enjoyment. 
 
 Within, the arrangements were excellent, and, as regarded the object 
 in view perfect — various suites of apartments, so separated as to be ac- 
 tually like residences, abounded throughout, so that the guests might 
 either indulge their solitude undisturbed, or mix in the wide circle of the 
 general company. For the latter a magnificent suite of rooms led 
 along the entire basement story. Here, considering the shortness of the 
 time and the difficulties encountered, Linton's skill was pre-eminently 
 distinguished. Painting was too slow a process for such an emergency, 
 and accordingly the walls were hung with rich silks and stuffs from the 
 looms of Lyons, draped in a hundred graceful fashions, while the floors, 
 laid down in the rough, were concealed by the massive texture of 
 Persian carpets, the most costly ever brought to this country. The air 
 of comfort and " livableness" — if we may coin a word — -depicted on 
 every side, took away the reproach of ostentatious splendour, which 
 perhaps might have been applied to rich decorations and gorgeous 
 details in a mere country-house. And this was managed with no mean 
 skill, and he must have been a stern critic who could have canvassed too 
 rigidly the merit of appliances so manifestly provided for his own en- 
 joyment. Books and pictures — the Penates of domesticity— w^ere there, 
 and every thing possible was done to give a semblance of long habita- 
 tion to that which but a few weeks back had been a dreary ruin. 
 
 A critical eye might have detected in many instances the evidences 
 of a more refined taste than Mr. Linton's, and so was it. Miss Leicester 
 had frequently aided him by her advice and suggestion, and every day 
 when the weather permitted saw old Mr. Corrigan and his grand- daughter 
 repair to Tubbermore, whose progress they watched with a degree of 
 interest only felt by those whose retirement admits few sources of amuse- 
 ment. There was a secret cause of pride, too, in seeing the old resi- 
 dence of the family — marred as had been its proportions by frequent 
 and tasteless additions— resume something of its once grandeur. Mary, 
 whose earliest lessons in infancy had been the tales of her powerful 
 ancestors, who lorded over an almost princely tract, entered heart and 
 soul into a course which favoured so many of fancy's pleasantest fictions. 
 Her greatest delight, however, was in the restoration of one part of 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 273 
 
 the building, which all former innovators had apparently despaired of, 
 and left as a species of store-house for ever}' kind of lumber. This was 
 a great square tower, with an adjoining chapel, the floor of which was 
 formed by the tomb-stones of her earliest ancestors. One compartment 
 of a stained-glass window showed " the helmet and torch," the arras of 
 the O Regans, from which the family by a corruption took the name of 
 Corrigan, and various other mementos abounded to prove the high station 
 they had once supported. 
 
 Strongly imbued with a knowledge of the tales and customs of the 
 period, Mary restored the chapel to all the emblazoned splendour of the 
 sixteenth century. The rich carvings, that modern research has dis- 
 covered and carried away from the chateaux of the Low Countries, 
 were adapted to the place, and speedily, the interior put on an air of 
 highly preserved and cherished antiquity. 
 
 The tower adjoining was also converted into a great chamber of 
 audience — a " Ritter-Saal," hung round with weapons of the chase and 
 war, while great buSets displayed a wealth of antique plate and china, 
 of gem-wrought cup and massive flagons, that lent a lustre to its other- 
 wise too stem appearance. Lighted by a range of stained windows far 
 from the ground, the tempered sunlight cast a mellow glance on every 
 object ; and here, in the silence of the noon, when the workmen had 
 gone to dinner, Mary used to sit alone, some strange spell fascinating 
 her to a spot, whose echoes had once awoke to the tramp of her own 
 kinsmen's footsteps. 
 
 " Tell me, Mr. Linton," said she, as he entered suddenly, and found 
 her seated in her favourite place, " what part of the chapel adjoins the 
 wall we see yonder ?" 
 
 " That," said Linton, musing for a second ; " that, if I mistake not, 
 must be what you styled the crypt ; the " 
 
 " Exactly !" cried shd, with animation. " The crypt is somewhat 
 lower than this chamber, two steps or so ?" 
 
 " About as much." 
 
 " How strange ; how very strange," said she, half to herself. 
 
 " What is strange ?" said Linton, smiling, at the intense pre-occupa- 
 tion of her features. 
 
 " You will laugh outright," said she, " if I tell you. It was a dream 
 I had last night about this chamber." 
 
 " Pray, let me hear it," said Linton, seating himself, and affecting a 
 deep interest. " I own to a most implicit confidence in dreams." 
 
 ** Which is more than I do," said she, laughing. " This has, how- 
 ever, so much of truth about it, as the locality is concerned, and thus 
 
 T 
 
274 ROLAXD CASHEL. 
 
 far it is curious. Are you certain that you never told me before that 
 the crypt lay outside of that wall." 
 
 "Perfectly; since I only learned as much myself about an hour 
 ago." 
 
 " How singular !" 
 
 " Come, do not torture my curiosity further. Let us have your 
 dream." 
 
 " It was very short. I dreamed that I was sitting here musing and 
 thinking over the lives and fortunes of some of those who once dwelt 
 within these walls, and comparing their destiny with that of their de- 
 scendants, only admitted, as it were, on suflPerance, when suddenly a 
 door opened slowly there — there, in the very midst of that wall — and I 
 could see down into the crypt, and the chapel beyond it. On the altar 
 there were candles lighted, and I thought the figure of a man crossed 
 and recrossed below the steps, as if settling and arranging the books and 
 cushions ; and, at last, he turned round, and I perceived that he carried 
 in his hands a small and strongly-clasped box, and, as he came towards 
 me, he seemed to hold this out for me to take ; but, as I did not move 
 or stir, he laid it down within the doorway, and as he did so, the wall 
 gradually closed up again, and no vestige of the door could be seen. 
 Nay, £0 perfectly unshaken did all appear, that I remember remarking 
 a cobweb that stretched from the frame of a picture, and hung over the 
 spot where the door seemed to be ; and there," cried she, starting up, 
 " there, Mr. Linton, as I live, there is the cobweb !" 
 
 " Which, without doubt, you observed yesterday," said Linton, " and 
 in your sleep the vision of our neglect was renewed." 
 
 '•' No, no ; I never saw it before. I am confident that I never noticed 
 it, yesterday. I am sorry I revealed my dream to you," said she, per- 
 ceiving that, in spite of all his tact, incredulity had lent a look of 
 pitying compassion to his features. 
 
 " On the contrary, I beg of you to believe in all my interest for your 
 recital ; nay, I'll prove it too." 
 
 " How so ?" said she, eagerly. 
 
 " Simply enough. I'll give orders at once to have a door made here, 
 and then we shall see if the view you describe of the crypt and the 
 chapel can be seen from this point." 
 
 " Why don't you add, and of the figure with the casket, too," said 
 she, smiling ; "for I see you regard them all as alike veracious." 
 
 " In any case," cried Linton, " if he lay down the treasure, — and 
 treasure it must be, — here in the door«way, I'll take care that the 
 walls do not swallow it up again ; we shall be able to find it in the 
 morning." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 275 
 
 "And will you really have this done ?" 
 
 " I'll give the orders this very day." 
 
 " I must not be so silly," said she, after a pause, — " the whole is too 
 absurd. No, Mr. Linton, do not, I beg of you, do not take any notice 
 of my folly." 
 
 " At all events,'* said Linton, "your dream is a most happy inspira- 
 tion ; a door here will be a great improvement, and if the vista takes in 
 the chapel, so much the better. Remember, too," added he, in a lower and 
 more feeling voice, " remember what I've told you so often, that what- 
 ever we do here has, so to say, no other reward than the pleasure it gives 
 me the doing. Our great patron has about as much gratefulness in his 
 composition as taste. He will neither feel thankful for our exertions, 
 nor sensible of their success, and is just as likely to desecrate yon Ritter- 
 Saal, by making it his smoking-room." 
 
 " If I thought so," — said she, proudly, and then stopped suddenly. 
 " But how can it concern me ! I have only to wonder how you can 
 accept of an intimacy so distasteful." 
 
 This, in its very abruptness, was a home-thrust, and so much did 
 Linton feel it, that he reddened, at first with shame, and then with 
 anger at his want of composure. 
 
 " There are many circumstances in life, Miss Leicester," said he, 
 gravely, " which demand heavy sacrifices of personal feeling, and happy 
 if sometimes the recompense come in seeing that our self-devotion has 
 worked well for others. I may one day explain myself more fully on 
 this head." 
 
 Before Mary could answer, a messenger came to say that her grand- 
 father was waiting to return with her to the cottage, and she bid Linton 
 good-bye with a degree of interest for him she had never felt before. 
 Linton stood In a window and watched her as she went, nor did his eye quit 
 the graceful form, till it disappeared in the covering of the trees. " Yes," 
 said he, to himself, " I have struck the right chord at last ! She neither 
 Is to be dazzled by the splendour, or excited by the ambitions of the great 
 world. The key to the mystery of her nature lies in the very fact 
 of her position in life — the indignant struggle against a condition she 
 feels beneath her — she can sympathise with this. She is just the very 
 girl, too, to awaken Laura's jealousy, so brilliantly handsome, so much 
 of elegance in mien and deportment. Aye ! the game will win. I 
 may stake all upon It ! Who Is that ?" said he, starting suddenly, as 
 a door banged behind him, and he saw Tom Keane, who had been a si- 
 lent listener to his soliloquy. Linton well knew that shrewd as the man 
 was, the words could have conveyed little or nothing to his intelli- 
 gence, and carelessly asked what had the post brought. 
 
 t2 
 
276 ROLAND CASIIEL. 
 
 " A heap of letters, yer honer," said he, laying the heavily-loaded 
 bag on the table. " I never see as many come to the town afore." 
 
 As Linton unlocked the bag and emptied its contents before him, his 
 face suddenly grew dark and angry, for none of the letters as he turned 
 them over were for himself; they were all addressed Roland Cashel, Esq., 
 and marked ^'private." At last he saw one with his own name, and mo- 
 tioning to Keane to leave him undisturbed he sat down to read it. It 
 came from his correspondent Mr. Phillis, and was of the briefest. 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 " All has gone wrong — R. C. sailed last night on a yachting excur- 
 sion with Lord and Lady K., some say for Wales, others for the Isle of 
 Wight. The truth I cannot ascertain. The persons invited to Tubber- 
 more are all preparing to set out, but eagerly asking where C. is to be 
 found. There has been something like a breach at K.'s, and I fancy it 
 is about Lady Kilgoff's going in the yacht, which, although seeming 
 accident, must have been planned previously. If you had been here the 
 matter might have taken another turn, as C. appears very tired of K.'s 
 agency, and the difficulty of obtaining money from him. 
 
 "I have received a few lines from C, dated from "the Harbour," to 
 order a " fourgon" to be got ready, but I shall pretend not to have re- 
 ceived the note, and leave this, if you desire it, for Tubbermore on 
 hearing from you, 
 
 ** Yours in duty, 
 
 " R. Phillis." 
 
 Linton crushed the note passionately in his fingers, and with a cheak 
 almost purple, and swollen knotted veins about the forehead and temples, 
 he hastily walked to and fro in the apartment. '^ So, madam," said he, 
 *' is this then the reason of your compliance ; was this the source of that 
 yielding to my wishes, that induced you to come here ? And to dare this 
 towards me !" A fiendish laugh burst from him as he said, " Silly fool, so 
 long as you played fair, the advantage was all on your own side. Try to 
 cheat and you'll soon see who's the victor ! And that cub too," added he, 
 with a hoarse passion, '^ who ventures a rivalry with me. Hate has an 
 inspiration that never deceives ; from the first moment I saw, I felt that 
 for him." 
 
 <'You said, you wanted the masons. Sir," said Keane, opening the 
 door, where he had been endeavouring but ineffectually to catch the 
 clue of Linton's words. 
 
 " Yes, let them come here," said he, with his ordinary composure. 
 *' You are to break a door there," said he, as the men entered, " and I 
 
Tbe Discovery. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 277 
 
 wish to have it done with all speed. You'll work all night and be doubly- 
 paid." As he spoke he sauntered out to muse over the late tidings he 
 received, and plan within himself the coming campaign. 
 
 Thus loitering and reflecting, time slipped by and evening drew near. 
 
 " We must have a light here," said one of the masons. " This room 
 is never very bright, and now it is almost dark as night. But what have 
 we here ?'^ and at the moment his hammer sent forth a ringing sound 
 as if it had struck upon metal. 
 
 " What can it be," said the other, " it seems like a plate of iron." 
 Linton now drew nigh, as he overheard these words, and stationing him- 
 self at a small window, beheld the two men as they laboured to detach 
 what seemed a heavy stone in the wall. 
 
 " It's not a plate of iron, but a box," cried one. 
 
 " Hush," said the other, cautioning silence ; "if it's money there's in 
 it, let us consider a bit where we'll hide it.' 
 
 " It sounds empty, any how," said the first, as the metal rung clearly 
 out under the hammer. Meanwhile Linton stood, overwhelmed at the 
 strange connexion between the dream and the discovery." It is a box, 
 and here's the key fastened to it by a chain," cried the former speaker. 
 He had scarcely succeeded in removing the box from the wall when 
 Linton was standing unseen and noiseless behind him. 
 
 "We'll share it fair whatever it is," said the second. 
 
 " Of course," said the other. " Let us see what there is, to share," 
 and so he threw back the lid^ and beheld, to his great dismay, nothing 
 but a roll of parchment fastened by a strap, of what had been once red 
 leather, but which crumbled away as he touched it. 
 
 " 'Tis Latin," said the first, " who seemed the more intelligent of the 
 two, after a vain effort to decypher the heavily engrossed line at the 
 top. 
 
 " You are right," said Linton, and the two men started with terror 
 on seeing him so near. " It is Latin, boys ; it was the custom of the 
 monks to bury their prayers in that way once, and to beg, whoever 
 might discover the document, to say so many masses for the writer's 
 soul, and, Protestant though I be, I do not think badly of the practice. 
 Let us find out the name," and thus saying, he took up the roll and 
 perused it steadily. For a long time the evening darkness^^ — the difficulty 
 of the letters — and the style of the record, impeded him, but as he read 
 on, the colour came and went in his cheek, his hand trembled with 
 agitation, and had there been light enough to have noted him well, 
 even the workmen must have perceived the excitement under which he 
 laboured. 
 
 " Yes," said he, at last, " it is exactly as I said. It was written by a 
 
278 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 monk. This was an old convent once, and Father Angelo asks our 
 prayers for his eternal repose, which assuredly he shall have, heretic 
 that I am ! Here, boys, here's a pound-note for you. Father Rush will 
 tell you how to use it for the best. Get a light and go on with your 
 work, and if you don't like to spend the money in masses say nothing 
 about the box, and I'll not betray your secret." 
 
 A dry laugh and a significant leer of the eye showed that he had 
 accurately read his hearers' inmost thoughts, and Linton sat down as if 
 to await the return ; but no sooner had they left the spot than he has- 
 tened with all speed to the inn, to con over his newly-discovered trea- 
 sure, and satisfy himself as to its importance and authenticity. 
 
 Drawing close the curtains of his windows, and locking the door of his 
 room, like one who would be alone — he again opened the casket, and 
 took out the scroll. With bent- down head and steady gaze, he perused 
 it from end to end, and then sat with riveted eyes fixed upon the signa- 
 ture and massive seal which were appended to the foot of the document. 
 " That this should have been revealed in a dream," said he, at length, 
 " is almost enough to shake one's faith in the whole ! Am I myself 
 awake, and is it real what I see before me ?" He walked the room with 
 uncertain steps — then opened wide the window — then closed it again — 
 once more took up the paper and studied it. In fact, it was clear to 
 see, that a sceptical nature, the very habit of doubt, had indisposed him 
 to believe in even that which his very senses corroborated. 
 
 " What would I give for some lawyer's craft at this moment !" said 
 he, as the drops of perspiration stood upon his forehead, and his clenched 
 hands were clasped together in strong emotion, — " what would I give for 
 the keenness that could pierce through every line of this, and see it 
 free of flaw, — aye, that is the point ! And then, Master Roland," — here 
 his voice grew full and round, — "and then, we should see, who is 
 the master and who the dependent. If with a word — with one word — 
 I could unmake you, and from the insolence of your sudden wealth, bring 
 you down once more to your fitting station ! ' Never did Fortune stand 
 by me like this ! Let me, however, not lose the game from over 
 strength. Caution is needed here. Before Corrigan shall know him- 
 self the rightful owner of Tubbermore, he must be satisfied to see Tom 
 Linton his son-in-law. A glorious hit that deals vengeance on every 
 hand. Aye! my Lady, we shall acquit our debt to you also !" From 
 the heat of overwhelming passion he again turned to the document 
 which lay open on the table : " What if it were only a copy ? but this 
 is scarce possible. The signatures look real, and the seal cannot be 
 counterfeit. Who could I trust to inspect it ? With whom dare I 
 place it for a day, or even an hour ! No ! I'll never suffer it out of my 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 279 
 
 own keeping I I know not if the power to strike is not the very acme 
 of revenge !" 
 
 As he walked the room in deepest agitation he chanced for an instant 
 to catch a gUmpse of Tubbermore, which in the bright light of a newly 
 risen moon could be seen above the trees. 
 
 *' So then it may chance that I have not expended my labour in vain, 
 and that this same house may be yet my own. Mine !" cried he in an 
 ecstasy, — "mine those swelling woods — that princely park — the high 
 position which wealth bestows and the power that I could speedily accom- 
 plish in political life. There may be many who have more ambition to 
 strive for — I'll swear there are few men living have more grudges to 
 pay off." 
 
 And with this speech, uttered in an accent of withering hate and 
 scorn, he again returned to gaze at the open parchment. 
 
 The document, surmounted by the royal arms and engrossed in a stiff 
 old-fashioned hand was a free pardon accorded by His Majesty George 
 the Second to Miles Hardress Corrigan, and a full and unqualified 
 restoration to his once forfeited estates. 
 
 Certain legal formalities were also enjoined to be taken, and certain 
 oaths to be made, as the recognition of this act of his sovereign's 
 grace. 
 
 Such was the important document on which now he gazed, reading 
 and re-reading it, till every word became riveted on his memory. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 " Hark, they come ! tliey come !" 
 
 An unusual bustle and commotion in the little Inn awoke Linton early 
 on the following morning. These were caused by the arrival of a host 
 of cooks, coachmen, grooms, footmen, and scullions, with a due pro- 
 portion of the other sex, all engaged in London, and despatched — 
 " as per order" to form the household of Tubbermore. 
 
 As Linton proceeded with his dressing, he overheard the multifarious 
 complaints and lamentations of this town- reared population over the 
 dirt and destitution of their newly adopted land; criticisms, which as they 
 scrupled not to detail aloud, evoked rejoinders not a whit more com- 
 plimentary to the Saxon. The hostess of the Goat, being an energetic 
 
280 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 disciple of that great authority who has pronounced both the land 
 and its people as the paragons of creation, leading the van of the 
 attack, and certainly n^aking up for any deficiencies in her cause, by the 
 force of her eloquence. 
 
 " Arrah ! who wanted ye here at all ?" said she, addressing the 
 circle stunned into silence by her volubility. " Who axed ye ? Was it to 
 plaze us, or to fill yer pockets with the goold of ould Ireland, ye kem ? 
 Oh, murther ! murther — isn't it the sin and the shame to think how 
 the craytures is eatin' us up ! Faix ! maybe ye he'll sorry enough for 
 it yet. Tiiere's more than one amongst you would Hke to be safe home 
 again, afore long ! A set of lazy thieves, no less. The Heavens be m}^ 
 bed, but I never thought I'd see the day they'd be bringing a ' Naygur' 
 to Ireland to teach us music !" 
 
 This singular apostrophe, which seemed to fill the measure of her woe, 
 so far attracted Linton's curiosity to comprehend it, that he opened the 
 window and looked out, and at once discovered, by the direction of the 
 eyes of the circle, the object of the sarcasm. He was a well-built man, 
 of a dark swarthy complexion and immense beard and moustache, who 
 sat on a stone bench before the door, occupied in arranging the strings 
 of his guitar. The air of unmoved tranquillity showed that he did 
 not suspect himself to be the butt of any sarcasm, and he pursued 
 his task, with a composure that vouched for his ignorance of the lan- 
 guage. 
 
 " Who is our friend ?" said Linton, addressing the coachman, and 
 pointing to the musician. 
 
 " We calls him Robinson Crusoe, Sir," replied the other ; ^' we took 
 him up on the road from Limerick. We never see'd him afore." 
 
 " So, then, he doesn't belong to our force. I really had begun to 
 fear that Mr. Gunterhad pushed enlistment too far." 
 
 Meanwhile the stranger, attracted by the voice, looked up, and seeing 
 Linton, immediately removed his cap, with an air of quiet courtesy that 
 was not lost upon the shrewd observer to whom it was tendered. 
 
 " You are a sailor, I perceive ?" said Tom, as he walked out in front 
 of the Inn. The other shook his head dubiously. 
 
 " I was asking," said Linton, changing his language to French, "if 
 you had been a sailor ?" 
 
 " Yes, Sir," replied he, again removing his cap, " a sailor from 
 Trieste." 
 
 '* And how came you here ?" 
 
 " Our vessel was lost off the Blasquets, Sir, on Wednesday night. 
 We were bound for Bristol with fruit from Sicily, and caught in the gale ; 
 

EOLAND CASHEL. 28 1 
 
 we struck, and all were lost, except myself and another, now in hos- 
 pital in the large city yonder." 
 
 " Were you a petty officer, or a common seaman ?" said Linton, 
 who had been scanning with keen eye the well-knit frame and graceful 
 ease of the speaker. 
 
 " A common sailor, Sir," rejoined he modestly. 
 
 "And how comes it that you are a musician, friend ?" asked Linton, 
 shrewdly. 
 
 *• Every one is in my country, Sir, — at least, with such humble skill 
 as I possess." 
 
 " What good fortune it was to have saved your guitar from ship- 
 wreck," rejoined Linton, with an incredulous twinkle of his gray eyes. 
 
 " I did not do so. Sir," said the sailor, who either did not, or would 
 not, notice the sarcasm. " My good friends here," pointing to the ser- 
 vants, " bought this for me in the last town we came through." 
 
 Linton again fixed his eyes upon him ; it was evident that he was 
 hesitating between belief, and an habitual sense of distrust, that ex- 
 tended to every thing and every body. At last he said, 
 
 " And what led you hither, my friend ?" 
 
 " Chance," said the man, shrugging his shoulders, " I could have no 
 preferences for one road over another, all were strange — all unknown to 
 me. I hoped, with the aid of my guitar, to get some clothes once more 
 together, and then to find some vessel bound for the Adriatic." 
 
 " What can you do besides that ?" said Linton, " for it strikes me a 
 fellow, with thews and sinews like yours, was scarcely intended to thrum 
 catgut." 
 
 " I can do most things where a steady eye, and a strong hand, and a 
 quick foot are needed. . I've been a hunter in the forests of Dalmatia, — 
 herded the half wild cattle on the Campagna at Rome, — sailed a Felucca, 
 in the worst Levanters of the Gulph, and to swim in a high sea, or to 
 ride an unbroken horse, I'll yield to but one man living." 
 
 " And who may he be ?" said Linton, aroused at the southern enthu- 
 siasm so suddenly excited." 
 
 "A countryman of mine," said the sailor, sententiously ; "his name 
 is not known to you." 
 
 " How sad such gifts as these should have so little recompense in our 
 days," said Linton, with an affected sincerity. " There was a time in 
 your own country, too, when a fellow like yourself would not have long 
 to seek for a patron." 
 
 The Italian's cheek grew deeper in its flush, and his dark eyes seemed 
 almost to kindle beneath the shaggy brows ; then correcting, as it 
 seemed, the passionate impulse, he said, " Ay, true enough, Sir ; there 
 
282 • KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 were many who had the gold to squander, who had not the hand to 
 strike, and, as you say, fellows like me were high in the market." 
 
 " And no great hardship in it, either," said Linton. " There is a 
 Justice surer and quicker than the Law, which I, for one, think right 
 well of." 
 
 Either not following the import of the speech, or not caring to concur 
 in it, the Italian did not reply. 
 
 " I have a notion that we may find out some employment for you here," 
 said Linton. " What name are we to call you ?" 
 
 " Giovanni," said the sailor, after a moment's hesitation, which did not 
 escape the shrewdness of his questioner. 
 
 *' Giovanni be it," said Linton, easily, " as good as another." 
 " Just so," rejoined the Itahan, with a hardihood that seemed to sit 
 easily upon him. 
 
 " I think, friend," said Linton, drawing nearer to him, and, although 
 the foreign language in which he spoke effectually prevented the others 
 from understanding what passed, instantly his voice dropped into a lower 
 and more confidential tone, "I think, — friend, we shall soon understand 
 each other well. You are in want of a protector ; I may yet stand in need 
 of an attached and zealous follower. I read people quickly, and it seems to 
 me that we are well met. Stay here, then, we shall soon have a large 
 company arriving, and I'll try and find out some exercise for your 
 abilities." 
 
 The Italian's dark eyes flashed and twinkled, as though his subtle na- 
 ture had already enlarged upon the shadowy suggestions of the other, and 
 he made a significant gesture of assent. 
 
 " Remember, now, in whose service you are," said Linton, taking out 
 his purse, and seeking among its contents for the precise piece of coin 
 he wanted ; " remember, that I am not the master here, but one who 
 has to the full as much power, and that I can prove a strong friend, and, 
 some say, a very dangerous enemy. Here is the earnest of our bargain," 
 said he, handing him a guinea in gold, " from this out, I count upon 
 you." 
 
 The Italian nodded twice, and pocketing the money with a cool auda- 
 city that told that such contracts were easily comprehended by him, 
 touched his cap, and sauntered away, as though to follow out some path 
 of liis own choosing. Linton looked after him for a moment, but the 
 next his attention was taken off by seeing that Mr. Corrigan and his 
 grand-daughter were advancing hastily towards him. 
 
 " So, you have really accepted my suggestion," said Mary, with a 
 flush of pleasure on her cheek ; " the door has been opened, and the vista 
 is exactly as my dream revealed it." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 283 
 
 '^ In all save the chief ingredient," replied Linton, laughing, *' we 
 want the monk and the casket." 
 
 " Hush," said she, cautiously, " grandpapa is a firm believer in all 
 dreams and visions, and would not hear them spoken of irreverently." 
 
 " Assuredly, I never was less in the mind to do so," replied Linton, 
 with a degree of earnestness that made Mary smile, little suspecting at 
 the time to what his speech owed its fervour. 
 
 " We've come to take a last look at the * Hall,' Mr. Linton," said the 
 old man. " Tom Keane tells me that your gay company will soon arrive; 
 indeed, rumour says, that some have already reached Limerick, and will 
 be here to-morrow." 
 
 " This is more than I knew of," said Linton, " but here comes the 
 redoubted Tom himself, and with a full letter-bag, too." Plastily un- 
 locking the leather sack, Tom Linton emptied its contents upon a grassy 
 bench, where the party seated themselves to learn the news. " There 
 are no secrets here," said Linton, tossing over the letters, with nearly all 
 of whose hand-writing^he was familiar ; " help me. Miss Leicester, I beg, 
 to get through my task. Pray, break some of the seals, and tell us who 
 our dear friends are, whose presence is so soon to charm and enliven us. 
 And will you, too. Sir, bear your part ?" Thus invited, old Mr. Corrigan 
 put on his spectacles, and slowly prepared to assist in the labour. 
 
 "That's the Dean's hand. Miss Leicester, — theDeanof Drumcondera. 
 I hope he's not coming, I'm sure he was never invited." 
 
 " He regrets he cannot be with you this week, but will certainly come 
 next, and take the liberty of presenting his distinguished friend, the 
 Hofrath von Dunnersleben, Professor of Oriental Literature at Hochen- 
 kanperhausen." 
 
 " This is painting the lily with a vengeance ; 'colour on colour' is bad 
 heraldry, but what shall we say of the taste that brings * Bore upon 
 bore?'" 
 
 " Mrs. Leicester White has prevailed upon Mr. Howie to defer his 
 departure from Ireland " 
 
 *' This is too bad," interrupted Linton ; " what fortune have you, Sir ? 
 I hope better tidings than Miss Leicester." 
 
 " This is a strange kind of scrawl enough," said the old man ; " it runs 
 thus : * Dear Tom, we are starting for your wild regions this evening, — 
 tvw drags and a mail phaeton. I have sent Gipsey and the white 
 fetlocked coalt by Hericks, and will bring Tom Edwards with me. The 
 mare looks well, but fleshy ; you must look to it that we hav'n't heavy 
 ground — ' " 
 
 " Oh, I know who that's from," said Linton, hastily taking the letter 
 
284 ROLAND CASHEL* 
 
 from Corrigan's hand, "it's Lord Charles Froblsher, — a silly fellow, 
 that never thinks of any thing but horse-racing and training." 
 
 " He would seem to speculate on something of the kind here," said 
 Corrigan ; " at least it looks very little premeditation, this sending oft 
 grooms and racers." 
 
 " He does so everywhere he goes," said Linton, affecting to laugh ; 
 *' a surgeon would no more travel without his lancets, than Charley 
 without some chance of a * match ;' but what's this ? 
 
 " ' Dear Mr. Cashel, 
 " ' I and my little girl are already * en route' for your hospitable castle, 
 
 too happy to assist in the celebration of your house-warming " 
 
 " Oh, that's Meek," said Linton, " and now for this rugged little 
 hand here." 
 
 " ' Lady Janet and Sir And rew McFarlane ' " 
 
 " Strange style, — the lady first," interposed Miss Leicester. 
 
 " She always is so," said Linton, continuing the perusal, " *will reach 
 Tubbermore by Tuesday, and have only to request that their apartments 
 may not have a north aspect, as Lady J. has still a heavy cold hanging 
 over her. Sir A.'s man Flint will arrange the rooms himself, and, with 
 Mr. Cashel's permission, give directions about double doors — if there be 
 none. 
 
 " ' Sir A. has taken the liberty of mentioningto Gordon that the sherry is 
 far too hot and acrid, and hopes Mr. Cashel will pardon his having ordered 
 some dozens of ' Amontillado' for trial. Lady J. asks, as a favour, that 
 plants and flowers may be banished from the house during her brief 
 stay, Dr. Grimes positively forbidding all herbaceous odours ; and if the 
 cook would make the * cuisine' particularly simple, it would also oblige 
 her, as Dr. G. says she ought not to be exposed to the irritation of 
 tempting viands, even to see them at table. 
 
 " ' Lady J. hopes that the society will be cheerful without dissipation, 
 and gay without debauch j above all, she stipulates for early hours, and 
 trusts that by eleven, at latest, the house will have retired to rest. Lady 
 Janet has no objection to meeting any one Mr. Cashel may honour with 
 his invitation, but leaves it to Mr. C.'s discretion not to abuse this libe- 
 rality. Were she to particularise, she should merely suggest, that the 
 Kennyfecks, except perhaps the elder girl, are odious — Mrs. White, a 
 perfect horror — the Meeks, something too atrocious — and that rather 
 than meet the Kilgoffs and their set, Lady J. would almost prefer to 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 285 
 
 relinquish all her much anticipated pleasure. Mr. Linton can be, and 
 very often is, gentlemanlike and amusing, but ' Lintonism,' as occasion- 
 ally practised, is intolerable. 
 
 " ' Lady Janet has ventured on these remarks, far less for her own 
 convenience, than in the discharge of what she feels to be a duty to a 
 very young and inexperienced man, whose unsuspecting nature will in- 
 evitably expose him to the very insidious attacks of selfishness, cunning-, 
 and to that species of dictation, that sooner or later end in debasing and 
 degrading him who permits himself to be its subject. 
 
 " 'Janet McFarlane.' " 
 
 " What a chaste specimen of disinterestedness her Ladyship's OT\m 
 letter," said iVlary. " Is she a near relative, or a very old friend of Mr. 
 Cashel's family ?" 
 
 " Neither, — a mere acquaintance undistinguished by any thing like 
 even a passing preference." 
 
 " She is a Lady Janet," interposed old Corrigan ; " and it is surpris- 
 ing what charms of influence pertain to those segments of great 
 families, as they descend a scale in society, and live among the un- 
 titled of the world; besides that, whatever they want in power, they 
 * take out' in pretension, and it does quite as well." 
 
 " She is * mauvaise langue,' " said Linton, " and there are few qua- 
 lities obtain such sway in society. But who comes here in such haste ? 
 It is Tom Keane, — well, Tom, — what has happened, — is the Hall on 
 fire ?" 
 
 " No, Sir, — but the company's comin' rowlin' in as fast as * pays' down 
 the big avenue, and into the coort ; there was three coaches all together, 
 and I see two more near the gate." 
 
 " Then we shall leave you to your cares of host," said Corrigan, 
 rising ; " but don't forget that when affairs of state permit, we shall be 
 delighted to see you at the cottage." 
 
 " Oh, by all means, Mr. Linton. I have acquired the most intense 
 curiosity to hear about your fine company, and their doings — pray com- 
 passionate my inquisitiveness." 
 
 " But will you not join us sometimes ?" said Linton ; " can I not per- 
 suade you to make part of our little company, for I trust we shall be 
 able to have some society worth showing you." 
 
 The old man shook his head and made a gesture of refusal. 
 
 " Nay," said he, " I am so unfitted for such scenes, and so grown out 
 of the world's ways, that I am going to play hermit, and be churlish 
 enough to lock the wicket that leads down to the cottage, during the 
 
286 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 stay of your visitors, — not against you^ however. You'll always find the 
 key at the foot of the holly tree." 
 
 " Thanks, — I'll not forget it," said Linton ; and he took a cordial 
 leave of his friends, and returned to the house, wondering as he went, 
 ■who were the punctual guests whose coming had anticipated his expec- 
 tations. 
 
 He was not long in doubt upon this point, as he perceived Mr. PhilHs, 
 who, standing on the terrace before the chief entrance, was giving 
 directions to the people about, in a tone of no small authority. 
 
 ** What, PhiUis ! has your master arrived ?" cried Linton, in astonibh- 
 ment. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Linton !" cried the other, obsequiously, as hat in hand 
 he made his approaches. " There has been such a business since I 
 
 " Is he here ? is he come ?" asked Linton impatiently. 
 
 " No, Sir, not yet ; nor can he arrive before to-morrow evening. You 
 received my letter, I suppose, about the result of the yachting party, 
 and Lady Kilgoff " 
 
 " No ! I know not one word about it," said Linton, with a firmness 
 that showed how well he could repress any trace of anxiety, or excitement. 
 *' Come this way, out of the hearing of these people, and tell me every 
 thing from the beginning." 
 
 Phillis obeyed, and walked along beside him, eagerly narrating the 
 whole story of Cashel's departure, to the moment when the yacht 
 foundered, and the party were shipwrecked off the coast of Wexford. 
 
 " Well, go on," said Linton, as the other came to a full stop. " What 
 then r 
 
 " A few lines came from Mr. Cashel, Sir, with orders for certain things 
 to be sent down to a little village on the coast, and directions for me to 
 proceed at once to Tubbermore and await his arrival." 
 
 Linton did not speak for some minutes, and seemed totally occupied 
 with his own reflections, when by hazard he caught the words " her 
 Ladyship doing exactly as she pleases—'* 
 
 " With whom ?" asked he, sternly. 
 
 " With Mr. Cashel, Sir, for it seems that notwithstanding all the 
 terror and danger of the late mishap, Mr. Sickleton has been de- 
 spatched to Cowes to purchase the Queen of the Harem, Lord Willing- 
 ham's new yacht, and this at Lady KilgofFs special instigation. Mr. 
 Sickleton slept one night at our house in town, and I took a look at his 
 papers — there was nothing of any consequence, however, except a memo- 
 randum about * Charts for the Mediterranean,* which looks suspicious." 
 
ROLAND CASIIEL. 287 
 
 " I thought, Phillis, I had warned you about the Kilgoff intimacy. I 
 thought I had impressed you with the necessity of keeping them from 
 him." 
 
 " So you had, Sir ; and, to the very utmost of my power, I did so ; 
 but here was a mere accident that foiled all my care and watchfulness." 
 
 *' As accidents ever do," muttered Linton, with suppressed passion. 
 *' The game of Life, like every other game, is less to skill than chance ! 
 Well, when can they be here ?" 
 
 " To-morrow afternoon, Sir, if not delayed by something unforeseen ; 
 though this is not at all unlikely, seeing the difficulty of getting posters. 
 There are from thirty to forty horses engaged at every stage." 
 
 " Who have we here ?" cried Linton, as a large travelling carriage 
 suddenly swept round the drive, and entered the court. 
 
 " Sir Andrew McFarlane's baggage. Sir ; I passed them at the last 
 change. One would say, from the preparations, that they speculate on a 
 somewhat lengthy visit. What rooms are we to assign them. Sir ?" 
 
 " The four that look north over the billiard-room, and the hall ; they 
 are the coldest and most cheerless in the house. Your master will occupy 
 the apartments now mine ; see, here is a plan of the house ; Lord and 
 Lady Kilgoff have 4, 5, and 6. These that are not marked you may 
 distribute how you will. My quarters are those two, beyond the library." 
 
 Linton was here interrupted by the advance of a tall, stiff-looking old 
 fellow, who, carrying his hand to his hat in military guise, stood straight 
 before him, saying, in a very broad accent, " The General's mon. Sir, an't 
 please ye." > 
 
 " Well, friend, and what then ?" replied Linton, half testily. 
 
 " I've my leddy's orders. Sir, to tak' up a good position, and a warm 
 ane, in the hoos younder, and if it's no askin' too much, I'd like to 
 speer the premises first." 
 
 " Mr. Phillis, look after this, if you please," said Linton, turning 
 away, " and remember my directions." 
 
 " Come with me, friend," said Phillis, " your mistress, I suppose, 
 does not like cold apartments." 
 
 " Be ma saul, if she finds them so, she'll mak' the rest of the hoos 
 over warm for the others," said he, with a sardonic grin, that left small 
 doubt of his sincere conviction. 
 
 " And your master ?" said Phillis, in that interrogatory tone which 
 invites a confidence. 
 
 " The Gin'ril's too auld a soldier no to respec deescepline," said he, 
 drily. 
 
 " Oh, that's it, Sanders." 
 
288 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Ma name's Bob Flint and no Saunders — Gunner and driver 1' the 
 Royal Artillery," said the other, drawing himself up proudly ; " an if 
 we are to be mair acquaint', it's just as well ye'd mind that same." 
 
 As Bob Flint possessed that indescribable something which would 
 seem, by an instinct, to save its owner from impertinences, Mr. Phillis did 
 not venture upon any renewed familiarity, but led the way into the 
 house in silence. 
 
 " That's a bra' cookin place ye've got yonder," said Bob, as he stopped 
 for a second at the door of the great kitchen, where already the cooks 
 were busied in the various preparations; "but I'm no so certain my 
 Leddy wad like to see a bra' giggot scooped out in tha fashion just to 
 make room for a wheen black potatoes inside o' it." 
 
 The operation alluded to so sarcastically being the stuffing of a 
 shoulder of mutton with truffles, in Provencal mode. 
 
 " I suppose her Ladyship will be satisfied with criticising what comes 
 to table," said Phillis, " without descending to the kitchen to make 
 objections." 
 
 " If she does then," said Flint, " she's mair ceevil to ye here than 
 she was in the last hoose we spent a fortnight, whar she discharged twa' 
 maids for no making the beds as she taw'd them — forbye getting the 
 coachman turned ojff, because the carriage horses held their tails ower 
 high for her fancy." 
 
 " Will scarce put up with that here," said Phillis, with offended dig- 
 nity. 
 
 *' I dinna ken," said Bob, thoughtfully, " she made her ain nephew 
 carry a pound o' dips from the chandler's — ^just, as she said, to scratch 
 his pride a bit. I'd ha ye mind a v, ee, hoo ye please her fancy. Yer' 
 a bonnie man, but she'll think leetle aboot sending ye packing." 
 
 Mr. Phillis did not deign a reply to this speech, but led the way to 
 the suite destined for her Ladyship's accommodation. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. . 289 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 They come — ^they come ! — Harold. 
 
 Linton passed the greater part of the night in letter-writing. 
 Combinations were thickening around him, and it demanded all the 
 watchful activity he could command to prevent himself being overtaken 
 by events. To a confidential lawyer he submitted a case respecting 
 Corrigan's title, but, so hypothetically and with such reserve, that it 
 betrayed no knowledge of his secret — for he trusted no man. Mary 
 Leicester's manuscript was his next care, and this he entrusted to a 
 former acquaintance connected with the French press, entreating his 
 influence to obtain it the honour of publication, and, instead of remu- 
 neration, asking for some flattering acknowledgment of its merits. 
 His last occupation was to write his address to the constituency of his 
 borough, where high-sounding phrases and generous professions took 
 the place of any awkward avowals of political opinion. This finished, 
 and wearied by the long-sustained exertion, he threw himself on his bed : 
 his head, however, was far too deeply engaged to permit of sleep. The 
 plot was thickening rapidly — events, whose course he hoped to shape at 
 his leisure, were hurrying on, and although few men could summon to their 
 aid more of cold calculation in a moment of difficulty, his wonted calm 
 was now disturbed by one circumstance . . . this being — as he called it to 
 himself — Laura's treachery . . . No men bear breaches of faith so ill as 
 they who practise them with the world. To most persons the yacht 
 voyage would have seemed, too, a chance occurrence, where an acci- 
 dental intimacy was formed, to wane and die out with the circumstance 
 that created it. Not so did he regard it. He read a pre-arranged plan 
 in every step she had taken — he saw in her game the woman's vanity 
 to wield an influence over one for whom so many contended — he knew, 
 too, how in the great world an " 4clat" can always cover an " indiscre- 
 tion" — and that, in the society of that metropolis to which she aspired, 
 the reputation of chaperoning the rich Roland Cashel would be of 
 incalculable service. 
 
 If Linton had often foiled deeper snares, here, a deep personal wrong 
 disturbed his powers of judgment, and irritated him beyond all calm 
 prudential thoughts. Revenge upon her, the only one he had ever 
 cared for, was now his uppermost thought, and left little place for any 
 other. 
 
290 ROLAJN^D CASHEL. 
 
 Wearied and worn out, lie fell asleep at last, but only to be suddenly 
 awakened by tbe rattling of wheels and the quick tramp of horses on 
 the gravel beneath his window. The one absorbing idea pervading his 
 mind, he started up, muttering " She is here." As he opened his 
 window and looked down, he at once perceived his mistake — Mrs. 
 Kenny feck's well-known voice was heard, giving directions about her 
 luggage — and Linton closed the casement, half relieved and half 
 disappointed. 
 
 For a brief space the house seemed astir. Mrs. Kenny feck made her 
 way along the corridor in a mingled commentary on the handsome 
 decorations of the mansion, and Mr. Kennyfeck's stupidity, who had put 
 Archbold's " Criminal Practice" into her bag, instead of Debrett's 
 *' Peerage,** while Linton could overhear a little quizzing conversation 
 between the daughters, wherein the elder reproached her sister for not 
 having the politeness to bid them '* welcome." The slight commotion 
 gradually subsided and all became still, but only for a brief space. 
 Again the same sound of crashing wheels was heard, and once more Linton 
 flung open his window and peered out into the darkness. It was now rain- 
 ing tremendously, and the wind howling in long and dreary cadences. 
 
 " What a climate," exclaimed a voice, Linton knew to be Downie 
 Meek's. His plaint ran thus — 
 
 " I often said they should pension off the Irish Secretary after three 
 years, as they do the Chief Justice of Gambia." 
 
 "It will make the ground very heavy for running, I fear," said the 
 deep full tone of a speaker who assisted a lady to alight. 
 
 " How you are always thinking of the turf. Lord Charles !" said she, 
 as he rather carried, than aided her to the shelter of the porch. 
 
 Linton did not wait for the reply, but shut the window and again lay 
 down. 
 
 In that half waking state where sleep and fatigue contest the ground 
 with watchfulness, Linton continued to hear the sound of several amvals, 
 and the indistinct impressions became co-mingled till all were lost in 
 heavy slumber. So is it. — Childhood itself, in all its guileless freedom, 
 enjoys no sounder, deeper sleep, than he whose head is full of wily 
 schemes and subtle plots, when once exhausted nature gains the vic- 
 tory. 
 
 So profound was that dreamless state in which he lay, that he was 
 never once aware that the door by which his chamber communicated 
 with the adjoining one, had been opened, while a select committee were 
 debating about the disposition of the furniture in total ignorance that 
 he made part of it. 
 
ROLAIO) CASHEL. 291 
 
 ** Why couldn't Sir Andrew take that small room, and leave this for 
 me ? I like an alcove vastly," said Lady Janet, as candle in hand, 
 she took a survey of the chamber. 
 
 "Yes, my Leddy," responded Flint, who, loaded with cloaks, mantles, 
 and shawls, looked like an ambulating wardrobe. 
 
 " You can make him a kind of camp-bed there ; he'll do very well." 
 
 " Yes, my Leddy." 
 
 " And don't suffer that impertinent Mr. Phillis to poke his head in 
 here and interfere with our arrangements. These appear to me to be 
 the best rooms here, and I'll take them." 
 
 " Yes, my Leddy." 
 
 ^* Where's Sir Andrew ?" 
 
 " He's takin' a wee drap warm, my Leddy, in the butler's room ; he 
 was ower wat in the * dickie' behind." 
 
 " It rained smartly, but I'm sure the country wanted it," drily ob- 
 served Lady Janet. — " Well, Sir, you here again ?" This sharp interro- 
 gatory was addressed to Mr. Phillis, who, after a vain search for her 
 Ladyship over half the house, at length discovered her. 
 
 " You are not aware, my Lady," said he, in a tone of obsequious 
 deference, that nearly cost him an apoplexy, "that these rooms are 
 reserved for my master." 
 
 " Well, Sir ; and am I to understand that a guest's accommodation is 
 a matter of less importance than a valet's caprice — for as Mr. Cashel 
 never was here himself, and consequently never could have made a 
 choice, I believe I am not wrong in the source of the selection." 
 
 " It was Mr. Linton, my Lady, who made the arrangement." 
 
 " And who is Mr. Linton, Sir, who ventui*es to give orders here ? I 
 ask you, who is Mr. Linton ?" As there was something excessively 
 puzzling to Mr. Phillis in this brief interrogatory, and as Lady Janet 
 perceived as much, she repeated the phrase in a still louder and more 
 authoritative tone, till, in the fulness of the accents, they fell upon the 
 ears of him, who, if not best able to give the answer, was, at least, most 
 interested in its nature. 
 
 He started, and sat up ; and although, from the position of his bed in 
 a deep alcove he was himself screened from observation, the others were 
 palpable enough to his eyes. 
 
 " Yes," cried Lady Janet, for the third time. " I ask, who is Mr. 
 Linton ?" 
 
 " Upon my life, your Ladyship has almost made me doubt if there 
 be such a person," said Tom, protruding his head between the cur- 
 tains. 
 
 " I vow he's in the bed yonder !" said Lady Janet, starting back. 
 
 u2 
 
292 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Flint, I think you are really too bad ; this is all your doing, or yours, 
 Sir," turning to Phillis with a face of anger. 
 
 " Yes, ray Leddy, it's a' his meddlin'." 
 
 "Eh, Leddy Janet, what's this?" said Sir Andrew, suddenly joining 
 the party, after a very dangerous excursion along dark corridors and 
 back stairs. 
 
 '^ We've strayed into Mr. Linton's room, I find," said she, gathering 
 up various small articles she had on entering thrown on the table. " I 
 must only reserve my apologies for a more fitting time and place, and 
 wish him good-night." 
 
 " I've even dune something o' the same wi' Mrs. Kanyfeck," said 
 Sir Andrew. " She was in bed, though, and so I made my retreat 
 undiscovered." 
 
 " I regret. Lady Janet," said Linton, politely, " that my present toilet 
 does not permit me to show you to your apartment, but if you will allow 
 Mr. Phillis—" 
 
 " Dinna get up, man," broke in Sir Andrew, as he half pushed the 
 invading party out of the door, *' we'll find it vara weel, I've na doubt," 
 and in a confused hubbub of excuses and grumblings they withdreu'-, 
 leaving Linton once more to court slumber, if he could. 
 
 " I beg pardon, Sir," said Phillis, popping in his head the minute 
 after, "but Mr. Downie Meek has taken the rooms you meant for Lady 
 Janet ; they've pillaged all the chambers at either side for easy chairs 
 and cushions to — " 
 
 " With all my heart ; let them settle the question between them, or 
 leave it to arbitration — shut the door, pray." 
 
 " Mrs. White, too, and a large party are in the library, and I don't 
 know where to show them into." 
 
 " Any where but here, Phillis — good night, there's a good man, good 
 night." 
 
 " They're all asking for you. Sir; just tell me what to say." 
 
 *' Merely that I have passed a shocking night, and request I may not 
 be disturbed till late in the afternoon." 
 
 Phillis retired with a groan, and soon a confused hum of many voices 
 could be heard along the corridor, in every accent of irritation and 
 remonstrance. Self-reproaches on the mistaken and abused confidence, 
 which had led the visitors to journey so many miles to " such a place ;" 
 mutual condolences over misfortune ; abuse of the whole establishment, 
 and " that insufi^erable puppy the valet " in particular, went round, till 
 at last, like a storm that had spent its fury, a lull succeeded ; one by one 
 the grumblers slipped away, and just as day was breaking the house was 
 buried in the soundest sleep. 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 293 
 
 About an hour later, when the fresh-risen sun was ghstening and 
 glittering* among the leaves, lightly tipped with the hoar-frost of an 
 autumnal morning, a handsomely appointed travelling-carriage, with four 
 posters, drove rapidly up to the door, and an active-looking figure 
 springing from the box, applied himself to the bell with a vigorous hand, 
 and the next minute, flinging open the carriage-door, said, " Welcome 
 — at last, I am able to say — welcome to Tubbermore." 
 
 A graceful person, wrapped in a large shawl, emerged, and leaning on 
 his arm entered the house ; but in a moment he returned to assist 
 another and a far more helpless traveller, an old and feeble man, who 
 suffered himself to be carried, rather than walked, into the hall. 
 
 " This is Tubbermore, my Lord," said the lady, bending down, and 
 with a hand slightly touching his shoulder, seeming to awake his 
 attention. 
 
 *• Yes — thank you — perfectly well," said he, in a low soft voice, while 
 a smile of courteous but vacant meaning stole over his sickly fea- 
 tures. 
 
 ** Not over-fatigued, my Lord," said Roland, kindly, 
 
 " No, Sir — we saw the " Lightship" quite near us." 
 
 *' Still thinking of that dreadful night," said her Ladyship, as she 
 arranged two braids of her fair brown hair more becomingly on her 
 forehead, and then turning to a very comely personage, who performed 
 a series of curtsies, like minute guns, at intervals, added, " If you 
 please, then, we'll retire to our apartment. Your housekeeper, I sup- 
 pose, Mr. Cashel?" 
 
 "I conclude so," said Roland; "but I am equally a stranger here 
 with yourself. 
 
 " Mrs. Moss, at your service, Sir," said the housekeeper, with ano- 
 ther curtsey. 
 
 " Mrs. Moss, then," said Roland, in an undertone, " I have only to 
 remark, that Lord and Lady Kilgoff must want for nothing here." 
 
 "1 understand. Sir," said Mrs. Moss; and whether the words, or 
 the look that accompanied them should bear the blame, but they cer- 
 tainly made Cashel look half angry, half ashamed. 
 
 " Then good night — or good morrow, I believe it should be," §aid 
 Lady Kilgoff. " I'm sure, in charity, we should not keep you from 
 your bed, a minute longer. You had a severe night outside." 
 
 "Good night — good night, my Lord," said Cashel ; and the hand- 
 some form of the lady moved proudly on, while the servant assisted the 
 poor decrepid husband slowly after. 
 
 Roland looked after them for an instant, and whether from some 
 curiosity to see the possessions which called him master, or that he felt 
 
294 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 indisposed to sleep, he passed out into the lawn and stood some 
 minutes gazing at the strange and somewhat incongruous pile before 
 him. 
 
 Perhaps something of disappointment mingled with his thoughts — 
 perhaps it were only that strange revulsion which succeeds to all long- 
 excited expectation, when the moment of satisfying it has come, and 
 speculation is at an end for ever ; but, he was turning away, in half sad- 
 ness, when he caught sight of a hand waving to him a salute from one 
 of the windows. He had just time to answer the gesture, when the 
 shutter was closed. There was one other saw the motion, and noted 
 well the chamber from whence it came. Linton, awoke by the arrival 
 of the carriage, had watched every step that followed, and now sat, with 
 half-drawn curtains, eagerly marking every thing that might minister to 
 his jealous anger. 
 
 As for Cashel, he sauntered on into the wood, his mind wandering 
 on themes, separated by nearly half the world from where his steps 
 were straying. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXni. 
 
 And while the scene around them smiled 
 With pleasant talk the way beguiled. 
 
 Haile's Rambles. 
 
 As Roland Cashel strolled along alone, he could not divest himself of 
 a certain feeling of disappointment, that, up to the present, at least, all 
 his wealth had so little contributed to realise those illusions he had so 
 often fancied. The plots, the wiles, and cunning schemes by which he 
 had been surrounded, were gradually revealing themselves to his senses, 
 and he was rapidly nearing the fatal " bourne" which separates credulity 
 from distrust. 
 
 If we have passed over the events which succeeded the loss of the yacht 
 with some appearance of scant ceremony to our reader, it is because, 
 though in themselves not totally devoid of interest, they formed a species 
 of episode, which, only in one respect, bore reference to the current of 
 our story. It is not necessary, no more than it would be gratifying, to 
 us to inquire with what precise intentions Lady Kllgoff had sought to 
 distinguish Roland by marks of preference. Enough, if we say that he 
 was neither puppy enough to ascribe the feeling to any thing but a 
 caprice, nor was he sufficiently hacknied in the world's ways to suspect 
 it could mean more. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 295 
 
 That he was flattered by the notice, and fascinated by the charms of 
 a very lovely and agreeable woman, whose dependence upon him each 
 day increasing drew closer the ties of intimacy, is neither strange or un- 
 common no more than that she, shrewdly remarking the bounds of re- 
 spectful deference by which he ever governed his acquaintance, should 
 use greater freedoms and less restricted familiarity with liim, than had he 
 been one of those fashionable young men about town with whom the 
 repute of a conquest would be a triumph. 
 
 It is very difficult to say on what terms they lived in each other's 
 society. It were easier, perhaps, to describe it by negatives, and say 
 that assuredly, if it were not love, the feeling between them was just as 
 little, that which subsists between brother and sister. There was an 
 almost unbounded confidence — an unlimited trust — much asking of ad- 
 vice, and, in fact, as many of my readers will say, fully as much peril as 
 need^ be. 
 
 From her Cashel first learned to see the stratagems and schemes by 
 which his daily life was beset. Too proud to bestow more than a mere 
 passing allusion to the Kennyfecks, she directed the whole force of her 
 attack upon that far more dangerous group, in whose society Roland 
 had lately lived. For a time she abstained altogether from even a 
 chance reference to Linton ; but at length, as their intimacy ripened, she 
 avowed her fear of him in all its fulness. When men will build up 
 the edifice of distrust, it is wonderful with what ingenuity they will 
 gather all the scattered materials of doubt, and with what skill arrange 
 and combine them ! A hundred little circumstances of a suspicious 
 nature now rushed to Roland's memory, and his own conscience corro- 
 borated the history she drew of the possible mode by which Linton 
 acquired an influence over him. 
 
 That Linton had been the " evil genius" of many, Cashel had often 
 heard before, but always from the lips of men ; and it is astonishing, 
 vv'hether the source be pride, or something less stubborn, but the warn- 
 ing which we reject so cavalierly from our fellows, comes with a 
 wondrous force of conviction from the gentler sex. 
 
 For the heavy sums he had lost at play — for all the wasteful outlay 
 of his money Cashel cared little ; but for the humiliating sense of being a 
 '' dupe" and " a tool," his outraged pride suff'ered deeply — and when Lady 
 Kilgoff drew a picture, half real, half imaginary, of the game which 
 his subtle associate was playing, Roland could scarce restrain himself 
 from openly declaring a rupture, and, if need be, a quarrel with him. 
 
 It needed all her persuasions to oppose this course ; and indeed, if 
 she had not made use of one unanswerable argument, could she have, 
 succeeded. This was the inevitable injury Linton could inflict upon 
 
296 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 her^ by ascribing the breach to her influence. It would, be easy 
 enough from such materials as late events suggested, to compose a history 
 that would ruin her. Lord Kilgoff's lamentable imbecility, the result of 
 that fatal night of danger — Cashel's assiduous care of her — her own 
 most natural dependence upon him — all these, touched on with a 
 woman's tact and delicacy, she urged, and at last obtained his pledge 
 that he would leave to time and opportunity the mode of terminating an 
 intimacy he had begun to think of with abhorrence. 
 
 If there be certain minds to whom the very air they breathe is doubt, 
 there are others to whom distrust is absolute misery. Of these latter 
 Cashel was one. Nature had made him frank and free-spoken, and the 
 circumstances of his early life had encouraged the habit. To nourish a 
 grudge would have been as repulsive to his sense of honour, as it would 
 be opposed to all the habits of his buccaneering life. To settle a dis- 
 pute with the sword was invariably the appeal among his old comrades, 
 and, such arbitraments are those, which certainly leave the fewest traces 
 of lingering malice behind them. To cherish and store up a secret 
 wrong and wait in patience for the day of reckoning, had something of 
 the Indian about it, that in Roland's eyes augmented its atrocity. 
 
 Oppressed with thoughts like these, and associating every vexation he 
 suffered as in some way connected with that wealth whose possession he 
 fancied was to satisfy every wish, and every ambition, he sauntered on, 
 little disposed to derive pleasure from the presence of those external 
 objects which fortune had made his own. 
 
 " When I was poor," thought he, *' I had warm and attached friends, 
 ready to exult in my successes, and sympathise with me in my sorrows. 
 If I had enemies, they were brave fellows, as willing to defend their 
 cause with the sword as myself. None flattered or frowned on him 
 who was richer than the rest. No subtle schemes lay in wait for 
 him whose unsuspecting frankness exposed him to deception ; we were 
 * bons Camarades,' at least," said he aloud, *' and from what I have seen of 
 the great world, I've lived to prize the distinction." 
 
 From this reverie he was suddenly recalled by observing, directly in 
 front of him, an elderly gentleman who, in a stooping posture, seemed to 
 seek for something among the dry leaves and branches beside a low 
 wicket. 
 
 " This is the first fruit of our gay neighbourhood," said the old man, 
 testily, as he poked the dead leaves with his cane ; " we're lucky if they 
 leave us without more serious inconvenience." 
 
 "Can I assist you in your search — have you lost something?" said 
 Cashel, approaching. 
 
 ** There is a key — the key of the wicket, hid somewhere hereabouts, 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 297 
 
 young man," said the other, who, scarcely bestowing a look upon Roland, 
 continued his investigation as busily as before. 
 
 Cashel, undaunted by the somewhat ungracious reception, now aided 
 him in his search, while the other continued, " I've known this path for 
 nigh forty years, and never remember this wicket to have been locked 
 before. But so it is. My old friend is afraid of the invasion of this 
 noisy neighboiu-hood, and has taken to lock and key to keep them out. 
 The key, he promised to hide at the foot of this tree." 
 
 " And here it is," said Cashel, as he unlocked the wicket and flung it 
 wide. 
 
 '* Many thanks for your help, but you have a better reward than my 
 gratitude, in eyes some five and thirty years younger," said the old man, 
 with the same half testy voice as before. " Perhaps you'd like to see 
 the grounds here yourself ; come along. The place is small, but far 
 better kept than the great demesne, I assure you ; just as'many a humble 
 household is more orderly than many a proud retinue." 
 
 Roland was rather pleased by the quaint oddity of his new companion, 
 of whom he thought, but could not remember where, he had seen the 
 features before. 
 
 " You are a stranger in these parts, I conclude," said the old man. 
 '^ Yes. I only arrived here about an hour ago, and have seen nothing 
 save the path from the hall to this spot." 
 
 " There's little more worth the seeing on yonder side of the paling. 
 Sir. A great bleak expanse with stunted trees and a tasteless mansion, 
 full of, I take it, very dubious company ; but perhaps you are one of 
 them ?" 
 
 " I confess as much," said Roland, laughing, " but as I have not seen 
 them, don't be afraid I'll take up the cudgels for my associates." 
 
 "Labour lost if you did," said the other, bluntly. " I only know of 
 them what the newspapers tell us, but their names are enough." 
 " Are they all in the same category, then ?" asked Cashel, smiling. 
 " Pigeons or hawks — dupes or swindlers — an ugly alternative to choose 
 from." 
 
 "You are candid certainly, friend," said Cashel, half angrily ; " but 
 don't you fancy there is rather too much of frankness in saying this to 
 one who has already said he is of the party ?" 
 
 " Just as he likes to take it," said the old man, bluntly. " The wise 
 man takes warning where the fool takes umbrage. There's a fine view 
 for you — see, there's a glorious bit of landscape," cried he, enthusias- 
 tically, as they came to an opening of the wood and beheld the wide ex- 
 panse of Lough Derry, with its dotted islands and ruined tower. 
 
298 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Roland stood still, silently gazing on the scene, whose beauty was 
 heightened by all the strong effect of light and shade. 
 
 " I see you have an eye for landscape," said the old man, as he 
 watched the expression of Cashel's features. 
 
 " I've been a lover of scenery in lands where the pursuit was well 
 rewarded," said Roland, thoughtfully. 
 
 " That you may; but never in a country where the contemplation 
 called for more thought than in this before you. See, yonder, 
 where the lazy smoke rises heavily from the mountain side, high up 
 there amid the fern and the tall heath, that, is a human dwelling — there, 
 lives some cottier a life of poverty as uncheered and unpitied as though 
 he made no part of the great family of man. For miles and miles of 
 that dreary mountain some small speck may be traced where men live 
 and grow old and die out, unthought of and uncared for by all beside. 
 This misery would seem at its full, if now and then seasons of sickness 
 did not show how fever and ague can augment the sad calamities of daily 
 life. There are men, aye, and old men, too, who never have seen bread 
 for years, I say, save when some gamekeeper has broken it to feed the 
 greyhounds in a coursing party." 
 
 " And whose the fault of all this ?" said Cashel, eagerly. 
 
 " It is easy to see. Sir," said the other, " that you are no landed pro- 
 prietor, for not only you had not asked the question, but you had not 
 shown so much emotion when putting it. So it is," muttered he to 
 himself. *' It is so, ever. They, have most sympathy with the poor 
 who have least the power to help them. 
 
 " But I ask again, whose the fault of such a system ?" cried Cashel. 
 
 "Ask your host yonder, and you'll soon have an answer to your 
 question. You'll hear enough of landlord's calamities — wrecking tenan- 
 try — people in barbarism — irreclaimably bad — sunk in crime, black in 
 ingratitude. Ask the Peasant, and he'll tell you of clearances — whole 
 families turned out to starve and die in the highways — the iron pres- 
 sure of the agent in the dreary season of famine and fever. Ask the 
 Priest, and he will say, it is the galling tyranny of the " rich man's church" 
 establishment consuming the substance, but restoring nothing to the 
 people. Ask the Rector, and he'll prove, it is Popery — the debasing 
 slavery of the very blackest of all superstitions, and so on ; each throw 
 upon another the load which he refuses to bear his share of, and the end 
 is, we have a reckless gentry and a ruined people ; all the embittering 
 hatred of a controversy, and little of the active working of christian 
 charity. Good bye. Sir. I ask pardon for inflicting something like a ser- 
 mon upon you. Good bye." 
 
 " And yet," said Cashel, " you have only made me anxious to hear 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 299 
 
 more from you. May I ask if we are likely to meet again, and 
 where ?" 
 
 " If you should chance to he sick during- your visit here, and send for 
 the Doctor, it's likely they'll fetch me, as there is no other here." 
 
 Cashel started, for he at once remembered that the speaker was Dr. 
 Tiernay, the friend of his tenant Mr. Corrigan ; as the Doctor did not 
 recognise him, however, Roland resolved to keep his secret as long as he 
 could. 
 
 " There, Sir/' said Cashel, *' I see some friends accosting you. I'll 
 say good bye." 
 
 '' Too late to do so now," said the other, half sulkily. " Mr. Corrigan 
 would feel it a slight if you turned back, when his table was spread for 
 a meal — you'll have to breakfast here. 
 
 Before Roland could answer, Mr. Corrigan came forward from beneath 
 the porch, and, with a hand to each, bid them welcome. 
 
 " I was telling this gentleman," said Tiernay, " that he is too far 
 within your boundaries for retreat — he was about to turn back." 
 
 " Nay, nay," said the old man, smiling, " an old fellow like you or me 
 may do a churlish thing, but a young man's nature is fresher and 
 warmer. I tell you, Tiernay, you're quite wrong, this gentleman will 
 breakfast here." 
 
 " With pleasure," said Cashel, cordially, and entered the cottage. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Aye, Sir, I saw him 'hind the arras. 
 
 Sir Gavin. 
 
 Cashel would have devoted more attention to the tasteful arrange- 
 ment of the drawing-room into wliich they were ushered, if he had not 
 been struck with the handsome and graceful form of a young girl, who 
 from time to time passed before his eyes in an inner chamber, engaged 
 in the office of preparing breakfast, and whom he at once recognised as 
 the grand-daughter of whom Linton wrote. 
 
 " We were talking of poor Ireland," said Tiernay, "and all her sor- 
 rows." 
 
 " I'll engage you were," cried Corrigan, laughing, " and I'll swear you 
 did not make a mournful topic a whit less gloomy by your way of treating 
 it ; and that's what he calls entertaining a stranger, Sir ; like a bankrupt 
 merchant amusing a party by a sight of his schedule. Now, I'll wager 
 
300 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 a trifle, my young friend would rather hear where a brace of cocks was 
 to be found, or the sight of a neat grass country to ride over after the 
 fox-hounds — and I can do both one and the other. But here comes 
 Mary. My grand-daughter, Miss Leicester, Sir." 
 
 Mary saluted the stranger with an easy gracefulness, and she shook 
 the Doctor's hand cordially. 
 
 "You are a little late, Doctor,'' said she, as she led the way into the 
 breakfast -room. 
 
 " That was in part owing to that rogue Keane, who has taken to lock- 
 ing the gate of the avenue, by way of seeming regular, and some one 
 else has done the same with the wicket here. Now, as for fifty years 
 back all the cows of the country have strayed through the one, and all 
 the beggars through the other, I don't know what's to come of it." 
 
 '•' I suppose the great house is filling," said Mary, to withdraw him 
 from a grumbling theme ; *' we heard the noise of several arrivals this 
 morning early." 
 
 " This gentleman can inform you best upon all that," said Tiernay; 
 " he himself is one of the company." 
 
 '• But I am ignorant of every thing," said Cashel, "I only arrived 
 here a little after daybreak, and not caring to sleep, I strolled out, when 
 my good fortune threw me into your way." 
 
 " Your friends are likely to have fine weather, and I am glad of it," 
 said Corrigan. This country, pretty enough in sunshine, looks bleak and 
 dreary when the sky is louring ; but I've no doubt you^d rather have 
 
 A southerly wind, and a cloudy sky, 
 
 as the song says, than the brightest morning that ever welcomed a lark. 
 Are you fond of hunting ?" 
 
 " I like every kind of sport, where horse, or gun, or hound can enter, 
 but I've seen most of such pastimes in distant countries, where the game 
 is different from here, and the character of the people just as unlike." 
 
 " I have hunted the wild-boar myself," said old Corrigan, proudly, 
 *' in the royal forests at Meudon and Fontainbleau." 
 
 " I speak of the antelope and the jaguar — the dark leopard of Guiana, 
 or the brown bison of the Andes." 
 
 '' That is, indeed, a manly pastime," said Mary, enthusiastically. 
 
 " It is so," said Cashel, warmed by the encouragement of her remark, 
 " more even for the endurance and persevering energy it demands than 
 for its peril. The long days of toil in search of game, the nights 
 of waking watchfulness, and then the strange characters and adventures 
 among which you are thrown, all make up a kind of life so unlike the 
 daily world." 
 
 *' There is, as you say, something highly exciting in all that," said 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 301 
 
 Corrigan, " but to my thinking, hunting is a Royal pastime, and loses 
 half of its prestige when deprived of the pomp and circumstance of its 
 courtly following. When 1 think of the old forest echoing to the tan- 
 tarara of the cor de chasse^ the scarlet clad '^ piqueurs" with lance and 
 cutlass, the train of courtiers mounted on their high-mettled steeds, dis- 
 playing all the address of the salon, and all the skill of the chase to 
 him who was the centre of the group — the King himself." 
 
 " Are you not forgetting the fairest part of the pageant, papa ?" 
 broke in Mary. 
 
 " No, my dear, that group usually waited to join us as we returned. 
 Then, when the * Retoun de la chasse^ rung out from every horn, and the 
 whole wood re-echoed with the triumphant sounds, then, might be seen the 
 Queen and her ladies advancing to meet us. I think I see her yet, 
 the fair-haired Queen, the noblest and most beautiful in all that lovely 
 circle, mounted on her spotted Arabian, who bore himself proudly 
 beneath his precious burden. Ah, too truly did Burke say * the Age of 
 Chivalry was past,' or never had such sorrows gone unavenged ." 
 
 " Young gentleman, I know not whether you have already conceived 
 strong opinions upon politics, and whether you incline to one or other 
 of the great parties that divide the kingdom, but one thing I would 
 beseech you — be a monarchist. There is a steadfast perseverance in 
 clinging to the legitimate sovereign. Like the very observance of truth 
 itself, shake the conviction once, and there is no limit to scepticism." 
 
 *' Humph !" muttered Tiernay, half aloud. " Considering how royalty 
 treated your ancestors, your ardour in their favour might be cooled a 
 little." 
 
 *' What's Tiernay saying ?" said the old man. 
 
 " Grumbling, as usual, papa," said Mary, laughing, and not willing 
 to repeat the remark. 
 
 " Trying to give a man a bias in politics," said the Doctor, sarcas- 
 tically, " is absurd, except you accompany the advice with a place. A 
 man's political opinions are born with him, and he has as much to do 
 with the choice of his own Christian name, as whether he'll be a Whig 
 or a Tory. 
 
 *' Never mind him. Sir," said Corrigan to Cashel, " one might tra- 
 vestie the well-known epigram, and say of him that he never said a kind 
 thing, or did a rude one, in his life." 
 
 " The greater fool he then," muttered Tiernay, " for the world likes 
 him best who does the exact opposite ; and here comes one to illustrate 
 my theory. There, I see him yonder — so I'll step into the library and 
 look over the newspaper." 
 
 " He cannot endure a very agreeable neighbour of ours — a Mr. Lin- 
 
302 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 ton," said Corrigan, as the Doctor retired ; ** and makes so little secret 
 of his dislike, that I am always glad when they avoid a meeting." 
 
 " Mr. Linton is certainly more generous," said Mary, "for he enjoys 
 the Doctor's eccentricity without taking offence at his rude humour." 
 
 *• Good breeding can be almost a virtue," said the old man, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " It has this disadvantage, however," said Cashel ; " It deceives men, 
 who, like myself, have little knowledge of life, to expect far more from 
 politeness than it is ever meant to imply ; just as on the Lima shore, 
 when we carried off a gold Madonna, we were never satisfied if we 
 missed the diamond eyes of the image." 
 
 The old man and his grand-daughter almost started at the strange 
 illustration ; but their attention was now called off by the approach of 
 Linton, whom they met as he reached the porch. 
 
 " Come here a mom.ent. Sir," said the Doctor, addressing Cashel 
 from the little boudoir ; " here are some weapons of very old date found 
 among the ruins beside where we stand ;" and Roland had just time to 
 quit the breakfast-room before Linton entered it. 
 
 " The menagerie fills fast," said Linton, as he advanced gaily into 
 the apartment, " some of our principal lions have come ; more are ex- 
 pected ; and all the small cages have got their occupants." 
 
 " I am dying of curiosity," said Mary. " Tell us every thing about 
 every body. Who have arrived ?" 
 
 " We have every thing of a household save the host. He is absent ; 
 and, stranger than all, no one knows where." 
 
 " How singular," exclaimed Corrigan. 
 
 " Is it not ? He arrived this morning with the Kilgoffs, and has 
 not since been heard of. I left his amiable guests at the breakfast- 
 table conversing on his absence, and endeavouring to account for it 
 under every variety of " shocking accident" one reads of in the morning 
 papers. The more delicately-minded were even discussing, in whispers, 
 how long it would be decent to stay in a house if the owner committed 
 suicide." 
 
 " This is too shocking," said Mary. 
 
 " And yet there are men who do these things ! Talleyrand, it 
 was, I believe, who said that the fellow who shot himself, showed a great 
 want of ' savoir vivre.' Well, to come back : we have the Kilgoffs, 
 "whom I have not seen as yet ; the Meeks, father and daughter ; the 
 MacFarlines ; Mrs. White and her familiar ; a distinguished author ; 
 the whole Kennyfeck tribe , Frobisher ; some five or six cavalry subal- 
 terns ; and a large mob of strange-looking people of bot^ sexes, making 
 up what in racing slang is called the * ruck' of the party." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 303 
 
 " Will it not tax your ingenuity, Mr. Linton, to amuse, or even to 
 preserve concord among* such a heterogeneous multitude ?" said Mary. 
 
 " I shall amuse them by keeping them at feud with each other, and, 
 when they weary of that, let them have a grand attack of the whole line 
 upon their worthy host and entertainer. Indeed, already signs of rebel- 
 lious ingratitude have displayed themselves. You must know that there 
 has been a kind of petty scandal going about respecting Lady Kilgoff 
 and Mr. Cashel." 
 
 "My dear sir," said Mr. Corrigan, gravely, but with much courtesy, 
 *' when my grandaughter asked you for the latest news of your gay house- 
 hold, she did so in all the inconsiderate ignorance her habits and age 
 may warrant ; but neither she nor I cared to hear more of your guests 
 than they ought to have reported of them, or should be repeated to the 
 ears of a young lady." 
 
 " I accept the rebuke with less pain," said Linton, smiling easily, 
 " because it is, in part at least, unmerited. If you had permitted me to 
 continue, you should have seen as much." Then, turning to Miss Lei- 
 cester, he added, " You spoke of amusement, and you'll acknowledge 
 we are not idle. Lord Charles Frobisher is already marking out a race- 
 course ; Meek is exploring the political leaning of the borough ; the 
 Kenny fecks are trying their voices together in every room of the house ; 
 and Lady Janet has every * casserole' in the kitchen engaged in the 
 preparation of various vegetable abominations which she and Sir 
 Andrew take before breakfast ; and what, with the taking down and 
 putting up of beds, the tuning of pianofortes, sol-faing here, bells ring- 
 ing there — cracking of tandem whips — firing off percussion caps — 
 screaming to grooms out of window, and slamming of doors. Babel was 
 a scene of peaceful retirement in comparison. As this, too, is but the 
 beginning, pray forgive me if my visits here be more frequent and en- 
 during than ever." 
 
 " Your picture of the company is certainly not flattering," said Mary. 
 
 "Up to their merits, notwithstanding ; but how could it be otherwise. 
 To make a house pleasant, to bring agreeable people together — to as- 
 semble those particles whose aggregate solidifies into that compact 
 mass called society, is far harder than is generally believed ; vulgar folk 
 attempt it by getting some celebrity to visit them. But what a failure 
 that is ! One lion will no more make a party than one swallow a summer. 
 New people, like our friend Cashel, try it by asking everybody. They 
 hope, by firing a heavy charge, that some of the shot will hit. Another 
 mistake! He little knows how many jealousies, rivalries, and small 
 animosities are now at breakfast together at his house, and how ready 
 
304 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 they are, when no other game offers, to make him the object of all their 
 spite and scandal." 
 
 ''But why?" said Mary. "Is not his hospitality as princely as it is 
 generously offered ; can they cavil with any thing in either the recep- 
 tion itself, or the manner of it ?" 
 
 " As that part of the entertainment entered into my functions, Miss 
 Leicester, I should say, certainly not. The whole has been well ' got up.* 
 I can answer for every thing save Cashel himself, — as Curran said, * I can 
 elevate all save the host.' He is irreclaimably * en arriere' — half dandy, 
 half Delaware, affecting the man of fashion, but, at hearty a prairie 
 hunter." 
 
 " Hold, Sir," cried Cashel, entering suddenly, his face crimson with 
 passion, " By what right do you presume to speak of me in this wise ?" 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha !" broke out Linton, as he fell into a chair in a burst of 
 admirably feigned laughter. " I told you, Miss Leicester, how it would 
 be, did I not say I should unearth the fox ? Ah ! Roland ; confess it, 
 you were completely taken in." 
 
 Cashel stared around for an explanation, and in the astonishment of 
 each countenance he fancied he read a condemnation of his conduct. 
 All his impulses were quick as thought, and so he blushed deeply for 
 his passionate outbreak, as he said, 
 
 " I ask pardon of you, Sir, and this lady, for my unseemly anger. 
 This gentleman certainly deserves no apology from me. Confound it, 
 Master Tom, but assuredly you don't fire blank cartridge to startle 
 your game." 
 
 " No use to tickle lions with straws," said Linton, and the 
 insinuated flattery succeeded. 
 
 *' Let me now bid you welcome to my cottage, Mr. Cashel," said 
 Corrigan ; " although this incognito visit was an accident, I feel happy 
 to see you here." 
 
 " Thank you, thank you," replied Cashel. " I shall be even more 
 grateful still if you permit me to join in Linton's petition, and occa- 
 sionally escape from the noisy festivities of the Hall, and come here." 
 
 While Corrigan and Cashel continued to interchange mutual assu- 
 rances of esteem and regard, Linton walked to a window with Miss 
 Leicester. 
 
 " We had no conception that our guest was Mi*. Cashel,'* said Mary ; 
 " he met Dr. Tiernay accidentally in the park, and came along with 
 him to breakfast." 
 
 "And did not the Doctor remember him," asked Linton, shrewdly. 
 
 " Oh, no ; he may probably recollect something of having met him 
 before, three weeks hence ; but he is so absent !" 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 305 
 
 " I thought Roland would have taken the quizzing better," said 
 Linton, thoughtfully. There's no knowing any man, or — woman either. 
 You perceived what I was at, certainly." 
 
 "No, indeed. I was as much deceived as Mr. Cashel. I thought, 
 to be sure, that you were unusually severe, but I never suspected the 
 object." 
 
 " How droll. Well, I am a better actor than I fancied," said 
 Linton, laughing ; then added, in a lower tone, " not that the lesson 
 should be lost upon him ; for, in sober earnest, there was much truth 
 in it." 
 
 '* We were greatly pleased with him," said Mary ; '•' and now, knowing 
 who he is, and what temptations such a young man has to over- 
 estimate himself, are even more struck by his unassuming quietude." 
 
 Linton only smiled, but it was a smile of most compassionate pity. 
 
 " I conclude that you mean to show yourself to your company, then, 
 Mr. Cashel," said he, turning suddenly about. 
 
 ^'Tm ready," said Roland; "I'd go, however, with an easier con- 
 science, if Mr. Corrlgan would only promise me to come and see us 
 there sometimes." 
 
 " I'm a very old fellow, Mr. Cashel, and have almost outlived the 
 habits of society ; but if any one's invitation shall bring me beyond 
 these walls, it shall be yours." 
 
 '' I must be content with that," said Roland, as he shook the 
 proffered hand, and then, with a cordial farewell to Miss Leicester, 
 took Linton's arm, and retired. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 If you show him ha Hyde Park — Lauk! how they wiU stare ! 
 Though a very smart figure in Bloomshury Square. 
 
 The Snob. 
 
 CASHEii's was not a nature to dwell upon a grievance, and he would 
 have, at once and for ever, forgotten the late scene with Linton if it were 
 not coupled in his mind with suspicions derived from various different 
 sources. This made him silent and reserved as he walked along, and 
 so palpably inattentive to all his companion's efforts at agreeability, that 
 Linton at last said, " Well, Cashel, if you can dispense with sleep, you 
 
 X 
 
306 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 certainly seem to take the compensation in dreaming. Here have I 
 been retailing for you the choicest bits of gossip and small-talk not 
 only without the shghtest gratitude, but even without common attention 
 on your part !" 
 
 *' Very true," said Cashel ; "the reproach is quite just, and no man 
 can be more agreeable at the expense of his friends than yourself." 
 
 " Still harping on my daughter — eh ?" cried Linton. " I never thought 
 you the man to misconstrue a jest, but if you really are offended with 
 my folly—" 
 
 " If I really were offended," said Cashel, almost sternly, " I should 
 not leave it to be inferred from my manner." 
 
 " That I am sure of," cried Linton, assuming an air of frankness; '^ and 
 now, since all that silly affair is forgotten — " 
 
 " I did not say so much," interrupted Cashel. " I cannot forget it, 
 and that is the very reason I am annoyed with myself, with you, and 
 with all the world." 
 
 ** Pooh! nonsense, man. You were not used to be so thin-skinned. 
 Let us talk of something else. Here are all our gay friends assembled — 
 how are we to occupy and amuse them ?" 
 
 Cashel made no reply, but walked on, seemingly lost in thought. 
 
 " By the way," said Linton, "you've told me nothing of your adven- 
 tures. Haven't you had something very like a shipwreck ?" 
 
 " The Yacht is lost," said Cashel, drily. 
 
 " Actually lost !" echoed the other, with well-assumed astonishment. 
 " How fortunate not to have had the Kennyfeck party on board, as I 
 beKeve you expected." 
 
 " I had the Kilgoffs, however," rejoined Roland. 
 
 " The Kilgoffs ! you amaze me. How did my Lord ever consent to 
 trust his most precious self on such an enterprise ?" 
 
 Cashel shrugged his shoulders, without uttering a word in reply. 
 
 " But come, do condescend to be a little more communicative. How, 
 and when, and where did the mishap occur?" 
 
 " She foundered on the southern coast some time after midnight on 
 the 15th. The crew and passengers escaped by the boats, and the craft 
 went to pieces." 
 
 "And the Kilgoffs, how did they behave in the moment of peril ?" 
 
 " My Lord seemed insensible to all around. Lady Kilgoff with a 
 dignified courage quite admirable." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Linton, slowly, while he fixed his eyes on Cashel's face, 
 where an expression of increased animation now displayed itself. 
 
 " She has a fine generous nature," continued Cashel, not heeding the 
 remark. " It is one of the saddest things to think of, how she ha3 
 been mated." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 307 
 
 " She is a Peeress," said Linton, curtly. 
 
 '* And what of that. Do your aristocratic distinctions close the heart 
 against every high and noble sentiment, or can they compensate for the 
 absence of every tie that attaches one to life? Is not some poor Indian 
 girl who follows her wild Ranchero husband through the dark valleys of 
 Guiana, not only a happier, but a better wife than your proud Peeress ?" 
 
 Linton shook his head and smiled, but did not reply. 
 
 " I see how my old prejudices shock you," said Cashel. " I only 
 grieve to think how many of them have left me, for I am sick — sick at 
 heart — of your gay and polished world. I am weary of its double-dealing, 
 and tired of its gilded falsehood. Since I have been a rich man, I have 
 seen nothing but the servile flattery of sycophancy, or the insidious 
 snares of deeper iniquity. There is no equality for one like myself. 
 The high-born wealthy would treat me as a parvenu, the vulgar rich 
 only reflect back my own eiTors in broader deformity. I have known 
 no other use of wealth than to squander it to please others; I have 
 played high, and lost deeply ; I have purchased a hundred things 
 simply because some others wished to sell them ; I have entertained and 
 sat among my company, waiting to catch and resent the covert insult 
 that men pass upon such as me ; and will you tell me — you, who know 
 the world well — that such a life repays one ?" 
 
 " Now, let me write the credit side of the account," said Linton, 
 laughing, and affecting a manner of easy jocularity. " You are young, 
 healthy, and high-spirited, with courage for any thing, and more money 
 than even recklessness can get rid of. You are the most popular fellow 
 among men, and the greatest favourite of the other sex, going. You 
 get credit for every thing you do, and a hundred others that men know 
 you could, but have not done. You have warm, attached friends ; I 
 can answer for one, at least, who'll lay down his life for you." He paused,, 
 expecting some recognition, but Cashel made no sign, and he resumed, 
 " You have only to propose some object to your ambition, whether it be 
 rank, place, or a high alliance, to feel that you are a favourite with 
 fortune." 
 
 " And is it by knowing beforehand that one is sure to win that gam- 
 bling fascinates ?" said Roland, slowly. 
 
 " If you only knew how the dark presage of failure deters the 
 unlucky man, Roland, you'd scarce ask the question !" rejoined Linton, 
 with an accent of sorrow, by which he hoped to awaken sympathy. 
 The stroke failed, however, for Cashel took no notice of it. 
 
 " There goes one whose philosophy of life is simple enough," said 
 Linton, as he stopped at a break in the holly hedge, beside which they 
 were walking, and pointed to Lord Charles, who, mounted on a blood- 
 
 x2 
 
308 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 horse, was leading' the way for a lady, equally well carried, over some 
 sporting -looking fences. 
 
 " I say, Jim," cried Frobisher, " let her go a little free at them ; 
 she's always too hot when you hold her back." 
 
 " You don't know, perhaps, that Jim is the lady," whispered Linton, 
 and withdrawing for secrecy behind the cover of the hedge. " Jim," 
 continued Linton, " is the familiar for Jemima. She's Meek's daughter, 
 and the wildest romp " 
 
 " By Jove, how well she cleared it. Here she comes back again," 
 cried Cashel, in all the excitement of a favourite sport. 
 
 " That's all very pretty, Jim," called out Frobisher, " but let me 
 observe it's a very Brumagem style of thing after all. I want you to ride 
 up to your fence with your mare in hand. Touch her lightly on the 
 flank, and pop her over quietly." 
 
 " She is too fiery for all that," said the girl, as she held in the mettle- 
 some animal, and endeavoured to calm her by patting the neck. 
 
 ^^ How gracefully she sits her saddle," muttered Cashel; and the 
 praise might have been forgiven from even a less ardent admirer of eques- 
 trianism, for she was a young, fresh-looking girl, with large hazel eyes, 
 and a profusion of bright auburn hair, which floated and flaunted in 
 every graceful wave around her neck and shoulders. She possessed, 
 besides, that inestimable advantage as a rider which perfect fearlessness 
 supplies, and seemed to be insjiired with every eager impulse of the 
 bounding animal beneath her. 
 
 As Cashel continued to look, she had taken the mare a canter round 
 fi large grass-field, and was evidently endeavouring, by a light hand and 
 a soothing caressing voice, to calm down her temper. — Stooping, as she 
 went, in the saddle to pat the animal's shoulder, and almost bending 
 her own auburn curls to the counter. 
 
 " She is perfect!" cried Roland, in a very ecstacy ; " see that, Linton? 
 Mark how she sways herself in her saddle." 
 
 " That comes of wearing no stays," said Linton, drily, as he pro- 
 ceeded to light a cigar. 
 
 " Now she's at it. Here she comes !" cried Cashel, almost breathless 
 with anxiety; for the mare, chafed by the delay, no sooner was turned 
 towards the fence, once more, than she stretched out and dashed wildly 
 at it. 
 
 It was a moment of intense interest, for the speed was far too great 
 to clear a high leap with safety; the fear was, however, but momentary, 
 for, with a tremendous bound, the mare cleared the fence, and after a 
 couple of minutes cantering, stood with heaving flanks and swelling 
 nostril beside the other horse. 
 
ROLAXD CASHEL. 309 
 
 " You see my misfortune, I suppose," said the girl, addressing 
 Frobisher. 
 
 " No. She's not cut about the legs," said he, as he bent down in his 
 saddle and took a most searching survey of the animal. 
 
 " No, the hack is all right. But don't you perceive that bit of blue 
 cloth flaunting yonder on the hedge — that is part of my habit. See what 
 a tremendous rent is here — I declare, Charley, it is scarcely decent." 
 And to illustrate the remark, she wheeled her horse round so as to show 
 the fringed and jagged end of her riding-habit, beneath which a very 
 finely turned ancle and foot were now seen. 
 
 " Then, why don't you wear trousers, like every body else ?" said 
 Frobisher, gruffly, and scarce bestowing" even a passing glance at the 
 w-ell-arched instep. 
 
 " Because I never get time to dress like any one else. You order me 
 out like one of your Newmarket boys," replied she, pettishly. 
 
 " By Jove, I wish any one of them had got your hand." 
 
 " To say nothing of the foot, Charley," said she, roguishly, and 
 endeavouring to arrange her torn drapery to the best advantage. 
 
 " No. That may do to astonish our friend Cashel, and make ' ray 
 Lady' jealous. By the way, Jim, I don't see why you shouldn't * enter 
 for the plate' as well as the Kennyfeck girls." 
 
 " I hke you better, Charley," said she, curveting her horse and 
 passaging him alternately from side to side. 
 
 " This is the second time to-day I have played the eaves-dropper 
 unconsciously," said Roland, in a whisper; " and with the proverbial 
 fortune of the listener in both cases." And with these words he moved 
 on, leaving Linton still standing opposite the opening of the hedge. 
 
 Cashel had not advanced many paces beneath the shelter of the tall 
 hollies, when Frobisher accidentally caught sight of Linton, and called 
 out, " Ha, Tom — found you at last. Where have you been hiding the 
 whole morning — you that should, at least, represent our host here ?" 
 
 Linton muttered something, while, by a gesture, he endeavoured to 
 caution Frobisher, and apprise him of Cashel's vicinity. The fretful 
 motion of his horse, however, prevented his seeing the signal, and he 
 resumed : 
 
 " One of my people tells me that Cashel came with the Kilgoffs 
 this morning. I say, Tom, you'll have to look sharp in that quarter. 
 Sob, there — quiet, Gustave — gently, man." 
 
 " He's too fat, 1 think. You always have your cattle too heavy," said 
 Linton, hoping to change the topic. 
 
 "He carries flesh well. But what is it I had to tell you? Oh, I 
 remember now — about the Yacht Club. I have just got a letter fro 
 
310 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Derwent, in which he says the thing is impossible. IJis remark is 
 more true than courteous. He says, ' It's all very well in such a place 
 as Ireland to know such people, but that it won't do in England — besides 
 that, if Cashel does wish to get among men of the world, he ought 
 to join some hght cavalry corps for a year or so, and stand pluck- 
 ing by Stanhope, and Dashfield, and the rest of them. They'll bring 
 him out if he'll only pay handsomely.' Soh there, man, — do, be quiet, 
 will you ? The end of it is, that Derwent will not put his name up. 
 I must say it's a disappointment to me, but, as a younger brother, I have 
 only to smile and submit." 
 
 While Lord Charles was retailing this piece of information in no very 
 measured tone, and only interrupted by the occasional impatience of his 
 horse, Linton's eyes were fixed on Cashel, who, at the first mention of 
 his own name, increased his speed so as to suggest the fond hope 
 that some, at least, of this unwelcome intelligence might have escaped 
 him. 
 
 " You'll have to break the thing to him, Tom," resumed Lord Charles. 
 " You know him better than any of us, and how the matter can be best 
 touched upon." 
 
 " Not the slightest necessity for that now,'' said Linton, with a low, 
 deliberate voice. 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 " Because you have just done so yourself. If you had only paid the 
 least attention to my signal, you'd have seen that Cashel was only a few 
 yards in front of me during the entire of your agreeable revelations." 
 
 " By Jove !" exclaimed Froblsher, as his head dropped forward in 
 overwhelming confusion. ^* What is to be done?" 
 
 " Rather dlfiicult to say, if he heard all," said Linton, coolly. 
 
 " You'd say it was a quiz, Tom. Youd pretend that you saw him all 
 the while, and only did the thing for joke. sake — eh?" 
 
 " Possibly enough I might," replied Linton ; " but you couldn't." 
 
 " How very awkward, to be sure," exclaimed Froblsher. ** I say, 
 Jim, I wish you'd make up to Cashel a bit, and get us out of this scrape. 
 There's Tom ready to aid and abet you, if only to take him out of * the 
 Kilgoffs" way." 
 
 " There never was a more propitious moment. Miss Meek," said 
 Linton, passing through the hedge, and approaching close to her. 
 " He's a great prize, — the best estate in Ireland." 
 
 " The nicest stable of horses in the whole country," echoed Fro- 
 blsher. 
 
 *' A good-looking fellow, too ; only wanting a little training to make 
 presentable anywhere." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 311 
 
 " That white barb, with the flea-bitten flank, would carry you to 
 perfection, Jim." 
 
 " He'll be a Peer one of these days, if he is only patient enough not 
 to commit himself in politics." 
 
 " And such a hunting-country for you^' said Frobisher, in ecstacy. 
 
 *' I tell you I don't care for him ; I never did," said the girl, as a 
 flush of half-angry meaning coloured her almost childish features. 
 
 " But don't you care to be mistress of fifteen thousand a year, and 
 the finest stud in Ireland ?" 
 
 " Mayhap, a Countess," said Linton, quietly. " Your papa would 
 soon manage that." 
 
 " I'd rather be mistress of myself, and this brown mare, * Joan,' here; 
 that's all I know ; and Kll have nothing to do with any of your plots 
 and schemes," said she, in a voice whose utterance was that of emotion. 
 
 " That's it," said Frobisher, in a low tone to Linton ; " there's no 
 getting them, at that age, with a particle of brains." 
 
 *' They make up surprisingly for it afterwards," replied Linton, drily. 
 
 *' So you'll not consent, Jim," said Frobisher, in a half-coaxing 
 manner to the young girl, who, with averted head, sat in mingled sorrow 
 and displeasure. 
 
 " Well, don't be pettish about it ; I'm sure I thought it very generous 
 in me, considering — " 
 
 She looked round at this moment, and her large eyes were bent upon 
 him with a look which their very tears made passionately meaning. 
 
 — '' Considering what a neat finger you have on a young horse," said 
 he ; and she turned abruptly away, and, as if to hide her emotion, 
 spurred her mare into a bounding canter. 
 
 "Take care, Charley; take care what you're doing," said Linton, 
 with a look of consummate shrewdness. 
 
 Frobisher looked after her for a minute or two, and then seemed to 
 drop into a reverie, for he made no reply whatever. 
 
 " Let the matter stop where it is," said Linton, quietly, as if 
 replying to some acknowledgment of the other; "let it stop there, I 
 say, and one of these days, when she marries — as she unquestionably 
 ■will do, through Papa Uownie's means, somebody of influence, she'll be a 
 steadfast warm friend, never forgetting — nor ever wishing to forget 
 her childhood's companion. Go a little further, however, and you'll 
 just have an equally determined enemy. I know a little of both sides 
 of the question," added he, meditatively, " and it needs slight reflection 
 which to prefer." 
 
 '' How are you going to amuse us here, Mr. Linton ?" said she, can- 
 tering up at this moment, for it seems to me, as old Lord Kilgoff says 
 
312 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 that y/e are like to have a very dull house. People are ordering dinner 
 for their own small parties as unsociallj as though they were at the 
 Crown Inn, at Brighton." 
 
 " Yes, [by-the-by," said Frobisher, " I want to ask you about that. 
 Don't you think it were better to dash a little bit of * communism* 
 through your administration ?" 
 
 " I intend to send in my resignation as Premier, now that the head 
 of the state has arrived," said Linton, smiling dubiously. 
 
 " I perceive," said Frobisher, shrewdly, " you expect that the go- 
 vernment will go to pieces, if you leave it." 
 
 " The truth is, Charley," said he, dropping his voice to a low whisper, 
 and leaning his hand on the horse's mane, " our friend Roland is 
 rather too far in the category * Savage' for long endurance. He 
 grows capricious and self-opinionated. The thin plating comes off and 
 shows the Buccaneer at every slight abrasion." 
 
 " What of that ?" said Frobisher, languidly. " His book on Coutts's 
 is unexceptionable. Come, Tom, you are the only man here who has 
 a head for these things. Do exert yourself and set something a-going." 
 
 " Well, what shall it be ?'* said he, gaily. " Shall we get the country 
 people together, and have hack races? — shall we assemble the squires, 
 and have a ball ? — shall we start private theatricals ? What says Miss 
 Meek ?" 
 
 " I vote for all three. Pray do, Mr. Linton, you, who are so clever, 
 and can do every thing, make us gay. If we only go on, as we have 
 begun, the house will be like a model prison — on the separate and silent 
 system." 
 
 *' As you wish it," said Linton, bowing with assumed gallantry; 
 " and now to work at once." So saying, he turned towards the house, 
 the others riding at either side of him. 
 
 "What shall we do about Derwent's letter, Tom ?" asked Frobisher. 
 
 " Never speak of it ; the chances are that he has heard enough to 
 satisfy the most gluttonous curiosity. Besides, he has lost his Yacht." 
 Here he dropped his voice to a low muttering, as he said, " and, may 
 soon have a heavier loss !" 
 
 " Is his pace too fast ?" said Frobisher, who caught up the meaning, 
 although not the words. 
 
 Linton made no reply, for his thoughts were on another track ; then 
 suddenly catching himself, he said, " Come, and let us have a look at 
 the stables. I've not seen our stud yet," and they turned off from the 
 main approach and entered the wood once more. 
 
ROLAJsD CASHEL. 313 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 . And at last they find out to their greatest surprise, 
 That 'tis easier far to be "merry than wise." 
 
 Bell's Images. 
 
 " Here is Mr. Cashel ; here he is !" exclaimed a number of voices, as 
 Roland, with a heart full of indignant anger, ascended the ten*ace upon 
 which the great drawing-room opened ; and at every window of which 
 stood groups of his gay company. Cashel looked up, and beheld the 
 crowd of pleased faces wreathed into smiles of gracious welcome, and 
 then, he suddenly remembered that it was he who had imited all that 
 brilliant assemblage ; that, for him, all those winning graces were 
 assumed ; and that his gloomy thoughts, and gloomier looks, were but a 
 sony reception to offer them. 
 
 With a bold effort, then, to shake off the load that oppressed him, he 
 approached one of the windows, where Mrs. Kennyfeck and her two 
 daughters were standing, with a considerable sprinkling of yomig 
 dragoons around them. 
 
 " We are not to let you in, Mr. Cashel," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, from 
 within. "There has been a vote of the house against your admission." 
 
 " Not, surely, to condemn me unheard," said Roland ; " I might even 
 say, imaccused." 
 
 " How so," cried Miss Kennyfeck ; " is not your present position 
 your accusation ? Why are you there, while we are here ?" 
 
 " I went out for a walk, and lost myself in the woods." 
 
 " What does he say, ray dear," said Amit Fanny, fearful of losing a 
 word of the dialogue. 
 
 " That he lost himself, Madam," said one of the dragoons, drily. 
 
 "So, indeed, we heard, Sir," said the maiden lady, piteously ; '^but 
 1 may say I foresaw it all." 
 
 " You are an old fool, and, worse still, every one sees it," whispered 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck, in an accent that there was no mistaking, although 
 only a whisper. 
 
 " We considered that you had abdicated, Mr. Cashel,'' said Mrs. 
 White, who having in vain waited for Roland to approach the window 
 she occupied, was fain at last to join the others, "and we were de- 
 bating on what form of government to adopt. A Presidency, with Mr. 
 Linton " 
 
 " I see you are no Legitimist," slily remarked Miss Kennyfeck ; but 
 the other went on, " or an open Democracy." 
 
314 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " I'm for that," said a jolly-looking cavalry Captain. " Pray, Miss 
 Olivia Kennyfeck, vote for it too. I should like nothing so much as a 
 little fraternising." 
 
 " I have a better suggestion than either," said Roland, gaily ; " but 
 you must admit me ere I make it." 
 
 *' A device of the enemy," called out Mrs. White ; " he wants to 
 secure his own return to power." 
 
 " Nay, on honour," said he, solemnly ; '*^ I shall descend to the rank 
 of the humblest citizen, if my advice be acceded to, — to the humblest 
 subject of the realm." 
 
 *' Ye maunna open the window. Leddy Jannet has the rheumatics a' 
 dandering aboot her back a' the morning," said Sir Andrew, approach- 
 ing the group ; and then turning to Cashel said, 
 
 ** Glad to see ye. Sir; very glad indeed; tho', like Prince Charlie, 
 you're on the wrang side o' the wa'." 
 
 " Dear me !" sighed Meek, lifting his eyes from the newspaper, and 
 assuming that softly compassionate tone in which he always delivered the 
 most common-place sentiments, " how shocking ! To keep you out of 
 your own house, and the air quite damp. Do pray be careful and change 
 your clothes before you come in here." Then he finished in a whisper 
 to Lady Janet, " One never gets through a country visit without a 
 cold." 
 
 " Upon my word, I'll let him in," said Aunt Fanny, with a native 
 richness of accent that made her fair nieces blush. 
 
 " At last !" said Cashel, as he entered the room, and proceeded to 
 salute the company, with many of whom he had but the very slightest 
 acquaintance — of some he did not even remember the names. 
 
 The genial warmth of his character soon compelled him to feel heartily 
 what he had begun by feigning, and he bade them welcome with a cor- 
 diality that spread its kindly influence over all. 
 
 " I see," said he, after some minutes, " Lady Kilgoff has not joined 
 us, but her fatigue has been very great." 
 
 " They say my Lord's clean daft," said Sir Andrew. 
 
 " Oh, no. Sir Andrew," rejoined Roland; " our misfortune has shaken 
 his nerves a good deal, but a few days' rest and quiet will restore 
 him." 
 
 " He was na ower wise at the best, puir man," sighed the veteran, as 
 he moved away. 
 
 " Her Ladyship was quite a heroine — isn't that so ?" said Lady Janet, 
 tartly. 
 
 *' She held the rudder, or did something with the compass, I heard," 
 simpered a young lady in long flaxen ringlets. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 315 
 
 Cashel smiled, but made no answer. 
 
 " Oh, dear," sighed Meek, " and there was a dog that swam— or was 
 it you that swam ashore with a rope in your mouth?" 
 
 " I grieve to say, neither man nor dog performed the achievement." 
 
 "And it would appear that the horrid wretch — wliat's his name?" 
 asked Mrs. White of her friend Howie. 
 
 *• Whose name, Madam?" 
 
 " The man — the dreadful man, who planned it all. Sick — Sickamore 
 — no, not Sickamore — " 
 
 " Sickleton, perhaps," said Cashel, strangely puzzled to make out 
 what was coming. 
 
 *' Yes, Sickleton, had actually done the very same thing twice before, 
 just to get possession of the rich plate and all the things on board." 
 
 " This is too bad," cried Cashel, indignantly ; " really, Madam, you 
 must pardon my warmth, if it even verges on rudeness ; but the gentle- 
 man whose name you have associated with such iniquitous suspicions 
 saved all our lives." 
 
 " That's what I like in him better than all," whispered Aunt Fanny 
 to Olivia ; " he stands by his friends like a trump I" 
 
 " You have compelled me," resumed Cashel, " to speak of what 
 really I had much rather forget ; but I shall insist upon your patience 
 now for a few minutes, simply to rectify any error which may prevail 
 upon this affair." 
 
 With this brief prelude, Cashel commenced a narrative of the voyage 
 from the evening of the departure from Kingstown to the moment of the 
 vessel's sinking off the south coast. 
 
 If most of his auditors only listened as to an interesting anecdote, 
 to others, the story had a deeper meaning. The Kennyfecks were long- 
 ing to learn how the excursion originated, and whether Lady Kilgoff's 
 presence had been a pre-arranged plan, or a mere accidental occur- 
 rence. 
 
 " All's not lost yet, Livy/* whispered Miss Kennyfeck in her sister's 
 ear. " I give you joy," while a significant nod from Aunt Fanny seemed 
 to divine the sentiment and agree with it. 
 
 " And I suppose ye had na the vessel insm'ed ?" said Sir Andrew, at 
 the close of the narrative ; " what a sair thing to think o'." 
 
 "Oh dear, yes, to be sure!" ejaculated Meek, piteously ; "and the 
 cold, and the wetting, and the rest of it ! for of course you must have 
 met few comforts in that miserable fishing-hut.'* 
 
 " How picturesque it must have been," interposed Mrs. White ; " and 
 what a pity you had no means of having a drawing made of it. The 
 
316 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 scene at the moment of the yacht striking — the despair-struck sea- 
 men " 
 
 " Pardon me, Madam, for destroying even a particle of so ingenious 
 a fancy ; but the men evinced nothing of the kind ; they behaved well, 
 and with the calmest steadiness." 
 
 " It is scarcely too late yet," resumed the lady, unabashed ; " if you 
 would just describe it all carefully to Mr. Howie, he could make a 
 sketch in oils one would swear was taken on the spot." 
 
 " Quite impossible — out of the question," said Howie, who was always 
 ashamed at the absurdities which compromised himself, although keenly 
 alive to those which involved his neighbours. 
 
 '' We have heard much of Lady Kilgoff 's courage and presence of 
 mind,'* said Mrs. Kennyfeck, returning to a theme by which she cal- 
 culated on exploring into Cashel's sentiments toward that lady. " Were 
 they indeed so conspicuous ?" 
 
 " Can you doubt it, Madam?" said Lady Janet, tartly; " she gave 
 the most unequivocal proof of both — she remembered her husband !" 
 
 The tartness of this impertinent speech was infinitely increased by 
 the voice and manner of the speaker, and a half-suppressed titter ran 
 through the room, Cashel alone, of all, feeling annoyed and angry. 
 Aunt Fanny, always less occupied with herself than her neighbours, 
 quickly saw his irritation, and resolved to change a topic which more 
 than once had verged on danger. 
 
 " And now, Mr. Cashel," said she, " let us not forget the pledge on 
 which we admitted you." 
 
 '' Quite right," exclaimed Roland ; " I promised a suggestion ; here 
 it is—" 
 
 " Pardon me for interrupting," said Miss Kennyfeck ; " but in what 
 capacity do you make this suggestion ? are you still King, or have you 
 abdicated ?" 
 
 " Abdicated in all form," replied Roland, bowing with well-assumed 
 humility ; " as simple citizen I propose that we elect a * Queen,' to rule 
 despotically in all things ; uncontrolled and irresponsible." 
 
 " Oh, delightful ! admirable !" exclaimed a number of voices, among 
 which all the men and the younger ladies might be heard : Lady Janet 
 and Mrs. Kennyfeck, and a few others " of the senior service," as Mr. 
 linton would have called them, seeming to canvass the motion with 
 more cautious reserve. 
 
 " As it is to be an elective monarchy, Sir ?" said Lady Janet, with a 
 shrewd glance over all the possible candidates, " how do you propose 
 the choice is to be made?" 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 317 
 
 " That is to be for after- consideration," replied Roland; " we may 
 have universal suffrage and the ballot." 
 
 *' No, no, by Jove !" exclaimed Sir Harvey Upton ; " we must not 
 enter upon our new reign by a rebellion. Let only the men vote." 
 
 '• How gallant !" said Miss Kenny feck, sneeringly ; while a chorus of 
 *' How unfair!" " How ungenerous!" went through the room. 
 
 " What say ye to the plan they hae wi' the Pope ?" said Sir Andrew, 
 grinning maliciously ; " tak' the auldest o' the company." 
 
 This suggestion caused a laugh, in which certain parties did not join 
 over-heartily. Just at tliis moment the door opened, and Lord Kllgoff, 
 leaning on the arm of two servants, entered. He was deathly pale, and 
 seemed several years older ; but his face had acquired something of its 
 wonted expression ; and it was with a sad, but courteous smile, he re- 
 turned the salutations of the company. 
 
 *' Glad to see you amongst us, my Lord," said Cashel, as he placed 
 an arm-chair, and assisted the old man to his seat. " I have just been 
 telling my fnends that our country air and quiet will speedily restore you." 
 
 " Thank you very much, Sir," said he, taking Cashel's hand. '* \^'e 
 are both greatly indebted to your kindness, nor can we indeed ever hope 
 to repay it." 
 
 " Make him a receiver on the estate, then," whispered Lady Janet in 
 Miss Kennyfeck's ear, " and he'll soon pay himself." 
 
 '* Tell my Lord about our newly intended government, Mr. Cashel," 
 said Mrs. Kennyfeck ; " I'm sure it will amuse him ;" and Cashel, more 
 in obedience to the request, than from any conviction of its prudence, 
 proceeded to obey. One word only, however, seemed to fix itself on 
 the old man's memory. " Queen ! Queen !" repeated he several times to 
 himself. 
 
 " Oh, indeed, you expect her Majesty will honour you w itli a visit, 
 Sir?" 
 
 Cashel endeavoured to correct the misconception, but to no purpose, 
 the feeble intelligence could not relinquish its grasp so easily, and he 
 went on In a low rautteiing tone, 
 
 " Lady Kilgoff is the only Peeress here. Sir, remember that ; you 
 should speak to her about it, Mr. Cashel." 
 
 " I hope we are soon to have the pleasure of seeing Lady Kilgoff, my 
 Lord," whispered Cashel, half to concur with, half to turn the course of 
 convei'sation. 
 
 *' She will be here presently," said he, somewhat stiffly, as if some 
 unpleasant recollection was passing through his mind, and Cashel turned 
 away to speak with the others, who eagerly awaited to resume the in- 
 terrupted conversation. 
 
318 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Your plan, Mr. Cashel, we are dying to hear it," cried one. 
 
 " Oh, by all means ; how are we to elect the Queen ?" said another. 
 
 " What say you to a lottery ?" said he; "or something equally the 
 up-shot of chance. For instance, let the first lady who enters the room 
 be Queen." 
 
 " Very good, indeed," said Lady Janet, aloud ; then added in a 
 whisper, " I see tbat old Mrs. Malone with her husband toddling up the 
 avenue this instant." 
 
 " Olivia, my love," whispered Mrs. Kenny feck to her daughter, 
 " fetch me my work here, and don't be a moment away, child. He's 
 so amusing !" and the young lady glided unseen from the room at her 
 mamma's bidding. After a short but animated conversation, it was de- 
 cided that this mode of choice should be adopted ; and now all stood in 
 anxious expectancy to see who first should enter. At last footsteps were 
 heard approaching, and the interest rose higher. 
 
 " Leddy Janet was right," said Sir Andrew, with a grin, " ye'll hae 
 Mrs. Malone for your sovereign, I ken her step weel." 
 
 " By Jove," cried Upton, " I'll dispute the succession, that would 
 never do." 
 
 " That's a lighter tread and a faster," said Cashel, listening. 
 
 "There are two coming,*' cried Mrs. White, " I hear voices; how are 
 we then to decide ?" 
 
 There was no time to canvass this knotty point, when a hand was 
 heard upon the door-handle ; it turned, and just as the door moved, a 
 sound of feet upon the terrace without — running at full speed — turned 
 every eye in that direction, and the same instant Miss Meek sprang into 
 the room through the window, while Lord Charles and Linton hurried 
 after her, at the same moment that Lady Kilgofij followed by Olivia 
 Kennyfeck, entered by the door. 
 
 Miss Meek's appearance might have astonished the company, had 
 even her entree been more ceremonious, for she was without hat, her 
 hair falling in long dishevelled masses about her shoulders, and her 
 riding-habit, torn and ragged, was carried over one arm, with a freedom 
 much more in accordance with speed than grace. 
 
 " Beat by two lengths, Charley," cried she, in a joyous, merry laugh ; 
 beat in a canter — Mr. Linton nowhere.'* 
 
 " Oh dear me, what is all this, Jemima, love ?" softly sighed her 
 bland Papa ; " you've not been riding, I hope ?'' 
 
 " Schooling a bit with Charley, Pa, and as we left the nags at the 
 stable, they challenged me to a race home ; I don't think they'll do it 
 again. Do look how they're blown." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 319 
 
 Some of the company laughed good-humouredly at the girlish gaiety 
 of the scene. Others, among whom, it is sad to say, were many of the 
 younger ladies, made significant signs of being shocked by the inde- 
 corum, and gathered in groups to canvass the papa's indifference and the 
 daughter's indelicacy. Meanwhile Cashel had been completely occupied 
 with Lady Ealgoff, making the usual inquiries regarding fatigue and 
 rest, but in a manner that bespoke all his interest in a favoured guesfc. 
 " Are you aware to what high destiny the Fates have called you ?" said 
 he, laughing. " Some attain fortune by being first to seek her — you^ 
 on the contrary'-, win by dallying. We had decided, a few moments 
 before you came in, that the first lady who entered should be the Queen 
 of our party — this lot is yours." 
 
 " I beg to correct you, Mr. Cashel," cried Lady Janet, smartly, 
 " Miss Meek entered before her Ladyship." 
 
 '• Oh, yes ! Certainly ! Without a doubt I" resounded from the whole 
 company, who were not sorry to confer their suffrages on the madcap 
 girl, rather than the fashionable beauty. 
 
 " How distressing!" sighed Mr. Meek. " Oh, dear! I hope this is 
 not so — nay, I'm sure, Matilda, it cannot be the case." 
 
 '* You're thinking of George Colman, Meek — I see you are," cried 
 Linton. 
 
 '' No, indeed — no, upon honour — what was it about Colman ?" 
 
 *' The story is every body's story. The Prince insisted once that 
 George was his senior, and George only corrected him of his mistake 
 by saying that ' He could not possibly have had the rudeness to 
 enter the world before his Royal Highness.' " 
 
 " i\.h ! yes — very true — so it was," sighed Meek, who affected not to 
 perceive the covert sneer at his assumed courtesy. 
 
 While, therefore, the party gathered around Cashel, with eager assu- 
 rances of Miss Meek's precedence. Lady Kilgoff rising, crossed the room 
 to where that young lady was standing, and gracefully arranging her 
 loose flowing ringlets into a knot at the back of the head, fastened them 
 by a splendid comb, which she took from her own, and whose top was 
 fashioned into a handsome coronet of gold, saying, " The question of 
 legitimacy is solved for ever — the Pretender yields her crown to the 
 true Sovereign." 
 
 The gracefulness and tact of this sudden movement, calling forth the 
 warmest acknowledgments of all, save Lady Janet, who whispered, 
 " Miss Kenny feck, it is pretty clear, I fancy, who is to pay for the crown 
 jewels !" 
 
 "Am I really the Queen!" cried the young girl, half wild with 
 delight. 
 
320 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 "Most assuredly, Madam," said Linton, kissing her hand in deep 
 reverence. " I beg to be first to tender my homage." 
 
 "That's so like him!" cried she, laughing ; "but you shall be no 
 officer of mine. Where's Charley, I want to make him Master of the 
 Buck -hounds, if there be buck-hounds ?" 
 
 "Will you not appoint your ladies first, Madam," said Lady Janet ; 
 " or, are your preferences for the other sex, to leave us quite forgotten ?" 
 
 "Be all of you, every thing you please," rejoined the childish merry 
 voicCj " with Charley Frobisher for Master of the Horse." 
 
 *' Linton for Master of the Revels," said some one. 
 
 " Agreed," said she. 
 
 *' Mr. Cashel had better be First Lord of the Treasury, I suspect," 
 said Lady Janet, snappishly, " if the administration is to last." 
 
 "And if ye a' ways wear drapery o' this fashion," said Sir Andrew, 
 taking up the torn fragment of her riding-habit, as he spoke, " I maun 
 say, that the Mistress of the Robes will na be a sinecure." 
 
 " W'^ill any one tell me what are my powers?" said she, sitting down 
 with an air of mock dignity. 
 
 " Will any one dare to say, what they are not ?" responded Cashel. 
 
 " Have I unlimited command in every thing ?" 
 
 " In every thing. Madam, I, and all mine, are at your orders." 
 
 " That's what the farce will end in," whispered Lady Janet to Mrs. 
 Kennyfeck. 
 
 " Well then — to begin — the Court will dine with us to-day — to-mor- 
 row we will hunt in our royal forest — our private band — have we a pri- 
 vate band, Mr. Linton ?" 
 
 " Certainly, your Majesty ; so private as to be almost undiscoverable." 
 
 " Then our piivate band will perform in the evening ; perhaps, too, 
 we shall dance. Remember, ray Lords and Ladles, we are a young sove- 
 reign, who loves pleasure, and that a sad face, or a mournful one, is 
 treason to our person ; come forward now, and let us name our house- 
 hold." 
 
 While the group gathered around the wild and high-spirited girl, in 
 whose merry mood even the least disposed were drawn to participate, 
 Linton approached Lady Kilgoff, who had seated herself near a window, 
 and was affecting to arrange a frame of embroidery, on which she rarely 
 bestowed a moment's labour. 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 321 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 " I'll make her brew the beverage herself ; 
 With her own fingers stir the cup, 
 And know 'tis poison as she drinks it." 
 
 Harold. 
 
 Had Linton been about to renew an acquaintance -with one he had 
 scarcely known before, and who might possibly have ceased to remember 
 him, his manner could not have been more studiously diffident and re- 
 spectful. 
 
 " I rejoice to see your Ladyship here," said he, in a low, deliberate 
 voice ; " where, on the last time we spoke together, you seemed uncer- 
 tain of coming.'* 
 
 " Very true, Mr. Linton," said she, not looking up from her work ; 
 "my Lord" had not fully made up his mind." 
 
 " Say, rather, your Ladyship had changed yours," said he, with a cold 
 smile ; a privilege you are not wont to deny yourself. 
 
 " I might have exercised it oftener in life with advantage," replied 
 she, still holding her head bent over the embroidery frame. 
 
 "Don't you think that your Ladyship and I are old friends enough 
 to speak without inuendo ?" 
 
 " If we speak at all," said she, with a low but calm accent. 
 
 " True, that is to be thought of," rejoined he, with an unmoved 
 quietude of voice. " Being in a manner prepared for a change in your 
 Ladyship's sentiments towards me " 
 
 " Sir !" said she, interrupting, and as suddenly raising her face, 
 which was now covered with a deep blush. 
 
 " I trust I have said nothing to provoke reproof," said Linton, coldly. 
 "Your Ladyship is well aware if my words be not true. I repeat it, 
 then — your sentiments are changed towards me, or, the alteration is 
 not of mi/ choosing, I was deceived in the expression of them, when 
 last we met." 
 
 " It may suit your purpose. Sir ; but it can scarcely conform to the 
 generosity of a gentleman to taunt me with acceding to your request 
 for a meeting. If any other weakness can be alleged against me, pray 
 let me hear it." 
 
 " When we last met," said Linton, in a voice of lower and deeper, 
 meaning than before, " we did so that / might speak, and i/oic, hear the 
 avowal of a passion which for years has filled my heart — against which 
 I have struggled and fought in vain — to stifle which I have plunged 
 into dissipations that I detested, and followed ambitions I despised. 
 
 Y 
 
322 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 To obliterate all memory of which, I would stoop to crime itself, rather 
 than suffer on iu the hopeless misery I must do." 
 
 " I will hear no more of this," said she, pushing back the work-table, 
 and preparing to rise. 
 
 " You must, and you shall hear me. Madam," said he, replacing the 
 table and affecting to arrange it for her. " I conclude you do not wish 
 this amiable company to arbitrate between us." 
 " Oh, Sir ! Is it thus you threaten me ?" 
 
 " You should say promise, Madam. There can be no threat where 
 a common ruin impends on all concerned." 
 
 " To what end all this, Mr. Linton ?" said she. " You surely cannot 
 expect from me any return to a feeling which, if it once existed, you 
 yourself w^ere the means of uprooting for ever. Even you could scarcely 
 be ungenerous enough to persecute one for whose misery you have done 
 already too much ?" 
 
 " Will you accept my arm for half-an-hour ?" cried he, interrupting. 
 " I pledge myself it shall be the last time I either make such a request, 
 or even allude to this topic between us. On the pretence of showing 
 you the house, I may be able — if not to justify myself — nay, I see how 
 little you care for that — well, at least to assure you that I have no other 
 wish, no other hope, than to see you happy." 
 
 " I cannot trust you," said she, in a tone of agitation ; " already we 
 are remarked." 
 
 ** So I perceive," said he, in an under tone ; then added in a voice 
 audible enough to be heard by the rest, " I am too vain of my architec- 
 tural merits to leave their discovery to chance, and as you are good 
 enough to say you would like to see the house, pray will your Ladyship 
 accept my arm, while T perform the Cicerone on myself?" 
 
 The " coup" succeeded ; and, to avoid the difficulty and embarrass- 
 ment a refusal would have created, Lady Kilgoff arose, and prepared to 
 accompany him. 
 
 "Eh, what — what is't my Lady?" said Lord Kilgoff, suddenly awaking 
 from a kind of lethargic slumber, as she whispered some words in his ear. 
 
 " Her Ladyship is telling you not to be jealous, my Lord, while she is 
 making the tour of the house with Mr, Linton," said Lady Janet, with 
 a malicious sparkle of her green eyes. 
 
 " Why not make it a royal progress ?" said Sir Harvey, " her Majesty 
 the Queen might like it well." 
 
 " Her Majesty likes every thing that promises amusement," said the 
 wild romp, " come, Charley, give us your arm." 
 
 " No, I've got a letter or two to write," said he, rudely ; " there's 
 Upton or Jennings quite ready for any foolery." 
 
 " This is too bad," cried she, and through all the pantomime of mock 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 323 
 
 royalty, a real tear rose to her eyes, and rolled hea-sdly down her cheek ; 
 then, with a sudden change of humour, she said, " Mr. Cashel, will you 
 take me ?" 
 
 The request was too lat€, for abeady he had given his arm to Lady 
 Janet, an act of devotion he was performing with the expression of a 
 Saint under martyrdom. 
 
 " Sir Harvey — there's no help for it — we are reduced to yow." 
 But Sir Harvey was leaving the room with 01i\ia Kennyfeck. In 
 fact, couples paired off in every du-ection ; the only disengaged cavalier 
 being Sir Andrew McFarlane, who, with a sardonic grin on his features, 
 came hobbling forward, as he said, 
 
 " Ye mauna tak sich long strides. Missy, if ye ga wi' me, for I've got 
 a couple o' ounces of Langredge shot in my left knee — forbye the gout 
 in both ancles." 
 
 " I say, Jim," called out Lord Charles, as she moved away ; *' if you 
 like to ride Princepino this afternoon, he's ready for you." 
 " Are you going ?" said she, turning her head. 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then /'// not go," and so saying, she left the room. 
 When Linton, accompanied by Lady Kilgoff, issued fi*om the drawing- 
 room, instead of proceeding through the billiard -room, towards the suite 
 wliich formed the "show" part of the mansion, he turned abruptly to his 
 left, and passing through a narrow corridor, came out upon a terrace, at 
 the end of which stood a large conservatory, opening into the garden. 
 
 " I ask pardon," said he, " if I reverse the order of our geography, 
 and show you the frontiers of the realm before we visit the capital, but 
 otherwise we shall only be the advance-guard of that interesting com- 
 pany, who have nothing more at heart than to overhear us." 
 
 Lady Kilgoff walked along without speaking, at his side, having 
 relinquished the support of his arm with a stiff, frigid courtesy. Had 
 any one been there to mark the two figures, as side by side they 
 went, each deep in thought, and not even venturing a glance at the 
 other, he might well have wondered what strange link could connect 
 them. It was thus they entered the conservatory, where two rows of 
 orange-trees formed a lane of foliage almost impenetrable to the eye. 
 '•As this may be the last time we shall ever speak together in 
 
 secret " 
 
 " You have promised as much. Sir," said she, interrupting ; and the 
 very rapidity of her utterance betrayed the eagerness of her wish. 
 
 ** Be it so, Madam," replied he, coldly, and with a tone of sternness 
 very different from that he had used at first. " I have ever preferred 
 your wishes to my own. I shall never prove false to that allegiance. 
 As we are now about to speak on terms which never can be resumed, 
 
 r2 
 
324 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 let us at least be frank. Let us use candour with each other. Even 
 unpleasing truth is better, at such a moment, than smooth-tongued 
 insincerity." 
 
 *' This preamble does not promise well,'' said Lady Kilgoff, with a cold 
 smile. 
 
 " Not, perhaps, for the agreeability of our interview, but it may save 
 us both much time, and much temper. I have said that you are changed 
 towards me." 
 
 " Oh, Sir ! If I had suspected that this was to be the theme " she 
 
 stopped, and seemed uncertain, when, he finished the speech for her. 
 
 " You would never have accorded me this meeting. Do, be frank, 
 Madam, and spare me the pain of self-inflicted severity. Well, I 
 will not impose upon your kindness, nor indeed was such my intention, 
 if you had but heard me out. Yes, Madam, I should have told you, 
 that while I deplore that alteration, I no more make you chargeable 
 with it, than you can call me to account for cherishing a passion without 
 a hope. Both one and the other are independent of us. That, one, 
 should forget, and the other, remember, is beyond mere volition." 
 
 He waited for some token of assent — some slight evidence of con- 
 currence, but none came, and he resumed, 
 
 " When first I had the happiness of being distinguished by some 
 slight show of your preference, there were many others who sought with 
 eagerness for that position I was supposed to occupy in your favour. It 
 was the first access of vanity in my heart, and it cost me dearly. Some, 
 •envied me— some, scoffed — some, predicted that my triumph would be a 
 brief one — some, were rude enough to say that I was only placed like a 
 buoy, to show the passage, and that I should lie fast at anchor, while 
 others sailed on with prosperous gale and favouring fortune. You, 
 3Iadam, best know which of these were right. I see that I weary you. 
 I can conceive how distasteful all these memories must be, nor should I 
 evoke them without absolute necessity. To be brief, then, you are 
 now about to play over with another the very game by which you once 
 deceived me. It is your caprice to sacrifice another to your vanity ; but 
 know. Madam, the liberties which the world smiled at in Miss Gardiner, 
 will be keenly criticised in the Lady Kilgoff. In the former case, the 
 most malevolent could but hint at a mesalliance ; in the latter, evil 
 tongues can take a wider latitude. To be sure, the fascinating qualities 
 of the suitor, his wealth, his enviable position, will plead with some ; 
 my Lord's age and decrepitude will weigh with others, but even these 
 charitable persons will not spare you. Your own sex are seldom over- 
 merciful in their judgments. Men, are unscrupulous enough to hint 
 that there was no secret in the matter ; some will go further, and affect 
 to say that they themselves were not unfavourably looked on." 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 325 
 
 " Will you give me a chair, Sir," said she in a voice which, though 
 harely above a whisper, vibrated with intense passion. Linton hastened to 
 fetch a seat, his whole features glowing with the elation of his vengeance. 
 This passed rapidly away, and as he placed the chair for her to sit down, 
 his face had resumed its former cold, almost melancholy expression. 
 
 " I hope you are not ill," said he, with an air of feeling. 
 
 A glance of the most ineffable scorn was her only reply. 
 
 " It is with sincere sorrow that I inflict this pain upon you ; indeed, 
 when I heard of that unhappy yacht excursion, my mind was made up 
 to see Lord Kilgoff, the very moment of his arrival, and, on any pretence, 
 to induce him to leave this. This hope, however, was taken from me, 
 when I beheld the sad state into which he had fallen, leaving me no 
 other alternative than to address yourself. I will not hurt your ears by 
 repeating the inventions, each full of falsehood, that heralded your ar- 
 rival here. The insulting discussions how you should be met — whether 
 your conduct had already precluded your acceptance amongst the circle 
 of your equals, — or, that you were only a subject of avoidance to mothers 
 of marriageable daughters, and maiden ladies of excessive virtue. You 
 have mixed in the world, and therefore can well imagine every ingenious 
 turn of this peculiar eloquence. How was I — I, who have known — I 
 who — nay, Madam, not a word shall pass my lips in reference to that 
 theme — I would only ask could I hear these things, could I see your 
 foot nearing the cliff and not cry out, Stop ! — Another step and you are 
 lost ! There are women who can play this dangerous game with cool 
 heads and cooler hearts ; schooled in all the frigid indifference that would 
 seem the birthright of a certain class, the secrets of their affections die 
 with them — but you are not one of these. Born in what they would 
 call a humbler, but I should call a far higher, sphere, where the feelings 
 are fresher and the emotions purer, you might chance to — fall in love !" 
 
 A faint smile, so faint that it conveyed no expression to her eyes, was 
 Lady Kilgoff 's acknowledgment of these last words. 
 
 " Have you finished, Sir," said she, as after a pause of some seconds 
 he stood still. 
 
 " Not, yet. Madam," replied he, drily. 
 
 " In that case, Sir, would it not be as well to tell the man who is 
 lingering yonder to leave this ; except, perhaps, it may be your desire 
 to have a witness to your words ?" 
 
 Linton started, and grew deadly pale ; for he now perceived that the 
 man must have been in the conservatory during the entire interview. 
 Hastening round to where he stood, his fears were at once dispelled ; 
 for it was the Italian sailor, Giovanni, who, in the multiplicity of his 
 accomplishments, was now assisting the gardener among the plants. 
 
326 BOLAZSD CA3HEL. 
 
 " It is of no consequence, Madam," said he, returning. "The man 
 is an Italian, who understands nothing of English." 
 
 ''•You are always fortunate, Mr, Linton,'' said she, with a deep 
 emphasis on the pronoun. 
 
 " I have cer.sed to boast of my good luck, for many a day." 
 
 "Having, doubtless, so many other qualities to be proud of," said 
 she, with a malicious sparkle of her dark eyes. 
 
 " The question is now. Madam, of one far more interesting than wze." 
 
 " Can that be possible, Sir ? Is any one's welfare of such moment 
 to his friends — to the world at large — as the high-minded, the honour- 
 able, the open-hearted Mr. Linton, who condescends, for the sake of a 
 warning to his young friends, to turn gambler, and ruin them ; while, 
 he has the daring courage to single out a poor unprotected woman, 
 without one who could rightfully defend her, and, under the miserable 
 mask of interest, to insult her." 
 
 " Is it thus you read my conduct. Madam ?" said he, wdth an air at 
 ance sad and reproachful. 
 
 " Not altogether, Mr. Linton. Beside the ineffable pleasure of giving 
 pain, I perceive that you are acquitting a debt ; the debt of hate you 
 owe me ; because — but I cannot descend to occupy the same level with 
 you in this business. My reply to you is a very short one. Your in- 
 sult to me mxust go unpunished ; for, as you well know, I have not one 
 to resent it. You have, however, introduced another name in this dis- 
 cussion ; to that gentleman I will reveal all that you have said this day. 
 The consequences may be what they will, I care not ; I never pro- 
 voked them. You best know, Sir, how the reckoning will fare with you." 
 
 Linton grew pale, almost lividly so, while he bit his lip till the very 
 blood came ; then, suddenly recovering himself, he said, " I am not 
 aware of having mentioned a name. I think your Ladyship must have 
 been mistaken; but" — and here he laughed slightly — " you will scarce 
 succeed in sowing discord between me and my old friend. Lord Charles 
 Frobisher." 
 
 "Lord Charles Frobisher!" echoed she, almost stunned with the 
 effrontery. 
 
 " You seem surprised. Madam. I trust your Ladyship meant no 
 other." The insolence of his manner, as he said this, left her unable for 
 some minutes to reply, and when she did speak, it was with evident effort. 
 
 " I trust now. Sir, that we have spoken for the last time together. 
 I own — and it is, indeed, humiliation enough to own it — your words 
 have deeply insulted me. I cannot deny you the satisfaction of knowing 
 this ; and yet, with all these things before me, I do not hate ; I only 
 despise you." 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 327 
 
 So saying, she moved toward the door, but Liuton stepped for- 
 ward, and said, " One instant, Madam. You seem to forget that we 
 are pledged to walk through the rooms ; our amiable friends are doubt- 
 less looking for us." 
 
 '' 1 will ask Mr. Cashel to be my chaperon another time," said she, 
 carelessly, and drawing her shawl around her, passed out, leaving Linton 
 alone in the conservatory. 
 
 " Aye, by St. Paul the work goes bravely on," cried he, as soon as 
 she had disappeared. " If she ruin not him and herself to boot, now, I 
 am sore mistaken. The game is full of interest, and, if I had not so much 
 in hand, would delight me !'' 
 
 With this brief soliloquy he turned to where the Italian was standing, 
 pruning an orange tree. 
 
 " Have you learned any English yet, Giovanni ?'* 
 A slight, but significant gesture of one finger gave the negative. 
 "No matter, your own soft vowels are in more request here. The 
 dress I told you of, is now come, my sei*vant will give it to you ; so, be 
 ready with your guitar, if the ladies wish for it, this evening." 
 
 Giovanni bowed respectfully, and went on with his work, and soon 
 after Linton strolled into the garden to muse over the late scene. 
 
 Kad any one been there to mark the signs of triumphant elation on 
 his features, they would have seen the man in all the sincerity of his 
 bold, bad heart. His success was perfect. Knowing well the proud 
 nature of the young, high-spiiited woman, thoroughly acquainted with 
 her impatient temper and haughty character, he rightly foresaw, that to 
 tell her she had become the subject of a calumny, Avas to rouse her 
 pride to confront it openly. To whisper that the world would not admit 
 of tliis or that, was to make her brave that world, or sink vmder the effort. 
 To sting her to such resistance was his wily game, and who knew 
 better how to play it ! The insinuated sneers at the class to which she 
 had once belonged, as one not " patented" to assume the vices of their 
 betters, was a deep and most telling hit ; and he saw, when they sepa- 
 rated, that her mind was made up, at any cost and every risk, to live 
 dov/n the slander by utter contempt of it. Linton asked for no more. 
 " Let her," said he to himself, " but enter the lists with the world for an 
 adversary ! I'll give her all the benefit of the best motives — as much 
 purity of heart, and so forth, as she cares for — but, ' I'll name the 
 winner' after all." 
 
 Too true. The worthy people, who fancy that an innate honesty 
 of purpose can compensate for all the breaches of conventional use, are 
 like the volunteers of an army who refuse to wear its uniform, and are 
 as often picked down by their allies as by their enemies. 
 
328 ROLAIO) CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 Such a concourse ne'er was seen 
 Of coaches, noddies, cars, and jingles, 
 
 " Char-a-bancs"— to hold sixteen. 
 And " Sulkies," meant to carry singles. 
 
 "ThePicNic,"aLat. 
 
 It is an old remark, that nothing are so stupid as love letters ; and, 
 pretty much in the same spirit, we may affirm that there are few duller 
 topics than festivities. The scenes in which the actor is most interested 
 are, out of compensation perhaps, those least worthy to record ; the very 
 inability of description to render them is disheartening, too. One must 
 eternally resort to the effects produced, as evidences of the cause, just 
 as when we would characterise a climate ; we find ourselves obliged to 
 fall back upon the vegetable productions, the fruits and flowers of the 
 seasons, to convey even any thing of what we desire. So is it, Pleasure 
 has its own atmosphere— we may breathe, but hardly chronicle it. 
 
 These prosings of ours have reference to the gaieties of Tubbermore, 
 which certainly were all that a merry party and an unbounded expendi- 
 ture could compass. The style of living was princely in its splendour; 
 luxuries fetched from every land — the rarest wines of every country, 
 the most exquisite flowers — all that taste can suggest, and gold can buy, 
 were there ; and while the order of each day was maintained with un- 
 diminished splendour, every little fancy of the guests was studied 
 with a watchful politeness that marks the highest delicacy of hospitality. 
 
 If a bachelor's house be wanting in the gracefulness which is the 
 charm of a family reception, there is a freedom, a degree of libert}'^ in 
 all the movements of the guests, which some would accept as a fair 
 compromise; for, while the men assume a full equality with their host, 
 the ladies are supreme in all such establishments. Roland Cashel was, 
 indeed, not the man to dislike this kind of democracy ; it spared him 
 trouble; it inflicted no tiresome routine of attentions ; he was free as the 
 others, to follow the bent of his humour, and he asked for no more. 
 
 It was without one particle of vulvar pride of wealth that he de- 
 lighted in the pleasure he saw around him ; it was the mere buoyancy 
 of a high-spirited nature. The cost no more entered into his calcula- 
 tions in a personal, than a pecuniary sense. A consciousness that he 
 was the source of all that splendid festivity— that his will was the motive 
 power of all that complex machinery of pleasure — increased, but did not 
 constitute his enjoyment. To see his guests happy, in the various 
 modes they preferred, was his great delight, and, for once, he felt 
 inclined to think that wealth had great privileges. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 329 
 
 The display of all, which gratified him most, was that which usually 
 took place each day, after luncheon ; when the great space before the 
 house was thronged with equipages of various kinds and degrees, with 
 saddle-horses and mounted grooms, and amid all the bustle of discussing 
 where to, and with whom, the party issued forth to spend the hours 
 before dinner. 
 
 A looker-on would have been amused to watch all the little devices 
 in request, to join this party, to avoid that, to secure a seat in a certain 
 carriage, or to escape from some other, Linton's chief amusement being 
 to thwart as many of these plans as he could, and while he packet} a 
 sleepy Chief Justice into the same barouche with the gay Kennyfeck 
 girls, to commit Lady Janet to the care of some dashing dragoon, who 
 did not dare decline the wife of a " Commander of the Forces." 
 
 Cashel always joined the party on horseback, so long as Lady Kilgoflf 
 kept the house, which she did for the first week of her stay, but when 
 she announced her intention of driving out, lie offered his services to 
 accompany her. By the merest accident it chanced that the very day 
 she fixed on for her first excursion was that on which Cashel had deter- 
 mined to try a new and most splendid equipage, which had just arrived. 
 It was a phaeton, built in all the costly splendour of the '' Regency of 
 the Duke of Orleans ;" one of those gorgeous toys which even a volup- 
 tuous age gazed at with wonder. Two jet-black Arabians, of perfect 
 symmetry, drew it, the whole forming a most beautiful equipage. 
 
 Exclamations of astonishment and admiration broke from the whole 
 party as the carriage drove up to the door, where all were now 
 standing. 
 
 " Whose can it be — where did it come from — what a magnificent 
 phaeton ! Mr. Cashel, pray tell us all about it. Do, Mr. Lmton, give 
 us its history." 
 
 " It has none as yet, my dear Mrs. White ; that it may have, one of 
 these days, is quite possible." 
 
 Lady Janet heard the speech, and nodded significantly in assent. 
 
 "Mr. Linton, you are coming with xis, a'n't you ?" said a lady's voice 
 from a britska close by. 
 
 " I really don't know how the arrangement is ; Cashel said something 
 about my driving Lady Kilgoff." 
 
 Lady Kilgoff pressed her lips close, and gathered her mantle together 
 as if by some sudden impulse of temper, but never spoke a word. At 
 the same instant Cashel made his appearance from the house. 
 
 ** Are you to drive me, Mr. Cashel?" said she, calmly. 
 
 " If you will honour me so far," replied he, bowing. 
 
330 ROLAI^D CASHEL. 
 
 " I fancied you said something to me about being her Ladyship's 
 charioteer," said Linton. 
 
 '' You must have been dreaming, man," cried Cashel, laughing. 
 
 " Will you allow my Lady to choose ?" rejoined Linton, jokingly, 
 while he stole at her a look of insolent malice. 
 
 Cashel stood uncertain what to say or do in the emergency, when 
 with a firm and determined voice Lady Kilgoif said, 
 
 *' I must own I have no confidence in Mr. Linton's guidance." 
 
 "There, Tom," said Cashel, gaily, "I'm glad your vanity came in 
 for that." 
 
 " I have only to hope that you are in safer conduct, my Lady," said 
 Linton, and he bowed with uncovered head, and then, stood gazing after 
 the swift carriage as it hastened down the avenue. 
 
 " Is it all true about these Kennyfeck girls having so much ' tin ?' " 
 said Captain Jennings, as he stroked down his moustache complacently. 
 
 " They say five-and- twenty thousand each," said Linton, " and I 
 rather credit the rumour." 
 
 "Eh, awl one might do worse," yawned the hussar, languidly, ^'I 
 wish they hadn't that confounded accent!" and so he moved off to 
 join the party on horseback. 
 
 " You are coming with me, Jemima," said Mr. Downie Meek to his 
 daughter ; I want to pay a visit to those works at Killaloe ; we have so 
 much Committee talk in the House on inland navigation — oh, dear ! It 
 is very tiresome." 
 
 *•' Charley says I'm to go with him, Pa, he's about to try Smasher as 
 a leader, and wants me, if any thing goes wrong." 
 
 '- Oh, dear — quite impossible." 
 
 " Yes, yes, Jim, I insist," said Frobisher, in a half-whisper, " never 
 mind the Governor." 
 
 "Here comes the drag. Pa. Oh, how beautiful it looks ! there they 
 go, all together, and Smasher, how neatly he carries himself. I say, 
 Charley, he has no fancy for that splinter-bar so near him, it touches 
 his near hock every instant ; wouldn't it be better to let his trace a hole 
 looser. " 
 
 " So it would," said Frobisher, " but get up and hold the ribbons till 
 I have got my gloves on. I say, Linton, keep Downie in chat, one 
 moment, until we're off." 
 
 This kindly oflice was, however, anticipated by Lady Janet 
 M'Farline, who, in her brief transit from the door to the carriage, 
 always contrived to drop each of the twenty things she loaded herself 
 with, at starting, and thus, to press into the service as many of the by- 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 331 
 
 slanders as possible, who followed, one with a muflP, another with a 
 smelling-bottle, a third with a book, a fourth with her knitting", and so 
 on ; while Flint brought up the rear with more air-cushions and hot- 
 water apparatus than ever were seen before for the accommodation of 
 two persons. In fact, if the atmosphere of our dear island, instead 
 of being the mere innocent thing of fog it is, had been surcharged 
 with all the pestilential vapours of the mistrale and the tiphoon, to- 
 gether, she could not liave armed herself with stronger precautions 
 against it, while even Sir Andrew, with the constitution of a Russian 
 bear, was compelled to wear blue spectacles in sunshine and a respirator 
 when it loured ; leaving him, as he said, to the " doranable alternative 
 o' being blind, or dumb." 
 
 " I maun say," muttered he, behind his barrier of mouth-plate, " that 
 Mesther Cashel has his ain notions aboot amusin' his company when he 
 leaves ane o' his guests to drive aboot wi' his ain wife. Ech, Sir, it is 
 a pleasm-e I need na hae come so far to enjoy !" 
 
 " Where's Sir Harry Upton, Sir Andrew ?" said my Lady, tartly ; 
 " he has never been near me to-day. I hope he's not making a fool of 
 himself with those Kennyfeck minxes." 
 
 '* I dinna ken, and I dinna care," growled Sir Andrew, and then to 
 himself he added, " an' if he be, it's aye better fooling wi' young lassies 
 than doited auld women !" 
 
 " A place for you^ Mr. Linton ?" said Mrs. White, as she seated her- 
 self in a low droski, where her companion, Mr. Howie, sat, surrounded 
 with all the details for a sketching excursion. 
 
 " Thanks, but I have nothing so agreeable in prospect." 
 
 *' Why, what are you about to do ?" 
 
 " Alas ! I must set out on a canvassing expedition, to court the sweet 
 voices of my interesting constituency. You know that I am a candidate 
 for the borough." 
 
 " That must be very disagreeable." 
 
 " It is; but I could not get off; Cashel is incurably lazy, and /never 
 know how, ' to say no.' " 
 
 " Well, good-bye, and all fortune to you," said she, and they drove 
 away. 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck and the Chief Justice, mounted on what are called 
 sure-footed ponies, and a few others, still lingered about the door, but 
 Linton took no notice of them, but at once re-entered the house. 
 
 For some time previous, he had remarked that Lord Kilgoff seemed, 
 as it were, struggling to emerge from the mist that had shrouded his 
 faculties ; his perceptions each day grew quicker and clearer, and even 
 when silent, Linton observed that a shrewd expression of the eye would 
 
332 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 betoken a degree of apprehension few would have given him credit for. 
 With the keenness of a close observer, too, Linton perceived that he 
 more than once made use of his favourite expression, " It appears to me," 
 and slight as the remark might seem, there is no more certain evidence 
 of the return to thought and reason than the resumption of any habitual 
 mode of expression. 
 
 Resolved to profit by this gleam of coming intelligence, by showing 
 the old Peer an attention he knew would be acceptable, Linton sent up 
 a message to ask " If his Lordship would like a visit from him ?" A 
 most cordial acceptance was returned ; and, a few moments after, Linton 
 entered the room where he sat, with all that delicate caution so becoming 
 a sick chamber. 
 
 Motioning his visitor to sit down, by a slight gesture of the finger, 
 while he made a faint effort to smile, in return for the other's salutation, 
 the old man sat, propped up by pillows, and enveloped in shawls, pale, 
 sad, and care-worn. 
 
 " I was hesitating for two entire days, my Lord," said Linton, lower- 
 ing his voice to suit the character of the occasion, " whether I might 
 propose to come and sit an hour with you, and I have only to beg that 
 you will not permit me to trespass a moment longer than you feel dis- 
 posed to endure me." 
 
 " Very kind of you — most considerate, Sir," said the old Peer, bowing 
 with an air of haughty courtesy. 
 
 "You seem to gain strength every day, my Lord," resumed Linton, 
 who well knew that there is nothing like a personal topic to awaken a 
 sick man's interest. 
 
 " There is something here," said the old man, slowly, as he placed the 
 tip of his finger on the centre of his forehead. 
 
 " Mere debility ; nervous debility, my Lord. You are paying the 
 heavy debt an over- worked intellect must always acquit ; but rest and 
 repose will soon restore you." 
 
 " Yes, Sir," muttered the other, with a weak smile, as though without 
 fathoming the sentiment, he felt, that something agreeable to his feelings 
 had been spoken. 
 
 "I have been impatient for your recovery, ray Lord. I will confess 
 to you, on personal grounds : I feel now how much I have been indebted 
 to your Lordship's counsel and advice all through life, by the very inerti- 
 tude that tracks me. In fact, I can resolve on nothing, determine 
 nothing, without your sanction." 
 
 The old man nodded assentingly ; the assurance had his most sincere 
 conviction. 
 
 " It would seem, my Lord, that I must — whether I will or no — stand 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 333 
 
 forthis borough, here ; there is no alternative, for you are aware that 
 Cashel is quite unfit for pubhc business. Each day he exhibits more 
 and more of those quaUties, which bespeak far more goodness of heart 
 than intellectual training or culture. His waywardness and eccentricity 
 might seriously damage his own party — could he even be taught that 
 he had one — and become terrible weapons in the hands of the enemy." 
 
 " I was speaking of Cashel, my Lord," said Linton, as it were answer- 
 ing the look of inquiry in the old man's face. 
 
 '* I hate him. Sir," said the old Peer, with a bitterness of voice and 
 look that well suited the words. 
 
 " I really cannot wonder at it," said Linton, with a deep sigh ; " such 
 duphcity is too shocking — ^far too shocking — to contemplate." 
 
 " Eh — what ? What did you say, Sir ?" cried the old man, impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 " 1 was remarking, my Lord, that I have no confidence in his sin- 
 cerity — ^that he strikes me as capable of playing a double part." 
 
 A look of disappointment succeeded to the excited expression of the 
 old man's face — he had evidently expected some revelation — and now 
 his features became clouded and gloomy. 
 
 '^' We may be unjust, my Lord," said Linton. " It may be a pre- 
 judice on our part ; others would seem to have a diflPerent estimate of 
 that gentleman. Meek thinks highly of him." 
 
 " Who, Sir ; I didn't hear you ?" asked he, snappishly. 
 
 " Meek — Downie Meek, my Lord." 
 
 " Pshaw !" said the old man, with a shrewd twinkle of the eye, that 
 made Linton fear the mind behind it was clearer than he suspected. 
 " I know, my Lord," said he, hastily, " that you always held the 
 worthy Secretary cheap ; but you weighed him in a balance too nice, for 
 the majority of people " 
 
 " What does that old woman say ? Tell me her opinion of Cashel," 
 said Lord Kilgoff, rallying into something like his accustomed manner. 
 "You know whom I mean!" cried he, impatient at Linton's delay in 
 answering ; " the old woman one sees everywhere ; she married that 
 Scotch sergeant " 
 
 « Lady Janet M'Farline " 
 
 '• Exactly, Sir." 
 
 '' She thinks precisely with your Lordship." 
 
 '•' I'm sure of it ; I told my Lady so," muttered he to himself. 
 
 Linton caught the words with eagerness, and his dark eyes kindled ; 
 for at last were they nearing the territory he wanted to occupy. 
 
 " Lady Kilgoff," said he, slowly, " does not need any aid to appreciate 
 him ; she reads him thoroughly ; the heartless, selfi^, unprincipled 
 spendthrift that he is." 
 
334 EOLAKD CASHEL. 
 
 " She does not, Sir," rejoined the old man, with a loud voice, and a 
 stroke of his cane upon the floor, that echoed through the room. " You 
 never were more mistaken in your life. His insufferable puppyism, his 
 reckless effrontery, his underbred familiarity, are precisely the very 
 qualities she is pleased with. ' They are so different,' as she says, *from 
 the tiresome routine of fashionable manners.' " 
 
 " Unquestionably they are, my Lord," said Linton, with a smile. 
 
 " Exactly, Sir ; they differ, as do her Ladyship's own habits from 
 those of every Lady in the Peerage. I told her so. I begged to set 
 her right on that subject, at least." 
 
 " Your Lordship's refinement is a most severe standard," said Linton, 
 bowing low. 
 
 *•' It should be an example. Sir, as well as a chastisement. Indeed, 
 I beUeve few would have failed to profit by it." The air of insolent 
 pride in which he spoke, seemed for an instant to have brought back 
 the wonted look to his features, and he sat up, with his lips compressed, 
 and his chin protruded, as in his days of yore. 
 
 " I would entreat your Lordship to remember," said Linton, " how 
 few have studied in the same school you have ; how few have enjoyed 
 the intimacy of *the most perfect gentlemen of all Europe;' and of that 
 small circle, who is there could have derived the same advantage from the 
 privilege ?" 
 
 " Your remark is very just, Sir. I owe much, very much, to his 
 Royal Highness." 
 
 The tone of humility in which he said this was a high treat to the 
 sardonic spirit of his listener. 
 
 " And what a penance to you nrast be a visit in such a house as this ?" 
 said Linton, with a sigh. 
 
 " True, Sir ; but who induced me to make it ? answer me that." 
 
 Linton started with amazement, for he was very far from supposing 
 that his Lordship's memory was clear enough to retain the events of an 
 interview that occurred some months before. 
 
 " I never anticipated that it would cost you so dearly, my Lord," said 
 he, cautiously, and prepared to give his words any turn events might 
 warrant. For once, however, the ingenuity was wasted. Lord Kilgoff, 
 wearied and exhausted by the increased effort of his intellect, had fallen 
 back in his chair, and with drooping lipa and fallen jaw, sat, the very 
 picture of helpless fatuity. 
 
 " So, then," said Linton, as on tip-toe he stole noiselessly away, " if 
 your memory was inopportune, it was, at least, very short-lived : and 
 now, adieu, my Lord, till we want you for another act of the drama." 
 
HOLAND CASHEL. 335 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 " We'll have you at our merry-making, too." 
 
 " Honeymoon." 
 
 If we should appear, of late, to have forgotten some of those friends, 
 with whom we first made our readers acquainted in this veracious his- 
 tory, we beg to plead against any charge of caprice or neglect. The 
 cause is simply this: a story, like a stream, has one main current; 
 and he who would follow the broad river, must eschew being led 
 away by every rivulet, which may separate from the great flood, to 
 follow its own vagrant fancy elsewhere. Now, the Kennyfecks had 
 been meandering after this fashion for some time back. The elder, had 
 commenced a very vigorous flirtation with the dashing Captain Jen- 
 nings, while the younger sister was coyly dallying under the attentions 
 of his brother hussar — less, be it remembered, with any direct intention 
 of surrender, than with the faint hope, that Cashel, perceiving the siege, 
 should think fit to rescue the fortress ; " Aunt Fanny" hovering near, 
 as " an army of observation," and ready, like the Prussians in the last 
 war, to take part with the victorious side, whichever that might be. 
 
 And now, we ask in shame and sorrow, is it not humiliating to think, 
 that of a party of some thirty or more, met together to enjoy in careless 
 freedom the hospitality of a country-house, all should have been 
 animated with the same spirit of intrigue — each, bent on his own deep 
 game, and, in some one guise or other of deceitfulness, each, following 
 out some scheme of selfish advantage ? 
 
 Some may say, these things are forced and unnatural, that Pleasure 
 proclaims a truce in the great war of life, where combatants lay down 
 their weapons, and mix like friends and allies. We fear this is not the 
 case. Our own brief experiences would certainly tend to a different con- 
 clusion. Less a player than a looker-on In the great game, we have 
 seen, through all the excitements of dissipation, all the fascinating plea- 
 sures of the most brilliant circles, the steady onward pursuit of self- 
 interest, and, instead of the occasions of social enjoyment being like 
 the palm-shaded wells in the desert, where men meet to taste the peace- 
 fulness of perfect rest, they are rather the arena where, in all the glitter 
 of the most splendid armour, the combatants have come to tUt, with 
 more than life upon the issue. 
 
 For this, the beauty wreathes herself in all the winning smiles of 
 loveliness; for this, the courtier puts forth his most captivating address and 
 his most seductive manner ; for this, the wit sharpens the keen edge of 
 his fancy, and the statesman matures the deep resolve of his judgment. 
 
336 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 The diamond coronets that deck the hair and add lustre to the eyes — 
 the war-won medals that glitter on the coat of some hardy veteran — the 
 proud insignia of merit that a sovereign's favour grants — all are worn to 
 this end ! Each brings to the game whatever he may possess of supe- 
 riority, for the contest is ever a severe one. 
 
 And now to go back to our company. From Lady Janet, intent upon 
 everything which might minister to her own comfort, or mortify her 
 neighbour — to the smooth and soft-voiced Downie Meek — with the 
 kindest of wishes and the coldest of hearts — they were, we grieve to 
 own it, far more imposing to look at full dressed, at dinner, than to 
 investigate by the searching anatomy that discloses the vices and foibles 
 of humanity ; and it is, therefore, with less regret \f e turn from the 
 great house, in all the pomp of its splendour, to the humble cottage, 
 wTiere Mr. Corrigan dwelt with his grand-daughter. 
 
 In wide contrast to the magnificence and profusion of the costly 
 household, where each seemed bent on giving way to every caprice that 
 extravagance could suggest, was the simple quietude of that unpretend- 
 ing family. The efforts by which Corrigan had overcome his diffi- 
 culties, not only cost him all the little capital he possessed in the world, 
 but had also necessitated a mode of living more restricted than he had 
 ever known before. The little luxuries that his station, as well as his 
 age and long use, had made necessaries, — the refinements that adorn 
 even the very simplest lives, — had all to be, one by one, surrendered. 
 Some of these he gave up manfully, others cost him deeply ; and when 
 the day came that he had to take leave of his old gray pony — the 
 faithful companion of so many a lonely ramble, the creature he had 
 reared and petted like a dog, — the struggle was almost too much for 
 him. 
 
 He walked along beside the man who led the beast to the gate, 
 telling him — 
 
 " To be sure and seek out some one who would treat her kindly ; 
 some there are would do so for my sake ; but she deserves it better 
 for her own. — Yes, Nora ; I'm speaking of you," said he, caressing her 
 as she laid her nose over his arm. " I'm sure, I never thought we'd 
 have to part." 
 
 " She's good as goold this minit," said the man ; '' an' it'll go hard, 
 but I'll get six pounds for her, any way." 
 
 " Tell whoever buys her, that Mr. Corrigan will give him a crown 
 piece every Christmas-day' that he sees her looking well and in good 
 heart. To be sure, it is no great bribe, we're both so old," said he, 
 smiling ; " but ray blessing goes with the man that's a friend to her." 
 He sat down as he said this, and held his hand over his face till she was 
 gone. "God forgive me if I set my heart too much on such things, 
 
Corrip-an parts with an oJd IVk'TkI 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 337 
 
 but it's like parting with an old friend. — Poor Mary's harp must go 
 next : but here comes Tiernay ; well, Doctor, what news ?" 
 
 The Doctor shook his head twice or thrice despondingly, but said 
 nothing ; at last he muttered in a grumbhng voice, 
 
 " I was twice at the Hall, but there's no seeing Cashel himself; an 
 insolent puppy of a valet turned away contemptuously as I asked for 
 him, and said, 
 
 " Mr. Linton, perhaps, might hear what you have to say ?" 
 
 " Is Kennyfeck to be found ?" 
 
 " Yes, I saw him for a few minutes, but he's like the rest of them ; the 
 old fool fancies he's a man of fashion here, and told me he had left * the 
 Attorney' behind, in Merrion Square. He half confessed to me, however, 
 what I feared. Cashel has either given a promise to give this farm of 
 yours to Linton " 
 
 " Well, the new landlord will not be less kind than the old one." 
 
 *' You think so," said Tiernay, sternly. " Is your knowledge of life 
 no better than this ; have you lived till now, without being able to 
 read that man ? Come, come, Corrigan ; don't treat this as a prejudice 
 of mine. I have watched him closely, and he sees it. I teU you again, 
 the fellow is a villain." 
 
 " Aye, aye," said Corrigan, laughing ; "your Doctor's craft has made 
 you always on the look out for some hidden mischief." 
 
 " My Doctor's craft has taught me to know that symptoms are never 
 without a meaning. But enough of him — the question is simply this — 
 we cannot be supposed cognizant of any arrangement between Cashel 
 and this man — we have, then, merely to propose to Cashel the purchase 
 of yom- interest in the cottage, on which you will cede the possession." 
 
 " Yes ; and give up besides all claim at law, for you know we are 
 supported by the highest opinions." 
 
 " Pooh— nonsense, man ; don't embarrass the case by a pretension 
 they're sure to sneer at. The cottage and the little fields behind it are 
 tangible and palpable ; don't weaken your case by a plea you could not 
 press." 
 
 " Have your ovm. way, then," said the old man, mildly. 
 
 " It is an annuity, you say, you'd wish." 
 
 " On Mary's life, not on mine. Doctor." 
 
 " It will be a poor thing," said Tiernay, with a sigh. 
 
 " They say we could live in some of the towns in Flanders very 
 cheaply," said Corrigan, cheerfully. 
 
 " You don't know how to live cheaply," rejoined Tiernay, crankily. 
 " You think if you don't see a man in black behind your chair, and 
 that you eat off delft, instead of silver, that you are a miracle of 
 simphcity. I saw you last Sunday put by the decanter with half a 
 
338 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 glass of sherry at the bottom of it, and you were as proud of your thrift 
 as if you had reformed your whole household." 
 
 " Every thing is not learned in a moment, Tiernay," said Corrigan, 
 mildly. 
 
 " You are too old to begin, Mat Corrigan," said the other, gravely ; 
 '' such men as you, who have not been educated to narrow fortunes, 
 never learn thrift ; they can endure great privations well enough, but it 
 is the little, petty, dropping ones that break down the spirit — these, they 
 cannot meet." 
 
 " A good conscience and a strong will can do a great deal, Tiernay. 
 One thing is certain, that we shall escape persecution from him. He 
 will scarcely discover us in our humble retreat." 
 
 " I've thought of that, too," said Tiernay. " It is the greatest 
 advantage the plan possesses. Now, the next point is, how to see this 
 same Cashel ; from all that I can learn, his life is one of dissipation from 
 morning till night. Those fashionable sharpers by whom he is sur- 
 rounded are making him pay dearly for his admission into the honourable 
 guild." 
 
 " The greater the pity," sighed Corrigan ; " he appeared to me 
 deserving of a different fate. An easy complying temper " 
 
 "The devil a worse fault I'd wish my enemy," broke in Tiernay, 
 passionately. " A field without a fence — a house without a door to it ! 
 And there, if I am not mistaken, I hear his voice ; yes, he's coming 
 along the path, and some one with him, too." 
 
 " I'll leave you to talk to him, Tiernay, for you seem in *the vein,'" 
 and with these words the old man turned into a bye path, just as Cashel, 
 with Lady Kilgoff on his arm, advanced up the avenue. 
 
 Nothing is more remarkable than the unconscious homage tendered to 
 female beauty and elegance, by men whose mould of mind, as well as 
 habit, would seem to render them insensible to such fascinations, nor is 
 their instinctive admiration a tribute which beauty ever despises. 
 
 The change which came over the rough Doctor's expression as the 
 party came nearer exempHfied this truth strongly. The look of stern 
 determination with which he was preparing to meet Cashel changed to 
 one of astonishment, and, at last, to undisguised admiration, as he sur- 
 veyed the graceful mien and brilliant beauty before him. They had 
 left the phaeton at the little wicket, and the exercise on foot had sHghtly 
 coloured her cheek, and added animation to her features — ^the only aid 
 necessary to make her loveliness perfect. 
 
 " 1 have taken a great liberty with my neighbour, Doctor Tiernay," 
 said Cashel, as he came near. ** Let me present you, however, first — 
 Doctor Tiernay, Lady Kilgoff — I had been telling her Ladyship that 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 339 
 
 the only picturesque portion of this country lies within this holly en- 
 closure, and is the property of ray friend Mr. Corrigan, who, although 
 he will not visit me, will not, I'm sure, deny me the pleasure of show- 
 ing his tasteful grounds to my Mends." 
 
 "My old friend would be but too proud of such a visitor," said 
 Tiernay, bowing low to Lady KilgoflF. 
 
 " Mr. Cashel has not confessed all our object, 3Ir. Tiernay," said she, 
 assuming her most gracious maimer. " Our visit has in prospect the 
 hope of making Miss Leicester's acquaintance ; as I know you are the 
 intimate friend of the family, will you kindly say if this be a suitable 
 hour, or indeed if our presence here at all would not be deemed an in- 
 trusion ?" 
 
 The Doctor coloured deeply, and his eye sparkled with pleasure, for, 
 strange enough as it may appear, while sneering at the dissipations of 
 the great house, he felt a degree of indignant anger at the thought of 
 Mar>^ sitting alone and neglected, with gaieties around her on every 
 side. 
 
 " It was a most thoughtful kindness of your Ladyship," replied he, 
 "for my friend is too old and too infirm to seek society, and, so, the poor 
 child has no other companionship than two old men, only fit to weary 
 each other." 
 
 ** You make me hope that our mission will succeed. Sir," said Lady 
 Kilgoff, still employing her most fascinating look and voice ; " we may 
 reckon on you as an ally, I trust." 
 
 " 1 am your Ladyship's most devoted," said the old man, courteously; 
 " how can I be of service ?" 
 
 " Our object is to induce Miss Leicester to pass some days with us," 
 said she ; " we are plotting various amusements that might interest her 
 — private theatricals among the rest." 
 
 " Here she comes, my Lady," said Tiernay, with animation ; " I am 
 proud to be the means of introducing her." 
 
 Just at this instant Mary Leicester had caught sight of the party, and 
 uncertain whether to advance or retire, was standing for a moment un- 
 decided, when Tiernay called out, 
 
 *' Stay a minute, Miss Mary, Lady Kilgoff is anxious to make your 
 acquaintance." 
 
 " This is a very informal mode of opening an intimacy, Miss 
 Leicester," said Lady Kilgoff; " pray let it have the merit of sincerity, 
 for I have long desired to know one of whom I have heard so much." 
 
 Mary replied courteously to ihe speech, and looked pleasedly towards 
 Cashel, to whom she justly attributed the compliment insinuated. 
 
 As the two ladies moved on side by side, engaged in conversation, 
 
 z2 
 
340 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Tiemay slackened his pace slightly, and in a voice of low but earnest 
 import, said, 
 
 " Will Mr. Cashel consider it an intrusion if I take this opportunity 
 of speaking to him on a matter of business ?" 
 
 *' Not in the least, Doctor," said Cashel, gaily ; " but it's right I 
 should mention that I am most lamentably ignorant of everything that 
 deserves that name. My agent has always saved me from the confes- 
 sion, but the truth will out at last." 
 
 " So much the worse, Sir — for others, as well as for yourself," re- 
 plied Tiernay, bluntly. " The trust a large fortune imposes — but I 
 shall forget myself, if I touch on such a theme. My business is this, 
 Sir — and, in mercy to you, I'll make it very brief. My old friend, Mr. 
 Corrigan, deems it expedient to leave this country, and, in consequence, 
 to dispose of the interest he possesses in these grounds, so long embel- 
 lished by his taste and culture. He is well aware that much of what 
 he has expended here has not added substantial value to the property ; 
 that, purely ornamental it has, in great part, repaid himself by the 
 many years of enjoyment it has afforded him. Still he hopes — or, 
 rather, I do for him — for, to speak candidly. Sir, lie has neither courage 
 nor hardihood for these kind of transactions — I hope, Sir, that you, 
 desirous of reuniting this farm to the large demesne — as I understand to 
 be the case — will not deem this an unfitting occasion to treat liberally 
 with one whose position is no longer what it once was. I must take 
 care, Mr. Cashel, that I say nothing which looks like solicitation, here ; 
 the confidence my friend has placed in me, would be ill requited by such 
 an error." 
 
 " Is there no means of securing Mr. Corrigan's residence, here ?" 
 said Cashel. " Can I not accommodate his wishes in some other 
 way, and which should not deprive me of a neighbour I prize so 
 highly ?" 
 
 "I fear not. The circumstances which induce him to go abroad are 
 imperative." 
 
 ''Would it not be better to reflect on this?" said Cashel. " I do 
 not seek to pry into concerns which are not mine; but I would earnestly 
 ask if some other arrangement be not possible ?" 
 Tiernay shook his head dubiously. 
 
 " If this be so, then I can oppose no longer. It only remains for 
 Mr. Corrigan to put his own value on the property, and I accept it.'* 
 
 " Nay, Sir ; this generosity will but raise new difficulties. You are 
 about to deal with a man as high-hearted as yourself, and with the 
 punctilious delicacy that a narrow fortune suggests, besides." 
 
 " Do you, then. Doctor, who know both of us, be arbitrator. Let it 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 341 
 
 not be a thing for parchments and lawyers' clerks. Let it be an 
 honourable understanding between tw^o gentlemen, and so, no more 
 of it." 
 
 " If the world were made up of men like yourself and my old friend, 
 this would be doubtless the readiest and the best solution of the diffi- 
 culty," said Tiemay, " but what would be said if we consented to such 
 an arrangement ? What would not be said ? Aye, faith, there's not a 
 scandalous rumour that malice could forge would not be rife upon us." 
 
 " And do you think such calumnies have any terror for me T* cried 
 Cashel. 
 
 " When you've lived to my age, Sir, you'U reason differently." 
 
 " It shall be all as you wish, then," said Cashel. " But stay," cried 
 he, after a moment's thought, "there is a difficulty I had almost for- 
 gotten. I must look that it may not interfere with our plans. When 
 can I see you again ? Would it suit you to come and breakfast with me 
 to-morrow ? I'll have my man of business, and we'll an'ange every 
 thing." 
 
 " Agreed, Sir, I'll not - fail ; I like your promptitude. A favour is a 
 double benefit when speedily granted." 
 
 " Now I shall ask one from you. Doctor. If I can persuade my kind 
 friends here to visit us, will you, too, be of the party sometimes ?" 
 
 *' Not a bit of it. Why should I, Sir, expose you to the insolent 
 criticism my unpolished manners and rude address would bring upon 
 you — nor myself, to the disdain that fashionable folk would show me ? 
 I am proud — too proud, perhaps, at the confidence you would repose in 
 my honour — I don't wish to blush for my breeding by way of recom- 
 pense. There, Sir ! there is one yonder in every way worthy all the 
 distinction rank and wealth can give her. I feel happy to think that 
 she is to move amongst those who, if they cannot prize her worth, will 
 at least appreciate her fascinations." 
 
 " Will Mr. Corrigan consent ?" 
 
 " He must — ^he shall," broke in Tiernay. ^' I'll insist upon it ; but 
 come along with me into the cottage, while the ladies are cementing 
 their acquaintance ; we'll see him, and talk him over." 
 
 So saying, he led Cashel into the little library, where, deep sunk in 
 his thoughts, the old man was seated, with an open book before him, but 
 of which he had not read a line. 
 
 " Mat !*' cried Tiernay, " Mr. Cashel has come to bring you and 
 Miss Mary up to the Hall, to dinner. There, Sir, look at the face he 
 puts on, an excuse in every wrinkle of it." 
 
 *' But my dear friend — my worthy Doctor — you know perfectly " 
 " I'll know perfectly that you must go — no help for it. I have told 
 
342 ROLAND CASHEL, 
 
 Mr. Cashel that you'd make fifty apologies — pretend age — ^ill-health — - 
 want of habit, and so on ; the valid reason being that you think his 
 company a set of raffs, and " 
 
 " Oh, Tiernay, I beg you'll not ascribe such sentiments to /we." 
 
 " Well, I thought so myself, t'other day — aye, half-an-hour ago ; but 
 there is a lady yonder, walking up and down the grass plot has made me 
 change my mind ; come out and see her, man, and then say as many 
 ' No's' as you please." And, half-dragging, half-leading the old man, 
 out, Tiernay went on — 
 
 "You'll see, Mr. Cashel, how polite he'll grow when he sees the 
 bright eyes and the fair cheek. You'll not hear of any more refusals 
 then, I promise you." 
 
 Meanwhile so far had Lady Kilgoff advanced in the favourable opinion 
 of Miss Leicester, that the young girl was already eager to accept the 
 proffered invitation. Old Mr. Corrigan, however, could not be induced 
 to leave his home, and so, it was arranged that Lady Kilgoff should drive 
 over on the following day to fetch her ; with which understanding they 
 parted, each looking forward with pleasure to their next meeting. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 " Gone ! and in secret, too !'* 
 
 Amid all the plans for pleasure which engaged the attention of the 
 great house, two subjects now divided the interest between them. One 
 was the expected arrival of the beautiful Miss Leicester — " Mr. CasheFs 
 babe in the wood," as Lady Janet called her — the other, the reading of 
 a little one-act piece, which Mr. Linton had written for the company. 
 Although both were in their several ways "events," the degree of 
 interest they excited was very disproportioned to their intrinsic conse- 
 quence, and can only be explained by dwelling on the various intrigues and 
 schemes by which that little world was agitated. 
 
 Lady Janet, whose natural spitefulness was a most Catholic feeling, 
 began to fear that Lady Kilgoff had acquired such an influence over 
 Cashel, that she could mould him to any course she pleased — even a 
 marriage. She suspected, therefore, that this rustic beauty had been 
 selected by her Ladyship, as one very unlikely to compete with herself 
 in Roland's regard, and that she was thus securing a lasting ascendancy 
 over him. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 343 
 
 Mrs. Leicester White, who saw, or believed she saw herself neglected 
 by Roland, took an indignant view of the matter, and threw out dubious 
 and shadowy suspicions about " who this young lady might be, who 
 seemed so opportunely to have sprung up in the neighbourhood," and, 
 expressed in confidence, her great surprise, "how Lady Kilgoff could lend 
 herself to such an arrangement." 
 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck was outraged at the entrance of a new competitor 
 into the field, where her daughter was no longer a " favourite." In 
 fact, the new visitor's arrival was heralded by no signs of welcome, save 
 from the young men of the party, who naturally were pleased to hear 
 that a very handsome and attractive girl was expected. 
 
 As for aunt Fanny, her indignation knew no bounds ; indeed, ever 
 since she had set foot in the house her state had been one little short 
 of insanity. In her own very graphic phrase — ^" She was fit to be 
 tied, at all she saw." Now, when an elderly maiden lady thus compre- 
 hensively sums up the cause of her anger, without descending to "a bill 
 of particulars," the chances are, that some personal wrong — real or 
 imaginary — is more in fault, than any thing reprehensible in the case 
 she is so severe upon. So was it here. Aunt Fanny literally saw nothing, 
 although she heard a great deal. Daily — hourly, were the accusations 
 of the whole Kennyfeck family directed against her for the loss of 
 Cashel. But for her, and her absurd credulity, on the statement of an 
 anonymous letter, and there had been no yacht voyage with Lady 
 Kilgoff — no shipwreck — no life in a cabin on the coast — no — in a word, 
 all these events had either not happened at all, or only occurred with 
 Livy Kennyfeck for their heroine. 
 
 Roland's cold, almost distant politeness to the young ladies, was 
 marked enough to appear intentional, nor could all the little bye-play of 
 flirtation with others, excite in him the slightest evidence of displeasure. 
 If the family were outraged at this change, poor Livy herself bore up 
 admirably ; and while playing a hundred little attractive devices for 
 Cashel, succeeded in making a very deep impression on the well- 
 whiskered Sir Harvey Upton, of the — th. Indeed, as Linton, who saw 
 everything, shrewdly remarked — "She may not pocket the ball she 
 intended, but rely on't, she'll make a 'hazard' somewhere." 
 
 Of all that great company, but one alone found no place in her heart for 
 some secret wile ; this was Miss Meek, who, sadly disappointed at the 
 little influence of her royalty, had ceased to care much for in-door affairs, 
 and spent her mornings " schooling" with Charley, and her evenings 
 listening to sporting talk whenever two or three "fast men" got together 
 in the drawing-room. 
 
 The evening that preceded Miss Leicester's intended arrival had been 
 
344 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 fixed for the reading of Mr. Linton's comedy — a little dramatic piece, 
 which, whether he had stolen wholesale from the French, or only- 
 borrowed in part, none knew ; but various were the rumours that it would 
 turn out to be a very satirical composition, with allusions to many of 
 those who were to sit in judgment over it. How this supposition origi- 
 nated, or with whom, there is no saying, nor, if well founded in any 
 respect, for, Linton had never shown his sketch to any one, nor alluded 
 to it, save in the most vague manner. 
 
 Each, however, looked to see his neighbour " shown up," and while 
 one said, " What a character could be made of old Sir Andrew, with his 
 vulgarity, his deafness, and his gluttony," another thought that Do^vnie 
 Meek, in his oily smoothness, his sighings, and his dear me's, would be 
 admirable — all the ladies averring that Lady Kilgoif would be a perfect 
 embodiment of Lady Teazle, as "^Sir Peter" suspected, and " Joseph" 
 intended her to be. 
 
 Fears for individual safety were merged in hopes of seeing others 
 assailed, and it was in something like a flutter of expectancy, that the party 
 assembled in the drawing-room before dinner. Great was their surprise 
 to find that Mr. Linton did not make his appearance. The dinner was 
 announced, but' he never ,came, and his place vacant at the foot of the 
 table, was the continual suggester of every possible reason for his ab- 
 sence. If Lady Kilgoff could not divest herself of a certain terror, 
 vague and meaningless, it is true — ^the dread she felt proceeded from 
 knowing him to be one, whose every act had some deep purpose ; while 
 others were then canvassing his absence in easy freedom, she, took the 
 first opportunity of asking Cashel whether he were in the secret, or if it 
 were really true that Linton had not communicated, even with him, about 
 his departure. 
 
 " I am no better informed than my friends here," said Roland ; 
 " and to say truth, I have given myself little thought about the matter. 
 We have not, as you are aware, of late, seen so much of each other as we 
 used once ; he has himself rather drawn off me, and I have left the in- 
 terval between us to widen, without much regret." 
 
 *' Remember, however, what I told you ; he can be a terrible 
 enemy." 
 
 Cashel smiled calmly as he said, " I have consorted with men whose 
 vengeance never took longer to acquit than the time occupied in draw- 
 ing a knife from the sleeve or a pistol from the girdle. I care very 
 little for him whose weapon is mere subtlety." 
 
 "It is this over-confidence makes me fear for you," said she, 
 anxiously — " for, I say again, you do not know him." 
 
 " I wish I never had," said Cashel, with an earnestness of voice and 
 
ROLAin> CASHEL. 345 
 
 accent. "He has involved me in a hundred pursuits, for which I feel 
 neither taste nor enjoyment. To him I owe it — that pleasure is ever 
 associated in my mind with mere debauch, and the only generosity he 
 has taught me, has been the spendthrift waste of the gaming-table." 
 
 " Could you not find out something of him — when, he went, and in 
 what direction ?" said she, anxiously. " I cannot tell you why, but my 
 heart misgives me about his departure." 
 
 More in compliance with her scruples, than that he deemed the 
 matter worth a thought, Cashel left the room, to make inquiries from 
 the servants ; but all he could learn was, that Mr. Linton arose before 
 day-break, and had left the house on foot : his own servant not know- 
 ing in what direction, nor having heard any thing of his master's 
 previous intention. 
 
 His intimacy with the family at the Cottage left it possible that they 
 might know something of his movements, and Cashel accordingly des- 
 patched a messenger thither, to ask ; but with the same fruitless result 
 as every previous inquiry. 
 
 "While Cashel was following up this search, with a degree of interest 
 that increased as the difficulty augmented, he little knew how watch- 
 fully his every word and gesture was noted down by one who stood at 
 his side. This was Mr. PhiUis, who, while seeming to participate in his 
 master's astonishment, threw out from time to time certain strange, 
 vague hints, less suggestive of his own opinions, than as baits, to attract 
 those of his master. 
 
 " Very odd, indeed. Sir — ^very strange — so regular a gentleman, too — 
 always rising at the same hour. His man says he's like the clock. 
 To be sure," added he, after a pause, " his manner is changed 
 of late." 
 
 *' How do you mean ?" asked Cashel, hurriedly. 
 
 *' He seems anxious. Sir — uneasy, as one might say." 
 
 " I have not perceived it." 
 
 *' His man says — " 
 
 " What care I for that," said Cashel, impatiently. " It is not to 
 pry into Mr. Linton's habits that I am here ; it is to assure myself that 
 no accident has happened to him, and that, if he stand in need of my 
 assistance, I shall not be neglecting him. Tell two of the grooms to 
 take horses, and ride down to Killaloe and Dunkeeran, and ask at the 
 Inns there if he has been seen. Let them make inquiry, too, along the 
 road." With these directions, hastily given, he returned to the drawing- 
 room ; his mind far more interested in the event than he knew how to 
 account for. 
 
346 ROLANI> CASHEL. 
 
 " No tidings of Tom," said Lord Charles Frobisher, lounging care- 
 lessly in a well-cushioned chair. 
 
 Cashel made a sign in the negative. 
 
 ** Well, it's always a satisfaction to his friends to know that he'll not 
 come to harm," said he, with an ambiguous smile. 
 
 " The countr}^ is much disturbed at this moment," said the Chief 
 Justice ; " the calendar was a very heavy one last Assize. I trust no 
 marauding party may have laid hold of him." 
 
 " Ah, yes, that would be very sad indeed," sighed Meek, mistaking 
 him for a spy. 
 
 " No great blunder, after all," said Lady Janet, almost loud enough 
 for other ears than her next neighbour's. 
 
 " If the night were moonlight," said Miss Meek, as she opened a 
 shutter and peeped out into the darkness, " I'd say he was trying those 
 fences we have laid out for the hurdle-race." 
 
 '•^ By Jove, Jem, that is a shrewd thought!" said Lord Charles, for- 
 getting that he was addressing her by a familiar soubriquet he never 
 used before company, 
 
 " You have a bet with him, Charley ?" said Upton. 
 
 " Yes, we have all manner of bets on the race, and I'll have one with 
 you, if you like it, an even fifty that Tom turns up * all right and no 
 accident,' after this bolt." 
 
 " Ah, my Lord, you're in the secret, then !" said Aunt Fanny, whose 
 experiences of sporting transactions derived from "the West," induced 
 her to suspect that a wager contained a trap-fall. 
 
 A very cool stare was the only acknowledgment he deigned to return 
 to this speech, while Mrs. Kennyfeck looked unutterable reproaches at 
 her unhappy relative. 
 
 " I call the present company to witness," said Sir Harvey Upton, "that 
 if Tom has come to an untimely end, that he has bequeathed to me his 
 brown cob pony ' Batter.' " 
 
 " I protest against the gift," said Miss Kennyfeck. " Mr. Linton told 
 me if he were killed in the steeple-chase on Tuesday next, I should have 
 * Batter.' " 
 
 *' That was a special reservation, Miss Kennyfeck," said the Chief 
 Justice, "so that if his death did not occur in the manner specified, the 
 deed or gift became nuU and void." 
 
 " I only know," said Miss Meek, " that Mr. Linton said, as we came 
 back from the hurdle- field — ^remember, * Batter' is yours, if— if — "she 
 hesitated and grew red, and then stopped speaking in evident shame and 
 confusion. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 347 
 
 ** If what ? tell us the condition ; you are bound to be candid," said 
 several voices together. 
 
 " I'll tell you, but I'll not tell any one else/' said the young girl, 
 turning to Lady Kilgoff, and at the same instant she whispered in her 
 ear, " If I were to be married to Mr. Cashel." 
 
 "Well," said her Ladyship, laughing, ^'and was the bribe suffi- 
 cient?" 
 
 " I should think not !" replied she, with a scornful toss of the head, 
 as she walked back to her seat. 
 
 " I winna say," said Sir Andrew, " but I ha' a bit claim mysel to that 
 bonnie snuif-box he ca'd a Louis-Quatorze ; if ye mind, Leddies, I 
 asked him to mak' me a present o' it, and he replied : — ' In my weell, 
 Sir Andrew ; I'll leave it ye in my weell.' " 
 
 *' I foresee there will be abundance of litigation," said the Chief 
 Justice ; " for the claims are both numerous and conflicting." 
 
 " You'll not be troubled with the next of kin, I beheve," said Lady 
 Janet, in her most spiteful of voices. 
 
 " I say, my Lord Chief Justice," said Frobisher, " let me have a tra- 
 relling opinion from you, on a legal point. Wouldn't Linton's heirs, or 
 representatives, or whatever they're called, be bound to * book up' if 
 Ramskin is beaten in the handicap." 
 
 " The law expressly declares such transactions without its pale, ray 
 Lord," said the Judge, rebukingly. 
 
 "Well, I can only say," interrupted Upton, "that when we were in 
 cantonments at Sickmabund, Jack Faris * of ours,' had a heavy stake in a 
 game of picket with the Major ; and just as he was going to count his 
 point, he gave a tremendous yell, and jumped up from the table. It 
 was a cobra capella had bitten him in the calf of the leg. Everything 
 was done for him at once, but all in vain, he swelled up to the size of 
 four, and died in about two hours. It was rather hard on old Cox, the 
 Major, who had two hundred pounds on it, and a capital hand ; and so 
 he made a representation to the Mess, showing that he had seven cards 
 to his point, with a quint in hearts ; that, taking in the ace of clubs, he 
 should count a quatorze, and, therefore, unquestionably win tlie game. 
 The thing was clear as day, and so they awarded him the stakes. 
 Cox behaved very handsomely, too ; for he said, ' If Faris*s widow likes 
 to play the game out, I'll give her the opportunity when we get back 
 to England, and back myself, two to one.' " 
 
 " The Chevalier Bayard himself could not have done more," said 
 Miss Kennyfeck, with admirable gravity. 
 
 " I must sav," resumed the dragoon, " we thought it handsome, for 
 old Cox was always hard up for money." 
 
348 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " And what is to become of our theatricals, if Mr. Linton should have 
 been so ill-natured as to drown himself?" said Mrs. White, in a most 
 disconsolate tone, for she had already made terrible havoc in her ward- 
 robe to accomplish a Turkish costume. 
 
 " Such a disappointment as it will be," sighed Olivia Kennyfeck, who 
 had speculated on a last effort upon Cashel in a Mexican dress, where, 
 certes, superfluity should not be the fault. 
 
 " You can always make some compensation for the disappointment," 
 said Lady Kilgoff, " by a fancy ball." 
 
 *'0h, delightful ! the very thing !" exclaimed several together. *' When 
 shall it be, Mr. Cashel ?" 
 
 " I am entirely at your orders," said he, bowing courteously. 
 
 " Shall we say Tuesday, then ?" 
 
 " Not Tuesday, we have the race on that morning," said Frobisher ; 
 ** and some of us, at least, will be too tired for a ball afterwards." 
 
 " Well, Wednesday ; is Wednesday open ?" 
 
 " Wednesday was fixed for a boat excursion to Holy Island," said 
 Cashel. 
 
 " You can't have Thursday, then," exclaimed Lady Janet, " that is 
 the only evening we ever have our rubber. I'll not give you Thursday." 
 
 "Friday we are to have some people at dinner," said Cashel, "and 
 Saturday was to have been some piece of electioneering festivity for 
 Linton's constituents." 
 
 " What matter now," said Mrs. White, " perhaps the poor dear man 
 is in a better place ; a very sad thought," sighed she, " but such things 
 are happening every day." 
 
 " Ah, yes, very sad," responded Meek, who never failed to perform 
 echo to any one's lamentation. 
 
 " Ah, indeed !" chimed in Aunt Fanny, " cut off like a daisy," and she 
 wiped her eyes and looked solemn, for she believed she was quoting 
 scripture. 
 
 At last it was decided that the ball should come off on the earliest 
 evening possible, irrespective of all other arrangements, and now, the 
 company formed in a great circle, discussing dresses and characters and 
 costumes with an eager interest, that showed how little Linton's fate had 
 thrown a shadow over the bright picture of anticipated pleasure. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 349 
 
 CHAPTER XLL 
 
 " He could outrogue a lawyer." 
 
 " Oldham." 
 
 Revealing so freely as we do the hidden wiles of our characters for 
 the reader's pleasure, it would ill become us to affect any reserve or mys_ 
 tery regarding their actions. We shall not make, therefore, any secret 
 of Mr. Linton's absence, or ask of our patient reader to partake of the 
 mystification that prevailed among the company at Tubbermore. 
 
 It so chanced, that on the evening preceding his departure he saw in 
 a newspaper paragraph the arrival of a very distinguished lawyer at 
 Limerick on his way to Dublin, and the thought at once occurred to 
 him, that the opportunity was most favourable for obtaining an opinion 
 respecting the " Corrigan pardon," without incurring either suspicion 
 or any lengthened absence. 
 
 Another object, inferior, but not devoid of interest, also suggested 
 itself. It was this ; profiting by a secret passage which led from the 
 theatre to Cashel's bed-room, it was Linton's custom to visit this chamber 
 every day, ransacking the letters and papers which, in his careless indo- 
 lence, Roland left loose upon the tables, and thus possessing himself of 
 the minutest knowledge of Cashel's affairs. In his very last visit to this 
 room, he perceived a cumbrous document, of which the seal on the enve- 
 lope was broken, but apparently the contents unlooked at. It was 
 enough that he read the endorsement, " Deed of Conveyance of the Cot- 
 tage and Lands of Tubberbeg." 
 
 Feeling how far he himself was interested in the paper, and well 
 knowing the forgetful habits of Cashel, who would never detect its 
 removal, he coolly folded it up and carried it away. 
 
 At first his intention was simply to peruse the paper at his ease — and, 
 if need were, to show it in confidence to Corrigan, and thus establish 
 for himself that degree of influence over the old man which the charac- 
 ter of liis landlord might convey — but, another and a bolder expedient 
 soon suggested itself to his mind, nor was he one to shrink from an 
 enterprise merely on account of its hazard, and this was no less than to 
 forge Cashel's signature to the deed — for, as yet, it was wanting in that 
 most essential particular. 
 
 That Roland would never remember any thing of the matter, and 
 that he would always incline to believe his own memory defective, than 
 suppose such a falsification possible, Linton was well convinced. There 
 
350 EOLAKD CASHEL. 
 
 was but one difficulty : how should he manage for the witnesses, whose 
 names were to be appended, as actually present at the moment of signing. 
 Here was a stumbling-block — since he could scarcely hope to find others 
 as short of memory as was Roland Cashel. It was while still canvassing 
 the question in his mind that he came upon the intelligence in the news- 
 paper of the lawyer's arrival at Limerick, and suddenly it struck him 
 that he could easily in that city find out two persons, who, for a sufficient 
 consideration, would append their signatures to the deed. A little further 
 reflection devised even aaa easier plan, whicli was to take a,long with him 
 the Italian sailor Giovanni, and make him represent Cashel, whose 
 appearance was quite unknown. By Giovanni's personation of Roland, 
 Linton escaped all the hazard of letting others into his confidence, while 
 the sailor himself in a few days more would leave the country — never 
 to return. 
 
 It was -^^ith the calm assurance of a man who could put a price upon 
 any action required of him, that Giovanni found himself, an hour after 
 midnight, summoned to Linton's dressing-room. 
 
 " I told you some time back, Giovanni, that we might be serviceable 
 to each other. The hour has come a little earlier than I looked for ; 
 and now the question is, are you of the same mind as you then were ?" 
 
 ^' I know nothing of the laws of this country, Signor, but if there be 
 life on the issue — " 
 
 " No, no, nothing like that, my worthy fellow. In the present case 
 all I ask for, is, your silence and your secrecy." 
 
 " Oh, that is easily had — go on, Signor." 
 
 ** Well, I wish to go over to-morrow by daybreak to Limerick. I 
 desire, too, that you should accompany me — as my companion, however, 
 and my equal. We are about the same height and size, so take that 
 suit there, dress yourself, and wait for me at the cross roads below the 
 village. 
 
 The Italian took the parcel without speaking, and was about to retire, 
 when Linton said, 
 
 " You can write, I suppose ?' 
 
 The other nodded. 
 
 ** I shall want you to sign a document in presence of witnesses — not 
 your own name, but another, -which I'll tell you." 
 
 The ItaHan's dark eyes flashed with a keen and subtle meaning, and 
 leaning forward, he said in a low, distinct tone, 
 
 " His Excellency means that I should forge a name ?'' 
 
 •* It is «earody deserving so grave a phrase," rq>lied Linton, affecting 
 an easy smile, " but what I ask amounts pretty much to that. Have you 
 scruples about it ?" 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. • 351 
 
 *' My scruples are not easily alarmed, Signor ; only let us understand 
 each other. I'll do any thing'^ — and he laid a deep emphasis on the 
 word — " when I see my way clear before me, nothing, when I'm blind- 
 folded." 
 
 " A man after my own heai't !' cried Linton, " and now good-night ; 
 be true to the time and place," and with this they parted. 
 
 The gray mist of a winter morning was just clearing away as Linton, 
 accompanied by Giovanni, drove up to the principal hotel of Limerick, 
 where Mr. Hammond, the eminent barrister, was then stopping. 
 Having ascertained that he was stiU in the house, Linton, at once, sent 
 up his name, with a request to be admitted to an interview with him. 
 The position he had so long enjoyed among the officials of the Viceroy, 
 had made Linton a person of considerable importance in a city where 
 the " plated article" so often passes for silver, and no sooner had the 
 lawyer read the name, than he immediately returned a polite answer, 
 saying, that he was perfectly at Mr. Linton's orders. 
 
 The few inquiries which Mr. Linton had meanwhile made at the bar 
 of the hotel, mformed him that Mr. Hammond was making all haste to 
 England, where he was about to appear in a case before the House of 
 Lords ; that horses had been already ordered for him along the whole 
 line of road, and his presence in London was imperative. Armed with 
 these facts, Lmton entered the room, where, surrounded with deeds, 
 drafts, and Acts of Parhament, the Learned Counsel was sitting at his 
 breakfast. 
 
 " It was but last night late, Mr. Hammond," said he, advancing with 
 his veiy frankest manner, "that we caught sight of your name as 
 having arrived here, and you see I have lost no time in profiting by the 
 intelligence. I have come thirty Irish miles this day to catch and carry 
 vou off with me to Mr. Cashel's, at Tubbermore." 
 
 " Most kind, indeed — very flattering — I am really overpowered," 
 said the lawyer, actually reddening with pleasure ; and he said the exact 
 truth, he was "overpowered," by a compliment so little expected. For, 
 although high in his profession, and in considerable repute among his 
 brethren, he had never been admitted into that peculiar class which calls 
 itself the first society of the metropolis. 
 
 " I assure you," resumed Linton, "it was by a vote of the whole 
 house I undertook my mission. The Kilgoffs, the BI'Farlines, the 
 Chief Justice, Meek, and — in fact, all your friends are there — and we 
 only want you to make the party complete." 
 
 " I cannot express the regret — the very deep regret, I feel at being 
 obliged to dechne such an honour ; one which, I am free to confess, 
 
352 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 actually takes me by surprise. But, my dear Mr. Linton, you see 
 these weighty papers — that formidable heap yonder — " 
 
 " Meek said so," said Linton, interrupting", and at the same time as- 
 suming a look of deep despondency. ' Hammond will refuse,' said he. 
 * There's no man at the Irish Bar has the same amount of business ; he 
 cannot give his friends even one hour from his clients.' " 
 
 " I 'm sure 1 scarcely suspected the Right Honourable Secretary 
 knew of me," said Hammond, blushing, between pleasure and shame. 
 
 *' Downie not know of you ! — not know Mr. Hammond ! — come, 
 come — ^this may do for a bit of quiz in those Irish newspapers that 
 are always affecting to charge EngHsh officials with ignorance of the 
 distinguished men, here ; but I cannot permit Mr. Hammond himself to 
 throw out the aspersion, nor, indeed, can I suffer Meek, one of my 
 oldest friends to lie under the obloquy. I need not tell one so much 
 more capable of appreciating these things than myself, how every ad- 
 ministration comes into office with a host of followers far more eager for 
 place, and infinitely more confident of their high deservings than the 
 truly capable men of the party. These ''locusts" eat up the first 
 harvest, but, happily for humanity, they rarely live for a second." 
 
 Linton leaned back in his chair, and appeared to be taking counsel 
 with himself, and, at length, as if having formed his resolve, said, 
 
 *' Of course frankness with such a man is never a mistaken policy," 
 and with this muttered soliloquy, again became silent. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 353 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 "It was not Flattery," he sold, but « Hope."— Bell. 
 
 We left Mr. Linton and Mr. Hammond seated opposite eacli other. 
 The former lost in seeming reflection, the latter awaitin<j with eager ex- 
 pectancy for something which might explain the few strange words he 
 had just listened to. 
 
 *' May I venture on a bit of confidence, Mr. Hammond," said Linton, 
 clearing his brow as he spoke ; " you'll never betray me ?" 
 
 " Never — on my honour." 
 
 " Never, willingly, I well know ; but I mean, will you strictly keep 
 what I shall tell you — for yourself alone — because, as I am the only de- 
 positary of the fact, it would be inevitable ruin to me, if it got about." 
 
 " I give you my solemn pledge — I promise." 
 
 ** Quite enough — well — " here he leaned on the other's shoulder, and 
 putting his lips close to his ear, said — " Malone will retire — Repton 
 will be Cliief — and" — here he prodded the listener with his fingerj 
 " Attorney-general." 
 
 ** You mean me. Sir — do you mean that I am to be Attor — " 
 
 " Hush 1" said Linton, in a long low note ; " do not breathe it, even 
 in your sleep ! If I know these things, it is because I am trusted in 
 quarters where men of far more influence are hoodwinked. Were I 
 once to be suspected of even this much, it would be * up' with me for 
 ever." 
 
 " My dear friend — will you pardon me for calling you so ? I'd suff'er 
 the torture of the rack before I'd divulge one syllable of it. I own to 
 3^ou, my family and my friends in general, have not been patient under 
 what they deemed the government neglect of me." 
 
 " And with too good reason, Sir," said Linton, assuming the look and 
 air of a moralizer. " And do you know why you have been passed over, 
 Mr. Hammond ? I'll tell you, Sir ; because your talents were too 
 brilliant, and your integrity too spotless, for promotion, in times, when 
 inferior capacities and more convenient consciences were easier tools to 
 handle ! — Because you are not a man who, once placed in a conspicuous 
 position, can be consigned to darkness and neglect when his capabilities 
 have been proved to the world ! — Because your knowledge. Sir — your 
 deep insight into the political condition of this country, would soon 
 have placed you above the heads of the very men who appointed you. 
 But times are changed — capable men — zealous men — aye, Sir, and I 
 
 2a 
 
354 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 will say, great men, are in request, now. The Public will h^ye them, 
 and Ministers can no longer either overlook their claim, or ignore their 
 merit. You may rely upon it — I see something of what goes on behind 
 the scenes of the great state drama — and be assured, that a new era is 
 about to dawn on the really able men of this country." 
 
 " Your words have given me a degree of encouragement, Mr. Linton, 
 that I was very far from ever expecting to receive. I have often 
 deplored — not on my own account, I pledge my honour — but I have 
 grieved for others, who I have seen here, unnoticed and undistinguished 
 by successive Governments." 
 
 " Well, there is an end of the system now, and it was time !" said 
 Linton, solemnly. " But to come back. Is there no chance of stealing 
 you away, even for a couple of days ?" 
 
 " Impossible, my dear Mr. Linton. The voluminous mass of evidence 
 yonder, relates to an appeal case, in which I am to appear before ' the 
 Lords.' It is a most important suit ; and I am at this very moment on 
 my way to London, to attend a consultation with the Solicitor- General.'' 
 
 " How unfortunate, for us — I mean — for, indeed, your client cannot 
 join in the 'plaint. By the way, your mention of ' the Lords,' reminds 
 me of a very curious circumstance. You are aware of the manner in 
 which my friend Cashel succeeded to this great estate here ?" 
 
 " Yes. I was consulted on a point of law in it, and was present at 
 the two trials." 
 
 *' Well, a most singular discovery has been made within the last few 
 days. I suppose you remember that the property had been part of a 
 confiscated estate, belonging to an old Irish family, named Corrigan ?" 
 
 *' I remember perfectly a very fine old man, that used to be well 
 known at Daly's Club, long ago." 
 
 " The same. Well, this old gentleman has been always under the 
 impression that shortly after the accession of George III., the Act of 
 Confiscation was repealed, and a full pardon granted to his ancestors for 
 the part they had taken in the events of the time." 
 
 " I never knew the descendants of one of those * confiscated' families, 
 who had not some such hallucination," said Hammond, laughing ; " they 
 cling to the straw, like the drowning man." 
 
 *' Exactly," said Linton. ** I quite agree with you. In the present 
 case, however, the support is better than a straw ; for there is an actual, 
 bona fide document extant, purporting to be the very pardon in ques- 
 tion, signed by the King, and bearing the royal seal." 
 
 " Where is this ? In whose possession ?" said Hammond, eagerly. 
 
 Linton did not heed the question, but continued : 
 
KOLAKD CASHEL. ^55 
 
 " By a very singular coincidence, the discovery is not of so much 
 moment as it might be ; because, as Cashel is about to marry the old 
 man's grand-daughter — his sole heiress — no change in the destination 
 of the estate would ensue, even supposing Corrigan's title to be all that 
 he ever conceived it. However, Cashel is really anxious on the point : 
 he feels scruples about making settlements and so forth, with the con- 
 sciousness that he may be actually disposing of what he has no real 
 claim to. He is a sensitive fellow ; and yet he dreads, on the other side, 
 the kind of exposure that would ensue, in the event of this discovery 
 becoming known. The fact is, his own ancestors were little better 
 than bailiffs on the estate ; and the inference from this new-found paper 
 would lead one to say, not over-honest stewards besides." 
 
 " But if this document be authentic, Mr. Linton, Cashel's title is 
 not worth sixpence." 
 
 " That is exactly what I'm coming to," said Linton ; who the reader 
 may have already perceived, was merely Inventing a case regarding a 
 marriage, the better to learn from the counsel the precise position the 
 estate would stand in, towards Mary Leicester's husband. " If this docu- 
 ment be authentic, Cashel's title is invalid. Now, what would consti- 
 tute its authenticity ?" 
 
 " Several circumstances : the registry of the pardon in the State 
 Paper Office — the document itself, bearing the unmistakeable evidences 
 of its origin — the signature and seal — in fact, it could not admit of 
 much doubt when submitted to examination." 
 
 " I told Cashel so," said Linton. " I said to him, * My opinion un- 
 questionably is that the pardon is genuine ; but,' said I, ' when we have 
 Hammond here, he shall see it, and decide the question.' " 
 
 " Ah ! that is impossible " 
 
 " So I perceive," broke in Linton ; " we then hoped otherwise." 
 
 " Why didn't you bring it over with you ?" 
 
 ''So I did," said Linton; "here it is;" and, opening a carefully- 
 folded envelope, he placed the important document in the lawyer's 
 hands. 
 
 Hammond spread it out upon the table, and sat down to read it over 
 carefully, while Linton to afford the more time to the scrutiny, took the 
 opportunity of descending to his breakfast. 
 
 He stopped as he passed the bar to say a few words to the landlord, 
 — one of those easy speeches he knew so well how to make about the 
 " state of trade," *' what travellers were passing," and " how the pros- 
 pect looked for the coming season," and then, when turning away, as if 
 suddenly recollecting himself, said, — 
 
 2 A 2 
 
356 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " By the way, Swindon, you're a cautious fellow, that a man may 
 trust with a secret — you know who the gentleman is that came 
 with me?" 
 
 " No, Sir, never saw him before. Indeed, I did not remark him 
 closely." 
 
 " All the better, Swindon. He does not fancy anything like scrutiny. 
 He is Mr. Roland Cashel." 
 
 " Of Tubbermore, Sir?" 
 
 " The same — hush, man — be cautious ! He has come up here about 
 a little law business on which he desired to consult Mr. Hammond, and 
 now we have a document for signature, if you could only find us another 
 person equally discreet with yourself to be the witness, for these kind of 
 things, when they get about in the world, are misrepresented in a thou- 
 sand ways. Do you happen to have any confidential man here would 
 suit us?" 
 
 " If my head-waiter, Sir, Mr. Nipkin, would do, he writes an excellent 
 hand, and is a most reserved, cautious young man." 
 
 "Perfectly, Swindon, he'll do perfectly. Will you join us up-stairs 
 •where my friend is in waiting. Pray, also, give Nipkin a hint not to 
 bestow any undue attention on Mr. Cashel, who wants to be incog, so 
 far as may be; as for yourself, Swindon, no hint is necessary." 
 
 A graceful bow from the landlord acknowledged the compliment, and 
 he hastened to give the necessary orders, while Linton continued his 
 way to the apartment where the Italian awaited him. 
 
 " Impatient for breakfast, I suppose, Giovanni ?" said Linton, gaily, 
 as he entered. " Well, sit down, and let us begin. Already I have 
 done more than half of the business which brought me here, and we 
 may be on our way back within an hour." 
 
 Giovanni seated himself at the table without any of that constraint 
 a sense of inferiority enforces, and began his breakfast in silence. 
 
 "You understand," said Linton, ** that when you have written the 
 name Roland Cashel, and are asked if that be your act and deed, you 
 have simply to say * Yes,' a bow, a mere nod, indeed, is sufficient." 
 
 " I understand," said he, thoughtfully, as if reflecting over the 
 matter with himself. " I conclude then," added he, after a pause, 
 " that the sooner I leave the country afterwards, the better — I mean the 
 safer — for me.*' 
 
 " As to any positive danger," said Linton, affecting an easy careless- 
 ness, " there is none. The document is merely a copy of one already 
 signed by Mr. Cashel, but which I have mislaid, and I am so ashamed 
 of my negligence I cannot bring myself to confess it." 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 357 
 
 This tame explanation Linton was unable to finish without faltering, 
 for the Italian's keen and piercing" dark eyes seemed to penetrate into 
 him as he was speaking, 
 
 " With this I have nothing to do," said he, abruptly. " It is quite 
 clear, however, that Giovanni Santini is not Roland Cashel ; nor, if there 
 he a penalty on what I have done, am I so certain that he whose name 
 J shall have forged will undergo it in my place." 
 
 " You talk of forgery and penalties as if we were about to commit a 
 felony," said Linton, laughing. " Pray give me the cream. There is 
 really no such peril in the case, and if there were it would be all 
 mine." 
 
 " I know nothing of your laws here — I desire to know nothing of 
 them," said the Italian, haughtily ; " but if it should be my lot to be 
 arraigned, let it be for something more worthy of manhood. I'll sign 
 the paper, but I shall leave the country at once." 
 
 No words could have been more grateful to Linton's ears than these. 
 He was, even at that very moment, considering in his own mind in what 
 way to disembarrass himself of his " friend" when this service should 
 have been effected. 
 
 " As you please, Giovanni," said he, gravely. " I regret to part 
 company so soon with one whose frankness so well accords with my own 
 humour." 
 
 The Italian's lips parted slightly, and a smile of cold and dubious 
 meaning flitted across his dark features. 
 
 " We part here, then," said he, rising from the table. " There is a 
 vessel leaves this for Bristol at noon to-day. It is already past eleven 
 o'clock." 
 
 " I'll not delay," said Linton, rising and ringing the bell ; " send 
 Mr. Swindon here," said he to the waiter, while he opened a parchment 
 document upon the table, and after hastily glancing over it, folded it 
 carefully again, leaving uppermost the margin, where certain pencil 
 marks indicated the places of signature. " This is yours, Giovanni," 
 said he, placing a weighty purse in the Italian's hand, who took it with 
 all the easy indifference of one whose feelings of shame were not too 
 acute. " Remember what I have — " 
 
 There was no time to finish, for already a light tap was heard at the 
 door, and the landlord, followed by the head-waiter, entered. 
 
 ** We are pressed for time, Swindon," said Linton, as he examined 
 the pens, which, lilve all hotel ones, seemed invented for ruling music 
 paper, " and have sent for you to witness the signature to this do- 
 
358 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 cument. Here, Cashel, you are to sign here," said he, turning to 
 Giovanni, who had just lighted a cigar, and was smoking away with all 
 imaginable coolness. The Italian took the pen, and with a bold and 
 steady hand wrote the words " Roland Cashel." 
 
 " Mr. Swindon at this side, Mr. Nipkin's name comes underneath." 
 
 " You acknowledge this for your hand and seal, Sir ?" said Swindon, 
 turning towards Giovanni. 
 
 " I do," said the Italian, in an accent which did not betray the 
 slightest emotion, nor any trace of foreign pronunciation. 
 
 "All right; thank you, Swindon — thanks Mr. Nipkin," said Linton, 
 as with an elation of countenance all his efforts could not suppress, he 
 folded up the parchment ; " and now, will you order my horses at 
 once ?" 
 
 The landlord and the waiter left the room, and Linton found himself 
 once more alone with Giovanni ; the only consolation he felt, being, that 
 it was for the last time. There was a pause, in which each gazed 
 steadily at the other without a word. At last, with a long-drawn sigh, 
 Giovanni exclaimed, 
 
 " Pendio ; but it is hard to do I" and with this he pressed his hat upon 
 his brows, and waving a careless farewell with his hand, walked out? 
 leaving Linton in a state of amazement not altogether unmingled with 
 fear. Tom watched the tall and stalwart figure of the foreigner as he 
 moved through the crowd that filled the quay, and it was with a sense 
 of relief, he could not explain to himself, that he saw him cross the 
 plank that led to the steamer, on whose deck numerous passengers were 
 already assembled. The bell rung out in warning of her approaching 
 departure, and Linton kept his eyes intently fixed upon the one figure, 
 which towered above the others around him. Already the scene of 
 bustle portended the moment of starting, and some were hastening on 
 board, as others with not less eagerness, were endeavouring to get on 
 shore ; when, just at that instant, the landlord's voice was heard. — 
 
 " Mr. Hammond is just going off. Sir ; he wants to say one word to 
 you before he goes." 
 
 Mr. Hammond had just taken his seat in his carriage, and sat with 
 one hand upon the door, awaiting Linton's coming. 
 
 " I am run sharp for time, Mr. Linton," cried he, "and have not a 
 second to lose. I wish sincerely I could have given a little more time to 
 that document, not indeed that any feature of difficulty exists in forming 
 an opinion, only that I believe I could have put your friend on the safe 
 road as to his future course." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 359 
 
 ** You regard it then as authentic, as a good and valid instrument?" 
 said Linton, in a low but eager voice. 
 
 " So much so," said Hammond, lowering his tone to a mere whisper ; 
 " that if he does not marry the young lady in question, I would not 
 give him twenty shillings for his title." 
 
 " By Jove !" exclaimed Linton, leaning his head on the door of the 
 carriage, as if to conceal his chagrin, but in reality to hide the exube- 
 rance of his joy; " and this is your candid opinion of the case ?" 
 
 " I am willing to stake my fame as a lawyer on the issue; for, re- 
 member, the whole history of the suit is familiar to me ; I recollect well 
 the flaws in the course of proofs adduced, and I see how this discovery 
 reconciles each discrepancy, and supplies every missing link of the 
 chain." 
 
 - " Poor fellow — it will be a sad blow for him," said Linton, with ad- 
 mirably-feigned emotion. 
 
 " But it need not, Mr. Linton. The church can tie a knot, not even 
 an Equity suit can open. Let him marry." 
 
 *' Aye, if he will." 
 
 '' Tell him he must ; tell him what I now tell you, that this girl is the 
 greatest heiress in the land, and that he is a beggar. Plain speaking, 
 Mr. Linton, but time is short ; good bye." 
 
 " One word more. Is the document of such a nature that leaves 
 him no case whatever? Is all the ground cut away beneath his 
 feet?" 
 
 " Every inch of it, once more. Good bye ; here is your parchment ; 
 keep it safely ; there are few men in this city hold in their hands a paper 
 of such moment." 
 
 " I'll take good care of it," said Linton, sententiously ; " and so 
 good bye, and a safe journey to you. I'll not forget our conversation 
 of this morning. Meek shall hear of it before I sleep to-night. 
 Adieu." 
 
 " The richest heiress in the land, and Cashel a beggar," repeated 
 Linton, slowly, to himself, as the carriage drove off. '' Charley Fro- 
 bisher would say, ' Hedge on the double event,' but I'll keep my book,' 
 and, with this slang reflection, he sauntered into the inn to wait for his 
 horses. 
 
360 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 " His counsel, like his physic, 
 
 If hard to take, was good when taken." 
 
 Village Worthies. 
 
 Long before the guests of Tubbermore were astir, Cashel sat in his 
 library awaiting the arrival of Doctor Tiernay. In obedieuce to Ro- 
 land's request, Mr. Kennyfeck was present, and affected to look over 
 books or out of windows — to scan over prints or inspect maps — any- 
 thiug in short which should pass the time and shorten the interval of 
 waiting — doubly awkward from being the first moment he had been 
 alone with Cashel since his arrival. 
 
 Cashel was silent and absorbed, and more intent upon following out the 
 train of his own thoughts, never noticed the various arts by which Ken- 
 nyfeck affected to interest himself. The Solicitor, too, bent from time 
 to time a stealthy look on the young man, on whose features he had 
 rarely seen the same traces of deep reflection. 
 
 At last, with a half start, as if suddenly awaking, Cashel sat up in 
 his chair, and said — , ^ . .' 
 
 " Have I explained to you what Doctor Tiernay 's business is Here, 
 this morning ? It is to make a proposition from Mr. Corrigan for the 
 sale of his interest in Tubberbeg. He wishes to leave the country and 
 go abroad." 
 
 " His interest, Sir," replied Kennyfeck, calmly; " although more 
 valuable to you than to any one else, must be a matter of small amount; 
 for years back, he has done little more than vegetate on the property 
 without capital or skill to improve it." 
 
 " I'm not asking you to appraise it just yet," said Roland, snappishly;' 
 " I was simply informing you the object of the gentleman's visit. It 
 is the advantage of this purchase that I wished you to consider, not its 
 cost." 
 
 " The cost will define the advantage. Sir,'* rejoined Kennyfeck, 
 " particularly as the demand may be high, and the payment inconve- 
 nient." ,-p 
 
 " How do you mean, Inconvenient ?" 
 
 Kennyfeck hesitated. There was something in the hurried abrupt- 
 ness of the question, as well as in the excited expression of the ques- 
 tioner's face, that confused him ; so that Cashel had time to repeat the 
 words before he could reply. 
 
 " Is it that I am straitened for money ?" said he, passionately. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 361 
 
 " Not quite — ^that — Sir," replied Kennyfeck, stopping between every 
 word. " You have resources — very great resources — untouched, and 
 you have considerable sums in foreign securities, intact — " 
 
 " Never mind these," broke in Roland, hurriedly. " How do we 
 stand with those London fellows ?" 
 
 Kennyfeck shook his head gravely, but without speaking. 
 
 " I pray you. Sir," said Roland, in a voice of hardly-suppressed pas- 
 sion, " keep pantomime for another moment, or a keener interpreter of 
 it, and condescend, in plain English, to answer me my last question." 
 
 " There is no difficulty with Bigger and Swain, Sir," said Kennyfeck, 
 as his cheek grew slightly red. " They will neither be pressing for a 
 settlement, nor exacting when making it ; besides, you have not over- 
 drawn very hea^dly after all." 
 
 " Overdrawn, said you ? — did you say overdrawn, Mr. Kennyfeck ?'* 
 
 *' Yes, Sir. In the account last forwarded, your debit was eleven 
 thousand four hundred and forty pounds ; since that you have drawn — 
 but not for any large amount." 
 
 " Overdrawn !" repeated Cashel, as though his thoughts had never 
 wandered beyond the first shock of that fact ; then rallying into some- 
 thing like his habitual easy Immour, he said, " I am, I need not tell 
 you, the stupidest man of business that ever breathed, so pray forgive 
 me if I ask you once more, if I understood you aright that I have not 
 only expended all the money I owned in these people's hands, but 
 actually had contracted a debt to them ?" 
 
 " That is the case. Sir," said Kennyfeck, gravely. 
 
 A deep groan broke from Cashel, and he sat silent and still. 
 
 " I would wish to observe, Sir," said Kennyfeck, who was shocked 
 at the alteration a few moments had made in the young man's counte- 
 nance, " I would wish to observe, Sir, that if you desire a sum of money 
 for any purpose — " 
 
 *' Stay— let me interrupt you here," said Cashel, laying his hand on 
 Kennyfeck's arm, and using a tone whose earnest distinctness thrilled 
 through his hearer's heart ; " I should deceive you, were you to suppose 
 that it is the want of money gives me the pain I am now suffering. 
 That I had believed myself rich a few moments back, and now found 
 myself a beggar, could not give one-thousandth part of that suffering 
 which I feel here. I have braved poverty in every form, and I could 
 brave it again ; but I'll tell you what it is that now cuts me to the soul, 
 and lowers me to myself. It is that, in a senseless, heartless career, I 
 should have squandered the wealth by which I once imagined I was to 
 bless and succour hundreds. It is to think, that of all the gold I have 
 
362 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 wasted, not one memory has been purchased of a sick bed consoled, a 
 suffering lessened, a sinking spirit encouraged — I have done nothing, 
 actually nothing, save pamper vice and sensual heartlessness. I came 
 to this kingdom a few months back, my very dreams filled with schemes 
 of benevolence. I felt as if this wealth were given to me that I might 
 show the world how much of good may be done by one, who, having 
 experienced narrow fortune, should best know how to relieve it in others ; 
 and now, here am I, the wealth and the high aspirations alike departed, 
 with no tradition to carry away, save of a life passed in debauch, the 
 friendship of worthless, the pitying contempt of good men ! Hear me 
 out. I was nurtured in no school of sentiment ; I belonged to a class 
 who had too little time or taste to indulge scruples. We were reckless, 
 passionate — cruel, if you will — but we were not bad in cold blood ; we 
 seldom hated long ; we never could turn on a benefactor. These are 
 not the lessons I've lived to learn here ! It is over, however — it is past 
 now ! I'll go back to the old haunts, and the old comrades. It will 
 go hard with me if I quarrel with their rude speech and rough de- 
 meanour. I'll think of gentlemen I and be grateful.'' 
 
 The rapid utterance in which he poured forth these words, and the 
 fervid excitement of his manner, abashed Kennyfeck, and deterred him 
 from reply. Cashel was the first to speak. 
 
 " This arrangement, however, must be provided for ; whatever Mr. 
 Corrigan's interest be worth — or rather whatever he will accept in lieu 
 of it — I insist upon his having. But I see Doctor Tiemay coming up 
 to the door ; we can talk of these things at another time." 
 
 When Tiernay entered the library he was heated with his walk, and 
 his face betrayed unmistakeable signs of recent irritation ; indeed, he 
 did not long conceal the reason. 
 
 " Is it true, Mr. Gashel, that Mr. Linton is your nominee for the 
 borough of Derraheeny ?" 
 
 "Yes; what of that?" 
 
 " Why, that he canvasses the constituency in a fashion we have not 
 yet been accustomed to ; at least your tenants, of whom I am one, are 
 told that our votes are the condition on which our leases will receive 
 renewal ; that you will not brook opposition in any one who holds under 
 you. Are these your sentiments, Mr. Cashel, or only his ?" 
 
 " Not mine, assuredly," replied Cashel, gravely. 
 
 " I said as much. I told several of my neighbours that if this mode 
 of canvass had your sanction, it was from not knowing the privileges of 
 an elector." 
 
 " I neither sanctioned nor knew of it," rejoined Cashel, eagerly. 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 363 
 
 " So much the better — at least for me," said TIernay, seating him- 
 self at the breakfast-table, " for I shall not lose a good breakfast, as I 
 should have been forced to do had these been your intentions." 
 
 " I would observe, Doctor Tiernay," interposed Kennyfeck, mildly, 
 "that the borough, being entirely the property of Mr. Cashel, its 
 charities maintained by his bounty, and its schools supported at his cost, 
 that he has a fair claim on the gratitude of those who benefit by his 
 benevolence/' 
 
 " Let him stand himself for the borough, and we'll not deny the 
 debt," said Tiernay, roughly ; "but if for every ten he should expend a 
 hundred, aye. Sir, or a thousand on the village, I'd not vote for Mr. 
 Linton." 
 
 " Most certainly. Doctor ; I'd never seek to coerce you," said Cashel, 
 smiling. 
 
 " Labour lost, Sir. I am your tenant for a holding of twenty-two 
 pounds a-year. I have never been in arrear ; you, consequently, have not 
 granted me any favour, save that of extending your acquaintance to me. 
 Now, Sir, except that you are a rich man and I a poor one, how is 
 even that condescension on your part a favour ? and how could you 
 purpose upon it, to ask me to surrender my right of judgment on an 
 important point, to you, who, from your high station, your rank and 
 influence, have a thousand prerogatives, while / have but this one ?" 
 
 " I never heard the just influence of the landed proprietor disputed 
 before," said Kennyfeck, who felt outraged at the Doctor's hardihood. 
 
 " It is only just influence, Sir," said Tiernay, " when he who wields 
 it, is an example, as much by his life, as by the exercise of an ability 
 that commands respect. Show me a man at the head of a large pro- 
 perty, extending the happiness of his tenantry, succouring the sick, 
 assisting the needy, spreading the blessings of his own knowledge 
 among those who have neither leisure nor opportunity to acquire it for 
 themselves. Let me see him, while enjoying to the fullest the bounteous 
 gifts that are but the portion of few in this world, not forgetful of those 
 whose life is toil, and whose struggle is for mere existence. Let me 
 not know the landlord only by his liveries and his equipage, his fox- 
 hounds, his plate, his racers, and his sycophants." 
 
 " Hard hitting, Doctor !" cried Cashel, interrupting. 
 
 '* Not if you can take it so good-humouredly," said Tiernay ; '*not 
 if it only loose me the honour of ever entering here, and teach you to 
 reflect on these things." 
 
 " You mistake me much," said Cashel, '' if you judge me so nar- 
 rowly." 
 
364 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " I did not think thus meanly of you ; nor if I did, would it have 
 stopped me. I often promised myself that if I could but eat of a rich 
 man's salt, I'd tell him my mind, while under the protection of his 
 hospitality. 1 have paid my debt now ; and so, no more of it. Kenny- 
 feck could tell you better than I, if it be not, in part at least, deserved. 
 All this splendour that dazzles our eyes, — all this luxury, that makes the 
 contrast of our poverty the colder, — all this reckless waste, that is like 
 an unfeeling jest upon our small thrift, is hard to bear when we see it, 
 not the pastime of an idle hour, but the business of a life. You can 
 do far better things than these, and be happier as well as better for 
 doing them ! And now, Sir, are you in the mood to discuss my friend's 
 project ?" 
 
 " Perfectly so, Doctor ; you have only to speak your sentiments on 
 the matter before Mr. Kennyfeck; my concurrence is already with 
 you." biiiO'ff i 
 
 " We want you to buy our interest in Tubberbeg," said "the Doctor, 
 drawing his chair in front of Kennyfeck ; " and though you'll tell us 
 that flower plats and hollies, laurestinas and geraniums, are not wealth, 
 we'll insist your remunerating us for some share of the cost. The spot 
 is a sweet one, and will improve your demesne. Kow, what's it 
 worth ?" 
 
 *' There are difficulties which may preclude any arrangement," said 
 Kennyfeck, gravely. " There was a deed of gift of this very property 
 made out, and only awaiting Mr. Cashel's signature." 
 
 *' To whom ?" said Tiernay, gasping with anxiety. 
 
 " To Mr. Linton." 
 
 " The very thing I feared," said the old man, dropping his head, 
 sorrowfully. 
 
 " It is easily remedied, I fancy," said Cashel. " It was a hasty pro- 
 mise given to afford him qualification for Parliament. I'll give him 
 something of larger value. I know he'll not stand in our way here." 
 
 " How you talk of giving, Sir ! You should have been the Good 
 Fairy of a nursery tale, and not a mere man of acres and bank-notes. 
 But have your own way. It's only anticipating the crash a month or 
 so ; ruined you must be 1" 
 
 " Is that so certain," said Cashel, half-smiling, half-seriously. 
 
 " Ask Mr. Kennyfeck, there, whose highest ambition half a year ago 
 was to be your agent, and now he'd scarcely take you for a son-in-law ! 
 Don't look so angry, man ; what I said is but an illustration. It will 
 be with your property as it was with your pleasure-boat t'other day ; 
 you'll never know you've struck till you're sinking." 
 
 " You affect to have a very intimate knowledge of Mr. Cashel's 
 
PtOLAND CASHEL. 365 
 
 affairs, Sir," said Kennyfeck, who was driven beyond all further en- 
 durance. 
 
 " Somewhat more than you possess, Mr. Kennyfeck ; for I know his 
 tenantry. Not as you know them, from answering to their names at 
 rent-day, but from seeing them in seasons of distress and famine, — from 
 hearing their half-uttered hopes, that better days were coming when 
 the new landlord himself was about to visit them, — from listening to 
 their sanguine expectations of benefits, — and now, within some few 
 days, from hearing the low mutterings of their discontent — the prelude 
 of worse than that." 
 
 " I have seen nothing else than the same scenes for forty years, but I 
 never remember the people more regular in their payments," said the 
 Attorney. 
 
 *' Well, don't venture among the Drumcoologhan boys alone ; that, 
 at least, I would recommend you," said the Doctor, menacing. 
 
 "Why not? — who are they? — where are these fellows?" cried 
 Cashel, for danger was a theme that never failed to stir his heart. 
 
 "It's a bad barony. Sir," said Kennyfeck, solemnly. 
 
 "A district that has supplied the gallows and the convict-ship for 
 many a year; but we are wandering away from the theme we ought to 
 discuss," interposed Tiernay, " and the question narrows itself to this, 
 if this property is still yours — if you have not already consigned it to 
 another — what is my friend's interest worth?" 
 
 " That will require calculation and reflection." 
 
 " Neither, Mr. Kennyfeck," broke in Cashel. " Learn Mr. Corrigan's 
 expectations, and see that they are complied with." 
 
 " My friend desired a small annuity on the life of his granddaughter." 
 
 " Be it an annuity, then," replied Cashel. 
 
 " By Heaven !" exclaimed Tiernay, as if he could not restrain the 
 impulse that worked within him — " You are a fine-hearted fellow. 
 Here, Sir," said he, taking a paper from his pocket, " here is a docu- 
 ment, which my poor friend sat up half the night to write, but which 
 I'd half made up my mind never to give you. You'd never guess what 
 it is, nor your keen friend either, but I'll spare you the trouble of spell- 
 ing it over. It's a renunciation of Matthew Corrigan, Esq., for himself 
 and his heirs for ever, of all right, direct or contingent, to the estate of 
 Tubbermore, once the family property of his ancestors for eleven 
 generations." 
 
 " You never heard of such a claim," said Tiernay, turning to Cashel. 
 " But Mr. Kennyfeck did ; he knows well the importance of that piece 
 of paper he affects to treat with such indifference." 
 
366 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " And do you suppose, Sir, that if this claim you speak of, be a good 
 and valid one, that I could, as a man of honour, maintain a possession 
 to which I had no right. No ; let Mr. Corrigan take back that paper; 
 let him try his right, as the laws enable him. If I stand not here as 
 the just owner of this house, I am ready to leave it at this instant, but 
 I am neither to be intimidated by a threat, nor conciliated by a com- 
 promise." 
 
 '' Mr. Corrigan's claim has nothing to go upon, I assure you," broke 
 in Kennyfeck. " If we accept the paper it is by a courtesy to show 
 that we respect the feeling that suggested it — nothing more." 
 
 While these words were addressed to Tiernay, Cashel, who had 
 walked towards one of the windows, did not hear them. 
 
 " Well," cried Tiernay, after an awkward pause, <* the devil a worse 
 negotiator ever accepted a mission than myself ! When I desire to be 
 frank, the only truths that occur to me are sure to be offensive, and I 
 never am so certain to insult, as when I fancy I'm doing a favour. 
 Good-bye, Sir ; pardon the liberties of an old man, whose profession 
 has taught him to believe that remedies are seldom painless, and who, 
 although a poor man, would rather any day lose the fee than the 
 patient ! You'll not treat Mat Corrigan the less kindly because he has 
 an imprudent friend. I'm sorry to think that I leave an unfavourable 
 impression behind me ; but I'm glad, heartily glad, I came here to 
 breakfast, for I go away convinced of two things, that I was far from 
 believing so certain, when I entered." 
 
 He paused for a second or two, and then said, 
 
 ^'That a spendthrift could have an unblemished sense of honour, and 
 that an attorney could appreciate it !" 
 
 With these words he departed, while Cashel, after staring for a few 
 moments at Kennyfeck, threw himself back in his chair, and laughed 
 long and heartily. 
 
 "An original, Sir ; quite an original !" said Kennyfeck, who, not 
 exactly knowing whether to accept the Doctor's parting speech as a 
 compliment, or the reverse, contented himself with this very vague 
 expression. 
 
 " He's a fine old fellow, although he does lay on his salve in Indian 
 fashion, with a scalping-knife ; but I wish he'd not have said anything 
 of that confounded paper." 
 
 " Pardon me, Sir," interposed Kennyfeck, taking it from hia pocket, 
 " but it might prove of inestimable value, in the event of any future 
 litigation." 
 
 <« What! you kept it, then ?" cried Cashel. 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 367 
 
 " Of course I did, Sir. It is a document scarce inferior to a deed of 
 title; for although Mr. Corrigan has nothing to substantiate a claim at 
 law, it is incontestable that his family were the original owners of this 
 estate." 
 
 Cashel took the paper from Kennyfeck's hand, and seemed to peruse 
 it for some minutes, and then approaching the fire he threw it into the 
 blaze, and pressed it down with the poker till it was consumed; while 
 Kennyfeck, too much consternated to utter a word, stood the personifi- 
 cation of terror-struck astonishment. 
 
 " You have burnt it, Sir !" said he at last, in a whisper. 
 
 '^Why not, Sir?" cried Cashel, rudely. *' Should I have made use 
 of it against the man who wrote it, or against his heirs, if by chance 
 they should seek one day to dispute my right ?" 
 
 A deep sigh was all the reply Kennyfeck could make. 
 
 " I understand your compassion well," said Cashel, scornfully. " You 
 are right. Sir. It was the buccaneer, not the gentleman spoke there ; 
 but I'm sick of masquerading, and I long for a little reality." 
 
 Without waiting for a reply, Roland left the room, and wandered 
 out into the Park. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 " Like Dido's self," she said " I'm free ! 
 Trojian or Tyrian, are alike to me." 
 
 There was but one species of tyranny Mr. Kennyfeck ever attempted 
 in his family : this was, to shroud with a solemn mystery every little 
 event in his professional career which he saw excited any curiosity with 
 his wife and daughters. It was true, that, on such occasions he became 
 a mark for most sneering insinuations and derisive commentaries ; but 
 he rose with the dignity of a martyr above all their taunts ; and doubtless 
 felt in his heart the supporting energy of a high priest standing watch 
 over the gate of the Temple. 
 
 The few pencilled lines by Cashel, which had summoned him to the 
 meeting recorded in the last chapter, he threw into the fire as soon as 
 he had read, and then arising from the breakfast-table, drily observed, 
 
 " Don't wait breakfast, Mrs. Kennyfeck, I shall not be back for some 
 time." 
 
 " Another secret, Mr. Kennyfeck," said his wife, scoffingly. 
 
 He only smiled in reply. ' ; -'i , 
 
368 EOLAJfD CASHEL. 
 
 " It ought to be a duel, at least, Pa," said his eldest daughter, " from 
 the urgent haste of your departure." 
 
 " Or a runaway couple, who wish to have the settlements " 
 
 " Is that all you know of the matter, Livy ?" said her sister, laughing 
 heartily ; " why, child, your Gretna Green folks never have settlements 
 — never think of them till six months later, when they are wanting to 
 Separate." 
 
 " Is there any occasion for mystery in this case ?" rejoined Mrs. 
 Kennyfeck, haughtily. 
 
 " To be sure there may, my dear," broke in Aunt Fanny ; " there's 
 many a dirty thing the lawyers have to do, they'd be ashamed to own 
 before their families." 
 
 Even this did not move Mr. Kennyfeck, although from the way he 
 nestled his chin behind the folds of his white cravat, and a certain 
 scarcely perceptible shake of the head, it was clear he longed to refute 
 the foul aspersion. 
 
 " I suppose you will appear at dinner, Sir," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, with 
 her grandest air. 
 
 *' I hope so, Mrs. Kennyfeck," was the mild answer. 
 " Without you should take it into your head, Pa, to enter into rivalry 
 with Mr. Linton, and stay away. Heaven knows where or how long," 
 said Miss Kennyfeck. 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck did not wait for more, but left the room with an air 
 whose solemnity well suited any amount of secrecy. 
 
 " Is there a carriage at the door," said Mrs. Kennyfeck. 
 "No, Mamma; there are three saddle-horses — one with a side-saddle. 
 That odious Miss Meek !" exclaimed Miss Kennyfeck, " what can Lord 
 Charles see in her I cannot conceive ? To be sure, she saves a stable- 
 boy the more, and that to him is something." 
 
 " Has your father gone out by the back terrace ?" resumed Mrs. 
 Kennyfeck, one only theme occupying her thoughts. 
 
 Olivia retired into an adjoining room, and soon returned, saying, 
 "No, Ma; there's no one there, except Sir Andrew and Lady Janet, 
 taking their morning walk." 
 
 " Their run rather, my dear," chimed in Miss Kennyfeck ; " for she 
 chases the poor old man up and down with a cup of camomile tea, 
 which either scalds or sets him a- coughing. I'm sure that tiresome 
 old couple have awoke me every day the last week with their 
 squabbling." 
 
 " Step down into the library, my love," said Mrs. Kennyfeck to her 
 younger daughter, " and bring me up the Post or the St. James's 
 Chronicle,** 
 
 I 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 369 
 
 " And if you meet Phillis, just ask if he saw your father; for he 
 forgot his gloves;" and, suiting the action to the word, Aunt Fanny dived 
 into a cavern of an apron-pocket, and drew out a pair of knitted things 
 without fingers, which she offered to OHvia. 
 
 *' Do no such thing, Miss OHvia Kennyfeck," said her Mamma, with 
 an air of imposing grandeur. 
 
 " Ma wants the newspaper, Olivia, and is not thinking of Papa," 
 said Miss Kennyfeck, and her eyes sparkled with a malicious fun she 
 well knew how to enjoy. 
 
 As Miss Olivia Kennyfeck left the room, her sister approached the 
 fire-place, where a small charred portion of the note thrown down by 
 her father was yet lying. She took it, and walking toward the window 
 examined it carefully. 
 
 And while we leave her thus occupied, let us, for the reader's infor- 
 mation — albeit he may deem the matter trivial — give the contents as 
 Cashel wrote them. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Kennyfeck, — Make my excuses to Mrs. Kennyfeck 
 and the Demoiselles Gary and Olivia, if I deprive them of your society 
 this morning at breakfast, for I shall want your counsel and assistance 
 in the settlement of some difficult affairs. I have been shamefully back- 
 ward in paying my respectful addresses to the ladies of your family ; 
 but to-day, if they will permit, I intend to afford myself that pleasure* 
 It is as a friend, and not as my counsel learned in law, I ask your 
 presence with me in my library at ten o'clock. Till then, 
 
 " Believe me yours, 
 
 " R. C." 
 
 Now, of this very common-place document, a few blackened, crum- 
 pled, frail fragments were all that remained; and these, even to the 
 searching, dark eyes of Miss Kennyfeck, revealed very little. Indeed, 
 had they not been written in Cashel's hand, she would have thrown 
 them away at once, as unworthy of further thought. This fact, and 
 the word " Olivia," which she discovered after much scrutiny, however, 
 excited all her zeal, and she laboured now like an antiquarian, who 
 believes he has gained the clue to some mysterious inscription. She 
 gathered up the two or three filmy black bits of paper which yet lay 
 within the fender, and placing them before her, studied them long and 
 carefully. The word " settlement" was clear as print. 
 
 '• ' Olivia' and * settlement' in the same paper," thought she; *^ what 
 can this mean?" 
 
 " Come here, Mamma — Aunt Fanny — look at this for a moment," 
 said she, eagerly; and the two ladies approached at her bidding. 
 
 2 B 
 
 
370 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " What is that word ?" said she to Mrs. Kennyfeck. <^ Is it not 
 'Olivia?' Don't you see the end of the T has been burned away, 
 but the rest is quite plain ?'' 
 
 " So it is—upon my life ! — and in Cashel's hand, too !" exclaimed 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck. 
 
 " And what is that?" asked Miss Kennyfeck, triumphantly, pointing 
 to another word. 
 
 Aunt Fanny, with her spectacles on, bent down, and examined it 
 long. 
 
 *' * Battlement.' That is * battlement' — as clear as day," said she. 
 
 " What nonsense. Aunt. It is * settlement.' Look at what you call 
 a * b ' — it is an * s.' " 
 
 " Gary's quite right. The word is * settlement,' " said Mrs. Kenny- 
 feck, in a voice tremulous with joy. 
 
 "And there! — I hope you can read," exclaimed Miss Kennyfeck, 
 " even without your spectacles — * paying' — * addresses.' " 
 
 " Show it to me^ Cary," said her mother, eagerly. " I declare I can 
 read it perfectly. Is it possible! — can this be indeed true ?" 
 
 " Of course it is. Ma'am. Will you tell me by what other coinci- 
 dence you could find Olivia's name coupled with the words ' settlement' 
 and * addresses' in the same note?" 
 
 " It is very suspicious, certainly," said Aunt Fanny. 
 
 *•' I think it very convincing, Aunt — not suspicious," said Miss Ken- 
 nyfeck, proudly. " Here is something about * friend,' and another 
 word I can't make out." 
 
 " That's something about a ' saw,' my love," said Aunt Fanny. 
 
 " How absurd, Aunt ; the word is * law.' I have it. See — here is 
 the name — it is the conclusion of the note, and ran, doubtless, thus : — 
 * Your present friend, and future son-in-law, — R. C " 
 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck leaned forward, and kissed her daughter's cheek 
 with a degi'ee of fervour she very rarely gave way to ; and then, laying 
 back in her chair, pressed her handkerchief to her face, while she, 
 doubtless, revelled in a little excursion of fancy, not the less brilliant 
 because tempered with anxiety. 
 
 If the moment was one of maternal ecstasy for Mrs. Kennyfeck, it 
 was no less one of triumphant joy to her daughter. It was she who 
 revealed the secret meaning ; her skill and ingenuity had given light to 
 the dark mystery, and consistency to its incoherence. What domina- 
 tion could be too great for such services ? It was then, like a legitimate 
 sovereign assuming the reins of government, that she said, 
 
 " I beg, Aunt Fanny, that you will not spoil the game this time, as 
 most unquestionably you did before." 
 
A ¥h 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 37l 
 
 " Let US see that there Is one to be spoiled, my dear,'' rejoined Aunt 
 Fanny, snappishly. 
 
 " You are really too provoking, Fanny," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, re- 
 moving her handkerchief from two very red eyelids. You never are 
 satisfied when you see us happy. Cary has shown you enough to con- 
 vince any one — " 
 
 " Any one disposed to conviction. Mamma," broke in Miss Kenny- 
 feck, haughtily. " Hush, here's Olivia." 
 
 " Mr. Meek is reading the Post, Ma," said the young lady, en- 
 tering, " and he has got the other papers in his pocket, but he says 
 there's really nothing of any interest in them." 
 
 " I think Livy should be told, Mamma," w^hispered Mss Kennyfeck 
 to her mother." 
 
 " I quite agree with you, Cary," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, " I never was 
 a friend to any secrecy in families. Your father, indeed, I grieve to 
 say, does not participate in my sentiments, but much may be excused 
 in him, from the habits of his profession, and, I will also say, from the 
 class in life he sprung from." Here Mrs. Kennyfeck, who had spoken 
 like one delivering an oracle, stopped to drop a tear over the sad 
 mesalliance which had condemned her to become the wife of an 
 attorney. " Olivia, my dear, circumstances have disclosed the nature 
 of the interview, which Mr. Kennyfeck would not confide to us. It is 
 one in which you are deeply concerned, my dear. Have you any sus- 
 picion to what I allude ?" 
 
 Olivia assumed her very sweetest look of innocence, but made no 
 reply. 
 
 " Mamma wants you to be candid enough to say, if there is anything 
 in the way of particular attention you may have received lately, which 
 should corroborate the impressions we entertain." 
 
 Miss Kennyfeck delivered these words so categorically, that her sister 
 well knew how, in the event of refusal, a searching cross-examination 
 was reserved for her. 
 
 Olivia looked down, and a very slight embarrassment might be de- 
 tected in the quickened heaving of her chest. 
 
 " Tell us, my darling," said Aunt Fanny, " if — if any one has, in a 
 manner so to say — you understand — eh?" 
 
 " Keep the blushes, Livy, for another time ; they look beautiful with 
 orange flowers in the hair," said her sister; " but be candid with us." 
 
 " If you mean attentions. Mamma." 
 
 " We mean attentions, ' and something more,' as Lord Lyndhurst 
 says," interposed Miss Kennyfeck, who felt that she was the proper 
 person to conduct the inquiry. 
 
 2 B 2 
 
372 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " I cannot positively say, Mamma, that we are engaged, bu« I believe 
 that if you and Pa make no obstacles — if, in fact, you are satisfied that 
 his rank and fortune are sufficient for your expectations, as I own they 
 are, for mine." 
 
 ''What humility!" exclaimed Miss Kennyfeck, holding up her 
 hands. " 
 
 " Hush, Gary — go on, Livy," said her mother. 
 
 " I have no more to say. Mamma. Sir Harvey told me — " 
 
 " Sir Harvey !" cried Mrs. Kennyfeck. 
 
 " Sir Harvey Upton!" echoed Miss Kennyfeck. 
 
 " The man with the hair all over his face !" exclaimed Aunt Fanny, 
 whose western habits had not accustomed her to moustaches. 
 
 Olivia stared from one to the other in mingled fear and astonishment. 
 She suddenly saw that she had been betrayed into a confession to which 
 they did not possess the slightest clue; she also perceived that the 
 tidings, for which she anticipated a most joyous welcome, were received 
 v/ith coldness and almost disdain. 
 
 " He is a Baronet, Mamma, with very great expectations," said she, 
 proudly ; for really, it was a large "bird" to bag, in the beginning of 
 the season, too! 
 
 " Very possibly," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, looking to her elder daughter, 
 with that silent eloquence which the Court occasionally bestows upon 
 the Crown Counsel, meaning to say : — " Have you any tiling to reply 
 to that?" 
 
 " Mamma is aware that Sir Harvey is a Baronet, and a Captain of 
 Hussars, and Jonas Upton of Summerton is his uncle ; who may, or may 
 not, leave him his large estates, — a circumstance, most probably, mainly 
 dependant on the alliance he may form in marriage." 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! my dear," broke in Aunt Fanny ; " and when the old 
 man finds out that 'tis only an Attorney's daughter " 
 
 " Fanny, do you mean to drive me distracted !" screamed Mrs. Kenny- 
 feck ; " are ray children to be taught to be ashamed of their father ?" 
 
 *' 'Tis a lesson they might know by heart, this time of day, my dear," 
 said the inexorable Fanny, who put up her spectacles, and smoothed 
 down her apron, unmistakable signs that she was preparing for battle. 
 
 " You needn't * beat to quarters,' Aunt, as Captain Luttredge says ; 
 there is no one going to fire into you," said Miss Kennyfeck. "The 
 question at present is, how is Olivia to free herself from an unhappy 
 connexion — " 
 
 " An unhappy connexion ?" exclaimed Livy, in amazement. 
 
 " Listen to your sister, and don't interrupt her," said Mrs. Kennyfeck. 
 
 " I spoke advisedly, Livy," resumed the elder, " when I called your 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 373 
 
 connexion with Sir Harvey Upton, unhappy. We have just learned 
 that far higher views are opening to you — that no less a person than Mr. 
 Cashel— " 
 
 " Impossible, Mamma ! he never notices me in the least. Our ac- 
 quaintance is scarcely more than a cold act of recognition when we 
 meet." 
 
 " Though love is hot sometimes, soon it grows cold," muttered Aunt 
 Fanny, who believed she was quoting to the letter. 
 
 " There never was love in the case at all, Aunt," said Olivia. 
 
 "Attend to me, Livy," said her sister, who seemed impatient at this 
 digression. " It is sufficient — it ought at least to be sufficient — for you, 
 that we know Mr, Roland Cashel's intentions. It is for you to esta- 
 blish a coolness with Sir Harvey. There is no difficulty in the task. I 
 could not presume to instruct you in any matter of this kind, nor 
 will I." 
 
 " Take a friend's advice, Livy, dear, and don't throw out dirty water 
 'till you're sure of clean." .ie<:',a^K ui 
 
 *' What Aunt r" asked Olivia, who really was puzzled by the figura- 
 tive eloquence of her relative. 
 
 *' Pshaw !" said Miss Kennyfeck, equally angry at the counsel and 
 the vulgarity of the expression it was couched in. "Livy, attend to 
 yw^," said she again. "Mr. Cashel has sent for Papa this morning to 
 make a formal — hush, here is Pa himself." And Mr. Kennyfeck 's heavy 
 tread was heard approaching the door. 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck's sudden entrance not only closed the discussion, but 
 left the debaters in the difficulty of having no concerted line of conduct, 
 respecting the new arrival; and although Mrs. Kennyfeck's eyebrows 
 were Avorked with a telegraphic activity, and Miss Kennyfeck's panto- 
 mimic replies as promptly returned, it was clear to see that neither 
 comprehended the other. Kanitz lays it down as an axiom that " when 
 two wings of an army are in presence of an enemy, and without means 
 of rapid and certain communication, it is always better to act on the 
 defensive than to attack, without some evident weak point of the adver- 
 sary encourages a forward movement." It is more than probable that 
 neither Mrs. Kennyfeck or her fair daughter had studied the authority 
 in question, yet with a tact quite instinctive they proceeded to act 
 upon it. 
 
 "You are back early, Mr. Kennyfeck," said his wife, with a tone of 
 half indifference. 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck looked at his watch, and said it wanted twenty 
 minutes to twelve. 
 
374 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Has Mr. Linton returned, Pa ?" asked Miss Kennyfeck. 
 
 ** I believe not. I have not heard that he has." 
 
 '*It would be little loss if he never did!" said Aunt Fanny, as she 
 bit the end of an obstinate thread that would not enter the eye of her 
 needle. 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Fanny !" exclaimed Olivia, in a deprecating tone. 
 
 " 'Pen my word, my dear, them's my sentiments — ^whatever yours is." 
 
 " Mr. Cashel certainly thinks differently," said Mrs. Kennyfeck, glad 
 to introduce the name uppermost in all their thoughts. 
 
 ** I think of late there has been something like a coldness between them 
 — you see them very rarely together. Did Mr. Cashel mention his 
 name to you this morning, Mr. Kennyfeck ?" said his wife ; and by this 
 sudden question reveahng that they knew, at least, where he had been, 
 
 "Mere passingly, incidentally," said Mr. Kennyfeck, evidently amazed 
 that his small mystery had been penetrated ; then, after a slight pause, 
 he added, very probably with a sly malice to pique curiosity, — " Mr. 
 Cashel is desirous of Mr. Linton's counsel on a step he meditates 
 taking." 
 
 " Indeed, Sir ; and has he much confidence in Mr. Linton's judg- 
 ment ?" 
 
 " In this instance, it is likely he will foUow the dictates of his own, 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck," said the Attorney, solemnly. 
 
 This fencing was too much for Mrs. Kennyfeck, in whom the Job-Hke 
 element was always at zero. It was an insult, too, to her understanding 
 that Mr. Kennyfeck should skirmish in this fashion with her ; and so 
 drawing herself proudly up, she said : 
 
 " Mr. Kennyfeck, I would wish to ask you, if you have, even upon 
 one single occasion, discovered that my knowledge of the world, my tact, 
 or my intelligence, were inferior to your own ?"^ 
 
 "Never, Madam; I'm sure I never disputed the — " 
 
 " No, Sir, you never dared to contest the fact, though you may have 
 endeavoured to escape from its application. I believe. Sir, the only 
 instance of deficient judgment I can be accused of, you^ at least, ought 
 not to reproach me with ' My family ;' " this was a word Mrs. Kenny- 
 feck used to enunciate with an emphasis that always impressed her 
 husband, very little provocation might possibly have made her say, 
 " Our house." — " My family, indeed, may refuse to forgive me," she 
 stopped, wiped her eyes, and then, with what seemed a heroic victory 
 over her feelings, went on : " But the welfare of my children. Sir, may 
 well be conceived dear to one, who would not league to them the unhappy 
 descent she has herself suffered." 
 
R0LA2sD CASHEL. 375 
 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck paused again. It appeared as though, do what she 
 would, there was no escaping from the theme of her mesalliance when 
 once she had touched it. It was very bird-lime in its adhesiveness. 
 
 " When, therefore, Mr. Kennyfeck, the occasion presents itself of 
 resuming, through my children — for, alas I it is lost to me in my own 
 person, the station I have forfeited, I do think that I should at least be 
 consulted, that my advice should be asked, and my guidance required. 
 Don't you think so too. Sir ?" 
 
 Now of all men living, never was there one more inept to read 
 riddles than poor Mr. Kennyfeck, and while he averred that he perfectly 
 concurred in his wife's opinion, he had not the faintest glimmering of a 
 notion what that opinion implied. 
 
 " Don't you think, Sir, also, it would be better to use a little candour 
 with your family ?" 
 
 " Yes, Pa, we know all about it," said Miss Kennyfeck, nodding sig- 
 nificantly. 
 
 " Aye, indeed, we had it in black and white, that is, if we can call a 
 bit of burnt—" 
 
 "Aunt Fanny, what are you about?" cried Miss Kennyfeck, in a 
 voice of real terror, for she was shocked at the meanness she did not 
 scruple to stoop to. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Kennyfeck," reiterated his wife, "we know all! If, how- 
 ever, you still persist in maintaining that mysterious aspect you have 
 assumed with your family, I must say. Sir, it is perfectly absurd." 
 
 " It is unnecessary too, Papa," cried Miss Kennyfeck. 
 
 "And it's unfair, to that young creature," chimed in Aunt Fanny, with 
 a gesture towards OHvia, who sat, en tableau for injured innocence, 
 next a window. 
 
 Possibly, if any could have read Mr. Kennyfeck's sentiments at that 
 instant, they would have recognised the sufferings of a true martyr. 
 To his own heart, he muttered — 
 
 " This is very hard ; it is being called upon to reply to a case without 
 a copy of the affidavits." 
 
 At length, with a courage that he ^did not believe he was capable of, 
 he said — 
 
 " I am confused, Mrs. Kennyfeck ; I am overwhelmed; I may submit 
 a plea of surprise — that is, I would move the Court, I mean — in fact, I 
 must beg you -^-iU permit me to adjourn this case." 
 
 And with these words, and in an agitation very unusual with him, he 
 hastened from the room. Scarcely had the door closed after him, than 
 he re-opened it, and putting in his head, said— 
 
376 ROLAlfD CASHEL. 
 
 " I should have told you, Mrs. Kennyfeck, that Mr. Cashel intends to 
 pay a visit here to-day." 
 
 And so saying", he shut the door and departed. 
 
 " At last. Sir!" exclaimed Mrs. Kennyfeck, in a voice of exultation; 
 " you have been obliged to confess so much at least; but, rely on it, 
 Girls, your father is acting under Cashel's dictation, or he never would 
 dare to tamper in this manner with me." 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. "*""'" 
 
 Say what you will, good friend, I do persist, 
 I had him " covered," when you shopknyjr wrist. ,, 
 
 The Duel. ' 
 
 In a handsome drawing-room, where the light was judiciously tem- 
 pered by the slight folds of rose-coloured curtains, while the air 
 breathed the faint delicious perfume of some hot-house flowers, sat 
 Olivia Kennyfeck alone. She was most simply, but becomingly dressed 
 and in her hair, worn in smooth bands on either cheek, a little sprig of 
 Greek myrtle, with its bright red berries, was interwoven, which served 
 to show to even greater advantage the dehcate fairness of a skin tinged 
 with the very faintest blush. There was a soft pensive character in 
 her beauty, which seemed to harmonise perfectly with the silent room 
 and its scattered objects of art. The very exclusion of all view ap- 
 peared to add to the effect ; as though suggesting how much of in-door 
 happiness was contained within those four walls ; neither asking for, nor 
 wanting the " wide cold world" without. She was reading — at least 
 she held a book in her hand ; a gorgeously bound little volume it was ; 
 nor did the dark ribbon of velvet fringed with gold, that marked her 
 place, fail to contrast well with the snowy whiteness of the wrist it 
 fell upon. 
 
 Her attitude, as she lay, rather than sat, in a deep arm-chair, was 
 faultless in its grace ; and, even to the tiny foot which rested on a little 
 Blenheim spaniel, as he lay sleeping on the hearth-rug, had a certain 
 air of homelike ease that made the scene a picture, and to a suggestive 
 mind, might have given it a story. And yet, for all the sleepy softness 
 of those half-drooped lids, for all that voluptuous ease of every lineament 
 and limb, the heart within was watchful and waking. Not a sound 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 377 
 
 upon the stairs, not a voice, nor a footstep, that did not make its pulses 
 beat faster and fuller. 
 
 Two o'clock struck, and the great bell rung out, which called the 
 guests to luncheon ; a meal at which Cashel never appeared ; and now 
 Olivia listened to the sounds of merry laughter that floated along the 
 corridors, and faded away in the distance, as group after group passed 
 down stairs, and at last, all was silent again. Where was he? Why 
 did he not come? she asked herself again and again. Her mamma and 
 sister had purposely stayed away from luncheon to receive him ; for so 
 it was arranged, that she herself should first see Cashel alone, and 
 afterwards be joined by the others — and yet he came not! 
 
 The half-hour chimed, and Olivia looked up at the French clock 
 upon the mantelpiece with amazement. Surely there had been more 
 than thirty minutes since she heard it last; and the little Cupid on the 
 top, who, with full- stretched bow and fixed eye, seemed bent on mis- 
 chief — silly fool I — like herself, there was no mark to shoot at! She 
 sighed ; it was not a deep sigh, nor a sad one ; nor was it the weari- 
 some expression of listlessness ; nor was it the tribute paid to some half • 
 called-up memory. It was none of these; though perhaps each entered 
 into it as an ingredient. But what right have we to analyse its mean- 
 ing? or ask how much of hope or fear it contained? what portion of 
 regret for one she was about to desert? — what shame for the faithless- 
 ness ? Aye, w^hat shame ! 
 
 Coquetry is no virtue ; but most certainly it is not the wholesale 
 corrupter some moralists would make it. Miss Olivia Kennyfeck had 
 been taught it from her earliest years. From those pleasant days, 
 when, dressed like some fairy Queen, she descended from the nursery 
 to stand beside Pa's chair on company-days, at dessert, and be stared at, 
 and kissed, and "dear-loved" by some scores of people, whose enthu- 
 siasm for childish beauty had all the warmth that springs from turtle and 
 truffles, iced punch, and Lafitte. She had been taught it by the French 
 governess, who told her to be " aimable." The very dancing-master 
 cried out, " Grace — more grace, if you please, Miss Olivia," at every 
 step of her minuet ; and the riding-master's eternal exhortation Avas, 
 " Sit, as if the whole world was watching you. Miss." 
 
 These teachings go farther and deeper into the heart than we suspect. 
 " The wish to please" — pure and amiable as the feeling can be — lies on 
 the frontier of a dangerous land — the " wish to conquer." That passion 
 once engendered in the heart, no room remains for anyi other. 
 <i To return to Miss Olivia Kennyfeck — for most ungallantly we are 
 forgetting she is alone all this while. — Her education had but one end 
 and object — to obtain a good position by marriage. The precept had 
 
378 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 been instilled into her mind in a thousand different ways, and not only 
 self-interest, but pride, emulation, and vanity, had been enlisted in its 
 support. So constantly was the theme presented to her, such day-by- 
 day discussion of the prizes and blanks drawn by others in the wheel 
 connubial, that she really felt little or no interest in any other topic. 
 
 And yet, with all that misdirection of mind, that perverse insistance 
 on wrong, there was still in her heart a void, a want, that neither 
 vanity or selfishness could fill. It might be, perhaps, to be found out 
 by one who should make it the storehouse of high and generous im- 
 pulses, of ennobling duties and tender affections ; or, just as likely, lie 
 like some fruitful but unknown tract — barren, w^aste, and profitless ! 
 
 Three o'clock came ! And now the house resounded with the buzz of 
 voices and the hurried movement of feet. Carriages and horses, too, 
 assembled before the door, and all the pleasant bustle of those bent on 
 pleasure filled the air. Olivia arose, and screened by the curtain, 
 watched the scene beneath. For the first time she perceived that Lady 
 Kilgoff was in a riding-dress. She stood in the midst of a group before 
 the door, amid which Olivia's eyes peered with restless activity. 
 
 No, Cashel was not there ! She almost said the comforting words 
 aloud, but at the same instant a cry of " Here he is — here he comes 1** 
 broke from those beneath, and every head was turned towards the road 
 to the stables, along which Cashel was seen cantering a snow-white Arab 
 of great beauty. As he came nearer it could be seen that he was seated 
 on a side-saddle, while he managed the well-trained creature with the 
 most graceful address. 
 
 " Are you quite certain I may venture, Mr. Cashel ?" said Lady Kil- 
 goff, as he pulled up in front of her ; " remember that I am neither so 
 fearless or so skilful as our fair Queen beside me, who, I must own, is 
 far more worthy of ' Hassan Bey' than I am." 
 
 " I'll pledge my life on his good conduct," said Roland, springing 
 from his back, " I've ridden him for an hour, and he is gentleness 
 itself." 
 
 " He's over-trained for my fancy," said Miss Meek. "He's like one 
 of the creatures you see in Franconi's, w^alking up a ladder to catch a 
 handkerchief." 
 
 Lady Janet whispered something in her ear, at which she started 
 and smiled, but evidently in ignorance of its meaning. 
 
 " What is that very wicked thing that Lady Janet has just told 
 you?" said LadyaKilgoff, as she advanced to mount her horse. 
 
 " It was apropos to the handkerchief. She said, ' probably you were 
 going to throw yours at Mr. Cashel' — I'm sure I don't know why." 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 379 
 
 Fortunately none but Lady Kilgoff and Cashel heard this speech, but 
 both blushed deeply. 
 
 While this was enacting below, Olivia, who marked every gesture 
 and every look eagerly, could not hear what passed. She could only 
 see the respectful attention bestowe d by Cashel on every wish of his fair 
 guest; how, having seated her, he draped in graceful folds the long 
 velvet habit, in which, and with a white hat and drooping feather, she 
 resembled one of the court of Louis Quinze. 
 
 At last she turned her horse's head, and rode him slowly along before 
 the house, evidently timid and afraid of the high- mettled animal. 
 Cashel, however, walked at his head, and so they stood, while he 
 arranged the curb-chain, exactly beneath the window where Olivia was 
 standing. 
 
 She opened the sash noiselessly, and bending down, listened. 
 
 "I assure you," said Lady Kilgoff, " I'll not continue my ride if you 
 don't come. I have no confidence in these fine gentlemen cavahers, 
 and as for Miss Meek, she'd risk her life, to see me ran away with." 
 
 " I pledge myself to follow in ten minutes— nay, in five, if possible. 
 I told Mr. Kenny feck I should make my obeisances to the ladies to- 
 day." 
 
 " Would to-morrow not serve ?" said she, smiHng. 
 
 " I believe it might — but, a promise ! besides, I have been sadly defi- 
 cient in attentions there." 
 
 " Sir Harvey and his brother hussar have made the amende for 
 your short-comings ; but go, make haste and overtake us. I see ^ my 
 Lord' trying to understand Lady Janet, and I must not delay longer." 
 
 *' Ride slowly," cried Roland, " and don't get run away with, till I'm 
 of the party." 
 
 She nodded archly in reply to this speech, and joining the group 
 who were all awaiting her, rode off, while Cashel re-entered the house, 
 and soon was heard ascending the stairs at a hurried pace. 
 
 Olivia could only close the window and resume her place, when a tap 
 was given at the door, and the same instant Cashel entered the room. 
 He stopped suddenly, and looked around, for at first he did not perceive 
 Olivia, who, deep in her book, affected not to hear the noise of his 
 approach. 
 
 The rich coronet of brown hair, on which an evening sun was throw- 
 ing one brilliant gleam, caught his eye, and he advanced near enough 
 to see and be struck by that graceful attitude of which we gave our 
 reader a glimpse at the opening of this chapter. 
 
380 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 She was reading some old English ballad ; and, as she closed the 
 volume, murmured, half aloud, the lines of the concluding verse : — 
 
 " And ye varlete bounde upon a carte 
 
 Was draggede to ye gallowse high 
 While ye kniglite that stole ye ladye's heart (riiMjii h >■■ 
 
 (And was not his ye gravere parte) ' . ; 
 
 Rode oute to see him die." •'» - i J5 mid ibj 
 
 '^ A sad moral, indeed," said Cashel, in a low, soft voicel^ 
 
 " Oh, dear ! oh, Mr. Cashel !" cried she, starting, and letting fall the 
 book, " how you have terrified me." 
 
 " Pray forgive me," said he, drawing his chair near, " but when I 
 entered the room I saw no one. I had come thus far ere I discovered 
 that I was so fortunate." 
 
 " Shall I ring for Mamma and Gary ; they are dressing, I know, but 
 will be quite annoyed if you go, before they come down." 
 
 " You must not inconvenience them on my account," said Roland, 
 eagerly. " I'm certain," added he, smiling, " you are not afraid to 
 receive me alone." 
 
 She hung down her head, and partly averting it, murmured a scarcely 
 audible « No." 
 
 Cashel, who had evidently never calculated on his careless remark being 
 taken thus seriously, looked silly and uncomfortable for a few seconds. 
 There is a terrible perversity sometimes in our natures; we are disposed 
 to laugh occasionally at times when nothing could be more Ill-titned or 
 unsuitable ; and so, at moments when we would give anything in the 
 world for some common-place theme, to hang phrases on, we cannot, for 
 the life of us, originate one. 
 
 *• You've not ridden out, I think, since you came ?" said Roland, at 
 last, but with an air of utter despair at his OAvn stupidity. 
 
 " No ; we have driven out once or twice ; but — but — " 
 
 " Pray finish," said he, with a persuasive look as he spoke. 
 
 " I was going to say that your horses are so spirited, that I was 
 really afraid to trust myself, and the more so as Miss Meek is so wild 
 and so reckless." 
 
 " Never think of riding with her. Let me be your chaperon — shall 
 we say to-morrow ? I've got the gentlest creature that was ever 
 mounted." 
 
 " Oh, I know her, that sweet white Arab I saw the groom exercising, 
 yesterday?" 
 
 " No ; not her," said Roland blushing and confused, " a spotted barb, 
 fully as handsome — some say handsomer. Will you do me the favour 
 
EOLAJND CASHEL. 381 
 
 to ride her to-morrow, and if she be fortunate enough to please you, to 
 accept her ?" 
 
 Olivia hung down her head full a second, and a deep scarlet covered 
 her cheeks, and rose even to her temples, and it was with a voice broken 
 and interrupted she said, " Oh, I cannot — I must not." Then turning 
 on him a look, where the tearful eyes, swimming in a softened lustre, 
 conveyed a whole story of deep suflfering, she said rapidly, " You 
 are too kind and too good ever to give pain, you are too generous to 
 believe others capable of it ; but were I to accept your beautiful gift — 
 were I even to ride out with you alone, there is nothing that would not 
 be said of me." 
 
 It was Cashel's turn for a slight blush now; and, to do him justice, he 
 felt the sensation a most disagreeable one. It had not indeed occurred 
 to him to make the proposal as the young lady took it, but he was far 
 too long schooled in gallantry to undeceive her, and so he said, " I really 
 cannot see this in the light you do. It is a very natural wish on my 
 part, that I should show my guests whatever my poor grounds afford of 
 the picturesque, and remember, we are not friends of yesterday." This 
 he said in his very kindest tone. 
 
 " I do remember it," said she, with a low but most meaning sigh. 
 
 " That memory is I trust not so associated with sorrow," added he, 
 leaning down, and speaking in a deep earnest voice, " that you recall it 
 with a sigh." 
 
 " Oh, no ; but I was thinking — I must not say of what I was 
 thinking." 
 
 " Nay, but you must," said he, gently, and drawing his chair closer. 
 
 "I dare not — I cannot— besides, you — " and there was on the pro- 
 noun the very softest of all-dwelling intonation, " you might be angry — 
 might never forgive me." 
 
 *• Now I must insist on your telling me," said Roland, passionately, 
 " if but to show how unfairly you judge me." 
 
 " Well," said she, drawing a long breath, " but shall I trust you ?" 
 There was a most winning archness in the way she said this, that thrilled 
 ,through Cashel, as he listened. " No, I will not," added she, suddenly, 
 and as if carried away by a passionate impulse ; " you are too — " 
 
 " Too what ?" cried he, impatiently. 
 
 " Too fickle," said she ; and then, as if terrified at her own boldness, 
 she added, in a tremulous voice, " oh, do forgive me." 
 
 *' There is really nothing to forgive," said Roland, ''unless you persist 
 in keeping from me an avowal that I almost fancy I have a right to ask 
 for ; and now, of what were you thinking ?" 
 
 " I'll tell you," said she, in a low, earnest accent, '' though it may 
 
382 EOLAJTD CASHEL. 
 
 lose me your esteem. I was thinking," her voice here fell so low, that 
 Cashel to hear her words, was obliged to draw his chair closer, and bend 
 down his head till it actually brushed against the leaves she wore in her 
 hair, " I was thinking that, when we knew you first, before you had 
 made acquaintance with others, when you sat and read to us, when we 
 walked and rode together, when, in short, the day was one bright dream 
 of pleasure to us, who had never known a brother " 
 
 Pardon us, dear reader, if at so critical a moment we occupy the 
 pause which here ensued — and there was a pause — by referring to our 
 Aunt Fanny, only premising that we do so advisedly. It was one of 
 that excellent lady's firmest convictions that every one in the world re- 
 quired some discreet friend, who should, at eventful passages in life, be 
 ready, to aid by presence of mind a wavering resolve, or confirm a 
 half- formed determination. Now, she had waited for two mortal hours on 
 that day for Cashel's coming, in a state of impatience, little short of fever. 
 She opened and shut her window, looked up one avenue and down ano- 
 ther ; she had watched on the landing, and stood sentinel on the stairs ; 
 she had seen Mrs. Kennyfeck and her elder daughter pass out into the 
 garden, weary of long waiting, when, at last, she heard Roland's hasty 
 step, as he traversed the hall, and hurrying up-stairs, entered the draw- 
 ing-room. 
 
 Drawm by an attraction, there is no explaining, she left her room, 
 and took up her position in a small boudoir, which adjoined the drawing- 
 room. Here she sat, persuading herself she was at her work ; but, in 
 reality, in a state of suspense, not very inferior to some prisoner, while 
 a jury is deliberating on his fate. 
 
 The conversation, at first conducted in an ordinary tone, had gra- 
 dually subsided, till it dropped into the low, undistinguishable manner 
 we have mentioned. 
 
 Aunt Fanny's inventive mind had suggested every step of the inter- 
 view. She kept muttering to herself — he is explaining himself — she 
 is incredulous — and he tries to re-assure her — she believes that his heart 
 was given to another — he vows and swears it was always hers — she 
 cannot credit the happiness — she is too unworthy. 
 
 It was just as our Aunt had got thus far in her running commentary 
 that both voices ceased, and a stillness, unbroken by a murmer, suc- 
 ceeded. What could it mean ? was the sudden question that flashed 
 across her mind, and Napoleon's own dread anxiety, as he gazed on the 
 wood, and hesitated whether the dark masses emerging from the shade 
 were his own legions or the Prussians, was not much more intense than 
 hers. At last— we are sorry to record it ; but, alas ! Aunt Fanny was 
 
All n t Fa iidjs l^jencdictioi; 
 
EOLAND CASKEL. 383 
 
 only mortal, and an old maid to boot — she approached the door and 
 peeped through the key-hole. The sight which met her eyes needed no 
 second glance ; she saw both heads bent down together, the dark waving 
 hair of Cashel close to the nut-brown silky braids of Olivia. Neither 
 spoke. " It was then concluded." 
 
 This was the moment in which mutual avowals, meeting like two 
 rivers, form one broad and sweeping flood. It was the moment, too, in 
 which, according to her theory, a friend was all essential. According 
 to her phrase, the "nail should be cUnched." 
 
 Now, Aunt Fanny had been cruelly handled by the family, for all 
 the blunders she had committed. Her skill had been impugned ; her 
 shrewdness sneered at; her prognostications derided. Here was an 
 opportunity to refute aU, at once ; and, in the language of the con- 
 queror, " to cover herself with glory." 
 
 Gently opening the door she entered the room, and stealing tip-toe 
 over, till she stood behind their chairs, she placed, with all the solemnity 
 of an Archbishop, a hand on either head ; and, in a voice of touching 
 fervour, said — 
 
 " Bless ye both, my darlings ; may ye be as happy as — " 
 
 As what ? The history is unable to record ; for a shrill cry from her 
 niece, and an exclamation nearly as loud, and we fear far less polite, 
 from Roland, cut short the speech. 
 
 Shriek followed shriek from Olivia, who, partly from the shock, and 
 still more from shame, was thrown into an attack of hysterics. 
 
 " What, the " he was very nigh saying something else. " What 
 
 have you done, Madam?" said Roland, in a state of mingled anger 
 and terror. 
 
 " It's only your Aunt Fanny. It's me, my pet. Livy, darling, don't 
 be frightened, and here, too, is Mr. Cashel." 
 
 In this, however, the good lady was mistaken, for Roland had hastened 
 up-stairs to Mrs. Kennyfeck's room, which finding locked, he flew down 
 to the great drawing-room, thence to the library, and was making for the 
 garden, when he saw that lady and her daughter crossing the hall. 
 
 " I'm afraid. Madam," said he, with all the composure he could sum- 
 mon, " Miss Olivia Kennyfeck is not well ; nothing serious, I trust ; but 
 a sudden fright — a shock — Miss O'Hara somewhat imprudently — " 
 
 " Oh, Fanny again !" screamed Mrs. Kennyfeck, and without waiting 
 for more, rushed up-stairs, followed by her daughter, while Roland, in a 
 state of mind we dare not dwell upon, hastened from the house, and 
 mounting his horse, galloped off into the wood. 
 
 There were times when Cashel would have laughed, and laughed 
 
384 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 heartily, at the absurdity of this adventure. He would have even trea- 
 sured \ip the " tableau" as a thing for future ridicule among his friends ; 
 but his better feelings, bom of a more manly pride, rejected this now ; 
 he was sorry — deeply, sincerely sorry, that one, with so much to fasci- 
 nate and charm about her, could lend herself to a mere game like this ! 
 " Where are these deceptions to end?" said he, in passionate warmth. 
 '' Have candour, good faith, and honesty fled the world ? or, are they 
 only to be found among those whose vices make the foil to such humble 
 virtues ?" 
 
 Nor were these his only painful reflections. He was obliged to see 
 himself — the thing, of all others, he despised — " a Dupe." The mark 
 for every mean artifice and every ignoble scheme. The gambler — the 
 flirt — the adventurer in every walk — regarded him as a prey. Wealth 
 had done this for him — and it had done no more ! None cared for him 
 as a friend or companion. Even as a lover, his addresses were heralded 
 by his gold, not enhanced by qualities of his own. What humiliation ! 
 
 Mary Leicester alone seemed unimpressed by his great fortune, and 
 regardless of his wealth. She alone had never evinced towards him any 
 show of preference above others less endowed by Fate. Nay, he fancied 
 he could trace something of reserve in her manner whenever he stepped 
 by chance out of his character of careless, buoyant youth, and dwelt 
 upon the plans that mere money accomplishes. In these, she showed 
 no interest, and took no pleasure ; while, to the adventures of his for- 
 mer life, she listened with eager attention. It was easy to see she 
 thought more of the Caballero than the Millionnaire. 
 
 What a happiness had it been to have befriended her grandfather and 
 herself ; how diff'erent had been his reflections at this hour ; what 
 lessons in the true wisdom of life might he not have learned from one 
 who had seen the world, not as the play-table for the rolling dice of 
 fortune, but as the battle-ground, where good and evil strive for victory ; 
 where a higher philosophy is taught than the lifeless, soulless dictates 
 of mere fashionable existence ! 
 
ROLAlsD CASHEL. 385 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 But where are they alle, I do not see 
 One half of our goodlie companie ? 
 
 Hone. 
 
 That day was destined to be one of contrarieties to the household 
 of Tubbermore. Of the Kennyfeck family, none appeared at dinner. 
 Lady Kilgoff, angry at Roland's breach of engagement, — for, although 
 he rode at top-speed in every direction, he never overtook her, — also 
 kept her room. The carriage sent for Miss Leicester had returned 
 ■without her, a somewhat formal note of apology stating, that Mr. Cor- 
 rigan was indisposed, and his grand-daughter unwilling to leave him, 
 while Linton, usually a main feature in all the social success of a dinner, 
 was still absent. 
 
 Of the assembled guests, too, few were in their wonted spirits. Sir 
 Andrew and Lady Janet had quarrelled in the morning about the mode 
 of preparing dandelion tea, and kept up the dispute all the day^ 
 Upton, was sidky, dark, and reserved. Meek, more than usually lachry- 
 mose. Frobisher's best mare had been staked in taking a leap, and Miss 
 Meek had never discovered it till half-an-hour after, so that the lame- 
 ness was greatly aggravated. Mrs. White had had a "tiff" with the 
 author, for his not believing the Irish to be of Phoenician origin, and 
 wouldn't speak to him at dinner, so that Cashel himself, constrained,, 
 absent, and ill at ease, found his company anything rather than a relief 
 to his own distracted thoughts. 
 
 Among his other guests he found the same reserve and coldness of 
 manner, so that no sooner had they assembled in the drawing-room, after 
 dinner, than he left the house and set off to inquire for Mr. Corrigan at 
 the cottage. 
 
 " We ,had nine vacant places to-day at table," said Lady Janet, as 
 soon as she had arranged her special table next the fire, with a shade in 
 front and a screen behind her, and was quite satisfied that, in regard to 
 cushions and footstools, she had monopolised the most comfortable in the 
 room. 
 
 " I thought — aw — that we — aw — were somewhat slow," said Captain 
 Jennings, with his habitually tiresome, pompous intonation. 
 
 " What's the matter with Upton ?" said a junior officer of his regi- 
 ment, in a whisper, " he looks so confoundedly put out." 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know," yawned out Lord Charles, " he has a very 
 safe book on the Oaks." 
 
 2 c 
 
ROLAND CASHEL, 
 
 " He's backing Dido at very long odds," interposed Miss Meek, " and 
 she's weak before, they say." 
 
 " Not staked, I hope," said Frobisher, looking maliciously at her. 
 " I don't care what you say, Charley," rejoined she, " I defy any one 
 to know whether a horse goes tender, while galloping in deep ground. 
 You are always unjust." And she moved away in anger. 
 " She is so careless," said Frobisher, listlessly. 
 
 " Tell me about these Kennyfecks. What is it all about?" said Mrs. 
 White, bustling up, as if she was resolved on a long confidence. 
 " They hedged against themselves, I hear," said Frobisher. 
 '' Indeed ! poor things ; and are they much hurt ?" 
 *'Not seriously, I fancy," drawled he. " Lady Janet knows it 
 all." 
 
 Mrs. White did not neglect the suggestion, but at once repaired to 
 that part of the room where Lady Janet was sitting, surrounded by a 
 select circle, eagerly discussing the very question she had asked to be 
 informed upon. 
 
 *^ I had it from Verthinia," said Mrs. Malone, with her peculiar, thick 
 enunciation, " Lady Kilgoff's maid. She said that not a day passes 
 without some such scene between the mother and daughters. Mrs. 
 Kennyfeck had, it seems, forbithen Cashel to call there in her ab- 
 thence." 
 
 " I must most respectfully interrupt you. Madam," said a large old 
 lady, with blonde false hair, and a great deal of rouge, "but the 
 affair was quite different. Miss Olivia, that is the second girl, was de- 
 tected by her aunt, Miss O'Hara, packing up for an elopement." 
 
 *' Fudge," said Lady Janet, " she'd have helped her, if that were the 
 case! I believe the true version of the matter is yet to come out. My 
 woman, Stubbs, saw the apothecary coming down stairs, after bleeding 
 Livy, and called him into her room ; not indeed to speak of this matter,*' 
 here Lady Janet caused her voice to be heard by Sir Andrew, who sat, in 
 moody sulk, right opposite, "it was to ask, if there should not be two 
 pods of capsicum in every pint of dandelion tea.** 
 
 " There may be twa horns o* the De'il in it,** ejaculated Sir Andrew, 
 *' but I'll na pit it to my mouth agen. I hae a throat like the fiery 
 furnace that roasted the three chaps in the Bible." 
 
 "It suits your tongue all the better," m.uttered Lady Janet, and 
 turned round to the others. " Stubbs, as I was saying, called the man in, 
 and after some conversation about the dandelion, asked, in a cursory 
 way, you know, ' how the lady was, up-stairs ?* He shook his head and 
 said nothing." 
 
 " ' It will not be tedious, I hope?' said Stubbs. 
 
o 
 
 
 < 
 
ROLAND CASHEL, 387 
 
 " * These are most uncertain cases,' said he, * sometimes they last a 
 day, sometimes eight or nine/ 
 
 *' * I think you're very mysterious, Doctor,' said Stubbs. 
 
 " He muttered something about honour, and, seizing his hat, went off, 
 as Stubbs says, * as if he was shot.' " 
 
 " Honour !" cried one of the hearers. 
 
 '* Honour !" ejaculated another, with an expression of pure horror. 
 
 *' Didn't he say, Madam," said the blonde old lady, " that it wasn't his 
 branch of the profession ?" 
 
 "Oh ! oh!" broke in the company together, while the younger ladies 
 held up their fans and giggled behind them. 
 
 " I'm thorry for the poor mother 1" sighed Mrs. Malone, who had 
 seven daughters, each uglier than the other. 
 
 " I pity the elder girl," said Lady Janet, " she had a far better tone 
 about her than the rest." 
 
 " And that dear, kind, old creature, the Aunt. It is said that but 
 for her care, this would have happened long ago," said Mrs. Malone. 
 
 " She was, to my thinking, the best of them," echoed the blonde 
 lady; "so discreet, so quiet, and so unobtrusive." 
 
 " What could come of their pretension ?'* said a colonel's widow, 
 with a very large nose and a very small pension, *' they attempted a 
 style of living quite unsuited to them ! The house always full of young 
 men, too." 
 
 "You wouldn't have had them invite old ones. Madam," said Lady 
 Janet, with the air of rebuke the wife of a commander-in-chief can 
 assume to the colonel's relict. 
 
 *' It's a very sad affair, indeed," summed up Mrs. White, who if she 
 hadn't quarrelled with Mr. Howie, would have given him the whole 
 narrative for the " Satanist." 
 
 " What a house to be sure ! There's Lady Kilgoff on one side — " 
 
 *< What of her, my Lady ?" said the blonde. 
 
 " You didn't hear of Lord Kilgoff overtaking her to-day in the wood 
 with Sir Harvey Upton — hush ! or he'll hear us. The poor old man— 
 you know his state of mind — snatched the whip from the coachman, 
 and struck Sir Harvey across the face — they say there's a great welt over 
 the cheek !" 
 
 Mrs. White immediately arose, and, under pretence of looking for a 
 book, made a circuit of the room in that part where Sir Harvey Upton 
 was lounging, with his head on his hand. 
 
 " Quite true," said she, returning to the party, " It is so painful, he 
 can't keep his hand from the spot." 
 
 " Has any one discovered who the strange-looking man was that was 
 
 2c2 
 
388 ROLAl^D CASHEL. 
 
 received by Mr. Cashel this morning in his own study ?" asked the 
 blonde. " My maid said he was for all the world like a sheriff's 
 officer. It seems, too, he was very violent in his language ; and but 
 for Mr. Kennyfeck, he would not have left the house." 
 
 " Too true, I fear, Ma'am," said Mrs. Malone ; " my husband, the 
 Thief" — this was Mrs. Malone's mode of abbreviating and pronouncing 
 the words Chief Justice — " told me it was impothible for Mr. Cashel to 
 continue his extravaganth much longer." 
 
 " It's shameful — it's disgraceful," said Lady Janet, " the kitchen is 
 a scene of waste and recklessness, such as no fortune could stand." 
 
 " Indeed, so the ' Thief said," resumed Mrs. Malone; " he said that 
 robbery went on, at every thide, and that Mr. Phillith, I think his 
 name is, was the worst of all." 
 
 " Your husband was quite correct, Ma'am," said Lady Janet ; " no 
 one should know it better;" and then she whispered in her neighbour's 
 ear, " If the adage be true, ' Set a Thief to catch a Thief.'" 
 
 The party entrusted with this could not restrain her laughter, and 
 for a space, a species of distrust seemed to pervade the circle. 
 
 We are certain that no apology will be required, if we ask of our 
 reader to quit this amiable society — altho' seated at a comfortable fire, 
 in the very easiest of chairs, with the softest carpet beneath their feet— 
 and accompany Roland Cashel, who now, with hasty step, trod the 
 little path that led to Tubberbeg Cottage. 
 
 However inhospitable the confession, we are bound to acknowledge 
 Cashel was growing marvellously weary of his character as a host ! 
 The hundred little contrarieties which daily arose, and which he knew 
 not now to smooth down or conciliate, made him appear, in his own 
 estimation at least, deficient in worldly tact, and left him open to the 
 belief that others would judge him even less mercifully. The unbridled 
 freedom of his household, besides, stimulated all the selfishness of those 
 who, in a better arranged establishment, had kept " watch and ward" 
 over their egotism ; and thus, instead of presenting the features of a society 
 where the elements of agreeabllity were not deficient, they resembled 
 rather the company in a packet-ship, each bent upon securing his own 
 comfort, and only intent how to make his neighbour subsidiary to himself. 
 
 Prosperity, too, was teaching him one of its least gracious lessons — 
 " Distrust." The mean and selfish natures by which he was surrounded 
 were gradually unfolding themselves to his view, and he was ever on the 
 verge of that dangerous frontier where scepticism holds sway. One 
 conclusion — and it was not the least wise — he formed was, that he was 
 ill-suited to such companionship, and that he had been happier, far 
 liappier, on some humble fortune, than as the rich proprietor of a great 
 estate. 
 
 J 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 389 
 
 It was, while thus ruminating, Cashel found himself at the little space 
 which intervened between one front of the cottage and the lake, and was 
 struck by the rapid movement of lights that glanced from window to 
 window, appearing and disappearing at every instant. 
 
 The dread that the old man was taken seriously ill at once came over 
 liim, and he hastened forward in eager anxiety to learn the tidings. 
 Then, suddenly checking himself, he felt reluctant, almost stranger that 
 he was, to obtrude at such a moment. Fearing to advance, and unwil- 
 ling to retire, he stood uncertain and hesitating. 
 
 As he remained thus, the door of the drawing-room, that opened upon 
 the lawn, was flung wide, and Tiernay passed hastily out, saying, in a 
 loud and excited voice, " I will have my own way. I'll see Cashel at 
 once ;" and with these words he issued forth in haste. Scarcely, however, 
 had he gone a dozen paces, than he stopped short, and, clasping his 
 hands firmly together, muttered aloud, " To what end should I seek 
 him? What claim can I pretend — by what right appeal to him?" 
 
 "Every claim and every right," cried Roland, advancing towards 
 him, " if I can only be of any service to you." 
 
 " What ! actually here at this moment !" exclaimed Tiernay. " Come 
 this way with me. Sir ; we must not go into the house just yet ;" and so 
 saying, he passed his arm within Roland's, and led him onward towards 
 the lake. 
 
 *•' Is he ill ?" said Cashel. *' Is Mr. Corrigan taken ill ?" But although 
 the question was asked eagerly, Tiernay was too deeply sunk in his 
 own thoughts to hear it ; while he continued to mutter hurriedly to 
 himself. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" said Roland, at last, losing patience at a pre- 
 occupation that could not be broken in upon. " Is Mr. Corrigan ill?" 
 
 " He is ruined !" said Tiernay, dropping Cashel's arm, and letting fall 
 his own as he spoke, with a gesture of despair. 
 
 " What do you mean? How ?" 
 
 " Ruined ! utterly ruined !" re-echoed Tiernay ; and there was that 
 in his accent and the emotion of his manner that forbade any further 
 questioning. 
 
 " It is not at a moment like this," said the Doctor, " that I can tell 
 you a long tale, where treachery and falsehood on one side, and gene- 
 rosity and manliness on the other, played the game as ever it has been, 
 and ever >\-ill be played, between such antagonists ; — enough, if I say 
 my poor friend became responsible for the debts of a man who, but for 
 his aid, would have had a felon's fate. This fellow, who possesses one 
 terrible means of vengeance, threatens now to use it, if a demand be 
 not compHed with, which Corrigan may leave himself a beggar and yet 
 
390 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 not satisfy. The threat has been held over him for years, and for years 
 he has struggled on, parting, one by one, with every little requirement of 
 his station, and submitting with noble resignation to any and everything 
 to stave off the evil day, but it has come at last." 
 
 " And what is the sum demanded ?" said Cashel, hastily. 
 
 " I cannot tell. There are various bills ; some have been renewed 
 again and again, others are yet current. It is a tangled web, and, in 
 our hopelessness, we never sought to um-avel it !" 
 
 " But the danger is imminent ?" 
 
 " So imminent, that my friend will be arrested to-morrow if bail be 
 not forthcoming. I have not told him this ; I dare not tell him so; but 
 I have made up a story to induce him to leave this to-night." 
 
 " Where for?" cried Roland, anxiously. 
 
 " God knows ! I lose memory as well as judgment in moments like 
 this. I believe I advised Limerick, and thence by ship to some port in 
 England, from which they could reach the Continent." 
 
 " But all this will be unnecessary if I offer myself as security,** 
 said Roland. 
 
 "For a sum of which you know nothing !" muttered Tiernay, sorrow- 
 fully. 
 
 " No matter ; it cannot be, in all likelihood, more than I can meet." 
 
 *' And for one who can never repay !" echoed the Doctor, still more 
 sadly. 
 
 " Who can tell that ?" said Cashel ; " there's many a coinage costlier 
 than ever the Mint fashioned ; he may requite me thus." 
 
 The Doctor started. " You mean — no ! — no 1" cried he, inter- 
 rupting himself, " that were too great good fortune, 1 must tell you, 
 Sir," added he, in a firm voice, "that there is nothing — absolutely 
 nothing — to give you in requital for such aid. My friend's alternative 
 is a prison, or be your debtor for what he cannot pay." 
 
 " I am content, perfectly content," said Roland. " There is no 
 need to say another word on the matter. Do not suffer him to endure 
 any anxiety we can spare him ; tell him at once the thing is done." 
 
 " We must think over this a little," said Tiernay, musing. " Mat 
 is a difficult fellow to deal with ; there must be something which shall 
 give it the semblance of a loan ; he must be made to believe it is only a 
 change of creditors." 
 
 " Could we not arrange it without liis knowledge, while you could 
 affect to have made some settlement which has satisfied the others ?" 
 
 " Too late — too late, for that ; he has seen Hoare himself." 
 
 " Hoare ! — the money-lender from Dublin ?" said Cashel, blushing at 
 the recollection of his own acquaintance with him. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 391 
 
 " Aye, Sir, of course you know him ! A man cannot enjoy such 
 distinguished friendships as you have, without the aid of usurers I" 
 
 Cashel smiled good-humouredly, and went on, 
 
 *' Where is this gentleman at present ?" 
 
 " Yonder," said Tiernay, pointing to the cottage ; " but he intends 
 shortly returning to the Inn at the village, where perhaps it would bs 
 better to meet him than here. If you'll permit me, I'll just step in and 
 say as much, and then we can stroll that way together." 
 
 Cashel consented, and his companion left him to do his errand. It 
 was only as he stood alone, and had time for reflection, that he remem- 
 bered his conversation with Kennyfeck in the morning, and learned that, 
 with regard to ready money at least, he stood in a very different posi- 
 tion from what he supposed. That there would be difficulties and legal 
 obstacles innumerable made by Kennyfeck to any sale of property, he 
 well knew ; but he had made up his mind as to his course, and would 
 not be thwarted. He had but space for these reflections, when Tiernay 
 joined him, saying, 
 
 " So far all is well. Hoare will follow us in a few minutes, and, for 
 privacy sake, I have made the rendezvous at my house." 
 
 " And Corrigan — how have you left him ?" asked Cashel. 
 
 " Like one in a dream. He seems neither to know whether it be 
 misfortune or the opposite which impends him. Were it not for Mary, 
 his poor heart had given way long since. Aye, Sir, there is more true 
 heroism in one day of that humble life, than in the boldest deed of 
 bravery even you have ever witnessed." 
 
 Cashel did not speak, but, in the pressure of his arm against Tier- 
 nay's, the other felt how the theme had touched him. 
 
 " You only know her by the graceful elegance of her manner, and 
 the fascinations that, even to old men like myself, are a kind of sorcery; 
 but I have seen her in every trial, where temper and mind, and heart 
 and pride, are tested, and come through all victorious; draining the very 
 wells of her own hopefulness to feed the exhausted fountain which age 
 and disappointment had dried up ; lending to manhood a courage 
 greater than his own ; aye, and more — showing that her temper could 
 resist the jarring influences of misfortune, and, like the bright moon 
 above the storm-lashed clouds, soar on, glorious and lustrous ever. 
 What are men made of?" cried he, energetically; "of what stuff are 
 they formed, when such a girl as this can excite more admiration for her 
 beauty, than for traits of character that ennoble humanity ?" 
 
 " You speak with all a lover's warmth. Doctor,'* said Cashel, half 
 smiling, while, in reality, the subject interested him deeply. 
 
 " And why not, Sir ? I do love her, and with an affection that only 
 
392 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 such beings inspire. It is creatures like her that redeem years of 
 disappointment and worldly disgust. It is in watching the single- 
 heartedness of that young girl that I, an old man, hacknied and 
 hardened as I am, become trustful and hopeful of others. Love her ! 
 — to be sure I love her. And so would you, if the poor fopperies amid 
 which you live but left you one moment free to think and feel as your 
 own head and heart would lead you. I hope you take no heed of my 
 rude speech. Sir," said he, hastily; "but it is the fault of my craft to 
 believe that sweet things are only ^ Placebos,' given but to earn the 
 fee and amuse the patient." 
 
 " I thank you for it," said Cashel, pressing his hand ; " few have 
 ever cared to tell me truths." 
 
 " Say, rather, few have cared to resign their influence over you by 
 showing they knew your weak points. Now, I have too deep an interest 
 in 1/ou, and too slight a regard for any profit your acquaintance can 
 render myself, to be swayed by this. You don't know — you cannot 
 know — what a charm there is to an old fellow like myself, whose humble 
 fortunes limit to a life of mere routine — to think that he has an oppor- 
 tunity of counselling one in your station — to feel that he has sown the 
 .seed of some good principle, that one day or other will bear its fruit. 
 Yes, years hence, when you have forgotten the old village Doctor — or 
 if by chance remember him, only to recall his vulgarity or eccentricity 
 — I will be an anxious watcher over you, flattering myself to think that 
 I have had some share in instilling the precepts by which you are 
 winning good men's esteem. These thoughts are poor men's treasures, 
 but he that feels them, would not barter them for gold." 
 
 " 1 have long wished for such a counsellor," said Cashel, fervently. 
 
 *^ The advice will not be the less stringent that it comes when you 
 are heart-sick of frivolity," said Tiernay. " What could your fine 
 company up yonder teach you ? Such of them as are above mere folly 
 trade in vice. I have seen them all since they have assembled here, and 
 I am no mean physiognomist, and there is but one among them de- 
 serving of better than the poor heartless life they're leading." 
 
 *' I can guess whom you mean," said Roland, half pleased and half 
 fearful . 
 
 " Well, she indeed would merit a better lot ; and yet I would she 
 were gone." 
 
 " Why so ? Do you grudge us even a passing * gleam of virtue's 
 brightness ?' " 
 
 " She is more dangerous than the veriest coquette that ever lured a 
 man to ruin. It is in such as her, where noble qualities have run to waste, 
 where generous sentiments and pure affections have been blighted by the 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 393 
 
 cold chill of a world that fosters not such gifts, the peril is ever greatest ; 
 for her sake and for yours, I would she were gone." 
 
 As they spoke thus, they had reached the wide esplanade in front of 
 the great house, from the windows of which lights were gleaming, while 
 sounds of festivity and pleasure floated on the night air. 
 
 Tiernay halted for a second, and then said, " Who could believe 
 that the owner of that princely mansion, filled as it is with pleasure- 
 loving guests, and every adjunct that can promote enjoyment, should 
 leave it, to wander on foot with a poor old village Doctor, whose only 
 merit is to utter unpalatable truths !" 
 
 " And be happier while doing so ! add that, my worthy friend," 
 said Cashel, pressing the arm that he held within his own. 
 
 " Come along, Sir ; this dalliance is pleasanter to me than to you. I 
 begin to feel that I may have done you good, and you should be a 
 Doctor to know the full ecstasy of that feeling. Let us now move on, or 
 this man will be before us ;" and so saying, they moved briskly forward 
 towards the village of Drunkeeran. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 The debts we make by plighted vows, 
 Bear heaviest interest, ever I 
 
 IIaywood. 
 
 The Doctor's little parlour was the very " ideal" of snugness ; there 
 was nothing which had the faintest resemblance to luxury save the deep 
 cushioned arm-chair, into which he pressed Cashel at entering, but there 
 were a hundred objects that told of home. The book-shelves, no mean 
 indication of the owner's " trempe," were filled with a mixture of works 
 on medicine, the older English dramatists, and that class of writers who 
 prevailed in the days of Steele and Addison. There was a microscope 
 on one table, with a great bunch of fresh plucked fern beside it. A chess- 
 board, with an unfinished game — a problem from a newspaper, for he had 
 no antagonist — stood on another table ; while full in front of the fire, 
 and with an air that betokened no mean self-importance, sat a large 
 black cat, with a red leather collar, the very genius of domesticity. As 
 Cashel's eyes took a hasty survey of the room, they rested on a picture — 
 it was the only one there — which hung over the mantel -piece. It was a 
 portrait of Mary Leicester, and although a mere water-colour sketch, an 
 excellent likeness, and most characteristic in air and attitude. 
 
394 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Aye !" said Tiernay, who caught the direction of his glance, " a birth- 
 day present to me ! She had promised to dine with me, but the day, 
 lilie most Irish days, when one prays for sunshine, rained torrents; 
 and so she sent me that sketch, with a note, a merry bit of doggrel verse, 
 whose merit Hes in its local allusions to a hundred little things, and 
 people only known to ourselves ; but for this^ I'd be guilty of breach of 
 faith and show it to you." 
 
 " Is the drawing, too, by her own hand ?" 
 
 "Yes; she is a clever artist, and might, it is said by competent 
 judges, have attained high excellence as a painter, had she pursued the 
 study. I remember an illustration of the fact worth mentioning. 
 Carringford, the well-known miniature painter, who was making a tour 
 of this country a couple of years back, passed some days at the cottage, 
 and made a picture of Old Mat Corrlgan, for which, I may remark 
 passingly, poor Mary paid all her little pocket-money, some twenty 
 guineas, saved up from heaven knows how long. Mat did not know 
 this of course, and believed the portrait was a compliment to his grand- 
 daughter. Carringford's ability is well known, and there is no need to 
 say the picture was admirably painted ; but still it wanted character ; it 
 had not the playful ease, the gentle, indulgent pleasantry that marks 
 my old friend's features ; in fact, it was hard and cold, not warm, gene- 
 rous, and genial ; so I thought, and so Mary thought, and accordingly, 
 scarcely had the artist taken his leave, when she set to work herself, and 
 made a portrait, which, if inferior as a work of art, was infinitely su- 
 perior as a likeness. It was Mat himself ; it had the very sparkle of 
 his mild blue eye, the mingled glance of drollery and softness, the 
 slightly curled mouth, as though some quaint conceit was lingering on 
 the lip ! all his own. Mary's picture hung on one side of the chimney, 
 and Carringford's at the other, and so they stood when the painter came 
 through, from Limerick, and passed one night at Tubberbeg, on his way 
 to Dublin . I breakfasted there that morning, and I remember, on entering 
 the room, I was surprised to see the frame of Carringford's portrait 
 empty, and a bank-note, carefully folded, stuck in the corner. ' What 
 does that mean ?' said I to him, for we were alone at the time. 
 
 " * It means simply that my picture cannot stand such competitorship 
 as ihat,^ said he ; ' mine was a miniature, that is the man himself.' I 
 wUl not say one half of the flatteries he uttered, but I have heard from 
 others since, that he speaks of this picture as a production of high 
 merit. Dear girl ! that meagre sketch may soon have a sadder interest 
 connected with it ; it may be all that I shall possess of her ! Yes, Mr. 
 Cashel, your generosity may stave off the pressure of one peril, but there 
 is another, from which nothing but flight will rescue my poor friend." 
 
ROLAND CASHEt, 395 
 
 A sharp knocking at the door here interrupted the Doctor's recital, 
 and soon Hoare's voice was heard without, inquiring if Dr. Tiernay 
 was at home ? 
 
 Hoare's easy familiarity, as he entered, seemed to suffer a slight shock 
 on observing Roland Cashel, who received him with cold politeness. 
 
 Tiernay, who saw at once that business alone would relieve the awk- 
 wardness of the scene, briefly informed the other that Mr. Cashel was 
 there to learn the exact amount and circumstance of Corrigan's liabilities, 
 with a view to a final settlement of them. 
 
 *'Very pleasing intelligence this. Doctor," said the money-lender, 
 rubbing his hands, " and, I am free to own, very surprising also ! Am I 
 to enter into an explanation of the peculiar causes of these liabilities, 
 Doctor? or to suppose," said he, 'that Mr. Cashel is already conversant 
 with them?" 
 
 " You are to suppose. Sir," interposed Cashel, " that Mr. Cashel is 
 aware of every circumstance, upon which he does not ask you for further 
 information." There was a sternness in the way he spoke that abashed 
 the other, who, opening a huge pocket-book on the table, proceeded to 
 scan its contents with diligence ; while Tiernay, whose agitation was 
 great, sat watching him without speaking. 
 
 " The transactions," said Hoare, " date from some years back, as these 
 bills will show, and consist, for the most part, in drafts, at various dates, 
 by Mr. Leicester, of South Bank, New Orleans, on Matthew Corrigan, 
 Esq., of Tubbermore. Some of these have been duly honoured; indeed, 
 at first, Mr. Corrigan was punctuality itself; but bad seasons, distress 
 at home here, greater demands, the consequence of some commercial 
 losses sustained by Mr. Leicester in the States, all coming together, 
 the bills were not met as usual; renewals were given — and, when it 
 comes to that, Mr. Cashel, I need scarcely say difficulties travel by 
 special train." No one joined in the little laugh by which Mr. Hoare 
 welcomed his own attempt at pleasantry, and he went on. " At first we 
 managed tolerably well. Mr. Corrigan devoted a portion of his income 
 to liquidate these claims ; he made certain sales of property ; he reduced 
 his establishment ; in fact, I believe, he really made every sacrifice con- 
 sistent with his position — " 
 
 " No, Sir," broke in Tiernay, "but consistent with bare subsistence." 
 
 The violent tone of the interruption startled the money-lender, who 
 hastened to concur with the sentiment, while he faltered out — 
 
 " Remember, gentlemen, I speak only from hearsay ; of myself I 
 know nothing." 
 
 " Go on with your statement, Sir," said Cashel, peremptorily. 
 
 " My statement," said Hoare, provoked at the tone assumed towards 
 him, resolves itself into a debt of three thousand seven hundred and 
 
396 . JIOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 forty-eight pounds some odd shillings. There are the bills. The sums 
 due for interest and commission are noted down, and will, I believe, be 
 found duly correct." 
 
 "Three thousand seven hundred pounds in less than five years!'* 
 ejaculated Tiernay. " What iniquity !" 
 
 " If your expression is intended to apply to anything in the conduct 
 of this transaction, Sir," said Hoare, growing pale with passion as he 
 spoke, '' I beg you to remember that there is such a thing in the land 
 as redress for libel." 
 
 " If the laws will warrant sixty per cent., they may well punish the 
 man who calls it infamy," said Tiernay, almost choking with anger." 
 
 " That will do, gentlemen, that will do," said Hoare, replacing the 
 bills in the pocket-book, while his fingers trembled with passion. " I 
 was not aware that your object in this meeting was to insult me. Fll 
 not expose myself a second time to such a casualty. I'll thank you to 
 hand me that bill, Sir ?" This request was addressed to Cashel, who, 
 with his eyes ri vetted on a document which he held in both hands, sat 
 perfectly unmindful of all around him. 
 
 " If you will have the kindness to give me that bill, Sir ?" said Hoare, 
 again. 
 
 " Shylock wants his bond," said Tiernay, who walked up and down 
 the room with clenched hands, and brows knitted into one deep furrow. 
 
 Hoare turned a scowling glance towards him, but not trusting him- 
 self to reply, merely repeated his question to Cashel. 
 
 " How came you by this ?" cried Roland, rising from the table, and 
 holding out a written paper towards Hoare. 
 
 " I ask, Sir, how came you by this ?" reiterated he, while the paper 
 shook with the hand that held it. 
 
 *' Oh ! I perceive," said Hoare, " that document has no concern with 
 the case before us ; it refers to another and very different transaction." 
 
 " This is no answer to my question, Sir," said Cashel, sternly ; " I 
 asked, and I ask you again, how it came into your hands ?" 
 
 " Don't you think, Sir, that it would be more appropriate to express 
 your regret at having examined a paper not intended to have been 
 submitted to you?" said Hoare, in atone half insolent, half deferential. 
 
 " I saw my name upon it," said Cashel ; " coupled, too, with that of 
 another, of whom I preserve too many memories to treat anything 
 lightly wherein he bears a part ; besides, there can be but little indiscre- 
 tion in reading that to which I had attached my own signature. And 
 now, once more, Sir, how do I see it in your possession?" 
 
 " Really, Mr. Cashel, when the question is put in this tone and man- 
 ner, 1 am nmch disposed to refuse an answer. I can see nothing in 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 39t 
 
 our relative situations that can warrant tlie assumption of these airs 
 towards me." 
 
 '' Shy lock, again I" exclaimed Tiernay, who continued to pace the 
 room during this scene with hasty strides. 
 
 "Not so, Sir!" said Cashel, as Hoare moved towards the door, 
 against which, Roland now placing a chair, sat down. "Out of this 
 room you shall not stir, till I hear a distinct and clear account of the 
 circumstances by which I find you in possession of this paper." 
 
 " You have no right. Sir, to demand such an answer." 
 
 " Possibly not, legally speaking," said Cashel, whose voice became 
 calmer and deeper as his passion increased. " You are more conver- 
 sant with law than I am, and so I take it that your opinion is correct. 
 But I have the right which a good conscience and strong will beget, 
 and I tell you again, you'll not leave this room before you satisfy me, 
 or you'll not leave it living." 
 
 " I call you to witness. Doctor Tiernay," said Hoare, whose accents 
 trembled with fear and anger together, " that this is a case of false 
 imprisonment — that a threat against my life has been uttered, if I do 
 not surrender the possession of certain papers." 
 
 " Nothing of the kind," broke in Tiernay ; " there is no thought of 
 taking anything from you by force. Mr. Roland Cashel — doubtless for 
 good reasons of his own — has asked you a question, which you, demur- 
 ring to answer, he ^lls you that you. shall not leave the room till 
 
 YOU do " iy<ii> t'3 i:Oird'jU[r rilii bojiiS'.; 
 
 " And do you fancy. Sir, that such conduct is legal ?" cried Hoare. 
 
 " I cannot say," rejoined Tiernay ; *' but that it is far more mild and 
 merciful than I could have expected under the circumstances, I am 
 perfectly ready to aver." 
 
 " May I read the paper out?" said Hoare, with a malicious scowl 
 at Cashel. 
 
 *• There is no need that you should, Sir," said Roland ; " its contents 
 are known to me, whom alone they concern." 
 
 " You can, I opine, have no objection that your friend Doctor Tier- 
 nay should hear them ?" 
 
 " I repeat. Sir, that with the contents of that paper, neither you nor 
 any one else has any concern •, they relate to me, and to me alone.'* 
 
 " Then I must labour under some misapprehension," said Hoare, 
 affectedly ; " I had fancied there was another person at least equally 
 interested." 
 
 "Will you dare, Sir!" said Roland; and in the thick guttural 
 utterance there was that which made the other tremble with fear. 
 
 "If the matter be one, then," said he, rallying into his former 
 
398 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 assurance, "that you deem best kept secret, it would be perhaps a 
 judicious preliminary to any conversation on the subject, that Doctor 
 Tiernay should withdraw." 
 
 " I only await Mr. Cashel's pleasure," said Tiernay, moving towards 
 the door. 
 
 " Then you will remain. Sir," said Roland, firmly. '• Remain, and 
 listen to what this gentleman has so menacingly alluded. Here it is ; 
 it is the promise, given under my hand, that I will espouse the daughter 
 of a certain Don Pedro Rica, to whom, in the date herein annexed, I 
 have been this day betrothed; or, in forfeiture of such pledge, pay 
 down the sum of seventy thousand dollars, thereby obtaining a full 
 release from the conditions of the contract. It was the rash pledge of 
 a young and thoughtless boy, with regard to one who neither accepted 
 his affection nor acknowledged the contract. I do not say this to 
 absolve myself from the forfeiture, which I am ready to acquit this 
 hour. I speak of it, that, as a man of honour, I may not seem to pay a 
 debt of feeling by a check on my banker." 
 
 " But this betrothal," said Tiernay ; " what does it imply ?" 
 
 "It is a ceremony common enough in Old Spain and her once 
 Colonies, and is simply the public recognition of a private promise of 
 marriage." 
 
 *' You have forgotten two circumstances, Sir," said Hoare, whose 
 eyes never quitted Cashel's face. 
 
 " Which are they ? " 
 
 ** One is, that this contract should be either fulfilled, or the forfeit 
 paid, within two years; twenty-one months of which have already 
 expired." 
 
 " True ! and the other condition ?" 
 
 " That the acceptance or refusal of the forfeit is optional with 
 Don Pedro, who may, at his pleasure, select which clause he likes; the 
 marriage or the penalty." 
 
 *' I never acknowledged this interpretation of the document," said 
 Cashal, reddening. " I know Don Pedro did, and there, we were at 
 issue ! Methinks it were somewhat hard to compel a marriage dis- 
 tasteful to both parties, and only to suit the speculations of a ruined 
 adventurer." 
 
 " I hope, Sir, the likelihood of future relationship will moderate the 
 warmth of your language." 
 
 *' And is the man fool enough to fancy such a promise could be 
 legally enforced in this country ?" said Tiernay. 
 
 *' He is not without the opinion of learned counsel," said Hoare, 
 who are strongly of opinion that the interpretations Colombian law 
 
KOLiLND CASHEL. 399 
 
 would put upon the document would be recognised by our own 
 Courts, and recognise the marriage, as sueh." 
 
 " And does he, or do you, suppose," said Cashel, indignantly, " that 
 I could expose her name, were I indifferent about my own, to be ban- 
 died about your assize courts, and printed in newspapers, and made the 
 gossip of the town for a nine-days' wonder ?" He stopped, for he saw 
 by the elation of Hoare's features, with what triumph this avowal had 
 been listened to. *' And now. Sir, enough has been said of this — I 
 come back to my former question — How came you by this paper?'* 
 
 " I received it from Don Pedro, with whom I have had much business 
 intercourse, and who left it in my hands a few days back." 
 
 '' Then he is in the country?" said Cashel, anxiously. 
 
 Hoare nodded an assent. 
 
 '' Here, in Ireland ! and is Mari " He stopped suddenly, re- 
 membering to whom he w^as speaking ; but Hoare, as if eager to show 
 an intimacy with names and events, said— 
 
 " Yes, Sir, she is also here." 
 
 Cashel became silent ; his mind, a very chaos of confused thought; 
 memories of his buccaneer life — its lawless habits — its wild companion- 
 ship — ^its adventures of love and war — of play — of heroism — and of 
 mad debauch. The Villa and Maritana were before him as last he saw 
 her at the fountain ; and from these he came to his fine and lordly friend- 
 ships, with all their fictitious warmth ; and he began to fancy how would 
 his present society — the very guests at that moment beneath his roof — 
 receive or recognise his old associates. 
 
 The deep pre- occupation of his look suggested to Tiemay'smind the 
 notion that Cashel was overwhelmed by the intelligence he had just 
 received, and drawing close to him, he said, in a whisper, 
 
 " That fellow is watching and enjoying your confusion ; put a bolder 
 face on the matter, and we'll see what is best to be done." 
 
 Roland started, and then, as if by an effort chasing away an un- 
 pleasant thought, he said to Hoare, 
 
 " Our first business is Mr. Corrigan's. The sum due is—" 
 
 " Three thousand seven hundred and forty I" 
 
 « Will you accept my bill for this ?" 
 
 " At what date. Sir ?" said Hoare, cautiously. 
 
 " At whatever date you please ; a month, or a week." 
 
 <' A month be it." 
 
 " Does that release Mr. Corrigan from every claim so far as your 
 principal is concerned?" 
 
 « All, up to this date." 
 
 " By which, probably, you would imply, that new liabilities may 
 begin again. Is that so ?" 
 
400 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " I think, from the nature of Mr. Leicester's claim, such an event is 
 not impossible." 
 
 " Never mind the threat," whispered Tiernay. " It is but a threat." 
 
 "As to the other affair," said Cashel, approaching Hoare, " I will 
 accompany you to town. I will see Don Pedro myself." 
 
 " That will be difficult, Sir. I am not at liberty to mention his place 
 of abode; nor does he wish his presence here to be known." 
 
 '•' But to W2e," said Cashel, " this objection cannot apply." 
 
 " His orders are positive, and without qualification ; but any proposition 
 which you desire to submit " 
 
 " Can come through Mr. Hoare ?" said Cashel, sneeringly. " I prefer 
 doing these things in person, Sir." 
 
 " Leave this to me," whispered Tiernay ; " I'll manage him better.'* 
 
 Cashel squeezed his friend's arm in assent, and turned away ; while 
 Hoare, re- seating himself, proceeded to draw out the bill for Cashel's 
 signature. 
 
 " You are aware," said Tiernay, " that Corrigan can give you nothing 
 but personal security for this sum, and the lease of Tubberbeg ?" But 
 Cashel did not heed the remark, deep as he was in his own reflections. 
 
 " There is a small sum, a few thousand pounds, of Mary's, settled at her 
 mother's marriage. You are not attending to me," said he, perceiving 
 the pre-occupation of Roland's look. 
 
 " I was mentioning that Mary Leicester — yes," said Cashel, talking 
 his thoughts aloud, " to marry her would, indeed, be the true solution of 
 the difficulty." 
 
 "What did you say?" whispered Tiernay, upon whose ear the 
 muttered words fell distinctly. 
 
 " She would refuse me," Roland went on ; " the more certainly that 
 I am rich. I know her well; the rank, the station, the thousand flatteries 
 that wealth bestows, would be things for her mockery if unallied with 
 power." 
 
 " You are wrong, quite wrong," said Tiernay ; " her ambition is of a 
 diff*erent order. Mary Leicester — ' 
 
 " Mary Leicester !" echoed Cashel ; and, in his suddenly awakened 
 look, Tiernay at once perceived that some mistake had occurred. Hoare 
 relieved the awkwardness of the moment as he said, 
 
 " This wants but your signature, Sir, and the matter Is finished." 
 
 Cashel wrote his name on the bill and was turning away, when 
 Hoare said, 
 
 " These are the bills, they are now your property, Sir.'* 
 
 " For what purpose ?'* 
 
 " They are vouchers for your claim on Mr. Corrigan," said Hoare^ 
 
HOLAl^D CASHEL. 401 
 
 *' His word will suffice," said Cashel ; and gathering them up, he 
 hurled them into the fire. 
 
 " A costly blaze that," said Hoare, as he watched the conflagration. 
 
 " Speak to him, Doctor ; learn what you can of Rica for me ; if 
 money will do it, I'll not quarrel with the price," said Cashel to Tiernay, 
 in a low tone. " Another point — I was nigh forgetting it — you'll not 
 tell Mr. Corrigan how the matter has been arranged. Promise me this. 
 Nay, I have a reason for it — a reason you shall hear to-morrow or next 
 day, and will acknowledge to be good. Keep my secret for a month ; I 
 ask no longer." 
 
 " For a month, then, I am silent," said Tiernay. - 
 
 *' Let me see you to-morrow early," said Cashel. *' Will you break- 
 fast with me?" 
 
 "No ; I'll not risk my character by going twice to your grand 
 house in the same week ; besides, I am going to Limerick." 
 
 " Good night, then," said Cashel ; " Good night, Sir." And with a 
 formal bow to Hoare, Roland left the room, and took his way home- 
 ward alone. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVin. 
 
 The Devil's back-parlour; a bachelor's room! 
 
 MiLYARD. 
 
 While Cashel continued his way homeward a very joyous party had 
 assembled in Lord Charles Frobisher's room, who were endeavouring, 
 by the united merits of cigars, ecarte, hazard, and an excellent supper, 
 of which they partook at intervals, to compensate themselves for the 
 unusual dulness of the drawing-room. It is well known how often the 
 least entertaining individuals in general society become the most loqua- 
 cious members of a party assembled in this fashion. The restraints 
 which had held them in check before are no longer present. Their 
 loud speech and empty laughter are not any longer under ban, and they 
 are tolerated by better men, pretty much as children are endured, because 
 at least they are natural. 
 
 At a round table in the middle of the room were a group engaged at 
 hazard. Upton was deep in ecarte with his brother officer Jennings, 
 while Frobisher lounged about, sipping weak negus, and making his 
 bets at either table as fancy or fortune suggested. The supper-table had 
 few votaries ; none, indeed, were seated at it save Meek, who, with a 
 newspaper on his knee, seemed singularly out of place in the noisy 
 gathering. 
 
 2d 
 
402 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Eleven's the nick, eleven ! I say, Charley, have at you for a pony," 
 called out a boyish-looking Dragoon, from the middle table. 
 
 " You're under age, young gentleman," said Frobisher ; <* I can't 
 afford to bet with you. Wait a moment, Upton, I'll back you this 
 time. Twenty sovereigns, will you have it ?" 
 
 " Done !" said Jennings, and the game began. 
 
 " The King,'* cried Upton, " I propose." 
 
 " To which of them?" said a sharp-looking Infantry Captain, behind 
 his chair. 
 
 " Olivia, of course," slipped in Jennings. 
 
 " I'd give fifty pounds to know if they have the money, people say," 
 cried Upton. 
 
 " Meek can tell you — 7ie knows everything. I say, Dudley,'* said 
 Jennings, " come here for a moment and enlighten us on a most inter- 
 esting point." 
 
 " Oh, dear ! what is it ? This room is so very cold. Don't you think, 
 Frobisher, that a double door would be advisable ?" 
 
 *' A green one, with a centre pane of glass, would make it devilish 
 like a * hell,' " said Upton; upon which the company all laughed ap- 
 provingly. 
 
 " What is it you want ?" said Meek, approaching, glass in hand. 
 
 " Play out the game, and have your gossip afterwards," said Frobisher, 
 who felt far more anxious about the fate of his twenty pounds than for 
 the result of the conversation. 
 
 *-' A Queen of Hearts," said Upton, leading ; then turning to Meek, 
 said, " These Kennyfeck girls — can you tell what the figure is ?" 
 
 "Poor dear things," said Meek, piteously; "they should be very 
 well off." 
 
 *' I score two !" said Upton. " Well, have they twenty thousand 
 each?" 
 
 " I should say more. Oh, dear me ! they must have more ! Kenny- 
 feck holds a heavy mortgage on Kilgoff 's estate, and has a great deal of 
 other property." 
 
 " Then it would be a good thing, Meek, eh?" said Jennings. 
 
 " Game !" cried Upton, showing his cards upon the table. 
 
 " There is so much chaffing about girls and their fortunes, one can't 
 play his game here," said Frobisher, as he threw down a handful of gold 
 on the board. 
 
 " Who was it ordered the post-horses for to-morrow ?" said a youth 
 at the supper- table. " The Mac Farlines ?" 
 
 "No; Lord KilgoflF." 
 
 " I assure you," cried a third, " it was the Kennyfecks. There has been 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 403 
 
 a * flare-up ' about money between Casbel and him, and It is said he'll 
 lose the agency. Who'll get it, I wonder ?'^ 
 
 " Tom Linton, of course," said the former speaker. " I'd wager he 
 is gone off to Dublin to furbish up securities, or something of that 
 kind." 
 
 ** Who'd give Tom trust, or go bail for him ?" said Frobisher. 
 A very general laugh did not sound like a contradiction of the 
 sentiment. 
 
 " I heard a week ago," said the Cornet, " that Kllgoff would stand 
 security to any amount for him." 
 
 " Ah, that comes of my Lady's good opinion of him !" cried Jen- 
 nings. 
 
 " Nay, don't say that, it looks so Ill-natured," sighed Meek ; " and 
 there is really nothing in it. You know she and Tom were old friends. 
 Oh, dear, it was so sad !" 
 
 " Where does Cashel get such execrable Champagne !" said an Infantry 
 man, with a very wry expression of face. 
 
 " It's dry wine, that's all," said Frobisher, "and about the best ever 
 imported." 
 
 " We'd be very'sorry to drink it at our mess, my Lord, I know that," 
 said the other, evidently nettled at the correction. 
 " Yours is the fifty-third?" said a Guardsman. 
 "No; the thirty-fifth." 
 
 " Aw ! same thing," sighed he, and he stooped to select a cigar. 
 " I wish the Kennyfecks were not going," said Upton, drawing his 
 chair closer to Meek's; " there are so few houses one meets them at." 
 " You should speak to Linton about it," whispered Meek. 
 " Here's Jem's health — hip, hip, hurra ! " cried out a white moustached 
 boy, who had joined a Hussar regiment a few weeks before, and was now 
 excessively tipsy. 
 
 The laughter at this toast was increased by Meek's holding out his 
 glass to be filled as he asked, " Of course — whose health is it ?" 
 ** One of Frobisher 's trainers," said Upton, readily. 
 "No, it's no such thing," hiccupped the Hussar. "I was proposing a 
 bumper to the lightest snaffle-hand from this to Doncaster — the best 
 judge of a fine of country in the kingdom — " 
 
 " That's me," said a jolly voice, and at the same Instant the door was 
 flung wide, and Tom Linton, splashed from the road, and travel-stained, 
 entered. 
 
 " I must say, gentlemen, you are no churls of your wit and plea- 
 santry, for, as I came up the stairs, I could hear every word yon were 
 saying." 
 
 2 D 2 
 
404 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 *' Oh dear, how dreadful ! and we were talking of you^ too," said 
 Meek, with a piteous air, that made every one laugh. 
 
 A thousand questions as to where he had been — ^w^hom with — and what 
 for ? all burst upon Linton, who only escaped importunity by declaring 
 that he was half dead with hunger, and would answer nothing till he had 
 eaten. 
 
 " So," said he, at length, after having devoted twenty minutes to a 
 grouse pie of most cunning architecture, " you never guessed where I 
 had been ?" 
 
 " Oh ! we had guesses enough, if that served any purpose.'* 
 
 " I thought it was a bolt, Tom," said Upton, " but as she appeared 
 at breakfast, as usual, I saw my mistake." 
 
 " Meek heard that you had gone over to Downing-street to ask for 
 the Irish Secretaryship," said Jennings. 
 
 *' I said you had been to have a talk with Scott about * Regulator ;' 
 Was I far off the mark ?'' 
 
 " Mrs. White suggested an Uncle's death," said Frobisher ; '^ but 
 Uncles don't die now-a-days." 
 
 " Did you buy the colt ? Have you backed * Runjeet Singh ?' Are 
 you to have the agency ? How goes on the borough canvass ?" and 
 twenty similar queries now poured in on him. 
 
 " Well, I see," cried he, laughing, " I shall sadly disappoint all the 
 calculations founded on my shrewdness and dexterity, for the whole 
 object of my journey was to secure a wardrobe for our fancy ball, 
 which I suddenly heard of, as being at Limerick ; and so not trusting 
 the mission to another, I started off myself, and here I am, with materials 
 for more Turks, Monks, Sailors, Watchmen, Greeks, Jugglers, and 
 Tyrolese, than ever travelled in anything save a caravan with one 
 horse." 
 
 " Are our theatrical intentions all abandoned ?" cried Jennings. 
 
 *'I trust not," said Linton; "but I heard that Miss Meek had de- 
 cided on the ball to come off first." 
 
 " Hip I hip ! hip !" was moaned out, in very lachrymose tone, from a 
 sofa where the boy Hussar, very sick and very tipsy, lay stretched on 
 his back. 
 
 ** Who is that yonder?" asked Linton. 
 
 " A young fellow of ours," said Jennings, indolently. 
 
 *' I thought they made their heads better at Sandhurst." 
 
 " They used in my time," said Upton ; " but you have no idea bow 
 the thing has gone down." 
 
 " Quite true," chimed in another ; " and I don*t think we've seen the 
 worst of it yet. Do you know they talk of an examination for all can- 
 didates for commissions I" 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 405 
 
 " Well, I must say," lisped the Guardsman, " I believe it would be 
 an improvement for the * Line.' " 
 
 "The Household Brigade can dispense with information," said an 
 Infantry Captain. 
 
 " I demur to the system altogether," said Linton. " Physicians tell 
 us that the intellectual development is always made at the expense of 
 the physical, and as one of the duties of a British army is to suffer 
 yellow fever in the West Indies and cholera in the East, I vote for 
 leaving them strong in constitution and intact in strength, as vacant 
 heads and thoughtless skulls can make them." 
 
 "Oh, dear me! yes," sighed Meek, who, by one of his mock con- 
 currences, effectually blinded the less astute portion of the audience 
 from seeing Linton's impertinence. 
 
 " What has been doing here in my absence?" said Linton ; " have you 
 no event worth recording for me?" 
 
 " There is a story," said Upton, " that Cashel and Kennyfeck have 
 quarrelled— - a serious ruptiu-e, they say, and not to be repaired." 
 
 " How did it originate ? — Something about the management of the 
 property ?" 
 
 " No, no — it was a row among the women. They laid some scheme 
 for making Cashel propose for one of the girls." 
 
 " Not Olivia, I hope ?" said Upton, as he lighted a new cigar. 
 
 " I rather suspect it was," interposed another. 
 
 " In any case, Linton," cried Jennings, " you are to be the gainer, 
 for the rumour says, Cashel will give you the agency, with his house to 
 live in, and a very jolly thing to spend, while he goes abroad to travel." 
 
 " If this news be true, Tom," said Frobisher, " I'll quarter my 
 yearlings on you; there is a capital run for young horses in those flats 
 along the river." 
 
 " The house is cold at this season," said Meek, with a sad smile; " but 
 I think it would be very endurable in the autumn months. I shouldn't 
 say but you may see us here again at that time." 
 
 " I hope ' ours' may be quartered at Limerick," said an Infantry man, 
 with a most suggestive look at the comforts of the apartment, which 
 Were a pleasing, contrast to barrack-room accommodation. 
 
 " Make yourselves perfectly at home here, gentlemen, when that 
 good time comes," said Linton, with one of his careless laughs ; " I tell 
 you frankly, that if Cashel does make me such a proposal — a step which, 
 from his knowledge of my indolent, lazy habits, is far from likely — I 
 only accept on one condition." 
 
 " What is that ?" cried out a dozen voices. 
 
 " That you all come and pass your next Christmas here." 
 
406 ROLAND CASHEI,. 
 
 " Agreed — agreed," was chorussed on every side. 
 
 " I suspect, from that bit of spontaneous hospitality," whispered 
 Frobisher to Meek, " that the event is something below doubtful." 
 
 Meek nodded. 
 
 " What is Charley saying ?" cried Linton, whose quick eye caught 
 the glance interchanged between the two. 
 
 " I was telling Meek," said Frobisher, " that I don't put faith enough 
 in the condition to accept the invitation." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Linton, while he turned to the table and filled his 
 glass, to hide a passing sign of mortification. 
 
 " Tom Linton, for a man's agent, seems pretty like what old Frederick 
 used to call, keeping a Goat for a Gardner." 
 
 " You are fond of giving the odds, Frobisher," said Linton, who, for 
 some minutes, continued to take glass after glass of champagne ; "now, 
 what's your bet that I don't do the honours here next Christmas-day ?'* 
 
 *' I can't say what you mean," said Frobisher, languidly. " I've 
 seen you do * the honours ' at more than one table where you were the 
 guest." 
 
 " This, I suppose, is meant for a pleasantry, my Lord ?" said Linton, 
 while his face became flushed with passion. 
 
 " It is meant for fact," said Frobisher, with a steady coolness in his 
 air and accent. 
 
 " A fact ! and not in jest, then !" said he, approaching where the 
 other sat, and speaking in a low voice. 
 
 " That's very quarrelsome wine, that dry Champagne," said Fro- 
 bisher, lazily ; " don't drink any more of it." 
 
 Linton tried to smile ; the effort, at first not very successful, became 
 easier after a moment, and it was with a resumption of his old manner, 
 he said — 
 
 *' I'll take your two to one in fifties, that I act the host here this day 
 twelvemonth." 
 
 " You hear that oflPer, gentlemen ?" said Frobisher, addressing the 
 party. " Of course it is meant without any reservation, and so I 
 take it." 
 
 He produced a betting-book as he said this, and began to write in it 
 with his pencil. 
 
 *' Would you prefer it in hundreds ?" said Linton. 
 
 Frobisher nodded an assent. 
 
 " Or shall we do the thing sportingly, and say two thousand to one ?* 
 continued he. 
 
 " Two thousand to one be it," said Frobisher, while the least pos- 
 sible smile might be detected on his usually immovable features. " There 
 
Qu 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 407 
 
 is no knowing how to word this bet/' said he, at last, after two or three 
 efforts, followed by as many erasures ; " you must write it yourself." 
 
 Linton took the pencil, and wrote rapidly for a few seconds. 
 
 "Will that do?" said he. 
 
 And Frobisher read to himself — " Mr. Linton, two thousand to one 
 with Lord C. Frobisher, that he, T. L., on the anniversary of this day, 
 shall preside as master of the house Tubbermore, by due right and title, 
 and not by any favour, grace, or sanction of any one whatsoever." 
 
 " Yes ; that will do, perfectly," said Frobisher, as he closed the book, 
 and restored it to his pocket. 
 
 " Was the champagne so strong as you suspected ?" whispered Upton, 
 as he passed behind Frobisher's chair. 
 
 A very knowing nod of acquiescence was the only reply. 
 
 Indeed, it did not require the practised shrewdness of Lord Charles, 
 or his similarly sharp-eyed friends, to see that Linton's manner was 
 very different from his habitual calm collectedness, while he continued 
 to drink on, with the air of a man that was resolved on burying his 
 faculties in the excitement of wine. 
 
 Meek slipped away soon after, and, at Linton's suggestion, a rouge- 
 et-noir bank was formed, at which the play became high, and his own 
 losses very considerable. 
 
 It was already daylight, and the servants were stirring in the house 
 ere the party broke up. 
 
 " Master Tom has had a squeeze to-night," said Jennings, as he was 
 bidding Upton good-bye at his door. 
 
 " I can't understand it at all," replied the other. '•' He played with- 
 out judgment, and betted rashly on every side. It was far more like 
 Roland Cashel than Tom Linton." 
 
 " Well, you remember he said — to be sure, it was after drinking 
 a quantity of wine, ' Master Roland and I may change characters yet. 
 Let us see if he can play, " Linton" as well as I can, " Cashel." ' " 
 
 " He's so deep, that I wouldn't say but there is sometliing under all 
 this," and so they parted, sadly puzzled what interpretation to put on 
 conduct, the mere result of a passing intemperance ; for so it is, "your 
 cunning men" are never reputed to be so deep by the world as when by- 
 some accident they have forgotten their craft. 
 
408 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 With a bright lie upon his hook, 
 
 He played mankind, as anglers play a fish. 
 
 COTTEK. 
 
 An hour's sleep and a cold bath restored Linton to himself, and ere 
 the guests of Tubbermore were stirring-, he was up and ready for the 
 day. He dressed with more than usual care, and having ordered a 
 horse to be saddled and a groom to follow him, he sauntered out into 
 the Park, taking the road that led to the village. 
 
 The groom rapidly overtook him ; and then, mounting, he rode at a 
 brisk trot down the road, and drew up at the door of the Doctor's house. 
 To his question, " if Mr. Tiernay were at home ?" he received for 
 answer, that " he had set out for Limerick that morning," nor did the 
 servant know when he might be expected back. 
 
 For a moment this intelligence appeared to derange his plans, but he 
 rallied soon, and turning his horse's head towards Tubbermore, muttered 
 to himself, — " As well — perhaps better as it is." He rode fast till he 
 gained the wood, and then dismounting, he gave the horse to the groom, 
 with directions to go home, as he would return on foot. 
 
 He stood looking after the horses as they retired, and it seemed as if 
 his thoughts were following them, so intent was his gaze ; but, long 
 after they had disappeared, he remained standing in the same place, his 
 features still wearing the same expression of highly- wrought occupation. 
 The spot where he stood was a little eminence, from which the view 
 stretched, upon one side, over the waving woods of the demesne ; and on 
 the other, showed glimpses of the Shannon, as, in its sweeping curves, it 
 indented the margin of the grounds. Perhaps, not another point could 
 be found which displayed so happily the extent and importance of the 
 demesne, and yet concealed so well whatever detracted from its pic- 
 turesque effect. The neighbouring village of Derraheeny — a poor 
 straggling, ruinous street of thatched hovels, like most Irish villages- 
 was altogether hidden from view, while of the great house itself, an 
 object with few pretensions to architectural elegance, only so much was 
 visible as indicated its size and extent. The little cottage of Tubberbeg, 
 however, could be seen entire, glittering in the morning's sun like a 
 gem ; its bright-leaved hollies and dark laurels forming a little grove of 
 foliage in the midst of winter's barrenness. 
 
 If this was by far the most striking object of the picture, it was not 
 that which attracted most of Linton's attention. On the contrary, his 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 409 
 
 eye ranged more willingly over the wide woods which stretched for miles 
 along the river's side, and rose and fell in many a gentle undulation in- 
 land. A common-place observer, had such been there to mark him, 
 would have pronounced him one passionately devoted to scenery ; a man 
 who loved to watch the passing cloud- shadows of a landscape, enjoying 
 with all a painter's delight the varying tints, the graceful lines, the 
 sharp-thrown shadows, and the brilliant lights of a woodland picture ; a 
 deeper physiognomist would, however, have seen that the stern stare, 
 and the compressed lip, the intense pre -occupation which every feature 
 exhibited, did not denote a mind bent upon such themes. 
 
 " Tom Linton, of Tubbermore," said he, at length — and it seemed as 
 if uttering the words gave relief to his overburdened faculties, for his 
 face relaxed, and his habitual, easy smile returned to his mouth — 
 '* Linton of Tubbermore ; it sounds well, too." 
 
 " And then the great game ! that game for which I have pined so 
 long and wished so ardently — which I have stood by and seen others 
 play and lose, where I could have won — aye, won rank, honour, station, 
 and fame. The heaviest curse that lies on men like me is to watch 
 those who rise to eminence in the world and know their utter shal- 
 lowness and incapacity. There will soon be an end to that now. 
 Stand by, gentlemen ; make way, my Lords Charles and Harry ; it is 
 Tom Linton's turn — not Linton the ' Adventurer,' as you were gracious 
 enough to call him — not the bear-leader of a Marquis, or the hanger-on 
 of his Grace the Duke, but your equal in rank and fortune — more than 
 your equal in other things ; the man who knows you all thoroughly, 
 not fancying your deficiencies and speculating on your short-comings, as 
 your vulgar adversaries, your men of cotton constituencies, are wont to 
 do, but the man who has seen you in your elab and your drawing-room, 
 who has eat, drank, betted, played, and lived with you all ! who knows 
 your tactics well, and can expound your * aristocratic prejudices better 
 than ever a Quaker of them all!' — Not but," said he, after a pause, 
 "another line would satisfy me equally. The Peerage, with such a 
 fortune as this, is no inordinate ambition; a few years in the House, of 
 that dogged, unmanageable conduct Englishmen call independence — a 
 capriciousness in voting — the repute of refusing office, and so on. 
 There's no originality in the thought, but it succeeds as well as if there 
 were ! Besides, if hard pressed, I can be a Romanist, and, as times go, 
 with every party ; that is a strong claim. And why not. Lord Linton ? 
 I have no doubt" (and he laughed as he spoke this) " there is a Peerage 
 in the family already, if I only knew where to look for it ! 
 
 " And now, sufficient of speculation ! to open the campaign !" So 
 saying, he descended the knoll, and took the path which led to the 
 
410 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 cottage. As he drew near the wicket, he saw a man lounging beside 
 it, in all that careless indifFerence which an Irish peasant can assume, 
 and soon perceived it was Dan Keane, the gate-keeper. 
 
 " Good morrow, Dan; how comes it you are up here so early?" 
 
 *' 'Tis in throuble I am, your honour," said he, taking off his hat, and 
 putting on that supplicating look so characteristic on his class. " The 
 master's going to turn me out of the little place beyant " 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 *' For nothing at all, your honour : that's just it ; but ould Kennyfeck 
 put him up to it." 
 
 " Up to what ? That seems the whole question." 
 
 *' Your honour may remimber, that when you came here first, the cattle 
 of the neighbours was used to come and pick a mouthful of grass — and 
 poor grass it was — bekase there was no way of keeping them out. Well, 
 when the master came down, and all the people, by coorse, the cows and 
 pigs couldn't be let in as afore; for, as the Agint said, it was a disgrace 
 to see them under the nose of the quality, running about as if it was 
 Donnybrook fair ! ' Don't let them appear here again, Dan Keane, 
 says he, ' or it will be worse for you.' And sorra one ever I let in since 
 that, till it was dark night. But ould Mr. Kennyfeck, the other evening, 
 takes it into his head to walk into the park, and comes right into a 
 crowd of two-year-old buUs, and didn't know a bit where he was, 'till a 
 man called out, ' Lie down on your face, for the love of the Virgin, or 
 you are a dead man. The bullsheens is comin' ! ' And down he lay 
 sure enough, and hard work they had to get him up afterwards, for 
 the herd went over him, as the man drov' them off* ; and what between 
 bruises and fear, he kept his bed two days ; but the worst of it was, the 
 spalpeens said that they paid three-pence a piece for the bullsheens 
 every night for the grass, and it was to me they gave it." 
 
 " Which, of course, was untrue ?" said Linton, smiling knowingly. 
 
 "By coorse it was!" said Dan, with a laugh, whose meaning there 
 was no mistaking ; " and so, I'm to be turned out of * the gate,' and to 
 lose my few acres of ground, and be thrun on the wide world, just for 
 sake of an attorney !" 
 
 " It is very hard — very hard indeed." 
 
 " Isn't it now, your honour ?" 
 
 " A case of destitution, completely ; what the newspapers call ' ex- 
 termination.' " 
 
 " Exactly, Sir — tamination, and nothing less." 
 
 " But how comes it that you are up here, on that account ?" 
 
 " I was thinking. Sir, if I saw Miss Mary, and could get her to spake 
 a word to the master — they say she can do what she plazes with him." 
 
EOLAIfD CASHEL. 411 
 
 " Indeed ! — who says so ?" 
 
 " The servants' hall says it ; and so does Mr. Corrigan's ould butler. 
 He towld me the other day that he hoped he'd be claning the plate up 
 at the big house before he died." 
 
 *' How so ?" said Linton, affecting not to catch the intention of the 
 remark. 
 
 " Just that he was to be butler at the hall when the master was 
 married to Miss Mary." 
 
 " And so, I suppose, that this is very hkely to happen ?" 
 
 " Sure yer honour knows betther than ignorant craytures like us ; 
 but faix, if walking about in the moonlight there, among the flowers, 
 and talking together like whisperin,' is any sign, I wouldn't wonder if it 
 came about." 
 
 " Indeed ! and they have got that far ?" 
 
 " Aye, faith !" said Dan, with a significance of look only an Irish- 
 man or an Italian can call up. 
 
 " Well, I had no suspicion of this," said Linton, with a frankness 
 meant to invite further confidence. 
 
 " An' why would yer honour? Sure, wasn't it always on the evenings 
 when the company was all together in the great house that Mr. Cashel 
 used to steal down here and tie his horse to the wicket, and then gallop 
 back again at full speed, so that the servants towld me he was never 
 missed out of the room. 
 
 "And does she like him — do they say she likes him ?" 
 
 " Not like him wid a place such as this !" said Dan, waving his hand 
 towards the wide-spreading fields and woods of the demesne, " Bather- 
 shin ! sure the Queen of England might be proud of it!" 
 
 "Very true," said Linton, affecting to be struck by the shrewdness of 
 the speaker. 
 
 " See now," said Dan, who began to feel a certain importance 
 from being listened to, " I know faymales well, and so I ought ! 
 but take the nicest, quietest, and most innocent one among them, and 
 by my conscience ye'll see, 'tis money and money's worth she cares for 
 more nor the best man that ever stepped ! Tell her 'tis silk she'll be 
 "wearin', and goold in her ears, and ye may be as ould and ugly as Tim 
 Hogan at the cross-roods !" 
 
 " You haven't a good opinion of the fair sex, Daniel," said Linton, 
 carelessly, for he was far less interested in his speculations than his facts. 
 *' Well, as to your own case, — ^leave that in my hands. I may not have 
 all the influence of Miss Leicester, but I suspect that I can do what 
 you want on this occasion," and without waiting for the profuse ex- 
 
412 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 presslons of his gratitude, Llntbn passed on and entered the garden, 
 through which a little path led directly to the door of the cottage. 
 
 " At breakfast, I suppose ?" said Linton to the servant who received 
 him. 
 
 " The master is, Sir ; but Miss Mary isn't well this morning." 
 
 " Nothing of consequence, I hope V 
 
 " Only a headache from fatigue, Sir." So saying, he ushered Linton, 
 whose visits were admitted on the most intimate footing, into the room 
 where Mr. Corrigan sat by himself at the breakfast-table. 
 
 " Alone, Sir !" said Linton, as he closed the door behind him, and 
 conveying in his look an air of surprise and alarm. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Linton, almost the only time I remember to have been so 
 for many a year. My poor child has had a night of some anxiety, 
 which, although bearing well at the time, has exacted its penalty at 
 last in a slight attack of fever. It will, I trust, pass over in a few 
 hours ; and you — where have you been — they said you had been absent 
 for a day or two ?" 
 
 " A very short ramble. Sir — one of business rather than pleasure. 
 I learned suddenly — by a newspaper paragraph, too — that a distant 
 relative of my mother's had died in the East, leaving a considerable 
 amount of property to myself; and so, setting out, I arrived at Limerick, 
 intending to sail for Liverpool, when, who should I meet, almost the first 
 person I saw, but my agent, just come in haste from London, to confer 
 with me on the subject. 
 
 "The meeting was so far agreeable, that it saved me a journey I had 
 no fancy for, and also put me in possession of the desired information 
 regarding the property. My agent, speaking of course from imperfect 
 knowledge, calls it a large — what a man like myself would style — a 
 very large fortune." 
 
 " I give you joy, with all my heart," cried Corrigan, grasping his 
 hand in both his, and shaking it cordially. " When wealth descends to 
 men who have shown their ability to maintain an honourable station 
 without it, the chances are greatly in favour of its being nobly and 
 generously employed." 
 
 " How I hope that I may not disgrace your theory," said Linton, 
 " fox I am not ashamed to assert that I have fulfilled the first condition 
 of the category. With little else but good birth and a fair education, 
 I had to start in the race against others with every aid of fortune, and if 
 I have not reached a more elevated position, I can say that the obstacle 
 lay rather in my own scruples than my incapacity. I declined Parlia- 
 mentary life because I would not be a nominee ; I had a glancing sus- 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 413 
 
 picion that my time would come, too, when, without other check upon 
 my motives than the voice of conscience, I should stand in the British 
 Senate a free and independent member. If I have waited patiently for 
 this hour, I hope I have not abused the leisure interval, and that I may 
 bring to the public service something beside the zeal of one who feels 
 the importance of his trust." 
 
 " There is no failure with intentions pure and honourable as these," 
 said Corrigan, warmly. " It does not need your talents, Mr. Linton, to 
 msure success in such a path ; one-half oi your ability, so nobly backed, 
 would reach the goal. And now tell me, if I be not indiscreet in asking 
 some of your plans, what place do you mean to stand for ?" 
 
 " Our good borough of Derraheeny," said Linton, half-smiling. " I 
 am in a measure committed to continue my canvass there, and, indeed, 
 have already entered into securities to keep my pledge. I see these 
 words sound a little mysteriously, but I intend to explain them ; only I 
 must ask one favour of you. I hope, before I leave the room, to show 
 that I have, if not a claim upon your generosity, at least a plea to 
 warrant my request. My entreaty is this, that you will never divulge 
 to any one what I shall now tell you." 
 
 " Pray, my dear friend, consider for a moment what you are asking. 
 Why make me the depositary of a secret ? An old man, whose very 
 years are like * fissures in the strong keep,* where mysteries should be 
 impiisoned." 
 
 *' Could I participate in your reasonings, my dear Sir, there is yet 
 enough in the present instance to make It an exception. This is a 
 matter you ought to know for your sake, and to keep secret for 77ii?ie.'' 
 
 " Then you have my promise," said Corrigan, frankly. 
 
 " I'll be brief with my explanation," said Linton. *' When there was 
 a design, some time back, of my accepting the representation of the 
 borough, Cashel offered me this property of Tubberbeg, on tej'ms which 
 very nearly approached a gift. This— though at the time our relations 
 were those of the closest friendship — I refused, but as I had made some 
 progress in my canvass of the borough, there was a difficulty in aban- 
 doning the position, and so the matter hung, each hoping that the 
 other would suggest some arrangement that might satisfy both. This 
 fortunate device, however, was not to be discovered, and as, for some 
 time back, our intercourse had become gradually less intimate, the chance 
 of such a solution diminished daily. 
 
 " In this way the affair stood, when, a couple of mornings since, I felt 
 it my duty, as one who really felt an interest in him, to remonstrate with 
 Roland on a circumstance which, without any affectation of prudery, 
 
414 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 would have gravely compromised himself, and, worse still, another person. 
 It was a case — I know not exactly how to touch upon a matter of such 
 delicacy — enough if I say it were one, where a persistence in his conduct 
 must have ended in disgrace to him, ruin and misery to another. Poor 
 thing! she is, indeed, to be pitied; and if there be extenuation for such 
 cases, hers is one to claim it. I knew her as Laura Gardner, the hand- 
 somest creature I ever beheld. Well, well, it is a theme I must not 
 linger on. Cashel, so far from receiving my counsel, as I hoped, and in- 
 deed expected, resented it with anger and rudeness, and even questioned 
 the degree of intimacy on which I presumed to give my unasked advice. 
 
 " I am fortunately a man of cool temper, and so I bore this unge- 
 nerous return better than most others might, and seeing that it would 
 possibly be the last occasion I should ever have of giving even unwilling 
 counsel, I spoke to him freely and openly. I told him that his mode of 
 living, while derogatory to the hopes conceived of him, was one that must 
 end at last in ruin ; that no fortune could stand his losses at play, and 
 the wasteful Extravagance of his caprices. I pressed the matter as strongly 
 as I was able, and represented that his habits bore no reference whatever 
 to his income. 
 
 " 'It is quite true,' said he, with a sneering tone; ' I cannot readily 
 forget I am chargeable with all these wasteful ways you speak of, nor 
 do I feel that I make any the slightest defence of myself, in regard to 
 habits, where my generosity has been as lavish as it has been ill-be- 
 stowed.' 
 
 " ' I wish I knew if I understand you aright ?' said I. 
 
 " * Your comprehension is of the quickest where there is question of a 
 favour to be received.' 
 
 " I did not trust myself with any answer to this speech, which I well 
 knew was a trait of his old buccaneer life. I withdrew, and hastening 
 to his law- agent, Kenny feck, I at once arranged for the purchase of this 
 small property. The moment for me was propitious. They were in 
 want of ready money, and the treaty was completed the same day. 
 There is the title." 
 
 As he spoke he threw down the parchment deed upon the table, and 
 lay back in his chair, watching with intense delight the expression of 
 sadness and disappointment on Corrigan's features. 
 
 " Good heavens 1" exclaimed the old man, at last ; " how deceived I 
 have been in him !'* 
 
 " I confess that is what wounds me most in the whole transaction," 
 said Linton, with a mock emotion in his manner. " One is well 
 accustomed through life to meet sordid motives in mere men of the 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 415 
 
 world, and who deem their low-born subtilty, cleverness ; but to find 
 a young fellow, beginning life with an ample fortune and a fair position, 
 surrounded by all the blandishments that wealth charms up — ^" 
 
 " Hold !" cried Corrigan, laying his hand on Linton's arm ; *' I cannot 
 bear this. It is not at my age, Sir, that disappointments like these can 
 be borne easily. I have too short a time before me here, to hope to 
 recover from such shocks." 
 
 " I would not willingly give you pain, my dear Sir ; nor, indeed, is 
 this the topic on which I am most anxious to address you. Another 
 and a very different interest led me hither this morning ; and, although 
 I have thought long and maturely on the subject, i am as far as ever 
 from knowing how to approach it. My own un worthiness to what I 
 aspire recoils upon me at every instant; and nothing but the indulgent 
 kindness with which you have always regarded me could give me 
 courage. Forgive me this prolixity ; I am like one who fears to plunge, 
 lest he should never rise again." 
 
 " If my estimate of you be correct," said the old man, laying his 
 hand upon Linton's, '* the goal must needs be high to which you dare 
 not aspire." 
 
 " It is, indeed, so !" cried Linton, as if carried away by an irresistible 
 emotion. " To me it means station, hope, worldly success, happiness, — 
 aye, life itself. I cannot longer tamper with your feelings, or my own. 
 The ambition of which I speak, is to be your son ; not alone in the 
 affectionate love which already I bear you, but by the closest and dearest 
 ties, to be bound to you in the same chain by which she is, who owns 
 all my heart and all my destiny." 
 
 He stopped as if overcome ; and Corrigan, compassionating the agita- 
 tion he seemed to suffer, said, 
 
 *' Be calm, my dear friend ; this takes me by surprise. I was not in 
 any way prepared for such an announcement ; nor have I courage to 
 look at its consequences ; poor, old, companionless as I should be — " 
 
 ** Nay, such cruelty was not in my thoughts. It was with far other 
 intentions I became possessed of the property. It was in the glorious 
 hope that it would be our home — ^yours and mine together ; not to 
 render your heart desolate, but to give it anotiier guest, whose duty 
 would be his title to be there." 
 
 " Let me think, — let me reflect on this, — let me separate my own 
 selfish thoughts from the higher ones that should guide me. You have 
 not spoken to my daughter ?" 
 
 ** No, Sir ; I deemed the more honourable course to have your 
 sanction ; or, if not that, to bury my sorrows in silence for ever." 
 
416 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " There is so much to consider, and I am so weak and infirm, so 
 inadequate to decide. Your proposal is a proud one for any girl, I 
 know it ; and we are proud, although poor. Aye, Mr. Linton, poor to 
 very necessity ! If her affections were engaged by you, if I saw that 
 your high qualities had made the impression upon her that they have 
 on me, I own this offer would delight me ; but can you say this is the 
 
 case r 
 
 ?" 
 
 " I hope, Sir, I am not indifferent to Miss Leicester. The humble 
 fortune which has restrained me hitherto, and prevented my prosecuting 
 an attachment to which I felt I had no claim, exist no longer. I am 
 independent in means, as in opinion; and, however conscious of my 
 personal unworthlness, in all that regards station and condition, I'm in a 
 position to satisfy you. I only ask your sanction to address Miss 
 Leicester, to know, in fact, that if I should prove acceptable to Aer, that 
 you will not look unfavourably upon me ?" 
 
 " This appears most candid and fair on your part ; and it is a time 
 when we must both use candour and fairness. Now, Mr. Linton, there 
 are circumstances which at this moment involve rae in considerable 
 difficulty ; I cannot enter into them just yet ; but they may offer grave 
 obstacles to what you propose. I will, therefore, beg of you not to 
 press me for my answer. I see this delay is displeasing — " 
 
 " Nay, Sir, I am ready to yield to anything you suggest j but is it 
 not possible that my assistance and advice might be of service in these 
 difficulties you speak of?" 
 
 " There is another point, Mr. Linton ; and I know you will think 
 better of me for all my frankness. Are your friends — your family I 
 mean— aware of this step of yours— are you certain of their concur- 
 rence in it ?" 
 
 " I have few relatives living. Sir," said Linton, reddening j " but I 
 can answer for their participation in all that so nearly concerns my 
 happiness." 
 
 " This evening, then ; come to me this evening, then," said Mr. Cor- 
 rigan, " and you shall hear my sentiments." 
 
 *' This is most kind : I can ask for nothing more," said Linton, and 
 with a most affectionate pressure of the old man's hand departed. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 417 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 Be grateful too! you ask, " for what?" 
 Simply, for that you never got ; 
 And you'll get something yet. 
 
 Macchiaveixi Travestied. 
 
 Mr. Linton, like a large majority of the cunning people in this 
 world, made the mistake of supposing that every one had an " after- 
 thought" — some secret mental reservation in all he said ; that, in fact, no 
 one told " the whole truth" on any subject. Now, judging Mr. Corrigan 
 by this rule, he came to the conclusion — that the old gentleman had 
 not received his addresses with all the warmth that might be expected; — 
 possibly, in the hope of a more advantageous ofifer — possibly, because, 
 in his old Irish pride of family, he had got to learn who this Mr. Linton 
 was, Avhat his connexions, and what position they held in the society of 
 their own country. 
 
 In this way did Linton read the old man's inquiry as to the '^ con- 
 currence of his relatives." It was, to his thinking, a mere subtle 
 attempt to ascertain who and what these same relatives were. " A 
 clever stroke in its way," thought Tom, " but I am not to be drawn out 
 of my entrenchment so easily. Still, the theme will linger in his 
 mind, and must be got rid of." 
 
 Linton knew well how the influence of rank and title can smooth 
 down difficulties of this kind, and ran over in his mind the names of at 
 least a dozen Peers, any one of whom, in such an emergency, would 
 have owned him for a half-brother, or a cousin, at least. 
 
 It was provoking to think how many there were, at that dull season^ 
 listless and unemployed, who could, were he only able to summon them, 
 stand sponsors to his rank and condition. Measuring Corrigan by what 
 he had witnessed in other men of small fortune and retired lives, he 
 deemed "a Lord" was all- essential. Linton had seen a great deal of 
 life, and a great deal of that submissive homage so readily conceded to 
 nobility. A Lord, at a wedding, is like a Captain, in a duel. They are the 
 great ingredients which warrant that these events " come off," properly. 
 They place beyond all cavil or question whatever may occur ; and they 
 are the recognisances one enters into with the world that he is " spliced," 
 or shot like a gentleman. It is quite true Linton was above this 
 vulgarity ; but he was not above the vulgarity of attributing it to 
 another. 
 
 The more he reflected on this, the more did he believe it to be the 
 
 2e 
 
418 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 solution of the whole difficulty. " My kingdom for a Lord !" exclaimod 
 he, laughing aloud at the easy gullibility of that world which he had 
 duped so often. 
 
 The reader is aware, that of the pleasant company of Tuhbermore, 
 Lord Kilgoff was the only representative of the Peerage; and to hira 
 Linton's thoughts at once resorted, as the last hope in his emergency. 
 Of late his Lordship had been gradually mending — clear intervals broke 
 through the mist of his clouded faculties, and displayed him, for the 
 time, in all his wonted self-importance, irritability, and pertinacity. To 
 catch him in one of these fortunate moments was the object, and so 
 induce him to pay a visit to the cottage. 
 
 Could he but succeed in this, none better than the old Peer to play 
 the part assigned to him. The very qualities to make his society in- 
 tolerable would be, here, the earnest of success. The imperturbable con- 
 ceit, the pompous distance of his manner, would repel inquiry, and 
 Linton saw that his oracle would not utter one word more than he 
 ought. 
 
 " He will not — I dare not ask him— to call me his relative," said he ; 
 " but I can easily throw a hazy indistinctness over our intimacy. He 
 can be a friend of ' my poor father' " — Tom laughed at the conceit — 
 "one who knew me from the cradle. With him for a foreground 
 figure, I'll soon paint an imaginary group around him, not one of whom 
 shall be less than a Marquis." 
 
 " With Mary this will not succeed. Laura, indeed, might do me 
 good service in that quarter, but I cannot trust her. Were she more 
 skilled in this world's ways she would gladly aid me — it would be like 
 drawing the game between us; but she is rash, headlong, and passionate. 
 I doubt if even her fears would control her. And, yet, I might work 
 well upon these ! I have the will and the way, both ! The event shall 
 decide whether I employ them." With these thoughts passing in his 
 mind he reached the house, and entering unobserved, since they were 
 all at breakfast, repaired to his own room. 
 
 He immediately sat down and wrote a few lines to Lord KilgofF, 
 inquiring with solicitude after his health, and craving the favour of 
 being permitted to wait upon him. This done, he amused himself 
 by inventing a number of little political " gossipries" for the old Peer — 
 those small nothings which form the sweepings of clubs and the whisper- 
 ings of under-secretaries' offices ; the pleasant trifles which every one 
 repeats, but no one believes. 
 
 ^' My Lord will see Mr. Linton whenever he pleases," was the answer 
 of the valet ; and Linton lost no time in availing himself of the per- 
 mission. 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 419 
 
 " His Lordship is at breakfast?" said he to the servant, as he walked 
 along. 
 
 « Yes, Sir." 
 
 *' And her Ladyship ?" 
 
 " My Lady breakfasts below stairs, Sir." 
 
 " As it ought to be; he is alone," thought Linton, who in his present 
 incertitude of purpose had no desire to meet her. 
 
 " If you'll have the goodness to wait a moment, Sir, I'll tell my Lord 
 you are here," said the man, as he ushered Linton into a handsome draw- 
 ing-room, which various scattered objects denoted to be her Ladyship's. 
 
 As Linton looked over the table, where books, drawings, and em- 
 broidery were negligently thrown, his eye caught many an object he 
 had known long, long before ; and there came over him, ere he knew 
 it, a strange feeling of melancholy. The past rushed vividly to his 
 mind — that time when, sharing with her all his ambitions and his hopes, 
 he had lived in a kind of fairy world. He turned over the leaves of her 
 sketch-book — she had done little of late — an unfinished bit, here and 
 there, was all he found ; and he sat gazing at the earlier drawings, every 
 one of which he remembered. There was one of an old pine-tree 
 scathed by lightning, at the top, but spreading out, beneatli, into a light 
 and feathery foliage, beneath which they had often sat together. A 
 date in pencil had been written at the foot, but was now erased, leaving 
 only enough to discover where it had been. Linton's breathing grew 
 hurried, and his pale cheek, paler, as with his head resting on his hands 
 he sat, bent over this. " I was happier then," said he, with a sigh that 
 seemed to rise from his very heart ; " far happier ! But would it have 
 lasted ? that is the question. Would mere love have compensated for 
 thwarted ambition, delusive hope, and poverty ? How should I have 
 borne continued reverses?" 
 
 The door opened, and Lady Kilgoff entered; not seeing him, nor ex- 
 pecting any one in the apartment, she was humming an opera air, when 
 suddenly she perceived him. " Mr. Linton here ? This is a surprise 
 indeed!" exclaimed she, as, drawing herself proudly up, she seemed to 
 question the reason of his presence. 
 
 " I beg you will forgive an intrusion which was not of my seeking. 
 I came to pay my respects to Lord KilgoflP, and his servant showed me 
 into this chamber until his Lordship should be ready to receive me." 
 
 " Wo'n't you be seated, Sir?" said she, with an accent which it would 
 be difficult to say whether it implied an invitation or the opposite. 
 
 Few men had more self-possession than Linton, fewer still knew bet- 
 ter how to construe a mere accent, look, or a gesture, and yet, he 
 
 2e2 
 
420 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 stood now, uncertain and undecided how to act. Meanwhile Lady 
 KilgofF, arranging the frame of her embroidery, took her seat near the 
 window. 
 
 " Penelope must have worked in Berlin wool, I'm certain," said Lin- 
 ton, as he approached where she sat. " These wonderful tissues seem 
 never to finish." 
 
 " In that lies their great merit," replied she, smiling; *' it is some- 
 times useful to have an occupation whose monotony disposes to thought, 
 even when the thoughts themselves are not all pleasurable." 
 
 " I should have fancied, that monotony would dispose to brooding," 
 said he, slowly. 
 
 " Perhaps it may now and then," said she, carelessly. " Life, like 
 climate, should not be all sunshine;" and then, as if wishing to change 
 the theme, she added, " You have been absent a day or two ?" 
 
 " Yes ; an unexpected piece of fortune has befallen me. I find 
 myself the heir of a considerable property, just as I have reached that 
 point in life when wealth has no charm for me ! There was a time 
 when but, no matter ; regrets are half-brother to cowardice." 
 
 " We can no more help one than the other, occasionally?," said she, 
 with a faint sigh; and both were silent for some time. 
 
 " Is not that tulip somewhat too florid?" said he, stooping over her 
 embroidery. 
 
 " That tulip is a poppy, Mr. Linton." 
 
 " What a natural mistake after all !" said he. " How many human 
 tulips who, not only look like, but are, downright poppies ! Is not this 
 house intolerably stupid ?" 
 
 " I'm ashamed to own I think it pleasant," said she, smiling. 
 
 " You were more fastidious once, if my memory serves me aright," 
 said he, meaningly. 
 
 " Perhaps so," said she, carelessly. " I begin to fancy that odd people 
 are more amusing than clever ones ; and certainly, they entertain with- 
 out an effort, and that is an immense gain." 
 
 "Do you think so? I should have supposed the very effort would have 
 claimed some merit, showing that the desire to please had prompted it." 
 
 *' My Lord will see Mr. Linton at present," said the servant. 
 
 Linton nodded, and the man withdrew. 
 
 " How long ago is it since you made this sketch ?" said he, opening 
 the book, as if accidentally, at the page with the pine-tree. 
 
 She turned, and although her bent-down head concealed her features, 
 Linton saw the crimson flush spread over the neck as she answered, 
 " About three years ago." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 421 
 
 " Scarcely so much," said he. '* If I mistake not, I wrote the date 
 myself beneath it; but it has worn out." 
 
 " You will excuse my reminding you, Mr. Linton, that Lord Kilgoff 
 has not regained his habitual patience, and will be very irritable if you 
 defer a pleasure, such as a visit from you always affords him." 
 
 '' Happy conjuncture," said lie, smiling, " that can make my presence 
 desired, in one quarter, when my absence is wished for, in another ;" and 
 with a low, respectful bow, he left the room. 
 
 Whatever the object of the hint, Lady Kilgoff had not exaggerated 
 his Lordship's deficiency in the Job-like element, and Linton found him, 
 on entering, interrogating the servant as to whether he " had conveyed 
 his message properly, and what answer he had received." 
 
 " That will do. Leave the room," said he. Then turning to 
 Linton, " I have waited twelve minutes, Sir — nearly thirteen — since my 
 servant informed you I would receive you." 
 
 " I am exceedingly sorry, my Lord, to have occasioned you even a 
 moment of impatience. I was mentioning to Lady Kilgoff a circum- 
 stance of recent good fortune to myself, and I grieve that my egotism 
 should have mastered my sense of propriety." 
 
 " Twelve minutes, or thirteen, either, may seem a very unimportant 
 fraction of time to men of mere pleasure, but to those whose weightier 
 cares impose graver thoughts is a very considerable inroad. Sir."" 
 
 " I know it, my Lord. I feel it deeply, and I beg you to excuse me." 
 
 " Life is too short, at least in its active period, to squander twelve 
 minutes, Mr. Linton ; and however you, inyour station, and y{\t\\ your 
 pursuits, may deem otherwise, I would wish to observe that persons in 
 mine think differently." 
 
 Linton looked a perfect statue of contrition, nor did he utter another 
 word. Perhaps he felt that continuing the discussion would be but an 
 indifferent mode of compensating for the injury already incurred. 
 
 " And now, Mr. Linton, I conclude that it was not without a reason 
 you sought an interview at this unusual hour ?" 
 
 " The old story, my Lord ; and as I came to ask a favour I selected 
 the petite levee as the most appropriate hour." 
 
 " Indeed ! you surprise me much how an individual so much forgotten 
 as Lord Kilgoff can possibly be of service to that most promising gen- 
 tleman Mr. Linton !" 
 
 Linton never heeded the sarcastic discontent of the speech, but went 
 on, — 
 
 " Yes, my Lord, you find me, as you have so often found me, a 
 suppliant." 
 
422 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " I have nothing to bestow, Sir." 
 
 " You can do all that I could ask, or even wish for, my Lord. My 
 ambition is not very unmeasured ; my greatest desire is to have the 
 opportunity of frequent intercourse with you, and the benefit of that 
 practical wisdom for which your Lordship's conversation is distinguished 
 at home and abroad." 
 
 '* My valet is not going to leave me," said the old man, with an in- 
 solence of look that tallied with the rude speech. 
 
 « My Lord !— " 
 
 " Nay, nay, you must not be offended ; I was rather jesting on my 
 own barrenness of patronage than upon your proposal." 
 
 Linton saw by the slight advantage he had gained that the bold 
 course was the more promising, and continued — 
 
 " You will soon have a great deal of business on your hands, my 
 Lord, and so, I will economise your time and your patience. You have 
 not heard, I am aware, that Dollington has been recalled. The mission 
 at Florence is to give away, and I am here to ask for the Secretaryship. 
 I know well that the appointment is a Foreign-office one; but Blackwell, 
 who gives me the present information, says, * If you have interest with 
 Kilgoff push it now ; his recommendation will, I know, be attended 
 to.' He then goes on to say that Dollington is most anxious to know 
 if you would take his house off his hands. He has been furnishing 
 and arranging the interior most expensively, never dreaming of a 
 recall." 
 
 " When did this news come?" said Lord Kilgoff, sitting down and 
 wiping his forehead, on which the perspiration now stood, from agitation. 
 
 " Yesterday. Blackwell sent a cabinet messenger to me, but with the 
 strictest injunctions to secrecy. In fact, the rumour would call so many 
 suitors into the field, that the Foreign-office would be besieged." 
 
 '' You can rely upon it, however?" 
 
 " Unquestionably. Blackwell writes me that the thing is done. You 
 will receive the offer immediately after the recess." 
 
 *' You acted very properly, I must say — very properly indeed, in 
 giving me this early notice of his Majesty's gracious intentions with 
 regard to me, the more, as I shall have time to consider how far my views 
 upon questions of Foreign politics are in agreement with those of the 
 Government." 
 
 " Upon that point your Lordship's mind may be at rest. I gather 
 from Blackwell that you will receive the widest discretion. The Secre- 
 tary of State has named you as the man ; of course, interference is out 
 of the question." 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 423 
 
 " Of course it would be, Sir, were I to accept the mission. Dol- 
 lington's house, I conclude, is a suitable one, and we'll think of it; and 
 as to yourself, Linton, I really am at a loss what to say. Lady Kilgoff, 
 it is best to be candid, is prejudiced against you. She thinks you satirical 
 
 and sarcastic, as if " and here he raised his head, and threw forward 
 
 his chin with most imposing dignity — " as if the person who bore 
 my name need fear such qualities anywhere ; but besides this, it appears 
 to me that your abilities are not diplomatic. You have neither that 
 natural reserve, nor that suave impressiveness * the line' requires. 
 You are a Club man, and will probably make a very good House of 
 Commons man; but diplomacy, Mr. Linton — diplomacy is a high — I had 
 almost said, a sacred vocation! To all the prestige of family and 
 ancient lineage, must be added the most insinuating graces of manner. 
 Personal advantages should be combined with a high cultivation, so that 
 the Envoy may worthily mirror forth the Majesty he represents. It 
 would be an inestimable benefit if the Eastern principle of ' caste' 
 were observed in diplomacy, and the office of Ambassador be limited to 
 certain families ! Believe me, Sir, you may say of such, * Nascitur 
 nonfit: " 
 
 As he spoke, his eyes flashed, and his cheek became flushed ; the 
 flutter of self-Importance gave a fresh impulse to his circulation, and 
 he walked back and forward in a perfect ecstacy of delight. 
 
 " Alas, my Lord ! you have made me feel too deeply the presump- 
 tion of my request. I confess, till I had listened to your eloquent 
 exposition, I had formed other and very erroneous ideas upon this sub- 
 ject. I see, now, that I am quite unsulted to the career. The very fact 
 that it becomes your Lordship, is evidence enough how unfitted it would 
 prove to me." 
 
 " I will not say, that in Greece, or perhaps with some Republican 
 Government, you might not be very eligible. We'll consider 
 about it." 
 
 "Xo, no, my Lord; I'll content myself with more humble fortunes. 
 I suppose there is always a place for every capacity — and now, to a matter 
 purely personal to myself, and in which I hope I may count upon your 
 kind co-operation. I have thoughts of marriage., my Lord, and as I am 
 a stranger in this country, unconnected with it by kindred or connexion, 
 I would ask of you to give me that sanction and currency which the 
 honour of your Lordship's friendship confers. The lady upon whom I 
 have fixed my choice is without fortune, but of a family which traces 
 back to Royalty, I fancy. This Irish pride of lineage, then, requires that 
 I, upon my side, should not be deficient in such pretensions." 
 
424 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " I am not a Clarencieux, nor Norroy, Sir, to make out your gene- 
 alogy," said the old Peer, with ineffable disdain. 
 
 Linton had more difficulty to control his laughter than his anger at 
 this impertinent absurdity. "I was not thinking of ' the tree/ my Lord, 
 but its last and most insignificant twig, myself; and, remembering how 
 many kindnesses I owed you, how uniformly your patronage had be- 
 friended me through life, I still reckon upon the feeling to serve me 
 once more." 
 
 " Be explicit. What do you ask?" said he, leaning back and looking 
 like a Monarch Avhose will was half omnipotence. 
 
 '' What I should like, my Lord, is this — that you would permit me 
 to drive you over some morning to the gentleman's house, where, pre- 
 senting the family to your Lordship, I might, while enjoying the sanction 
 of your intimacy and friendship, also obtain your opinion upon the merits 
 of one with whom I would link my humble destinies. I have said that the 
 lady has no fortune ; but your Lordship has shown the noble example of 
 selecting for far higher and more ennobling qualities than wealth." 
 This was said with a spice of that subdued raillery of which Linton was 
 a master; and he saw, with delight, how the old Peer winced under it. 
 
 " Very true, Sir ; your remark is just, except that, the disparity be- 
 tween our conditions does not give the instance the force of example ; 
 nor am I certain the experiment will be always successful!" The irri- 
 tation under which the last words were uttered spread a triumphant joy 
 through Linton's heart, nor dare he trust himself to speak, lest he should 
 reveal it! 
 
 " Perhaps a letter, Mr. Linton, would answer your object. It ap- 
 pears to me that the condescension of a visit is a step too far in advance. 
 You are aware that, in a day or two, as his Majesty's representative, 
 etiquette would require that I should never make the initiative in 
 acquaintance." 
 
 "Pardon my interrupting, my Lord; but that rule will only apply to 
 you at the seat of your mission. Here, you have no other distinction 
 than of being the well-known leader of the Irish Peerage — the great 
 head of an illustrious body, who look up to you for guidance and 
 direction." 
 
 *' You are right, perhaps. Sir — my station is what you have described 
 it. I trust you have not mentioned to Lady Kilgoff anything of your 
 Foreign-office news ?" 
 
 " Of course not, my Lord. It will always remain with your dis- 
 cretion, when and how to make the communication." 
 
 ** It appears to me, Sir, that her Ladyship has admitted many of the 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 425 
 
 inmates here to a degree of intimacy quite inconsistent with their relative 
 stations." 
 
 " Her Ladyship's youth and amiability of manner offer great tempta- 
 tions to the inroads of obtrusiveness/' said Linton, with the air of one 
 thinking aloud. 
 
 " I disagree with you, Sir, entirely. I was young myself, Sir, and, 
 I am told, not quite destitute of those attractions you speak of ; but I am 
 not aware that any one ever took a liberty with me ! This must be 
 looked to; and now, your affair? When is it to come off? Your 
 marriage, I mean ?' ' 
 
 " That is by no means so certain, my Lord," said Linton, who smiled 
 in spite of himself at the careless tone in which his Lordship treated so 
 very humble an event. " I may reckon on your Lordship's assistance, 
 however ?" 
 
 Lord Kilgoff waived his hand in token of acquiescence, and Linton 
 took a formal leave, almost bursting with laughter at the ridiculous con- 
 ceit he had himself contributed to create. 
 
 " Aye," muttered he, as he descended the stairs. " As a democrat, 
 an out-and-out democrat, I say, *Long live a Hereditary Peerage.* 
 I know nothing can equal it, in making the untitled classes the 
 rulers." 
 
 CHAPTER LL 
 
 So cunning — like the doubling of the hare, 
 Oft turns upon itself. 
 
 Bell. 
 
 It was a rainy day — one of those downright pelting, pouring, swoop- 
 ing wet days which Ireland is accustomed to, for nearly one-half of 
 every year. All out-of-door occupation was impossible ; the most 
 fidgety could only get as far as the stables, to smoke a cigar and 
 " chaff" horse-talk with the grooms; while the more resigned wandered 
 from room to room, and place to place, in that restlessness that defies 
 common philosophy to subdue. 
 
 A wet day in a country-house is always a severe trial. Sociability 
 will not be coerced, and the greater the necessity for mutual assistance, 
 the less is the disposition to render it ; besides, they who habitually con- 
 tribute least to the enjoyment of their fellows, have always great re- 
 sources of annoyance at such periods— as the most insignificant instru- 
 
426 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 merit in the orchestra can, at any moment, destroy the harmony of the 
 band. 
 
 Scarcely was breakfast over in Tubbermore, than the guests were scat- 
 tered in various directions, it was difficult to say where. Now, and then, 
 some one would peep into the drawing-room or the library, and, as if not 
 seeing " the right man," shut the door noiselessly, and depart. Of the 
 younger men, many were sleeping off the debauch of the previous even- 
 ing. Downie Meek, who had a theory upon the subject, always kept 
 his bed while it rained. Sir Andrew had, unfortunately, mistaken a 
 lotion containing laudanum for some concoction of bitters, and was 
 obliged to be kept eternally walking up and down stairs, along corridors 
 and passages, lest he should drop asleep ; his man, Flint, accompanying 
 him with " the wakeful announcement" of " Hae a care. Sir Andrew, 
 here's my Leddy," an antidote to the narcotic worth all the Pharmaco- 
 poeia contained. 
 
 Lady Janet was meanwhile deep in the formation of a stomachic, 
 which, judging from the maid's face as she tasted it, must needs have 
 been of the pungent order. Mrs. White was letter- writing. Howie 
 was sketching heads of the company, under the title of " Beauties of 
 Ireland," for a weekly newspaper. Frobisher was instructing Miss Meek 
 in the science of making knee-caps for one of his horses, and so with the 
 remainder, a few only were to be seen below stairs ; of these the " Chief 
 was fast asleep with the Quarterly on his knee, and a stray subaltern or 
 two sat conning over the " Army List," and gazing in stupid wonder at 
 their own names in print ! And now we come to the Kennyfecks, at 
 whose door a servant stands knocking for the second or third time. 
 " Come in" is heard, and he enters. 
 
 The blinds are drawn, which adding to the gloom of the day, the 
 vast apartment is in semi-darkness, and it is some time before you can 
 descry the figures. On a sofa sits Mrs. Kenny feck in a kind of travel- 
 ling dress, with her bonnet beside her; fragments of ribbons and stray 
 articles of dress litter the sofa and the table, several trunks are strewn 
 about, and a maid and a man are performing a pas de deux on an 
 " imperial," which, in its efforts to close at the lock, is giving way 
 simultaneously, at the hinges. Miss Kennyfeck stands at the chimney 
 burning notes and letters, of which, as she glances from time to timej 
 her features betray the tenor ; and lastly, Olivia is lying on a sofa, her 
 face concealed between her hands, and only the quick palpitation of her 
 bosom showing that her agitation is not lulled in slumber. 
 
 " What does he say ? I can't hear him with all that stamping," 
 said Mrs. Kennyfeck ; and her voice was not of the dulcet order. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 427 
 
 " He says the post-horses have come, Mamma; and wishes to know 
 when he's to come round with the carriage." 
 
 '* When I give orders for it ; not till then," said she, imperiously; and 
 the man, abashed in such a presence, departed. 
 
 " There, Pearse, leave it so ; I cannot bear that noise any longer. 
 Frances, you needn't wait ; I'll send for you if I want you ;" and the 
 servants withdrew. 
 
 " He's at least two hoiu-s away, now," said she, addressing her 
 eldest daughter. 
 
 " Very nearly. It wanted only a few minutes to eleven when Mr. 
 Cashel sent for him." 
 
 " I hope, Caroline, that he will remember what is due, not to him- 
 self — I cannot say that — but to me, on this occasion. It is impossible 
 that Cashel can avoid the acknowledgment of his attentions ; nothing 
 but your father's incompetence could permit of his escape." 
 
 " It's too late. Mamma — altogether too late. When Aunt 
 Fanny " 
 
 " Don't speak of her — don't even mention her name in my presence," 
 cried Mrs. Kennyfeck, with an accent of bitter anguish. 
 
 " I was merely going to observe, Mamma, that her conduct has in- 
 volved us in such ridicule, that, reparation of the miscliief is out of the 
 question." 
 
 " I wish we were away ; I cannot bear to stay another day here," 
 said Olivia, with a deep €igh. 
 
 " If Aunt—" 
 
 " Don't call her your Aunt, Caroline ; I forbid it ; she is no sister of 
 mine ; she has been the evil genius of our family all her life long. But 
 for her and her wiles I had never been married to your father ! Just 
 fancy what a position you might have had now, but for that cruel 
 mishap." 
 
 The problem, to judge from Miss Kennyfeck's face, seemed difficult 
 to solve ; but she prudently held her peace. 
 
 " You may rest assured they know it all below stairs. That odious 
 Lady Janet has told it in every dressing-room already." 
 
 " And Linton, Mamma," said Caroline, whose sisterly feelings were 
 merged in most impartial justice, " only fancy Linton imitating Aunt 
 Fanny's benediction with uplifted hands and eyes. I almost think I 
 see him before me, and hear the insolent shouts of laughter on every 
 side." 
 
 " Give me the aromatic vinegar !" said Mrs. Kennyfeck, with an 
 accent like suffocation. 
 
428 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 *' I think there's some one at the door. Come in," cried Miss Kenny- 
 feck ; and a very smartly-dressed groom entered with a note. 
 
 " Is there any answer to this ?" said Mrs. Kennyfeck, listlessly, who 
 thought it one of the habitual invitations to some excursion in a carriage 
 or on horseback. 
 
 " Yes, my Lady," said the servant, bowing. 
 
 The title sounded pleasantly, and Mrs. K.'s features relaxed as she 
 broke the seal. 
 
 Ah, Mrs. Kennyfeck_, indolently and carelessly as you hold that 
 small epistle in your fingers, it cost him who wrote it many a puzzling 
 thought, and many a fair sheet of foolscap. Critics assure us that style 
 is no criterion of the labour of composition, and that Johnson's rounded 
 periods ran flippantly off the pen, while the seemingly careless sentences 
 of Rousseau cost days and nights of toil. The note was from Sir Harvey 
 Upton, and neither by its caligraphy nor grammar shed lustre on the 
 literary genius of his corps. It went thus: — 
 
 " My Deak Madam, — 
 " The beauty and fascinations of your daughters — but more especially 
 of the second — have conspired to inspire me with sentiments of respect- 
 ful admiration, which may speedily become something warmer should I 
 obtain the gratifying sensation of your approbation. 
 
 " Family, fortune, and future expectations, will, I fancy, be found * all 
 right.' 
 
 " Part of the estate entailed on the Baronetcy ; encumbrances, a trifle. 
 " I am, waiting your reply, dear Madam, 
 
 " Very respectfully yours, 
 
 " Harvey Upton, 
 
 " Hussars." 
 
 "Shall we write, Cary?" whispered Mrs. Kennyfeck, in the very 
 faintest of tones. 
 
 " Better not. Mamma ; a verbal * happy to see Sir Harvey,' safer," 
 was the answer. 
 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck yielded to the sager counsel, and the servant departed 
 with the message. 
 
 " We may leave the matter entirely with Livy, Mamma," said her 
 sister, half sarcastically ; " I opine that, innocence, upon the present 
 occasion, will carry the day." 
 
 " I am glad of it," said Mrs. Kennyfeck ; " I am fatigued and out of 
 spirits : I'd rather not receive visitors." 
 
 " A white frock and a little sentiment — a sprig of jessamine and a bit 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 429 
 
 of poetry !" said Miss K., as she arranged her hair at the glass ; " only 
 don't overdo it, Livy." 
 
 "I'd much rather you'd not go !" said Olivia, languidly. 
 
 " Of course, my dear; we are perfectly aware of that; but we have 
 our duties also. Mamma, must take care that Aunt Fanny does not 
 " give you away," before you're asked for ; and I, must see what the result 
 of Papa's interview with Cashel may be, lest you should make a bad 
 market while a good bid is being offered." 
 
 " Clever creature !" murmured Mrs. Kennyfeck, as she rose to leave 
 the room. 
 
 " It will seem so odd. Mamma, that I'm to receive him, alone !'* 
 
 " Not at all, Livy ; we are packing up to go off: there are the trunks 
 and cap-cases all strewn about. You can be engaged with Frances, and 
 send her to summon us when Sir Harvey comes," said Miss Kennyfeck. 
 
 " Just so, my dear ; and then you'll entreat of him to sit down — all 
 as if you had heard nothing of his note ; you'll be quite lively and natural 
 in your manner." 
 
 " Ah, Mamma; remember what Talleyrand said to the Emperor : 
 * Give me the instructions, Sire. But leave the knavery to myself.' My 
 sweet sister is quite diplomatic enough to re-echo it." 
 
 Livy looked reproachfully at her, but said nothing. 
 
 " If I discover, my dear, that the high prize is on your ticket, I'll 
 wear a handkerchief round my neck. Without you see this emblem, 
 don't discard your Baronet." 
 
 "Mamma, is this quite fair?" said Olivia. " Cary speaks as if my 
 heart had no possible concern in the matter." 
 
 " Quite the reverse, my dear ; but bear in mind that you have only 
 one heart, and it would not be altogether discreet to give it away to 
 two parties. Cary is always right, my love, in morals as in everything 
 else !" 
 
 " And how am I to behave. Mamma," said Olivia, with more courage 
 than before, " if I am neither to refuse nor accept Sir Harvey's 
 proposals ?" 
 
 " Did you never flirt, Livy, dearest? — doesn't every partner with whom 
 you dance twice of the same evening make advances that are neither 
 repelled nor received? The silliest boarding-school miss that ever 
 blushed before her Italian teacher knows how to treat such difficulties, 
 if they deserve the name. But we are delaying too long. Mamma ! 
 to your post, while I, in the library, establish a strict blockade over 
 Papa." 
 
 With these words Miss Kennyfeck waved her hand affectedly in 
 adieu, and led her mother from the room, while Olivia, after a second's 
 
430 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 pause, arose and arrayed more smoothly the silky tresses of her hair 
 before the glass. 
 
 We have once already, in this veracious narrative, been ungallant 
 enough to peep at this young lady, and coolly watch her strategy before 
 the enemy. We will not repeat the offence, nor linger to mark how, 
 as she walked the room, she stopped from time to time before the 
 mirror to gaze on charms which expectancy had already heightened ; in 
 fact, we will quit the chamber with Mrs. Kennyfeck and her elder 
 daughter, and as the choice is permitted which to follow, we select the 
 latter. 
 
 " Here's Miss Kennyfeck, by Jove !" cried Jennings, as she crossed 
 the Hall. *' We have all been dying to see you ; pray, come here and 
 give us your counsel ;" and he led her into a small drawing-room, where, 
 around a table covered with prints and coloured drawings of costume, 
 a considerable number of the guests were assembled. 
 
 ** For mercy sake, nothing out of the ' Waverley Novels !' " said the 
 blonde Lady. " I am wearied of seeing the Jewess Rebecca wherever 
 I go." 
 
 " Well, I'll be Diana Vernon, I know that," said Miss Meek ; " you 
 may all choose how you please." 
 
 " But you can't be, my love, if we have the * Midsummer Night's 
 Dream,' " said Mrs. White. 
 
 " Why can't I, if Charley takes Osbaldiston ?" said she. 
 
 " Because they are not characters of the piece." 
 
 " Nobody cares for character in a masquerade !" said Linton. 
 
 " Or if they have any, they put a mask over it," said Lady Janet. 
 
 " I vote that we are all Tyrolese peasanths," lisped the fat and dumpy 
 Mrs, Malone. " It's a most picthuresque costhume." 
 
 " What will you be, Sir Andrew ?" cried another, as the old General 
 passed the door in a dog-trot, with Flint behind him. 
 
 " By me saul ! I thenk, I'll be * the Wanderin' Jew !* " cried he, wiping 
 the perspiration off his forehead. 
 
 "You hear that, Lady Janet?" cried Linton, roguishly. "Sir 
 Andrew intends to live for ever." 
 
 *' So that I don't, Sir, I can't complain," said she, with a tartness 
 quite electric. 
 
 " I incline to leave the choice of each free," said Miss Kennyfeck, as 
 she tossed over the drawings. " When you select a story, there are 
 always a certain number of characters nobody likes to take." 
 
 " I'll be Henri Quatre," said an Infantry Captain. " I wish you'd be 
 Gabrielle, Miss Kennyfeck ?" 
 
 " Thanks; but I've a fancy for that Cephalonian costume." 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 4S1 
 
 " Egad, you can always pick up a * Greek' or two, here, to keep you 
 company," said a Hussar ; but no one joined his laugh. 
 
 " ril be Don Belianis !" said a tall melancholy subaltern. 
 
 " What were you at Bellingden's last year, Fillymore ?" 
 
 " I went as * Chiffney ;' but they turned me out. The whole, was 
 medieval, and they said, I was all wrong." 
 
 " Try that turban, my dear Miss Kennyfeck," said Mrs. White, who, 
 suspecting the young lady wore false ringlets, made a vigorous effort to 
 expose the cheat. 
 
 " By Jove ! how becoming !" exclaimed Jennings. " Now, put on the 
 mantle — not over the right shoulder, but so — crossed a little." 
 
 " You ought to have this scarf round your neck," said another ; 
 " blue and gold have such an excellent effect." 
 
 " I vote for your wearing that," said the Hussar, quite smitten with 
 her beauty. '^ What do they call the dress ?" 
 
 *' Costume of Leopoldine of Eschingen, who defended the * Irongate* 
 against the Turks, in 1662." 
 
 " Where was that ?" asked one. 
 
 "In somebody's avenue, I suppose," lisped out the tall Sub. 
 
 " No, no ; it's on some river or other. There's a cataract they call 
 the Irongate — I forget where." 
 
 " The Lethe, perhaps," said Miss Kennyfeck, slily. 
 
 " Is not that a pace ! — by Jove ! Cashel's in a hurry. This way," 
 said Jennings ; and they all rushed to the window, in time to see Roland 
 flit past at a full gallop. 
 
 Miss Kennyfeck did not wait for more, but throwing off the turban 
 and mantle, hastened out to catch her father, who, at the same instant, 
 was issuing from the library. 
 
 " Now, Pa," said she, slipping her arm within his, "how is it to be? 
 Pray, now, don't affect the mysterious, but say at once — has he pro- 
 posed?" 
 
 "Who ? — has who proposed ?" 
 
 " Mr. Cashel, of course. How could I mean any other ?" 
 
 " For you, my dear?" said he, for once venturing upon a bit of 
 raillery. 
 
 "Pshaw, Pa; for Olivia!" 
 
 " Nothing of the kind, my dear. Such a subject has never been 
 alluded to between us." 
 
 " Poor thing ! she has been badly treated then, that's all ! It would, 
 however, have saved us all a world of misconception if you had only 
 said so at first ; you must own that." 
 
432 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " But you forget, Miss Kennyfeck, that I never supposed you enter- 
 tained this impression. Mr. Cashel's conversation with me related 
 exclusively to the afiPairs of his property." 
 
 *' Poor Livy !" said Miss Kennyfeck, letting go his arm and ascend- 
 ing the stairs. As Miss Kennyfeck drew near the door of the drawing- 
 room, she began to sing sufficiently loud to be heard by those within, 
 and thus, judiciously heralding her approach, she opened the door and 
 entered. Sir Harvey had been standing beside the chimney-piece with 
 Olivia, but turned hastily round, his countenance exhibiting that state 
 of mingled doubt, fear, and satisfaction, which vouched for the clever- 
 ness of the young lady's tactics. Nothing, in truth, could have been 
 more adroit than her management, performing a feat which among 
 naval men is known as " backing and filling," she succeeded in 
 manoeuvring for nigh an hour, without ever advancing or retiring. 
 We should be unwilling to deny our reader the value of a lesson, did 
 we not feel how the fairer portion of our audience would weary over a 
 recital, in every detail of which they could instruct our ignorance. 
 
 The late Lord Londonderry was famed for being able to occupy " the 
 House" for any given time without ever communicating a fact, raising 
 a question, solving a difficulty, or, what is harder than all, commit- 
 ting himself. But how humbly does this dexterity appear beside the 
 young-lady-like tact, that, opposed by all the importunity of a lover, 
 can play the game in such wise, that after fifty-odd minutes the 
 *' pieces" shoidd stand upon the board, precisely as they did at the 
 beginning ! 
 
 "How do you. Sir Harvey? Why are you not on that Commit- 
 tee of Costume in the little drawing-room, where the great question at 
 issue is between the time of the Crusades and the Swell Mob?" 
 
 *' I have been far more agreeably occupied, in a manner that my feel- 
 ings" (here Olivia looked disappointed) — "my heart, I mean," said he 
 (and the young lady looked dignified) — " my feelings and my heart, 
 too," resumed he, horribly puzzled which tack to sail upon, " assure me 
 must nearly concern my future happiness." 
 
 '' How pleasant!" said Cary, laughingly, as if she accepted the speech 
 as some high-flown compliment, " you are so fortunate to know what 
 to do, on a dreary wet day, like this." 
 
 Olivia, whose eyes were bent upon her sister, changed colour more 
 than once. " The signal was flying" — " stop firing," just at the mo- 
 ment when the enemy had all but " struck;" — in less figurative phrase, 
 Miss Kennyfeck's throat was encircled by the scarf which she had for- 
 gotten to lay aside on leaving the drawing-room. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 433 
 
 The object was too remarkable to escape notice, and Olivia's face 
 grew scarlet as she thought of her triumph. Miss Kennyfeck saw this, 
 but attributed the agitation to anything but its true cause. 
 
 " Tm in search of Mamma," said she, and with a very peculiar glance 
 at Olivia, left the room. 
 
 Sir Harvey's visit lasted full twenty minutes longer, and although, no 
 record has been preserved of what passed on the occasion, they who met 
 him descending the stairs all agreed in describing his appearance as most 
 gloomy and despondent. As for Olivia, she saw the door close after 
 jhim with a something very like sorrow. There was no love in the case, 
 nor anything within a day's journey of it ; but he was good-looking, 
 fashionable, well-mannered, and moustachoed. She would have been 
 " My Lady," too ; and though this is but a " brevet nobility" after all, it 
 has all " the sound of the true metal." She thought over all these 
 things ; and she thought, besides, how very sad he looked when she said 
 " No ;" and, how much sadder, when asking the usual question about 
 " Time, and proved devotion, and all that sort of thing," she said " No" 
 again ; and how, saddest of all, when she made the stereotyped little speech 
 about " sisterly affection, and seeing him happy with another!" Oh, dear ! 
 oh, dear ! is it not veiy wearisome and depressing to think that chess 
 can have some hundred thousand combinations, and love-making but its 
 two or three " gambits," — the " fool's-mate," the chief of them ? We 
 have said she was sorry for what had occurred ; but she consoled herself 
 by remembering, it was not her fault that Sir Harvey was not as rich 
 as Cashel, and, nephew to a live uncle ! 
 
 As Sir Harvey's, " Lady" — heaven forgive me, I had almost written 
 " Wife" — she would have been the envy of a very large circle of her 
 Dublin acquaintance; and then, she knew that these Dragoon people have 
 a way of making their money go so much farther than civilians; and 
 in all that regards horses, equipage, and outward show, the smartest 
 *' mufti" is a seedy affair beside the frogs of the new regulation pelisse ! 
 She actually began to feel misgivings about her choice. 
 
 A high drag at the Howth races, a crowd of whiskered fellows of 
 " Ours," and the band of the regiment in Merrion Square, came home to 
 her *' dear Dublin" imagination, with irresistible fascination. In her mind's 
 eye, she had already cut the '' Bar," and been coldly distant with the In- 
 fantry. It was a little reverie of small triumphs, but, the sum of them, 
 mounted up to something considerable. 
 
 " Is he gone, Livy?" said Cary, as entering noiselessly she stole be- 
 hind her sister's chair. 
 
 " Yes, dear, he is gone !" said she, sighing slightly. 
 
 2p 
 
484 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 *' My poor forlorn damsel, don't take his absence so much to heart ! 
 You're certain to see him at dinner !" 
 
 " He said he'd leave this afternoon," said she, gravely ; " that he 
 couldn't bear to meet me, after what had passed." 
 
 " And what has passed, child ?" 
 
 *' You know of course, Cary, I refused him !" 
 
 " Refused him ! — refused him ! — What possessed you to do so ?" 
 
 " This !" said Olivia, gasping with terror at the unknown danger; and 
 she caught hold of the fringe of her sister's scarf. 
 
 Miss Kennyfeck started, and put her hand to her neck, and suddenly 
 letting it fall again, she leaned against the wall for support. 
 
 " This was a mistake, Livy," said she, in a voice barely above a whisper; 
 " I was trying on some costumes below stairs, and they tied this round 
 my neck, where I utterly forgot it." 
 
 " And there is nothing — " she could not go on, but hanging her head, 
 burst into tears. 
 
 " My poor dear Livy, don't give way so ; the fault, I know, was all 
 mine. Let me try if I cannot repair it. Have you positively refused 
 him ?" 
 
 She nodded, but could not speak. 
 
 " Did you say that there was no hope — ^that your sentiments could 
 never change ?" 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Come, that's not so bad ; men never believe that." 
 
 *' You didn't say that your affections were engaged ?" 
 
 " No V 
 
 " There's a dear child," said she, kissing her neck ; " I knew you'd 
 not be guilty of such folly. And how did you part, Livy, coldly ; or in 
 affectionate sorrow ?'' 
 
 " Coldly; we did not shake hands." 
 
 " That's right ; all as it ought to be. It is a sad blunder, but I hope 
 not irreparable. Cheer up, child ; depend upon it, mi/ scarf is not so 
 fatal as Aunt Fanny's blessing." 
 
 " Ah, then, my dear, I don't see much difference in the end," said 
 that redoubtable lady herself, who issued from a small conservatory off 
 the drawing-room, where she had lain in wait for the last half hour. 
 *' I heard it, my dears, and a nice hash you made of it between you, 
 with your signals and telescopes !" — we believe she meant telegraphs — 
 " you threw out the dirty water, now, in earnest !" And so saying, she 
 proceeded to disentangle herself from a prickly creeper, which had a 
 most pertinacious hold of what Linton called her " scalp lock." 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 435 
 
 " Aunt Fanny's blessing, indeed !' said she, for her temper knew no 
 bounds when she saw the enemy silenced. " 'Tis httle harm that would 
 have done, if ye didn't take to screaming about it ; as if any man could 
 bear that ! You drove him away, my dear, just the way your own 
 mother did poor Major Cohlhayne — with hard crying — till he said " he'd 
 as soon go to a wake, as take tay in the house." And sure enough she 
 had to take up with your poor father, after ! Just so. I never knew 
 luck come of signals and signs. When the good thing's before you, help 
 yourself. My poor father used to say, ' Don't pass " the spirits," because 
 there's claret at the head of the table; who knows if it'll ever come 
 down to you ?' And there you are, now ! and glad enough you'd be to 
 take that curate I saw in Dublin with the smooth face ! this minute. 
 I don't blame you, as much as your poor foolish mother. She has 
 you, as she reared you. Bad luck to you for a plant!" cried she, as the 
 ingenious creeper insinuated itself among the meshes of her Limerick 
 lace collar. " Cary, just take this out for me;" but Gary was gone, and 
 her sister with her. Nor did Aunt Fanny know how long her eloquence 
 had been purely soliloquy. 
 
 She looked around her for a moment at the deserted battle-field, and 
 then slowly retired. 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 "No" is the feminine of "Yes!" 
 
 Hungarian Proverb, 
 
 Bad as the weather is — and certainly even in Ireland a more drench- 
 ing, driving-down pouring rain never fell, we must ask of our readers 
 to follow Cashel, who, at a slapping gallop rode on, over grass and til- 
 lage, now, careering lightly over the smooth sward, now, sweltering along 
 heavily through deep ground, regardless of the pelting storm, and 
 scarcely noticing the strong fences which, at every instant, tried the 
 stride and strength of his noble horse. • 
 
 If his speed was headlong, his seat was easy, and his hand as steady 
 as if lounging along some public promenade ; his features, however, 
 were flushed, partly from the beating rain, but more from a feverish ex- 
 citement that showed itself in his flashing eye and closely compressed 
 hp. More than once, in crossing a difficult leap, his horse nearly fell, 
 and although half on the ground, and only recovering by a scramble, 
 he seemed not to heed the accident. At last he arrived at the tall oak 
 
 2f2 
 
4S<5 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 paling which fenced the grounds of the cottage, and where it was his 
 wont to halt and fasten his horse. Now, however, he rode fiercely at it, 
 clearing the high leap with a tremendous spring, and alighting on the 
 trimly-kept grass-plat before the door. 
 
 A slight faint shriek was heard as the horse dashed past the window, 
 and, pale with terror, Mary Leicester stood in the porch. 
 
 Cashel had meanwhile dismounted, and given his horse to the old 
 gardener. 
 
 " Not hurt, Mr. Cashel ?" said she, trying to seem composed, while 
 she trembled in every limb. 
 
 " Not in the least. I never intended to have alarmed you, however." 
 
 *' Then it was no run-away !" said she, essaying a smile. 
 
 " I'm ashamed to say I have not that excuse for so rudely trampling 
 over your neat sward. Will Mr. Corrigan forgive me ?" 
 
 *' Of course he will, if he even ever knows that he has anything to 
 forgive ; but it so happens, that he has gone into the village to-day — an 
 excursion he has not made for nigh a year. He wished to consult our 
 friend the Doctor on some matter of importance, and I half suspect 
 he may have stayed to share his dinner.'^ 
 
 As Miss Leicester continued to make this explanation, they had 
 reached the drawing-room, which, to Cashel's amazement, exhibited 
 tokens of intended departure. Patches here and there on the walls 
 showed where pictures had stood. The book-shelves were empty, the 
 tables displayed none of those little trifling objects which denote daily 
 life and its occupations, and his eye wandered over the sad-looking 
 scene till it came back to her, as she stood reading his glances, and 
 seeming to re-echo the sentiment they conveyed. 
 
 " All this would seem to speak of leave-taking," said Cashel, in a 
 voice that agitation made thick and guttural. 
 
 " It is so,*' said she, with a sigh ; " we are going away." 
 
 " Going away!"' simple as the words are, we have no sadder sounds 
 in our language. They have the sorrowful cadence that bespeaks deser- 
 tion. They ring through the heart like a knell over long past hap- 
 piness. They are the requiem over " friends no more," and of times that 
 never can come back again. 
 
 "Going away !" how dreary does it sound; as if life had no fixed desti- 
 nation in future, but that we were to drift over its bleak ocean, the 
 " waifs" of what we once had been. 
 
 " Going away !" cried Cashel ; " but surely you have not heard — " He 
 stopped himself; another word ! and his secret had been revealed — the 
 secret, he had so imperatively enjoined Tiernay to keep ; for it was his 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 437 
 
 intention to have left Ireland for ever ere Mr. Corrigan should have 
 learned the debt of gratitude he owed him. It is true, indeed, that one 
 night of sleepless reflection had suggested another counsel, but had not 
 altered his desire that the mystery should be preserved. 
 
 He was confused, therefore, at the peril he had so narrowly escaped, 
 and for a moment was silent; at length he resumed, in a tone of assumed 
 ease, 
 
 " Going away! sounds to one like me, who have lived a life of wander- 
 ing, so like pleasure, that I always associate it with new scenes of 
 enjoyment. I think all the sorrow is reserved for those who remain 
 behind — the deserted." 
 
 "So it may," said she, " with those who, like yourself, have roamed the 
 world in the excitement of ardent youth, glorying in enterprise, thirsting 
 for adventure ; but there are others, ourselves, formstance, whose humble 
 fortunes have linked them with one class of scenes and objects, till 
 they have grown part of our very natures; so, that we only know the 
 Avorld, as it is associated with things familiar to dally use. There are 
 doubtless plants of more gorgeous foliage and fairer flowers in 
 other countries, but, we shall never learn to look at them as we do upon 
 these that speak to us of home, of spring and summer, when they 
 gladdened ns, of autumn and winter, when our culture cared for them. 
 There are sunsets more rich and glowing, but If we see them, it will be 
 to think of that sinking orb which sent its last rays over that wide river 
 and Ut up in a golden glory this little chamber. There's not a charm 
 the fairest clime can own but will have its highest merit in recalling 
 some humble scene that tells of ' home.' " 
 
 *^I never could leave a spot so dear to me as this were!" cried 
 Cashel, who watched with ecstacy the impassioned beauty of her 
 features. 
 
 " Do not say that,'' said she, seriously. " We can all of us do what 
 we ought, however it may try our courage. Yes, I say courage," said 
 she, smiling, "since I fancy it Is a property you have a due respect for. 
 If we leave scenes so dear to us as these, it is because we feel it a duty; 
 and, a duty fulfilled, is a buckler against most sorrows. But we are 
 wandering into a very sad theme — at least, to judge from your grave 
 looks. What news have you of your gay company?"' 
 
 "I see but little of them," said Cashel, abruptly. 
 
 " What a strange host ! — and how do they amuse themselves ?" 
 
 "As they fancy, I believe. I only know I never interfere with 
 them, and they are kind enough to reciprocate the civility, and, so, we 
 get on admirably." 
 
438 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 "I must say this scarcely speaks well for either party," said she, 
 laughing. 
 
 *' I fear not ; but it is true, notwithstanding." 
 
 " You have a most accomplished friend, I believe ?" 
 
 " Linton. Do you mean Linton ?" 
 
 " Yes. He must be an excellent counsellor in all difficulties?" 
 
 Cashel did not look as if he concurred in the sentiment, but he said 
 nothing ; and Mary, half fearing that she had unwittingly given pain, 
 was silent also. She was the first to speak : 
 
 " Do you know, Mr. Cashel, how I passed the morning ? — you'd 
 scarcely guess. It was in writing a long letter ; so long, indeed, that I 
 began to fear, like many efforts of over-zeal, it might defeat itself and 
 never get read ; and that letter was — to you .'" 
 
 " To me I where is it, then?" 
 
 " There !" said she, pointing to some charred leaves beneath the grate. 
 " I see your curiosity, and I have no pretension to trifle with it. But, 
 last night, late, Papa dictated to me a long sermon, on your account ; 
 premising, that the impertinence was from one you should never see again; 
 and one, who, however indiscreet in his friendship, was assuredly sincere 
 in it. Were the document in existence, I should probably not have to 
 utter so many apologies ; for, on the whole, it was very flattering to 
 
 you." 
 
 " And why is it not so?" cried Cashel, eagerly. 
 
 " I cannot tell you why." 
 
 " Do you mean, that you do not wish to tell, or do not know the 
 reason ?" 
 
 " I do not know the reason," said she, firmly. " I was ill, slightly 
 ill, this morning, and could not breakfast with Papa. It was late when 
 I arose, and he was on the very brink of starting for Drunkeeran ; he 
 seemed agitated and excited, and, after a few words of inquiry about 
 my health, he said — 
 
 " That letter, Mary, have you written it ? Well, burn it. Throw it 
 into the fire, at once." 
 
 " I did so ; but I cannot conceal from you the deep interest he has 
 taken in your fortunes — a feeling which the dread of offending has 
 possibly sentenced him to cherish in secret. At least, so I read his 
 change of intention." 
 
 " I had hoped he knew me better," said Cashel, in whose voice a 
 feeling of disappointment might be traced. "It is the misfortune of 
 men like myself to make the most unfavourable impression, where, alone, 
 they are anxious for the opposite. Now, it may seem very uncourteous, 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 439 
 
 but I am less than indifferent what the fair company yonder think of 
 me ; and yet, I would give much to stand high in Mr. Corrigan's 
 esteem." 
 
 " And you do so, believe me," cried she, her eagerness moved by the 
 evident despondency of his manner ; "he speaks of you with all the 
 interest of a father." 
 
 " Do not say that," cried Cashel, in a voice tremulous with anxiety ; 
 " do not say so, if you mean not to encourage hopes I scarcely dare 
 to cherish." 
 
 His look and manner, even more than his words, startled her ; and 
 she stared at him, uncertain what reply to make. 
 
 " I never knew a father, nor, have I ever tasted a mother's affec- 
 tion. I have been one of whom Fortune makes a plaything, as if to 
 show how much worldly prosperity can consort with a desolate con- 
 dition, and a heart for which none have sympathy. I had hoped, 
 however, to attach others to me. I joined in pursuits that were not 
 mine, to endeavour to render myself companionable. I fell in with 
 habits that were uncongenial, and tastes that I ever disliked ; but 
 without success. I might be, * the dupe,' but never, the ^ friend.' I could 
 have borne much — I did bear much — to win something that resem- 
 bled cordiaHty and esteem ; but, all in vain ! When I lived the 
 wild life of a Columbian sailor, I deemed that such men as I 
 now associate with, must be the very types of Chivalry, and I longed 
 to be of them, and among them. Still, the reproach lies not at their 
 door. They, stepped not out of their sphere to act a part — 7, did ; 
 mine was all the sycophancy of imitation. The miserable cant of 
 fashion formed all my code. But for this, I might have won good 
 men's esteem — but for this, I might have learned what duties attach to 
 fortune and station such as mine ; and now I see the only one, from 
 whom I hoped to gain the knowledge, about to leave me !" 
 
 " This despondency is ill-judging and unfair," said Mary, in a kind 
 tone. " You did, perhaps, choose your friends unwisely, but you judge 
 them unjustly, too. They, never dreamed of friendship in their 
 intercourse with you ; they, only thought of that companionship which 
 men of the same age and fortune expect to meet in each other. If 
 less worldly-wise, or more generous than themselves, they deemed 
 that they once had paid for their skill and cleverness ; and so should 
 you. Remember, that you put a value upon their intimacy which it 
 never laid claim to, and that they were less false than were you self- 
 deceived." 
 
 " Be it so," said Cashel, hastily. " I care little where the delusion 
 
440 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 began. I meant honestly, and if they played not on the square with me, 
 the fault be theirs ; but that is not what I would speak of, nor what 
 brought me here to-day. I came to throw my last stake for happiness." 
 He paused, and took her hand in his. " I came," said he — and his lips 
 trembled as he spoke—" I came, to ask you to be my wife !" 
 
 Mary withdrew her hand, which he had scarcely dared to press, and 
 leaned upon the chimney-piece without speaking. It rarely happens that 
 such an announcement is made to a young lady quite unexpectedly ; 
 such was, however, the case here : for nothing, was she less prepared ! 
 Cashel, it is true, had long ceased to be indifferent to her ; the evenings 
 of his visits at the cottage were sure to be her very happiest; his absences 
 made dreary blanks. The inartificial traits of his character had at first 
 inspired interest ; his generous nature, and his manly leanyig to right, 
 had created esteem of him. There were passages of romantic interest in 
 his former life which seemed so well to suit his bold and dashing inde- 
 pendence ; and there was also an implicit deference, an almost humility, 
 in the obedience he tendered to her grandfather, which spoke much for 
 one whom sudden wealth and prosperity might be supposed to have 
 corrupted. Yet, all this while, had she never thought of what impression 
 she herself was making. 
 
 " I have but one duty," said she at last, in a faint whisper. 
 
 " Might I not share it with you, Mary ?" said he, again taking her 
 hand between his own; "you would not grudge me some part of his 
 affection ?" 
 
 " Who crossed the window there ?" cried she, starting ; " did you not 
 see a figure pass ?" 
 
 " No, I saw no one — I thought of none save you." 
 
 " I am too much frightened to speak. I saw some one stop before the 
 window and make a gesture, as if threatening — I saw it in the glass." 
 
 Cashel immediately hurried from the room, and passing out, searched 
 through the shrubberies on either side of the cottage, but, without suc- 
 cess. On examining closely, however, he could detect the trace of recent 
 footsteps on the wet grass, but lost the direction on the gravel-walk ; 
 and it was in a frame of mind far from tranquil that he re-entered the 
 room. 
 
 " You saw no one ?" said she, eagerly. 
 
 " Not one." 
 
 " Nor any appearance of footsteps ?" 
 
 "Yes, I did, or fancied I did, detect such before the window; but 
 why should this alarm you, or turn your mind from what we spoke of? 
 Let me once more — " 
 
No" IS tlie feminine of "Yes " ! 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 441 
 
 " Not now — not now, I beg of you; a secret misgiving is over me, and 
 I am not generally a coward; but I have not collectedness to speak to 
 you as I ought. I would not wish to be unkind, nor would I yet deceive 
 you. This cannot be." 
 
 *< Cannot be, Mary ?" 
 
 " Do not ask me more, now. You are too generous to give pain ; 
 spare me, then, the suffering of inflicting it on you. I will tell you my 
 reasons ; you shall own them to be sufficient." 
 
 " When are we to meet again?" said Roland, as he moved slowly 
 towards the door. 
 
 " There it is again !" cried she, in a voice of actual terror ; and 
 Cashel opened the window and sprang out ; but even the slight delay in 
 unfastening the sash prevented his overtaking the intruder, whoever he 
 might be, while, in the abundance of evergreens about, search was cer- 
 tain to prove fruitless. 
 
 " Good-bye," said she, endeavouring to smile ; " you are too proud 
 and high of spirit, if I read you aright, to return ever to a theme like 
 this." 
 
 " I am humble enough to sue it out — a very suppliant," said he, pas- 
 sionately. 
 
 " I thought otherwise of you," said she, affecting a look of disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 " Think of me how you will, so that you know I love you," cried he, 
 pressing his lips to her hand ; and then, half-maddened by the conflict 
 in his mind, he hastened out, and mounting his horse, rode off ; not, in- 
 deed, at the mad speed of his coming, but slowly, and with bent-down 
 head. 
 
 Let a man be ever so little of a coxcomb, the chances are that he will 
 always explain a refusal of this kind on any ground rather than upon 
 that of his own unworthiness. It is either a case " of pre-engaged 
 affection," or some secret influence on the score of family and fortune, 
 and even this sophistry lends its balm to wounded self-love. Cashel, 
 unhappily for his peace of mind, had not studied in this school, and 
 went his way in deep despondency. Like many men who indulge but 
 seldom in self-examination, he never knew how much his affections were 
 involved till his proffer of them was refused. Now, for the first time, he 
 felt that; now, recognised what store he placed on her esteem, and, how 
 naturally he had turned from the wearisome dissipations of his own 
 house to the cheerful happiness of " the cottage." Neither could he 
 divest himself of the thought, that had Mary known him in his early 
 
442 " ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 and his only true character, that she might not have refused him, and 
 that he owed his failure to that mongrel thing which wealth had made 
 him. 
 
 " I never was intended for this kind of life," thought he. *' I am 
 driven to absurdities and extravagances to give it any character of 
 interest in my eyes, and then, I feel ashamed of such triviality. To live 
 among the rich, a man should be born among them — should have the 
 habits, the tastes, and the traditions. These, are to be imbibed from 
 infancy, but not acquired in manhood — at least, I, will not begin the 
 study." 
 
 He turned homeward, still slowly. The bell was ringing which called 
 the guests to dress for dinner as he reached a large open lawn before the 
 house, and for a moment he halted, muttering to himself, " How would 
 it be, now, were I to turn my horse's head and never re-enter that house? 
 How many are there, of all my Mear friends' who would ever ask what 
 befelme?" 
 
 Arrived at the door, he passed up-stairs to his dressing-room, upon a 
 table of which he perceived a very small note, sealed with Lady Kilgoff's 
 initials. It was written in pencil, and merely contained one line— 
 " Come over to me, before dinner, for one minute. — L. K." 
 
 He had not seen her since the day before, when he had in vain sought 
 to overtake her in the wood ; and her absence from the dinner-table 
 had seemed to him, in pique, at his breach of engagement. Was this an 
 endeavour, then, to revive that strange relationship between them, which 
 took every form save love-making, but, was all the more dangerous on 
 that account ? Or, was it merely to take up some common-place plan 
 of amusement and pleasure — that mock importance given to trifles which, 
 as frequently, makes them cease to be trifles ? 
 
 Half careless as to what the invitation portended, and still pondering 
 over his failure, he reached her door and knocked. 
 
 " Come in," said she; and he entered. 
 
 Dressed for dinner with unusual taste and splendour, he had never 
 seen her look so beautiful. For some time back she had observed an 
 almost studied simplicity of dress, rarely wearing an ornament, and 
 distinguishing herself rather by a half Puritanism of style. The 
 sudden change to all the blaze of diamonds and the softening influence 
 of deep folds of lace, gave a brilliancy to her appearance quite magical ; 
 nor was CasheFs breeding proof against a stare of amazement and 
 admiration. 
 
 A deeper flush on her cheek acknowledged how she felt his confusion, 
 and hastening to relieve it, she said, 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 443 
 
 " I have but a moment to speak to you. It is almost seven o'clock. 
 You were at * the cottage' to-day ?" 
 
 " Yes," said Roland, his cheek growing scarlet as he spoke. 
 
 " And, doubtless, your visit had some object of importance. Nay, no 
 confessions. This is not curiosity on my part, but to let you know that 
 you were followed. Scarcely had you left this, when Linton set out 
 also, making a circuit by the wood, but at a speed which must have soon 
 overtaken you. He returned some time before you, at the same speed, 
 and entered by the back gate of the stables. From this window I could 
 see him each time." 
 
 "Indeed!" said Roland, remembering the figure Mary had seen 
 before the window. 
 
 " You know my opinion of this man already. He never moves 
 without a plan ; and, a plan, with him, is ever a treachery." 
 
 " He avoids me strangely ; we rarely meet now ; never by any 
 chance alone. And even before others there is a forced gaiety in his 
 manner, that all his artifice cannot pass off for real." 
 
 " Have you thwarted him in anything ?" 
 
 "Not that I know of." 
 
 " Have you refused him any favour that he sought for ?" 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " Is he your debtor for what he ought, but never means, to pay ?" 
 
 " Not even that. What I may have given him has been always 
 without any reserve or thought of restitution." 
 
 " Are your affections directed towards the same object ?" 
 
 As she said this, the ease in which she commenced gradually lef^ 
 her, and her cheek grew flushed ere she finished. 
 
 " I cannot tell. There are no confidences between us ; besides, a 
 very bankrupt in love could not envy my solvency. Mine is a heart 
 that cannot threaten dangerous rivalry." 
 
 " You cannot be certain of that !" said she, as if thinking aloud. 
 
 Fortunately, Cashel did not hear the words, but stood in deep reverie 
 for some seconds. 
 
 " There ! the second bell has rung ; I must leave you. My Lord 
 comes down to dinner to-day. It is by his orders that I am thus showily 
 dressed. Linton has been filling his mind with stories of some Embassy 
 he is to have, and we are already rehearsing 'our Excellencies!' I 
 have but time to say, Be on your guard ; Linton is no common enemyj 
 nor does it need an injury to make him one." 
 
 " It is very rude of me. I know, to interrupt so interesting a tete-a- 
 tete, but Mr. Cashel's cook has feelings also at stake." 
 
444 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 These words were spoken by Lord Kilgoff, who, in a tone of no 
 small irritation, now joined them. 
 
 " I was speaking" of your mission, my Lord." 
 
 " Which you forgot, of course, was not to be mentioned — even to 
 so sincere a well-wisher as Mr. Cashel." 
 
 "In any case, my Lord, it remains safe in my keeping." 
 
 "Very possibly, Sir; but, it is a poor earnest. Lady KilgofF gives 
 of her fitness as the wife of a ' Diplomatist.' " 
 
 Cashel gave his arm to Lady Kilgoff without speaking, and his 
 Lordship followed them slowly towards the dining-room. Linton 
 stood at the door as they entered, and his wan features grew flushed 
 as the haughty beauty moved past him with the very coldest of 
 recognitions. 
 
 " What an admirable taste is your Lordship's !" said he to the old 
 Peer; " Lady Kilgoff 's diamonds are disposed with an elegance that 
 bespeaks the guiding skill of a consummate artist." 
 
 " Ha ! you perceive it, then !" said he, smiling. " I own to you, the 
 festooning the robe with bouquets of brilliants was a fancy of mine, and 
 has, I think, a very pretty effect." 
 
 " Storr told me that he had not one person in his employment could 
 equal your Lordship in the harmonious arrangement of gems. He 
 mentioned a bracelet, if I remember aright, made from your own 
 designs, as the most beautifully chaste ornament he had ever seen." 
 
 " You must pronounce for yourself, Sir," said the old Lord, with a 
 smile of elated vanity; and so, taking Linton's arm, he approached 
 where Lady Kilgoff was seated in a group of ladies. 
 
 " Will you oblige me, Madam,'' said he, with a courteous bow, " by 
 showing Mr. Linton your ruby and opal bracelet, which I had the poor 
 merit of designing ?" 
 
 " I am unfortunate enough not to have it here," replied she, with a 
 confusion which made the blood mount to her temples. 
 
 " I am grieved, Madam, it should not enjoy the honour of your pre- 
 ference," said Lord Kilgoff with an air of pique. " Will you order your 
 maid to fetch it ?" 
 
 " I've not got it, my Lord," said she, colouring still deeper. 
 
 "Not got it, Madam! you do not mean to imply — " 
 
 " Only that it is slightly broken — a few stones have fallen out, and I 
 have sent it to be repaired." 
 
 " To be repaired, Madam ! and without my knowledge! To whom, 
 pray ?" 
 
 " That man in Dublin ; I forget his name." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 445 
 
 "Your Ladyship means Leonard, I presume," interposed Linton, with 
 an air of courtesy, while, plainer than any words, his glance said, "My 
 revenge is coming !" 
 
 "Leonard!" exclaimed Lord Kilgoff, with a look of horror. "Give 
 Leonard that bracelet ! the mould of which I refused to the Princess of 
 Hohenhoffingen, and which I made Storr destroy in my own presence !" 
 
 "You perceive, my Lord," cried Lady Janet, " her Ladyship is less 
 exclusive than you are." 
 
 " And generous enough to admire what may belong to another," added 
 Linton, but in a tone only audible by Lady Kilgoff. 
 . " We have got a few minutes before dinner, Madam. I must beg 
 you will employ them in writing to Mr. Leonard to return the bracelet 
 at once. Say it was a mistake upon your part— an inadvertence — and 
 done without my knowledge. Caution the man, too, about appropria- 
 ting any portion of the design, and remind him that articles of vcrtUy 
 are protected by the act of copyright." 
 
 "We had better delay the post-bag, my Lord," said Linton; "he 
 starts at seven precisely." 
 
 " Do so, Sir." 
 
 " Dinner !" cried the Butler, flinging wide the folding-doors. 
 
 " Could we delay that pleasant summons a few minutes, Mr. Cashel?" 
 said Lord Kilgoff. 
 
 " It will not be necessary on my account, Sir ; 1 11 write to-morrow." 
 And this she said with an air of haughty defiance that never failed to 
 subdue the old peer's petulance, and then, accepting Cashel's arm, moved 
 on without a word. 
 
 "Where is it? that's the question!" whispered IVIrs. White to Lady 
 Janet. 
 
 "Take you two to one it's not at Leonard's," said Froblsher. 
 
 " Give you an even fifty Linton knows all about it," replied Upton. 
 
 " And ten to two that he'll never tell!" chimed in Miss Meek ; and 
 so they took their places at the table. 
 
446 ROLAKD CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 I could, an' I would, Sir Harry. 
 
 Old Play. 
 
 While the gay company at Tubbermore dined sumptuously, and en- 
 joyed the luxuries of a splendid table with no other alloy to their plea- 
 sure than the ennui of people whose fastidiousness has grown into 
 malady, Mr. Corrigan sat in council at the cottage with his ancient ally, 
 the Doctor. There was an appearance of constraint over each — very 
 unusual with men who had been friends from boyhood ; and in their 
 long pauses, and short, abrupt sentences, might be read the absence 
 of that confiding spirit which had bound them so many years like 
 brothers. 
 
 It may be in the reader's recollection that, while Corrigan was pledged 
 to secrecy by Linton respecting his revelations of Casbel, Tiernay was 
 equally bound by Roland not to divulge any of his plans for the old man's 
 benefit. Perhaps it was the first time in the life of either that such a 
 reserve had been practised. Certainly, it weighed heavily upon both ; 
 and more than once were they coming to the fatal resolve to break their 
 vows, and then some sudden thought — some unknown dread of discon- 
 certing the intentions of those who trusted them— would cross their 
 mind, and after a momentary struggle, a half cough, and muttered, 
 " Well ! well !" they would relapse into silence, each far too occupied 
 by himself to note the other's embarrassment. 
 
 It was after a long time and much thought that Corrigan perceived, 
 however pledged to Linton not to speak of Cashel's conduct respecting 
 the cottage, that he was in no wise bound to secrecy regarding the pro- 
 posal for Mary Leicester's hand ; and this was, indeed, the topic on 
 which he was most desirous of the Doctor's counsel. 
 
 " I have a secret for you, Tiernay," said the old man, at length ; 
 " and it is one which will surprise you. I have had an oflPer this morn- 
 ing for Mary ! Aye ; just so. You often told me that nothing but this 
 life of isolation and retirement would have left her with me so long ; but 
 the thought of losing her — the tangible, actual dread — never presented 
 itself before this day !" 
 
 " Who is it ?" said Tiernay, shortly, but not without evident agitation 
 of manner. 
 
 " One who has never enjoyed much of your favour, Tiernay, and 
 whom I suspect you have judged with less than your habitual fairness." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 447 
 
 " I know the man. Linton ?" 
 
 " It was Linton." 
 
 *' And he actually made this proposition ?" said Tiernay, with an ex- 
 pression of the most unbounded surprise in his features. 
 
 *' To me, myself, in this room, he made it." 
 
 " He asked you what her fortune would be ?" said Tiemay, gruffly. 
 
 " He did not ; he told me of his own ; he said, that by a recent event 
 he had become possessed of sufficient property to make him indifferent 
 to the fortune of whoever he might marry. He spoke sensibly and well 
 of his future career, of the plans he had conceived, and the rules he 
 made for his own guidance ; he spoke warmly of her with whom he 
 wished to share his fortunes ; and lastly, he alluded in kind terms to 
 myself, dependent as I am upon her care, and living as I do upon her 
 affection. In a word, if there was not the ardour of a passionate lover, 
 there was what I augur better from — the sentiments of one who had 
 long reflected on his own position in life, who knew the world well, and 
 could be no mean guide amid its dangers and difficulties." 
 
 « Have you told Mary of this ?" 
 
 " I have not. My answer to Linton was, — ' Let me have time to 
 think over this proposal ; give me some hours of thought before I even 
 speak to my granddaughter ;' and he acceded at once." 
 
 " Good Heavens !" exclaimed Tiernay, rising and pacing the room. 
 " How inadequate are we two old men — removed from intercourse with 
 the world, neither players nor lookers-on at the game of life — to cope 
 with one like him, and see what he purposes to himself by this alliance ! 
 As for his affection, as for his power to feel her worth, to estimate the 
 gentle virtues of her spotless nature, I cannot, I will not believe it." 
 
 '•'And for that very reason are you unfit to judge him. Your pre- 
 judices, ever against him, are rendered stronger, because you cannot 
 divine motives black enough to suit your theory ; you give the benefit 
 of all your doubts against himself." 
 
 " I know him to be a gambler in its worse sense ; not one who plays 
 even for the gratification of those alternating vacillations of hope and 
 fear which jaded, worn-out natures resort to as the recompense for 
 blunted emotions and blasted ambitions, but a gambler for gain ! that 
 foul amalgam of the miser and the knave. I've seen him play the 
 sycophant, too ; like one who studied long his part, and knew it 
 thoroughly. No, no, Mat ; it is not one like this must be husband of 
 Mary !" 
 
 " I tell you again, Tiernay, you suffer your prejudices to outrun all 
 your prudence. The very fact that he asks in marriage a portionless 
 
448 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 girl, without influence from family, and without the advantage of station, 
 should outweigh all your doubts twice told." 
 
 " This does but puzzle me — nothing more," said Tiemay, doggedly. 
 " Were it Cashel, that high-hearted generous youth, who made this 
 offer — " 
 
 " I must stop you, Tiernay ; you are as much at fault in your over- 
 estimate of owe, as in your disparagement of the other, Cashel is not 
 what YOU deem him. Ask me not how I know it. I cannot — I dare not 
 tell you ; it is enough that I do know it, and know it by the evidence of 
 my own eyes." 
 
 " Then they have deceived you, that's all," said Tiemay, roughly ; 
 " for I tell you, and I speak now of what my own knowledge can sustain, 
 that he is the very soul of generosity — a generosity that would imply 
 recklessness, if not guided by the shrinking delicacy of an almost 
 girlish spirit." 
 
 " Tiernay, Tiernay, you are wrong, I say," cried Corrlgan, pas- 
 sionately. 
 
 <' And / say it is you who are in error," said Tiernay ; " it was but 
 this morning I held in my hands — " he stopped, stammered, and was 
 silent. 
 
 " Well," cried Corrigan, "go on; not that, indeed, you could convince 
 me against what my eyes have assured, for here, upon this table, I 
 beheld—" 
 
 " Out with it, man ! Tell what jugglery has been practised on you, for 
 I see you have been duped." 
 
 *' Hush ! here's Mary !" cried Corrigan, who, scarcely able to control 
 himself, now walked the room in great agitation. 
 
 " You were talking so loud," said Mary, " that I guessed you were 
 quarrelling about politics, and so T came to make peace." 
 
 " We were not, Mary ; but Tiernay is in one of his wrong-head 
 humours." 
 
 " And your Grandfather in the silliest of his foolish ones," exclaimed 
 Tiernay, as, snatching up his hat, he left the cottage. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 4^ 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 Like battle-trumps 
 The chaos of their tongues did drown reflection. 
 
 It might be thought that in a household so full of contrarieties as 
 Tubbermore, any new plan of pleasure would have met but a meagre 
 success. Here, -were the Kilgoffs, upon one side, full of some secret 
 importance, and already speaking of the uncertainty of passing the 
 spring in Ireland. There, were the Kennyfecks, utterly disorganised by 
 intestine troubles— mother, amit, and daughters at open war, and only 
 of one mind for some few minutes of each day, when they assailed the 
 luckless Kennyfeck as the " author of all evil ;" Frobisher, discontented 
 that no handicap could be " got up," to remunerate him for the weariness 
 of his exile ; Upton, suffering under the pangs of rejection ; Sir Andrew, 
 reduced to a skeleton by the treatment against his unhappy opiate, 
 being condemned, as " Jim " phrased it, to " two heavy sweats without 
 body clothes, and a drench every day ;" Meek grown peevish at the 
 little prospect of making anything of Cashel politically ; and Cashel 
 himself hipped and bored by all in turn, and wearied of being the head 
 of a house where the only pleasantry existed in the servants' hall — and 
 they were all rogues and thieves who made it. 
 
 It might be easily supposed these were not the ingredients which 
 would amalgamate into any agreeable union, and that even a suggestion 
 to that end would meet but few supporters. 
 
 Not so ; the very thought of doing " anything" was a relief : each felt, 
 perhaps, his share of shame at the general ennui, and longed for 
 whatever gave a chance of repelling it. It was as in certain political 
 conditions in seasons of general stagnation — men are willing even to 
 risk a revolution rather than continue in a state of unpromising 
 monotony. 
 
 Linton, w^hose own plans required that the others should be full of 
 occupation of one kind or other, was the first to give the impulse, by 
 reminding Miss Meek that her sovereignty had, up to this, been a dead 
 letter. 
 
 " You have positively done nothing," said he, " since your accession. 
 Here we are, all ready to do your bidding, only waiting for the shadow 
 of a wish on your part. There is no obstacle anywhere ; pray let us 
 commence a series of such right royal festivities as shall cause the envy 
 of every other sovereign in Christendom." 
 
 2g 
 
450 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 "I'm sure I wish for nothing better; but nobody minds me," said 
 she, pouting. 
 
 " What shall be the opening, then ?" said Linton, taking a sheet of 
 paper and seating himself, in all form, to write. " A masquerade ?" 
 
 "By all means ! A masquerade 1" exclaimed a dozen voices ; and at 
 once a large circle gathered round the table where he sat. 
 
 " Does the country afford materials for one ?" asked Jennings. 
 
 "Oh dear yes!" sighed Meek; "you could gather a great many 
 important people here by a little management." 
 
 ** I'll tell Macnevin, wha commands at Limerick, to send ye every 
 officer wha isn't under arrest," said Sir Andrew. 
 
 A speech received with great favour by vai'ious young ladies unknown 
 to the reader. 
 
 Every one who knew anything of the three neighbouring counties 
 was at once summoned to form part of a select committee to name those 
 who ought to be invited. The Chief Justice was acquainted with the 
 principal persons, from his having gone circuit ; but then, those he men- 
 tioned were rarely of the stamp to add lustre or brilliancy to a fancy ball ; 
 indeed, as Linton whispered, " The old judge had either hanged or 
 transported all the pleasant fellows." 
 
 The Infantry men from Limerick were familiar with every pretty girl 
 of that famed capital and its environs for some miles round; and as exclu- 
 siveness was not to be the rule, a very imposing list was soon drawn up. 
 
 Then came the question of receiving so large a party, and each vied 
 with his neighbour in generous sacrifices of accommodation ; even 
 Downie vouchsafed to say that the noise would be terrible, " but, one 
 ought to submit to anything to give pleasure to his friends." 
 
 The theatre should be the ball-room ; the two drawing-rooms and the 
 library would offer space for the company to promenade ; the buffet 
 stand in the dining-room; and supper be served in the great conserva- 
 tory, which, with its trellised vines all studded with Ughts disposed as 
 stars, would have a new and beautiful effect. 
 
 Sir Andrew promised two military bands, and unmarried officers a 
 discretion. 
 
 Devoted offers of assistance poured in from every side. Foraging 
 parties were " told off," to shoot snipe and woodcocks without ceasing ; 
 and Frobisher was to ply with'a four-in-hand — of Cashel's horses — to and 
 from Limerick every day, carrying everybody and everything that was 
 wanting. 
 
 All the servants of the guests, as well as of the house, were to be 
 attired in a costume, which, after some discussion, was decided to be 
 Spanish. 
 
 I 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 451 
 
 Unlimited facilities were to be at the disposal of all, for whatever they 
 pleased to order. Mrs. White sat down to write to Paris for an envoy 
 of moss-roses and camelllasj with a postscript from Upton on the subject 
 of red partridges and foie gras, 
 
 Jennings dictated a despatch to Mayence for two cases of Stelnberger ; 
 and Howie took notes of all for a series of papers, which in four diffe- 
 rent styles were to appear in four periodicals simultaneously. 
 
 As each guest was at full liberty to invite some half-dozen friends, 
 there was quite an excitement in comparing lists with each other, and 
 speculations innumerable as to the dress and character they would appear 
 in, for all were mysterious upon that head. 
 
 " But whar is Misther Cashel all this time ?" said Sir Andrew; " me- 
 thinks it wud na be vara polite na to hae his opinion upon a' this, syne 
 he must gie the siller for it." 
 
 "He's playing chess with Lady Kilgoff in the boudoir," said 
 Jennings. 
 
 " Tell Kennyfeck," said Frobisher ; "that's quite enough! Cashel 
 calls everjiihing where money enters— business, and hates it, in conse- 
 quence.'' 
 
 " Oh, dear ! I'm precisely of his mind, then," sighed Meek, caressing 
 his whiskers. 
 
 " Kilgoff will not remain, you'll see," said Upton. " He is not pleased 
 with my Lady's taste for close intimacy." 
 
 "The Kennyfecks are going to-morrow or next day," said another. 
 
 " So they have been every day this last week ; but if some of you 
 gentlemen will only be gallant enough to give a good reason for remain- 
 ing, they'll not stir." This was spoken by Lady Janet in her tartest of 
 voices, and with a steady stare at Upton, who stroked his moustaches in 
 very palpable confusion. " Yes, Sir Harvey," continued she, " I'm per- 
 fectly serious, and Mr. Linton, I perceive, agrees with me." 
 
 "As he always does. Lady Janet, when he desires to be in the 
 right," said Linton, bowing. 
 
 *'Aw — I, aw — I didn't think it was so easy in that quarter, aw!" 
 said Jennings, in a low semi-confidential tone. 
 
 " I'll insure you for a fair premium, Jennings, if you have any fancy 
 that way." 
 
 '* Aw, I don't know — concern looks hazardous — ha ! ha ! ha ! — don't 
 you think so ?" But as no nobody joined in his laughter, he resumed, 
 in a lower voice, " There's Upton's very spooney indeed about one of 
 them." 
 
 *' It's the aunt," said Linton, " a very fine woman too ; what the 
 French call a * beaute sevhe;* but classical, quite classical." 
 
 2 G 2 
 
452 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Confounded old harridan !" muttered Upton between his teeth ; 
 " I'd not take her with Rothschild's bank at her disposal.'* 
 
 All this little chit-chat was a thing got up by Linton, while station- 
 ing himself in a position to watch Cashel and Lady KilgofF, who sat, at 
 a chess-table, in an adjoining room. It needed not Linton's eagle 
 glance to perceive that neither was attentive to the game, but that they 
 were engaged in deep and earnest conversation. Lady Kilgoff's back 
 was towards him, but Roland's face he could see clearly, and watch the 
 signs of anger and impatience it displayed. 
 
 " A little more noise and confusion here," thought Linton, " and 
 they'll forget that they're not a hundred miles away ;" and acting on 
 this, he set about arranging the company in various groups ; and while he 
 disposed a circle of very fast-talking old ladies, to discuss rank and 
 privileges, in one corner, he employed some others in devising a 
 character quadrille, over which Mrs. White was to preside ; and then, 
 seating a young lady at the piano, one of those determined performers 
 who run a steeple-chase through waltz, polka, and mazurka, for hours 
 uninterruptedly, he saw that he had manufactured a very pretty chaos 
 " off-hand." 
 
 While hurrying hither and thither, directing, instructing, and ad- 
 vising every one, he contrived also, and as it were by mere accident, to 
 draw across the doorway of the boudoir the heavy velvet curtain that 
 performed the function of a door. The company were far too busied 
 in their various occupations to remark this ; far less was it perceived by 
 Lady Kilgoff or Roland. Nobody knew better than Linton how to 
 perform the part of fly-wheel to that complicated engine called society ; 
 he could regulate its pace to whatever speed he pleased ; and upon this 
 occasion he pushed the velocity to the utmost ; and, by dint of that 
 miraculous magnetism by which men of warm imagination and quick 
 fancy inspire their less susceptible neighbours, he spread the contagion 
 of his own merry humour, and converted the drawing-room into a scene 
 of almost riotous gaiety. 
 
 ** They want no more leadership now," said he, and slipped from the 
 room and hastened towards the library, where sat Lord KilgofiP, sur- 
 rounded by folios of Grotius and Puffendorf — less, indeed, for perusal 
 and study, than as if inhaling the spirit of diplomatic craft from their 
 presence. 
 
 " Nay, my Lord, this is too much," said he, entering with a smile ; 
 •* some relaxation is really necessary. Pray come and dissipate a little 
 with us in the drawing-room." 
 
 *' Don't lose my place, however," said he, smiling far more graciously 
 than his wont. " I was just considering that assertion of Grotius^ 
 
ROLAUD CASHEL. 453 
 
 wherein he lays it down that * a river is always objectionahle as a national 
 boundary-/ I dissent completely from the doctrine. A river has all the 
 significance of a natural frontier. It is the line of demarcation drawn 
 from the commencement of the world between different tracts, and at 
 once suggests separation." 
 
 " Very true, my Lord ; I see your observation in all its justice. A 
 river, in the natural world, is like the distinguishing symbol of rank in 
 the social, and should ever be a barrier against unwarrantable in- 
 trusion." 
 
 Lord Kilgoff smiled, tapped his snuff-box, and nodded as though to 
 say, " Continue.*' Linton understood the hint in this wise, and went on, — 
 
 " And yet, my Lord, there is reason to fear that, with individuals as 
 with nations, these demarcations are losing their ^ prestige.^ What 
 people call enlightenment and progress, now-a-days, is the mere negation 
 of these principles." 
 
 " Every age has thrown some absurd theory to the surface. Sir," said 
 Lord Kilgoflj proudly; " Southcotians, Mormons, and Radicals, among 
 the rest. But truth. Sir, has always the ascendancy in the long run. 
 Facts cannot be sneered down; and the Pyrenees and the EugHsh Peer- 
 age are facts, Mr. Linton, and similar facts, too !" 
 
 Linton looked like one who divided himself between rebuke and con- 
 viction — submissive, but yet satisfied. 
 
 " Give me your arm, Linton, I'm still very far from strong ; this 
 place disagrees with me. I fancy the air is rheumatic, and I am im- 
 patient to get away ; but the fact is, I have been lingering in the hope 
 of receiving some tidings from the Foreign Office, which I had rather 
 would reach me here, than at my own house." 
 
 '* Precisely, my Lord ; the request then has the air — I mean, it shows 
 you have been sought after by the Minister, and solicited to take office 
 when not thinking of the matter yourself." 
 
 " Quite so ; I open the despatch, as it may be, at the breakfast-table, 
 jocularly observing that it looks official, eh ?" 
 
 " Exactly, my Lord ; you even surmise that it may prove an appoint- 
 ment you have solicited for one of your numerous proteges — something 
 in the Colonies, or, the ' troop' — without purchase, in the Blues ?" 
 
 Lord Kilgoff laughed — for him, heartily — at Linton's concurrence in 
 his humour, and went on, — 
 
 " And when I open it, Linton, and read the contents, eh ?'' 
 
 Here he paused, as if asking what effect his astute friend would 
 ascribe to such pleasant tidings. 
 
 '* I think I see your Lordship tlirov/ the heavy packet from you with 
 a ' Pshaw!' of disappointment; while you mutter to your next neighbour, 
 
454 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 ' I have been warding off this these two or three last years, but there's 
 no help for it; the King- insists upon my taking the mission at 
 Florence!'" 
 
 " I must say, Mr. Linton, your conjecture strikes me as strained and 
 unnatural. The appointment to represent my august master at the 
 court of Tuscany might be a worthy object of any ambition. I cannot 
 agree with the view you take of it." 
 
 Linton saw that he had " charged too far," and hastened to secure his 
 retreat. 
 
 " I spoke, my Lord, rather with reference to your regret at quitting 
 the scenes of your natural influence at home, of withdrawing from this 
 distracted country the high example of your presence, the wisdom of 
 your counsels, the munificence of your charity. These are sad exports 
 at such a time as this!" 
 
 Lord Kilgoff sighed — he sighed heavily ; he knew Ireland had gone 
 through many trials and afflictions, but the dark future which Linton 
 pictured had never presented itself so full of gloom before. He doubtless 
 felt that, when he left the ship, she would not long survive the breakers ; 
 and, sunk in these reveries, he wall^ed along at Linton's side till they 
 gained the picture-gallery, at one extremity of which lay the boudoir 
 we have spoken of. 
 
 *' Poor things, my Lord !" said Linton, shrugging his shoulders as he 
 passed along, and casting a contemptuous glance at the apocryphal Van- 
 dykes and Murillos around, and for whose authenticity he had himself, in 
 nearly every case, been the guarantee. 
 
 Lord Kilgoff gave a fleeting look at them, but said nothing ; and 
 Linton, to occupy time, went on : — 
 
 " New men, like our friend here, should never aspire above the 
 Flemish school. Your Cuyps, and Hobbimas, and Vanderveldes, are 
 easily understood, and their excellences are soon learned. Even Mieris 
 and Gerard Dow are open to such connoisseurship ; but, to feel the calm 
 nobility of a Velasquez, the sublime dignity of a Vandyke, or the 
 glorious intellectuality of a Titian portrait, a man must be a born 
 gentleman, in its most exalted signification. What a perfect taste your 
 collection at Kilgoff displays ! All Spanish or Venetian, if I mistake not." 
 
 " Are we not like to disturb a tete-d-tetey Linton ?" said Lord Kilgoff, 
 nudging his friend's arm and laughing silly, as he pointed through the 
 large frame of plate-glass that formed a door to the boudoir. 
 
 *' By Jove !" said Linton, in a low whisper, " and so we were ! You 
 are always thoughtful, my Lord !" 
 
 " You know the adage, Linton, * An old poacher makes the best game- 
 keeper !' Ha, ha, ha !" 
 
Th e Clie s s Player s 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 455 
 
 "Ah, my Lord! I have heard as much of you. But Viho can they 
 be?" 
 
 " We shall soon see, for it is always better in these cases to incur 
 the rudeness of interruption than the meanness of espionnage ;" and so 
 saying, Lord Kilgoff opened the door and entered. Although in so 
 doing the noise he made might easily have attracted notice, the chess- 
 players, either deep in their preoccupation, or habituated to the uproar 
 of the drawing-room, paid no attention, so that it was only as he ex- 
 claimed " Lady Kilgoff!" that both started, and beheld him, as, pale 
 with passion, he stood supporting himself on the back of a chair. 
 
 " Pray don't stir, Sir ; be seated, I beg," said he, addressing Cashel, 
 in a voice that shook with anger; "my interruption of your game was 
 pure accident." 
 
 " No apologies, my Lord ; we are both but indifferent players," said 
 Cashel, smiling, but yet very far from at ease. 
 
 " Your seclusion at least bespeaks the interest you feel in the game. 
 Mr. Linton and I can vouch — " (Here his Lordship turned to calljiis 
 ■witness, but he had left the court, or, more properly speaking, had never 
 entered it.) 
 
 " Linton here ?" said Lady Kilgoff, in a voice which, though scarce a 
 whisper, was actually thrilling in the intensity of its meaning. 
 
 " I hope, Sir, when you have lived somewhat more in the world, you 
 will learn that the first duty of a host is not to compromise a guest." 
 
 " I am most willing to be taught by your Lordship's better knowledge; 
 but if I am to benefit by the lesson in the present case, it must be more 
 clearly expressed," said Cashel, calmly. 
 
 *' As for you. Madam," said Lord Kilgoff, " I cannot compliment you 
 on the progress you have made in acquiring the habits and instincts of 
 * your order.' " 
 
 " My Lord !" exclaimed she, and then, with a countenance wherein 
 rebuke and entreaty were blended, she stopped. 
 
 " I am aware, Sir, what eclat young gentlemen now-a-days derive 
 from the supposed preference of individuals of exalted rank; and I would 
 hope that your vanity may be most in fault, here." 
 
 " My Lord, one word — only one," said Cashel, eagerly ; '* I am sadly 
 afflicted with the infirmity of hot temper, which never gives way more 
 surely, nor more suddenly, than when accused wTongfully. Such is 
 your Lordship doing at present. I would entreat you not to say, what a 
 very little calm reflection will call upon you to retract." 
 
 *' This concerns me, Sir, most of all," said Lady Kilgoff, rising and 
 drawing herself proudly up. " These unworthy suspicions had never 
 occurred to you, had they not been prompted ; but you might have be- 
 
456 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 lieved that when I sacrificed all I have done, for that rank of which so 
 incessantly you remind me, that I would not rashly hazard the position 
 
 for which I paid so dearly Let us leave this now, my Lord ; Mr. 
 
 Cashel can scarcely desire a presence that has so ungratefully rewarded 
 his hospitality, and I, at least, shall be spared the mortification of meet- 
 ing one who has been a witness to such an outrage." 
 
 " This is not to end here. Sir," said Lord Kilgoff, in a whisper to 
 Cashel, who, more intent upon the words Lady Kilgoff had just uttered, 
 carelessly answered, 
 
 " As you will." 
 
 *' Good-bye, Mr. Cashel," said she, holding out her hand ; " I wish I 
 was leaving a better souvenir behind me than the memory of this last 
 scene." 
 
 " I will never remember it. Madam," said Cashel ; " but, I would beg 
 that you may not let an incident so trivial, so perfectly devoid of every 
 thing like importance, hasten your going. Nothing save malevolence 
 and calumny could suggest any other impression, and I would beseech 
 you not to favour by such a step as a hasty departure, the malice that 
 scandal -lovers may circulate." 
 
 " This is matter for my consideration, Sir," said Lord Kilgoff, 
 haughtily, while, drawing Lady Kilgoff's arm within his own, he 
 made a vigorous attempt to move away with dignity. 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 Is he not too old for such gambols?— Sik Raymond. 
 
 Cashel was in no mood to join his company after such a scene, and 
 hastening upstairs, he entered his dressing-room. What was his sur- 
 prise to see that Linton was seated in an easy -chair before the fire, en- 
 joying a cigar and a new novel, with all the cool negligence of his 
 unrufiled nature. 
 
 " At last!" cried he, as Cashel entered. " I have been waiting here 
 most impatiently to know how you got through it." 
 
 "Through what? — how — what do you mean ?" 
 
 " That affair with Kilgoff. I slipped away when I saw that he 
 would enter the boudoir, after having coughed and sneezed like a 
 grampus, in the hope of attracting your attention; but you were so 
 confoimdedly engrossed by my Lady's agreeability — so excessively 
 tender — " 
 
EOLAKD CASHEL. 457 
 
 " Linton, I must stop you at once. I may barter some of my own 
 self-respect for quietness' sake, and let you talk this way of me, but you 
 shall not do so of another." 
 
 ** Hang it, man, she is an older friend than yourself. I have known 
 her these seven years — as little more than a child." 
 
 " Your friendship would seem a costly blessing, if you understand 
 its duties always in this fashion." 
 
 " I hope it will admit of a little frankness, at all events," said 
 he, affecting a laugh. '• It will be too bad if you both fall out with me 
 for watching over your interests." 
 
 " I don't understand you." 
 
 " I will be plain enough. I have seen for many a day back what 
 has been going on. I perceived the very commencement of the mis- 
 chief, when probably neither she nor you dreamed of it ; and, resigning 
 all the esteem that years had cemented between us, I spoke to her. 
 Aye, Roland, I told her what would happen. I said, that qualities like 
 yours could not be brought every day into contrast with those of poor 
 Kilgoff without most unhappy comparisons. I explained to her, that if 
 she did form an attachment to you, it could not be one of those 
 passing flirtations that an easy code of fashion admits and sanc- 
 tions ; that you were a fellow whose generous nature could never 
 descend to such heartless levity, and that there was no sacrifice of 
 position and prospect you would hesitate to make for a woman that 
 loved you; and I asked her flatly, would she bring such ruin upon you ? 
 The greater fool myself; I ought to have known better. She not 
 only refused to listen to me, but actually resented my attempted 
 kindness by actual injury. I don't want to speak of myself here, 
 so I'll hasten on. It was all but a cut between us, for months 
 before we met here. You may remember, in Dublin, we rarely even 
 spoke to each other ; we, who once had been like brother and sister ! 
 
 " Well, before she was a week here, I saw that the danger I had 
 dreaded so long, was hourly becoming more imminent. You, very pos- 
 sibly, had not a serious thought upon the matter, but she had actually 
 fallen in love ! I suppose you must have played hero, at that ship- 
 wreck, in some very chivalrous fashion ; however it was, my Lady 
 had lost her heart, precisely at the same time that his Lordship had 
 lost his head — leaving you, I conjecture, ia a very awkward dilemma. 
 Seeing there was no time to lose, and resolving to sacrifice myself 
 to save her, I made one more eflbrt. I'll not weary you with a narra- 
 tive of my eloquence, nor repeat any of the ten-thousaud-and-one 
 reasons I gave, for her shunning your society, and, if need were, leaving 
 your house. The whole ended as I ought to have foreseen it would — 
 
458 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 in an open breach between us ; she, candidly avowing that she would 
 be my deadly enemy through life, and even procure a personal rupture 
 between you and me, if pushed to it, by my ^ impertinent importunity,' 
 so, she called it. I own to you I was completely dumbfounded by this. 
 I knew that she had courage for anything, and that, if she did care for 
 a man, there would be a recklessness in the course she would follow that 
 would defy guidance or direction, and so, I abstained from any further 
 interference; and, as you may have remarked yourself, I actually 
 estranged myself from you." 
 
 "I did remark that," said Cashel, gravely. 
 
 "Well, to-night, when by mere accident Kilgoff and I had sauntered 
 into the gallery and came upon you in the boudoir, I own frankly I was 
 not sorry for it ; unpleasant as such scenes are, they are better — a 
 hundred thousand times better — than the sad consequences they anti- 
 cipate ; and even should anything take place personally, I'd rather see 
 you stand Kilgoff 's fire at ' twelve paces ' than be exposed to the flash 
 of my Lady's eye at ' one.' " 
 
 *' Your friendly zeal," said Cashel, with a very peculiar emphasis on 
 the words, " would seem to have got the upper hand of your habitually 
 sharp perception ; there was nothing to fear in any part of my intimacy 
 with Lady Kilgoff. I have been but too short a time conversant with 
 fashionable life to forget more vulgar habits, and, among them, that 
 which forbids a man to pay his addresses to the wife of another. I need 
 not vindicate her Ladyship ; that she has taken a warm, I shame not 
 to say, an affectionate interest in my fortunes, may have been imprudent. 
 I know not what your code admits of or rejects, but, her kindness 
 demands all my gratitude, and, if need be, the defence that a man of 
 honour should always be ready to offer for the cause of truth." 
 
 " Don't you perceive, Cashel, that all you are saying only proves what 
 I have been asserting — that, while you are actually ignorant of your 
 danger, the peril is but the greater ? I repeat it to you, however intact 
 t/our heart may be, hers is in your keeping. I know this ; nay, I say it 
 advisedly — don't shake your head and look so confident — I repeat it, I 
 know this to be the case." 
 
 " You know it ?" said Cashel, as though Linton's words had startled 
 his convictions. 
 
 " I /mow it, and I'll prove it, but upon one condition, your word of 
 honour as to secrecy." Cashel nodded, and Linton went on. " Some 
 short time back, some one, under the shelter of the anonymous, wrote 
 her a letter, stating that they had long watched her intimacy with you — 
 grieving over it, and regretting that she should have yielded any portion 
 of her affection to one, whose whole life had been a series of deceptions ; 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 459 
 
 that your perjuries in Love's Court were undeniable, and that you were 
 actually married, legally and regularly married, to a young Spanish 
 girl." 
 
 " Was this told her ?" said Cashel, gasping for breath. 
 
 " Yes, the very name was given — Maritafia, if I mistake not. — Is 
 there such a name ?" 
 
 Cashel bent his head slightly in assent. 
 
 " How, you had deserted this poor girl after having won her affec- 
 tions — " 
 
 " This is false, Sir ; every word of it false," said Cashel, purple with 
 passion ; "nor will I permit any man to drag her name before this 
 world of slanderers in connexion with such a tale. Great Heaven ! what 
 hypocrisy it is to have a horror for the assassin and the cut-throat, and 
 yet, give shelter, in your society, to those who stab character and poison 
 reputation ! I tell you. Sir, that among those buccaneers you have so 
 often sneered at, you'd not meet one base enough for this." 
 
 " I think you are too severe upon this kind of transgression, Cashel," 
 said Linton, calmly. " It is as often prompted by mere idleness as malice. 
 The great mass of people in this life have nothing to do, and they go 
 wrong, just for occupation. There may have been — there generally is — 
 a little grain of truth amid all the chaff of fiction ; there may, there- 
 fore, be a young lady whose name was — " 
 
 " I forbid you to speak it. I knew her, and, girl as she was, she 
 was not one to suffer insult in her presence, nor shall it be offered to her 
 in her absence." 
 
 *' My dear fellow, your generous warmth should not be unjust, or 
 else you will find few friends willing to incur your anger in the hope of 
 doing you service. I never believed a word of this story. Marriage — 
 adventure — even the young lady's identity, I deemed all fictions 
 together." 
 
 Cashel muttered something he meant to be apologetic for his rude- 
 ness, and Linton was not slow in accepting even so unwilling a re- 
 paration. 
 
 " Of course I think no more of it," cried he, with affected cordiality. 
 " I was going to tell you how Lady Kilgoff received the tidings — 
 exactly the very opposite to what her kind correspondent had intended. 
 It actually seemed to encourage her in her passion, as though there was 
 a similarity in your cases. Besides, she felt, perhaps, that she was not 
 damaging your future career, as it might be asserted she had done, 
 were you unmarried. These are mere guesses on my part. I own to 
 you, I have little skill in reading the Macchiavelism of a female heart ; 
 
460 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 the only key to its mystery I know of is, ' always suspect what is least 
 likely.' " 
 
 " And I am to sit down patiently under all this calumny !" said 
 Cashel, as he walked the room with hasty steps. " I am perhaps to 
 receive at my table those whose amusement it is so to sport with my 
 character and my fame !" 
 
 *' It is a veiy naughty world, no doubt of it," said Linton, lighting a 
 fresh cigar ; " and the worst of it is, it tempts one always to be as 
 roguish as one's neighbours, for very self-preservation." 
 
 " You say I am not at liberty to speak of this letter to Lady 
 Kilgoff ?" 
 
 " Of course not ; I am myself a defaulter in having told the matter 
 to you." 
 
 Cashel paced the room hurriedly ; and what a whirlwind of opposing 
 thoughts rushed through his brain ! for while at times all Lady Kilgoff^s 
 warnings about Linton, all his own suspicions of his duplicity and deceit, 
 were uppermost, there was still enough in Linton's narrative, were it 
 true, to account for Lady Kilgoff 's hatred of him. The counsels he 
 had given, and she rejected, were enough to furnish a feud for ever 
 between them. At which side lay the truth ? And then, this letter 
 about Maritafia — who was the writer ? Could it be Linton himself ? 
 and if so, would he have ventured to allude to it ?" 
 
 These thoughts harassed and distressed him at every instant, and in 
 his present feeling towards Linton he could not ask his aid to solve the 
 mystery. 
 
 Now, he was half disposed to charge him with the whole slander ; his 
 passion prompted him to seek an object for his vengeance, and the 
 very cool air of indifference Linton assumed was provocative of anger. 
 The next moment, he felt ashamed of such intemperate warmth, and 
 almost persuaded himself to tell him of his proposal for Mary Leicester, 
 and thus, prove the injustice of the suspicion about Lady Kilgoff. 
 
 "There's a tap at the door, I think," said Linton. " I suppose, if 
 it's Frobisher, or any of them, you'd rather not be bored ?" And, as 
 if divining the answer, he arose and opened it. 
 
 "Lord Kilgoff 's compliments, and requests Mr. Linton will come 
 over to his room," said his Lordship's valet. 
 
 "Very well," said Linton, and closed the door. "What can the 
 old Peer want at this time of night. Am I to bring a message to you, 
 Cashel?" 
 
 Cashel gave an insolent laugh. 
 
 " Or shall I tell him the story of Davoust at Hamburgh, when the 
 
kola:n^d cashel. 461 
 
 Syndicate accused him of peculating, and mentioned some millions that 
 he had abstracted from the treasury. ' All untrue, gentlemen,' said 
 he, ' I never heard of the money before, but since you have been polite 
 enough to mention the fact, 111 not show myself so ungrateful as to 
 forget it.' Do you think Kilgoff would see the apropos T' 
 
 With this speech, uttered in that half-jocular mood habitual to him, 
 Linton left the room, while Cashel continued to ponder over the late 
 scene, and its probable consequences ; not the least serious of which 
 was, that Linton was possessor of his secrets. Now, thinking upon what 
 he had just heard of Lady Kilgoff — now, picturing to himself how Mary 
 Leicester would regard his pledge to Maritana, he walked impatiently 
 up and down, when the door opened and Linton appeared. 
 
 "Just as I surmised!" said he, throwing himself into a chair, and 
 laughing heartily. " My Lord will be satisfied with nothing but a duel 
 * a la mort' " 
 
 " I see no cause for mirth in such a contingency," said Cashel, gravely ; 
 '' the very rumour of it would ruin Lady Kilgoff." 
 
 '' That of course is a grave consideration," said Linton, affecting 
 seriousness, "but it is still more his than yours." 
 
 '' He is a dotard !" said Cashel, passionately, '' and not to be thought 
 of. She is young, beautiful, and unprotected. Her fortune is a hard 
 one already, nor is there any need to make it still more cruel." 
 
 *' I half doubt she would think it so 1" said Linton, with an air of 
 levity, as he stooped to select a cigar. 
 
 " How do you mean. Sir ?" cried Cashel, angrily. 
 
 " Why, simply that when you shoot my Lord you'll scarcely desert 
 my Lady," said he, with the same easy manner. 
 
 '*' You surely told him that his suspicions were unfounded and unjust ; 
 that my intimacy, however prompted by the greatest admiration, had 
 never transgressed the line of respect ?" 
 
 " Of course, my dear fellow, I said a thousand things of you that I 
 didn't beheve, — and worse still, neither did he ; but the upshot of all is, 
 that he fancies it is a question between the Peerage and the great un- 
 titled class; he has got into his wise brain that the Barons of Runny- 
 mede will rise from their monumental marble in horror and shame 
 at such an invasion of ' the order ;' and that there will be no longer 
 security beneath the coronet when such a domestic Jack Cade as yourself 
 goes at large." 
 
 " I tell you again, Linton — and let it be for the last time — your plea- 
 santry is most ill-timed. I cannot, I will not, gratify this old man's 
 humour, nor make myself ridiculous to pamper his absurd vanity. 
 Besides, to tlirow a slander upon his wife, he must seek another 
 instrument." 
 
462 ROLAia> CASHEL. 
 
 By accident, mere accident, Cashel threw a more than usual signifi- 
 cance into these last few words; and Linton, whose command over his 
 features rarely failed, taken suddenly by what seemed a charge, grew 
 deep red. 
 
 Cashel started as he saw the effect of his speech ; he was like one who 
 sees his chance shot has exploded a magazine. 
 
 " What!" cried he, "have you a grudge in that quarter, and is it 
 thus you would pay it ?" 
 
 " I hope you mean this in jest, Cashel," said Linton, with a voice of 
 forced calm. 
 
 " Faith, I was never less in a mood for joking ; my words have only 
 such meaning as your heart accuses you of." 
 
 " Come, come, then there is no harm done. But pray, be advised, 
 and never say as much to any one who has less regard for you. And now, 
 once more, what shall we do with Kilgoff ? He has charged me to 
 carry you a message, and I only undertook the mission in the hope of 
 some accommodation — something that should keep the whole affair 
 strictly amongst ourselves." 
 
 " Then you wish for my answer ?" 
 
 '•' Of course." 
 
 " It is soon said. I'll not meet him." 
 
 " Not meet him ? But, just consider — " 
 
 " I have considered, and I tell you once more, I'll not meet him. 
 He cannot lay with truth any injury at my door ; and I will not, to 
 indulge his petulant vanity, be led to injure one whose fair fame is of 
 more moment than our absurd differences." 
 
 " I own to you, Cashel, this does not strike me as a wise course. By 
 going out and receiving his fire, you have an opportunity of declaring 
 on the ground your perfect innocence of the charge; at least, such, I 
 fancy, would be what I should do, in a like event. I would say, ' My 
 Lord, it is your pleasure, under a very grave and great misconception, 
 to desire to take my life. I have stood here for you, once, and will do 
 so, again, as many times as you please, till either your vengeance be 
 satisfied or your error recognised; simply repeating, as I now do, that, I 
 am innocent.' In this way you will show that personal risk is nothing, 
 with you, in comparison with the assertion of a fact that regards another 
 far more nearly than yourself. I will not dispute with you which line is 
 the better one ; but, so much I will say, This is what Hhe World' would 
 look for." 
 
 The word was a spell ! Cashel felt himself in a difficulty perfectly 
 novel . He was, as it were, arraigned to appear before a court of whose 
 proceedings he knew little or nothing. How the " World" would regard 
 the affair, was the whole question — what the ** World" would say of 
 
KOLAND CASHEL, 463 
 
 Lady Kilgoff — how receive her exculpation. Now Linton assuredly 
 knew this same " World," well ; he knew it in its rare moods of good- 
 humour, when it is pleased to speak its flatteries to some popular idol of 
 the hour; and he knew it, in its more congenial temper, when it utters 
 its fatal judgments on unproved delinquency and imputed wrong. None 
 knew better than himself the course by which the " Holy Ojffice" of 
 slander disseminates its decrees, and he had often impressed Roland with 
 a suitable awe of its mysterious doings. The word was, then, talismanic ; 
 for, however at the bar of conscience he might stand acquitted, Cashel 
 knew that it was to another and very different jurisdiction the appeal 
 should be made. Linton saw what was passing in his mind, for he had 
 often watched him in similar conflicts, and he haistened to press his ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 " Understand me well, Cashel ; 1 do not pretend to say that this is 
 the common-sense solution of such a diSiculty ; nor is it the mode 
 which a man with frankness of character and honourable intentions 
 would perhaps have selected ; but it is the way in which the world will 
 expect to see it treated, and any deviation from which would be re- 
 garded as a solecism in our established code of conduct." 
 
 " In what position will it place her ? That's the only question worth 
 considering." 
 
 " Perfect exculpation. You, as I said before, receive Kilgoff 's fire, 
 and protest your entire innocence : my Lord accepts 'your assurance, 
 and goes home to breakfast — voila tout!" 
 
 " What an absurd situation ! I declare to you, I shrink from the 
 ridicule that must attach to such a rencontre, meeting a man of his age 
 and infirmity !" 
 
 " They make pistols admirably now-a-days," said Linton, drily ; 
 " even the least athletic can pull a hair-trigger." 
 
 Cashel made no answer to this speech, but stood still, uncertain how 
 to act. 
 
 " Come, come," said Linton, " you are ^ving the whole thing an 
 importance it does not merit : just let the old Peer have the pleasure of 
 his bit of heroism, and it will aU end as I have mentioned. They'll 
 leave this to-morrow early, reach Kilaloe to breakfast, whence Kilgoff 
 will start for the place of meeting, and, by ten o'clock, you'll be there 
 also. The only matter to arrange is, whom you'll get. Were it a real 
 affair, I'd say Upton, or Frobisher ; but, here, it is a question of secrecy, 
 not skill. I'd advise, if possible, your having M*Farline." 
 
 " Sir Andrew ?" said Cashel, half laughing. 
 
 " Yes ; his age and standing are precisely what we want here. He'll 
 not refuse you ; and if he should, it's only telling Lady Janet that we 
 want to shoot Kilgoff, and she'll order him out, at once." 
 
464 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 *'I protest it looks more absurd than ever!" said Roland, im- 
 patiently. 
 
 " That is merely your own prejudice," said Linton. *' You cannot 
 regard single combat but as a life-struggle between two men, equal 
 not merely in arms, but alike in bodily energy, prowess, skill, and 
 courage. We look on the matter here as a mere lottery, wherein the 
 less expert as often draws the prize. — But there, as I vow, that was two 
 o'clock ! It struck, and I have promised to see Kilgoff again to-night. 
 By the way, he'll want horses. Where can he get them ?" 
 
 " Let him take mine ; there are plenty of them, and he'll never 
 know anything of it." 
 
 " Very true. What an obliging adversary, that actually * posts' 
 his enemy to the ground!'' 
 
 " How am I to see M'Farline to-night ?" 
 
 " You'll have to call him out of bed. Let Flint say there's an orderly 
 from Limerick with despatches ; that Biddy Molowney won't pay her 
 poor-rate, or Paddy Flanagan has rescued his pig ; and the magistrates 
 are calling for the fifty-something and two squadrons of horse, to pro- 
 tect the police. You'll soon have him up ; and, once up, his Scotch 
 blood will make him as discreet as an archdeacon. So, good night ; 
 add a codicil to your will in favour of my lady, and to-bed." 
 
 With this Linton took his candle and retired. 
 
 Cashel, once more alone, began to ponder over the difficulty of his 
 position. The more he reasoned on the matter, the stronger appeared 
 his fears that Lady Kilgoff's name would be compromised by a foolish 
 and unmeaning quarrel; while, for himself, he saw nothing but ridicule 
 and shame from his compliance. That omnipotent arbiter, "the World," 
 might indeed be satisfied, but Roland suspected that few of its better 
 judging members would hesitate to condemn a course as unfeeling as it 
 was unwise. 
 
 A quick, sharp knocking at the door of his room aroused him from 
 his musings. It was Lady Kilgoff's maid, breathless and agitated. She 
 came to say that Lord KilgofP, after a scene of passionate excitement 
 with her ladyship, had been seized with paralysis, and that he was now 
 lying powerless and unconscious on his bed. 
 
 " Come, sir, for mercy's sake ; come quickly. My lady is distracted, 
 nor can any of us think of what to do." 
 
 Cashel scratched a few lines in pencil to Tiernay, requesting his 
 immediate presence, and, ringing for his servant, at once despatched a 
 message to the village. This done, he followed the maid to Lord 
 Kilgoff's chamber. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 465 
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 The waters darken, and the rustling sound 
 Tells of the coming " squall." The Pilot. 
 
 Lord Kilgoff was stretched upon a bed, breathing heavily ; one 
 arm lay straight beside him, and the other crossed upon his breast. His 
 features were deadly pale, save in the centre of each cheek, where a 
 deep-red spot seemed to burn. A slight, very slight distortion marked 
 his features, and a faint tremor seemed to quiver on his hp. Beside the 
 bed, with an expression of some conscious terror In her face, sat Lady 
 Kilgoff; her white dressing-gown, over which her hair fell in long abund- 
 ant masses, added pallor to her looks. Her eyes met Cashel's as he 
 entered, and then reverted to the bed where the sick man lay, but with 
 an expression less of sorrow than of bewilderment and confusion. 
 
 She looked, Indeed, like one whose faculties had been stunned by 
 some sudden shock, and had, as yet, made no effort to recall them to 
 their wonted exercise. At the foot of the bed stood the maid, whose 
 half-uttered sobs were the only sounds to break the stillness. 
 
 Cashel drew near, and placed his fingers on the sick man's pulse. 
 Often had he, in his former adventurous career, felt the ebbing current 
 of a life's blood, and measured its power by its resistance. The full but 
 labouring swell of the heart might well deceive him, then, into the 
 impression that no grave consequences were near. He knew not that 
 in such affections the pulse can be round, and strong, and impulsive ; 
 and it was with an earnest conviction of truth he whispered to her, 
 
 " There is no danger." 
 
 She looked up, but it was easy to see that although the words had 
 sounded like comfort, they had not pierced the dense veil that clouded 
 her mind. 
 
 Cashel repeated the phrase, and said, 
 
 " Tlernay will soon be here, but have no fears ; my own slight skill 
 can tell you there is nothing of peril. Had you not better retire from 
 this — even to the window ?" 
 
 A faint " No " was all she uttered. 
 
 " He was in perfect health this afternoon?" said Cashel to the 
 maid. 
 
 " My Lord was better than usual, Sir ; he took out his collar and his 
 star to look at them, and he spoke very pleasantly of going abroad in the 
 spring. He was reading in the library when Mr. Linton went to him." 
 
 ''Linton!" muttered Lady Kilgoff, with a shudder. 
 
 2 H 
 
466 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 "I think I hear voices ia the corridor," said Cashel. " If it be the 
 Doctor, say I wish to speak with him before he sees my Lord." 
 
 The maid left the room t6 perform the commission, and scarcely had 
 the door closed, than Lady Kilgoff started up^ and seizing an object 
 which lay on the bed, exclaimed, " How came it into your keeping?" 
 
 " What ?" cried Cashel, in amazement. 
 
 " This bracelet," said she, holding out towards him the massive bracelet 
 which Linton had contrived to detach from her arm at their meeting in 
 the " Park." 
 
 *' I never saw it before — never in my life." 
 
 She sank slowly back upon the chair without speaking, while a faint 
 tremor shook her frame. 
 
 " The Doctor is without. Sir," said the maid at this moment, and 
 Cashel hastened out. He spoke a few hurried words to Tiemay, and 
 then walked towards his o%vn room. That some deep and artful treachery 
 had drawn its web around and about him, involving not himself alone 
 but another too, he now clearly felt. He saw danger, as the sailor sees 
 it in the lowering sky and fleeting scud, but as yet he knew not from 
 what quarter the " squall" was coming. His suspicions all pointed to 
 Linton ; but why attribute such a game to him ? and if such were his 
 purpose, to what end could he practise this treachery ? 
 
 " Would it not be better," thought he, " to see him at once ; tell him 
 my suspicions openly ; say, that I no longer trust him as my friend, but 
 feel towards him the misgivings of a secret enemy ? If there is manliness 
 about him, he will avow his enmity, or resent my distrust ; either or 
 both would be a relief to what I now suffer. Ahi here he comes," said 
 he ; but he was deceived; it was Tiemay entered. 
 
 " What say you, Doctor? is the case a grave one ?" 
 
 " Worse ; it is nearly hopeless !" 
 
 " What ! do you fear for his life?" 
 
 " Life or intellect, one or the other, must pay the penalty. This is 
 the second shock. The shipwreck gave the first, and rent the poor 
 edifice almost in twain ; this will, in all likelihood, lay it in ashes." 
 
 *' This is very dreadful I" said Cashel, upon whom the attendant 
 events and the consequences were weighing heavily. 
 
 " He has told me all !" said Tiernay, almost sternly. " His jealousy 
 and her levity — the rampant pride of station — the reckless freedom of a 
 broken heart — such are the ingredients that have made up a sad story, 
 which may soon become a tragedy," 
 
 " But there was no reason for it ; his jealousy was absurd — unfounded.'* 
 
 " As you will. You may go farther, and say he could not lose 
 what he never owned. I saw the peril — I even warned you of it." 
 
BOLAND CASHEL. 467 
 
 "I can only comprehend you by half," said Cashel, impatiently. 
 " You imply blame to me where I can feel none." 
 
 " I blame you as I will ever do those, who, not fearing danger for 
 themselves, are as indifferent about their neighbours. It is not of this 
 silly old man I am thinking here — it is of her, who, without a protector, 
 should have found one in every man of generous and honoin-able feeling ; 
 not as you, perhaps, understand protection — not by the challenge hurled 
 in the face of all who would dare to asperse her fair fame, but by that 
 studied respect, that haUowed deference, that should avert detraction. 
 Neither you nor any other could be the champion of her honoiu'; but 
 you might have been its defender by a better and a nobler heroism. It 
 is too late to think of this now ; let us not lose time in vain regrets. 
 We must take measm'es that ungenerous reports should not be circu- 
 lated." 
 
 The door suddenly opened at the instant, and Linton, in his dressing- 
 gown, entered ; but, seeing Tiemay, made a motion to retire. 
 
 " Come in," said Cashel; and there was something ahnost peremp- 
 tory in the words. 
 
 " I feared I might prove an intruder, seeing the Doctor here. Is it 
 true what my servant says, that Kilgoff is dangerously iU ?" 
 
 Cashel nodded. 
 
 " Poor fellow ! he has no command over hunself in those paroxysms 
 of passion which his folly and vanity are so constantly stirring up. But 
 is the case serious ?" 
 
 " He will scarcely recover, Sir," said Tiemay ; " and it was because 
 my functions as a physician can be of so little benefit, that I ventured 
 to offer my services as a friend in the case, and give some counsel as to 
 what should be done." 
 
 " Most considerate, indeed," said Linton, but in an accent at once 
 impossible to say whether ironical or the reverse. 
 
 " I said, Sir," resumed Tiernay, " that it would be becoming that no 
 false representation should obtain currency as to the origin of the illness, 
 nor that a momentary excitement of a feeble intellect should be assumed 
 as the settled conviction of a sound mind. My Lord Kilgoff has had 
 something like altercation with his wife, and being a weak and failing- 
 man, with breaking faculties, has been seized with a paralytic attack." 
 
 " Very thoughtfiil, all this," said Linton, gravely ; " pray command 
 me in any part of your plan where I may be serviceable." 
 
 " The plan is this," said Cashel ; *' here is a case where a terrible 
 calamity has befallen, and which can be made worse only by calumny. 
 To make the slanderer pay the heaviest penalty of his infamy — " 
 
 " Nay, nay — this is not our plan," said Tiernay, gently ; " Lord 
 
 2h2 
 
468 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 KilgofF's attack must be spoken of without connexion with any circum- 
 stances which preceded it this evening. Nothing was more likely to 
 occur than such a seizure : his age — his late illness — his peculiar habit, 
 all predisposed to it." 
 
 •' Just so," interposed Cashel, hastily ; *' and as none save you, Lin- 
 ton, and myself, know anything of the matter, it need never gain wider 
 publicity." 
 
 " Of course nothing can be easier than this. The Lady ' Janets' need 
 never hear a word more than you choose to tell them," said Linton. 
 
 " In a few days he will bear removal. Change will be necessary 
 for him ; and, in fact, our caution is, doubtless, greater than the neces- 
 sity warrants," added Tiernay. 
 
 *' You will, of course, leave everything to take its course in the 
 house?" said Linton. " To interfere with all the plans of pleasure would 
 be to give rise to malicious rumours." 
 
 " I scarcely know how to act," said Cashel. " It looks unfeeling 
 and unkind that we should give ourselves up to gaiety at such a 
 moment." 
 
 " Mr. Linton's counsel may be wise, notwithstanding," said Tiernay. 
 " His Lordship may continue a long time in his present state." 
 
 " Exactly what I mean," said Linton. "He will probablj' linger on, 
 unchanged; so that if events follow their habitual train, there will be 
 little time or temptation to spread scandal about him ; and then, what, 
 at first blush, seems to lack kindness, is, in reality, the very truest and 
 most considerate service we can render." 
 
 " Then you will look to this part of the matter, Linton ?" said 
 Cashel, on whom his apparent frankness had resumed its former as- 
 cendancy. 
 
 " Leave it all to me," said he ; " and so good-night." And, with 
 that, he departed, leaving Cashel and Tiernay together. 
 
 They Avere silent for some minutes, as Linton's retiring steps were 
 heard going towards his own room. Soon after, the loud bang of a 
 door resounded through the house, and all was still. Little knew they, 
 that scarcely had he gained his room than he left it noiselessly, and, 
 slipping down the great stairs, crossed the hall, and, entering the 
 theatre, proceeded by the secret passage which led to Cashel's dressing- 
 room ; and through the thin panel that covered which, he could easily 
 overhear whatever was spoken within . 
 
 " At least you will allow that he has been candid with us here ?" said 
 Cashel, in a tone of remonstrance. 
 
 " I cannot afford to give a man my confidence, because I am unable to 
 sound his intentions," said Tiernay. " I disliked this Linton from the 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 469 
 
 first, and I never jet saw any distinct reason to alter the sentiment. 
 That he has puzzled me — aye, completely puzzled me and all my calcu- 
 lations, within the last few days, is quite true. He has done that which, 
 in a man like himself, disconcerts one altogether, because it is so difficult 
 to trace his probable motive. What would you say, were I to tell you 
 that this deep man of the world, this artful and subtle gambler in the 
 game of life, has actually proposed for a girl who is utterly without 
 fortune or family influence ? That she is endowed with noble attributes 
 — that she is one a prince might have chosen to share his fortunes, I 
 deem as nothing to the purpose, for I cannot conceive such qualities as 
 hers could weigh with him ; but so it is, he has actually made an offer 
 of his hand." 
 
 " Dare your confidence go further," said Cashel, eagerly, " and tell 
 me — to whom ?" 
 
 " Yes. I have been guilty of one breach of faith in telling you so 
 much, and I'll hazard all, and let you hear the remainder. It was 
 Mary Leicester.^* 
 
 " Mary Leicester !" echoed Cashel, but in a voice barely audible. 
 
 " Mary Leicester," continued Tiernay, " may count it among her 
 triumphs to have attracted one whom all the world regards as an ad- 
 venturer ; a man living by the exercise of his clever wits, profiting by 
 the weaknesses and follies of his acquaintances, and deriving his sub- 
 sistence from the vices he knows how to pamper." 
 
 " And what answer has he received ?" asked Cashel, timidly. 
 
 "None, as yet. Poor Corrigan, overwhelmed by misfortune, threatened 
 b^j one whose menace, if enforced, would be his death-stroke, has begged 
 for a day or two to consider ; but the reply is certain." 
 
 " And will be — " Cashel could not command his emotion as he 
 spoke. 
 
 " Refusal." 
 
 " You are certain of this, Tiernay ? You are positive of what you 
 say ?" 
 
 " I know it. My old friend, were he even inclined to this alliance, 
 would never coerce her ; and Mary Leicester has long since learned to 
 distinguish between the agreeable qualities of a clever man and the artful 
 devices of a treacherous one. She knows him ; she reads him thoroughly, 
 and as thoroughly does she despise him ! I will not say that her im- 
 pressions have been unaided ; she received more than one letter from a 
 kind friend — Lady Kilgoff ; and these were her first warnings. Poor 
 Corrigan knows nothing of this ; and Mary, seeing how Linton's society 
 was pleasurable to the old man, actually shrank from the task of unde- 
 
470 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 ceivirig him. ' He has so few pleasures,' said she to me one evening ; 
 * why deny him this one ?' ' It is a poison which cannot injure in small 
 doses, Doctor,' added she, another time; and so, half-jestingly, she rea- 
 soned, submitting to an intimacy that was odious to her, because it 
 added a gleam of comfort to the chill twilight of his declining life." 
 
 " And you are sure of this — you are certain she will refuse him ?" 
 cried Cashel eagerly. 
 
 "lam her confidant," said Tiernay, "and you see how worthily I 
 repay the trust ! Nay, nay ! I would not tell these things to any 
 other living ; but I feel that I owe them to you. I have seen more 
 misery in life from concealment, from the delicacy that shuns a frank 
 avowal, than from all the falsehood that ever blackened a bad heart. 
 Mary has told me all her secrets ; aye, — don't blush so deeply — and 
 some of yours also." 
 
 Cashel did indeed grow red at this speech, and, in his effort to conceal 
 his shame, assumed an air of dissatisfaction. 
 
 " Not so, my dear young friend," said Tiernay; " I did not mean to 
 say one word which could offend you. Mary has indeed trusted me 
 with the secret nearest to her heart. She has told me of the proudest 
 moment of her life." 
 
 " When she rejected me?" said Cashel bitterly. 
 
 '' So was it — when she rejected you," re-echoed Tiernay. " When 
 poor, she refused wealth ; when friendless in all that friendship can 
 profit, she declined protection ; when almost homeless, she refused a 
 home ; when sought by one whom alone of all the world she preferred, 
 she said him, nay ! It was at that moment of self-sacrifice, when she 
 abandoned every thought of present happiness and of future hope, and 
 devoted herself to one humble but holy duty, she felt the ecstacy of a 
 martyr's triumph. You may think that these are exaggerations, and 
 that I reckon at too exalted a standard such evidences of affection, but I 
 do not think so. I believe that there is more courage in the patient 
 submission to an obscure and unnoticed fortune beset with daily trials 
 and privations, than in braving the stake or the scaffold, with human 
 sympathies to exalt the sacrifice." 
 
 " But I offered to share this duty with her ; to be a son to him whom 
 she regarded as a father." 
 
 " How little you know of the cares, the thoughtful, watchful, anxious 
 cares, you were wOling to share ! You could give wealth and splendour, 
 it is true ; you could confer all the blandishments of fortune, all the 
 luxuries that rich men command ; but, one hour of gentle solicitude in 
 sickness — one kind look, that recalled years of tenderness — one accus- 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 471 
 
 tomed service, the tribute of affection — were worth aM that gold could 
 purchase, told ten times over. And these are not to be acquired ; they 
 are the instincts that, born in childhood, grow strong with years, till at 
 length they form that atmosphere of love in which parents live among 
 their children. No ! Mary felt that it were a treason to rob her poor 
 old grandfather of even a thought that should be his." 
 
 " But, I repeat it," cried Cashel, passionately ; " I would participate 
 in every care ; I would share her duties, as she should share my 
 fortunes." 
 
 " And what guarantee did you give for your fitness to such a task?" 
 said Tiemay. " Was it by your life of pleasure, a career of wild and 
 wasteful extravagance — was it by the unbridled freedom with which 
 you followed every impulse of your wiU — was it by the example your 
 fiiendships exhibited — was it by an indiscriminating generosity, that 
 only throws a shade over better-regulated munificence, you would show 
 that you were suited to a life of unobtrusive, humble duties ?" 
 
 " You wrong me," said Cashel. " I would have Hved in that cottage, 
 yonder, without a thought or a wish for the costly pleasures you think 
 have such attractions for me." 
 
 " You had already sold it to your friend." 
 " Sold it ! — never ! — to whom ?" 
 " I thought Linton had purchased it." 
 " Never." 
 
 " Well, you gave it as a gift ?" 
 
 " I did intend to do so ; but seeing the value Corrigan puts upon it, 
 I will give Linton double — thrice the value, rather than part with it." 
 "What if he refuse?" 
 
 " He will not. Linton's fancies never run counter to sohd advan- 
 tages. A thousand pounds, with him, is always twice five hundred, 
 come with what condition it may." 
 
 " But Linton may, for his own reasons, think differently here ; his 
 proposal to marry seems as though it were part of some settled plan ; 
 and if you have already given him a legal claim here, my opinion is, 
 that he will uphold it." 
 
 " That I have never done ; but my word is pledged, and to it he may 
 hold me, if he will. Meanwhile, I have seen Kennyfeck this morning. 
 The man Hoare has offered us a large sum on mortgage, and I have 
 promised to meet them both the day after to-morrow. If I read Tom 
 aright, 10,000/. will free me from every claim he has upon me." 
 
 " A heavy sum, but not ill-spent if it liberate you from his friend- 
 ship," cried Tiernay eagerly. 
 " And so it shall." 
 
472 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " You promise me this — you give me your word upon it ?" 
 
 " I do." 
 
 "Then there are good days in store for you. That man's intunacy 
 has been your bane ; even when you thought least of it, his influence 
 swayed your actions and perverted your motives. Under the shadow of 
 his evil counsels your judgment grew warped and corrupted ; you saw all 
 things in a false and distorted light ; and your most fatal error of all was, 
 that you deemed himself a ' gentleman.' " 
 
 " I have done with him for ever," said Cashel, with slow, deliberate 
 utterance. 
 
 " Again, I say, good days are in store for you," said Tiernay. 
 
 " I cannot live a life of daily, hourly distrust," said Cashel ; " nor will 
 I try it. I will see him to-morrow ; I will tell him frankly that I am 
 weary of his fashionable protectorate ; that as a scholar in modish tastes 
 I should never do him credit, and that we must part. Our alliance was 
 ever a ftictitious one ; it will not be hard to sever it." 
 
 " You mistake much," said Tiernay ; '*' the partnership will not be so 
 easily relinquished by him who reaps all the profit." 
 
 *' You read me only as a dupe," said Cashel, fiercely. 
 
 Tiernay made no reply ; but waving his hand in adieu, left the room. 
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 Hell's eloquence — " Temptation !" 
 
 Harold. 
 
 Dan Keane, the Gate-keeper, sat moodily at his door on the morning 
 after the events recorded in our last Chapter. His reflections seemed 
 of the gloomiest, and absorbed him so completely, that he never noticed 
 the mounted groom, v ho, despatched to seek the Doctor for Lord Kd- 
 goff\, twice summoned him in vain to open the gate. 
 
 "Halloa!" cried the smartly-equipped servant, "Stupid! will you 
 open that gate, I say ?" 
 
 " It's not locked," said Dan, looking up, but without the slightest in- 
 dication of obeying the request. 
 
 " Don't you see the mare won't stand ?" cried he, with an oath. 
 
 Dan smoked away without replying. 
 
 " Sulky brute you are!" cried the groom ; " I'm glad we're to see the 
 last of you soon." 
 
 With this he managed to open the gate and pass on his way. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 473 
 
 " So, it's for tumin' me out, yez are," said Dan to himself; "tumin* 
 me out on the road — to starve, or maybe — to rob," (these words were 
 uttered between the puffs of his tobacco-smoke,) " after forty years iu 
 the same place." 
 
 The shrill barking of a cur-dog, an animal that in spitefulness as in. 
 mangy condition seemed no bad type of its master, now aroused him, and 
 Tom muttered, " Bite him. Blaze ! hould him fast, yer soule !" 
 
 " Call off your dog, Keane — call him off!" cried out a voice, whose 
 tones at once bespoke a person of condition ; and at the same instant 
 Linton appeared. " You'd better fasten him up, for I feel much tempted 
 to ballast his heart with a bullet." 
 
 And he showed a pistol which he held at full cock in his fingers. 
 
 " Faix, ye may shoot him, for all I care," said Dan ; " he's losia* 
 his teeth, and won't be worth a ' trawneen' 'fore long. Go in there — 
 into the house," cried he, sulkily; and the animal shrank away craven 
 and cowed. 
 
 " You ought to keep him tied up," said Linton, '* every one complains 
 of him." 
 
 " So I hear," said Dan, with a low, sardonic laugh; " he used only to 
 bite the beggars, but he's begun now to be wicked with the gentlemen. 
 I suppose he finds they taste mighty near ahke." 
 
 *• Just so," said Linton, laughing : " if the cur could speak, he'd tell 
 us a labourer was as tender as ' my Lord.' I've come over to see you," 
 added he, after a moment's pause ; " and to say that I'm sorry to 
 have failed in my undertaking regarding you ; they are determined to 
 turn you out." 
 
 " I was thinking so," said Dan, moodily. 
 
 " I did my best. I told them you had been many years on the 
 estate—" 
 
 " Forty-two." 
 
 " Just so. I said forty and upwards — that your children had grown 
 up on it — that you were actually like a part of the property. I spoke 
 of the hardship of turning a man at your time of life, with a helpless 
 family too, upon the wide world. I even went so far as to say, that these 
 were not the times for such examples ; that there was a spirit abroad of 
 regard for the poor man, a watchful inquiry into the evils of his condi- 
 tion, that made these ' clearances,' as they call them, unwise and impo- 
 litic, as well as cruel." 
 
 " An' what did they say to that ?"' asked Dan, abruptly. 
 
 " Laughed — laughed heartily." 
 
 " They laughed ?" 
 
474 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 "No — I am wrong," said Linton, quickly, " Kennyfeck did not laugh; 
 on the contrary, he seemed grave, and observed that up at Dumcoola- 
 ghan — is there such a name?" 
 
 " Aye, and nice boys they're in it," said Dan, nodding. 
 
 " Well, up at Dumcoolaghan, said he, such a step would be more 
 than dangerous. 
 
 " ' How do you mean ?' said Mr. Cashel. 
 
 "'They'd take the law into their own hands,' replied Kennyfeck. 
 The man who would evict one of those fellows, might as well make 
 his will, if he wished to leave one behind him. They are determined 
 fellows, whose fathers and grandfathers have lived and died on the land, 
 and find it rather hard to understand how a bit of parchment with a big 
 seal on it, should have more force than kith and kindred." 
 
 " Did ould Kennyfeck say that ?" asked Dan, with a glance of un- 
 utterable cunning. 
 
 "No;" replied Linton, "that observation was mine, for really I was 
 indignant at that summary system which disposes of a population as 
 coolly as men change the cattle from '^one pasturage to another. Mr. 
 Cashel, however, contented himself with a laugh, and such a laugh as, for 
 his sake, I am right glad none of his unhappy tenantry were witness to." 
 
 " * You may do as you please down here. Sir,' said Kennyfeck — who, 
 by the way, does not seem to be any friend of yours — * but the Dumcoo- 
 laghan fellows must be humoured.' 
 
 "'I will see that,' said Mr. Cashel, who in his own hot-headed way actu- 
 ally likes opposition, ' but we'll certainly begin with this fellow Keane.' 
 
 " 'I suppose you'll give him means to emigrate?' said I, addressing 
 Kennyfeck. 
 
 " * We generally do in these cases,' said he. 
 
 " * I'll not give the scoundrel a farthing,' broke in Mr. Cashel. * I 
 took a dislike to him from the very hour I came here.' And then, he 
 went on to speak about the dirt and neglect about the Gate-Lodge, the 
 ragged appearance of the children — even your own looks displeased him ; 
 in fact, I saw plainly that somehow you had contrived to make him 
 your enemy, not merely of a few days' standing, but actually from the 
 moment of his first meeting you. Kennyfeck, though not your friend, 
 behaved better than I expected: he said that to turn you out was to leave 
 you to starve ; that there was no employment to be had in the country ; 
 that your children were all young and helpless; that you were not 
 accustomed to daily labour ; indeed, he made out your case to be a very 
 hard one: and, backed as it was by myself, I hoped that we should have 
 succeeded ; but, as I said before, Mr. Cashel, for some reason of his own. 
 
The- Temptation 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 475 
 
 or perhaps without any reason, hates you. He has resolved that out you 
 shall go, and go you must !" 
 
 Keane said nothing, but sat moodily moving his foot backwards and 
 forwards on the gravel. 
 
 " For Mr. Cashel's sake, I'm not sorry the lot has fallen upon a quiet- 
 tempered fellow like yourself; there are plenty here who wouldn't bear 
 the hardship so patiently." 
 
 Keane looked up, and the keen twinkle of his grey eyes seemed to 
 read the others very thoughts. Linton, so proof against the searching 
 glances of the well-bred world, actually cowered under the vulgar stare 
 of the peasant. 
 
 " So you think he's lucky that I'm not one of the Dumcoolaghau 
 boys ?" said Keane, and his features assumed a smile of almost insolent 
 meaning. 
 
 " They're bold fellows, I've heard," said Linton, " and quick to resent 
 an injury." 
 
 " Maybe there's others just as ready," said he, doggedly. 
 
 " Many are ready to feel one," said Linton, " that, I'm well aware of. 
 The difference is, that some men sit down under their sorrows, crest- 
 fallen and beaten; others, rise above them, and make their injuries the road 
 to fortune. And really, much as people say against this " wild justice" 
 of the people, when we consider that they have no other possible — that 
 the law is ever against them, that their own right-hand alone is their 
 defence against oppression — one cannot wonder that many a tyrant land- 
 lord falls beneath the stroke of the ruined tenant, and particularly when 
 the tyranny dies with the tyrant." 
 
 Keane listened greedily, but spoke not ; and Linton went on : — 
 
 " It so often happens that, as in the present case, by the death of one 
 man, the estate gets into Chancery; and then, it's nobody's affair who 
 pays and who does not. Tenants then have as much right as the land- 
 lord used to have. As the rents have no owner, there's little trouble 
 taken to collect them ; and when any one makes a bold stand and refuses 
 to pay, they let him alone, and just turn upon the others that are easier 
 to deal with." 
 
 " That's the way it used to be here long ago," said Keane. 
 
 " Precisely so. You remember it yourself, before Mr. Cashel's time ; 
 and so it might be again, if he should try any harsh measures with 
 those Dumcoolaghan fellows. Let me light my cigar from your pipe, 
 Keane," said he ; and, as he spoke, he laid down the pistol which he had 
 still carried in his hand. Keane's eyes rested on the handsome weapon 
 with an expression of stern intensity. 
 
476 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Cashel would think twice of going np to that mountain barony to- 
 morrow, if he but knew the price that lies upon his head. The hun- 
 dreds of acres that to-day are a support to as many people, — and this 
 day twelvemonth, perhaps, may lie barren and waste ; while the poor 
 peasants that once settled there have died of hunger, or wander friend- 
 less and houseless in some far-away country, — and all this to depend on 
 the keen eye and the steady hand of any one man brave enough to pull 
 a trigger !" 
 
 "Is he going to Dumcoolaghan to-morrow?" asked Keane, drily. 
 
 " Yes ; he is to meet Kennyfeck there, and go over the property 
 with him, and on Tuesday evening he is to return here. Perhaps I may 
 be able to put in another word for you, Dan, but I half fear it is 
 hopeless.'' 
 
 " 'Tis a lonely road that leads from Sheehan's Mill to the ould 
 churchyard," said Keane, more bent upon following out his own fancies 
 than in attending to Linton. 
 
 "So I believe," said Linton; "but Mr. Cashel cares little for its 
 solitude ; he rides always without a servant, and so little does he fear 
 danger, that he never goes armed." 
 
 " I heard that afore," observed Dan, significantly. 
 
 "I have often remonstrated with him about it," said Linton. " I've 
 said, ' Remember how many there are interested in your downfal. One 
 bullet through your forehead is a lease for ever, rent-free, to many a 
 man whose life is now one of grinding poverty.' But he is self-willed 
 and obstinate. In his pride, he thinks himself a match for any man — as 
 if a rifle-bore and a percussion-lock hke that, there, did not make the 
 merest boy his equal ! Besides, he will not bear in mind that his 
 is a life exposed to a thousand risks ; he has neither family nor con- 
 nexions interested in him : were he to be found dead on the road-side 
 to-morrow, there is neither father nor brother, nor uncle nor cousin, to 
 take up the inquiry how he met his fate. The Coroner would earn his 
 guinea or two, and there would be the end of it!" 
 
 " Did he ever do you a bad turn, Mr. Linton ?" asked Keane, while 
 he fixed his cold eyes on Linton with a stare of insolent effrontery. 
 
 " Me ! injure me? Never. He would have shown me many a favour, 
 but I would not accept of such. How came you to ask this question ?" 
 
 " Because you seem so interested about his comin' home safe to- 
 morrow evening," said Dan, with a dry laugh. 
 
 *' So I am !" said Linton, with a smile of strange meaning. 
 
 " An* if he was to come to harm, sorry as you'd be, you couldn't 
 help it, Sir ?" said Keane, still laughing. 
 
BOLAND CASHEL. 477 
 
 " Of course not ; these mishaps are occurring every day, and will 
 
 continue as long as the country remains in its present state of wretched- 
 
 >> 
 ness. 
 
 Keane seemed to ponder over the last words, for he slouched his hat 
 ovei his eyes, and sat with clasped hands and bent-down head for several 
 minutes in silence. At last he spoke, but it was in a tone and with a 
 manner whose earnestness contrasted strongly with his former levity. 
 
 " Can't we speak openly, Mr. Linton ? wouldn't it be best for both 
 of us to say fairly what's inside of us this minit ?" 
 
 "I'm perfectly ready," said Linton, seating himself beside him; " I 
 do not desire anything better than to show my confidence in a man of 
 courage like yourself." 
 
 " Then let us not be losin' our time," said the other gruffly. '' What's 
 the job worth ? that's the chat. What is it worth?" 
 
 " You are certainly a most practical speaker," said Linton, laughing 
 in his own peculiar way, *' and clear away preliminaries in a very sum- 
 mary fashion." 
 
 " If I'm not worth trustin', now," repHed the other, doggedly, " ye'd 
 betther have nothin' to say to me." 
 
 " I did not mean that, nor anything like it, Dan. I was only allud- 
 ing to your straightforward, business-like way of treating a subject 
 which less vigorously-minded men would approach timidly and care- 
 fully." 
 
 "Faix, I'd go up to him bouldly, if ye mane that!" cried the other, 
 who misconceived the eulogy passed upon his candour. 
 
 *' I know It — well I know it," said Linton, encouraging a humour he 
 had thus casually evoked ; for in the bloodshot eyes and flushed cheeks 
 of the other, it was plain to see what was passing within him. 
 
 *' Do ye want it done ? Tell me that — be fair and above-boord with 
 me — Do you want it done ?" 
 
 Linton was silent ; but a slight, an almost imperceptible motion of 
 his brows made the reply. 
 
 " And now, what's it worth ?'' resumed Dan. 
 
 " To yow," said Linton, speaking slowly, "it is worth much — every- 
 thing. It is all the difference between poverty, suffering, and a gaol, 
 and a life of ease and comfort either here or in America. Your little 
 farm, that you hold at present by the will, or rather the caprice, of your 
 landlord, becomes your own for ever ; when I say for ever, I mean what 
 is just as good, since the estate will be thrown back into Chancery; and 
 it is neither ?/our children nor mine will see the end of that." 
 
 " That's no answer to me,'' said Keane, fixing his cold, steady stare 
 
478 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 on Linton's face. " I want to know — and I won't ax it again — what is 
 it worth to you V 
 
 " To met — to meV said Linton, starting. " How could it be worth 
 anything to me ?" 
 
 " You know that best yourself," said Dan, sulkily. 
 
 " I am neither the heir to his estate, nor one of his remote kindred. 
 If T see a fine property going to ruin, and the tenantry treated Hke 
 galley-slaves, I may, it is true, grieve over it ; I may also perceive 
 what a change — a total and happy change — a mere accident might 
 work ; for, after all, just think of the casualties that every day brings 
 forth—" 
 
 " I hav'n't time for these thoughts, now," muttered Dan. 
 
 " Always to the point, always thinking of the direct question !" said 
 Linton, smiling. 
 
 " 'Tisn't yer honer's failin', anyhow," said Dan, laughing sardoni- 
 cally. 
 
 " You shall not say that of me, Dan," said Linton, affecting to relish 
 the jocularity; " I'll be as prompt and ready as yourself. I'U wager you 
 ten sovereigns in gold — there they are — that I can keep a secret as well 
 as you can." 
 
 As he spoke, he threw down the ghttering pieces upon the step on 
 which they sat. 
 
 The peasant's eyes were bent upon the money with a fierce and angry 
 expression, less betokening desire than actual hate. As he looked at 
 them, his cheek grew red, and then pale, and red once more ; his broad 
 chest rose and fell like a swelling wave, and his bony fingers clasped each 
 other in a rigid grasp. 
 
 " There are twenty more where these came from," said Linton, signi- 
 ficantly. 
 
 "That's a high price — devil a lie in it!" muttered Dan, thought- 
 fully. 
 
 Linton spoke not, but seemed to let the charm work. 
 
 " A high price, but the * dhrop' in Limerick is higher," said Dan, 
 with a grin. 
 
 " Perhaps it may," rejoined Linton, carelessly; *' though I don't 
 per«eive how the fact can have any interest for you or me." 
 
 " Be Gorra, ye're a cowld man, anyhow," said Keane, his savage 
 nature struck with admiring wonder at the unmoved serenity of Linton's 
 manner. 
 
 " I'm a detennined one," said Linton, who saw the necessity of im- 
 pressing his companion ; " and with such alone would I wish to act." 
 
EOLAITD CASHEL. 479 
 
 " And where would you be, after it was all over, Sir ?'* 
 
 ** Here, where I am at present, assisting the Magistrates to scour the 
 country — searching every cabin at Dumcoolaghan — draining ditches to 
 discover the weapon, and arresting every man that killed a pig and got 
 blood on his corduroys for the last fortnight." 
 
 " And where would / be ?" asked Keane. 
 
 " Here too ; exactly where you sit this moment, quietly waiting till 
 the out<;ry was over. Nor need that make you impatient. I have said 
 already there is neither wife, nor sister, nor brother, nor child, to take up 
 the pursuit. There are forty people in the great house yonder, and there 
 wouldn't be four of them, left, two hours after it was known ; nor one 
 out of the four, that would give himself the trouble of asking how it 
 happened." 
 
 " An' them's Gentlemen .'" said Keane, closing his lips and shakin^j* 
 his head sententiously. 
 
 Linton arose; he did not over-fancy the turn of reflection Dan's 
 remark implied : it looked too like the expression of a general condem- 
 nation of his class — at the very moment too when he was desirous of 
 impressing him with the fullest trust and confidence in his own honour. 
 
 " I beHeve it's safer to have nothin' to do mth it," muttered Keane. 
 
 " As you please, friend," replied Linton ; " I never squeeze any man's 
 conscience. You know best what your own life is." 
 
 " Hard enough, that's what it is," said the other, bitterly. 
 
 " You can also make a guess what it will be in future, when you leave 
 this." 
 
 A deep groan was all that he gave for answer. 
 
 *' For all that / know, you may have many friends who'll not see your 
 wife and children begging along the roads, or sitting in a hole scooped 
 out of a clay ditch, without food or fire, waiting for the fever to finish 
 what famine has begun. You haven't far to seek for what I mean ; 
 about two hundred yards from that gate yonder, there's a group exactly 
 like it." 
 
 " Ye're a terrible man, that's the truth," said Dan, as he wiped the big 
 drops of perspiration from his forehead. " Be Gorra, I never seed your 
 like afore!" 
 
 " 1 told you that I was a determined man," said Linton, sternly ; 
 " and I'm sorry to see that's not what I should say of yow." He moved 
 a step or two as he spoke, and then turning carelessly back, added, 
 " Leave that monev for me at ' The House,' this evening ; I don't wish 
 to carry gold about me on the roads here." And with this negligent 
 remark he departed. 
 
480 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Linton sauntered carelessly away ; nothing in his negligent air and 
 carriage to show that he was not lounging to kill the weary hours of a 
 •winter's day. No sooner, however, had he turned an angle of the road 
 than he entered the wood, and with cautious steps retraced his way, till 
 he stood within a few paces of where Keane yet sat, still and motionless. 
 
 His worn hat was pressed down upon his brows, his hands were firmly 
 clasped, and his head bent, so as to conceal his features ; and in this 
 attitude he remained as rigidly impassive as though he were seized with 
 a catalepsy. A few heavy drops of rain fell, and then a low growling 
 roar of thunder followed, but he heeded not these signs of coming storm. 
 The loud cawing of the rooks as they hastened homeward filled the air, 
 but he never once lifted his head to watch them ! Another crash of 
 thunder was heard, and suddenly the rain burst forth in torrents. Swoop- 
 ing along in heavy drifts, it blackened the very atmosphere, and rushed 
 in rivulets down the gravel walk ; but still he sat, while the pelting storm 
 penetrated his frail garments and soaked them through. Nor was it till 
 the water lay in pools at his feet that he seemed conscious of the hurri- 
 cane. Then, rising suddenly, he shook himself roughly, and entered 
 the house. 
 
 Linton's eyes were earnestly fixed upon the stone — he crept nearer to 
 observe it. The money was gone. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 481 
 
 CHAPTER LVIIT. 
 
 The mask is falling fast. 
 
 Harold. 
 
 The day of the great masquerade arrived ; and, from an early hour, 
 the wliole household was astir in preparing for the occasion. The court- 
 yard was thronged with carriages of various sorts. Confectioners from 
 London, table-deckers from Paris, were there, accompanied by all the 
 insignia of their callings. Great lumbering packing-cases were strewn 
 about ; while rich stuffs, rare exotics, and costly delicacies littered the 
 stone-benches, and even lay upon the pavement, in all the profusion of 
 haste and recklessness. To see the rare and rich articles which were 
 heaped on every side, almost suggested the notion that it was some 
 gorgeous mansion which was put to pillage. There was that, too, in 
 the lounging insolence of the servants, as they went, that favored the 
 illusion. The wanton waste exhibited everywhere was the very triumph 
 of that vulgar and \dndictive spirit which prompts the followers of a 
 spendthrift master to speed the current of his ruin. Such would seem 
 to be the invariable influence that boundless profusion exercises on the 
 mind ; and it is thus that affluence, unchastened by taste, unruled by 
 principle, is always a corrupter! 
 
 A light travelling-carriage, with a few articles of travelling use 
 attached, stood in the midst of all this confusion ; and shortly after day- 
 davvn two gentlemen issued from the house, and taking their seats, drove 
 hastily forth, and at full speed passed down the avenue towards the high 
 road. 
 
 These were Cashel and Mr. Kennyfeck, who had made an appoint- 
 ment to meet Mr. Hoare at Killaloe and proceed with him to Drum- 
 coolaghan, on which portion of the estate it was proposed to raise a con- 
 siderable sum by mortgage. 
 
 Some observation of Mr. Kennyfeck upon the wasteful exhibition of 
 the scene in the court-yard, was met by a sharp and angry reply from 
 Cashel ; and these were both overheard as they issued forth. Vague 
 words, spoken thoughtlessly at the time, but to be remembered after- 
 wards with a heavier significance than the speakers could have anti- 
 cipated ! As they hastened along, little was said on either side ; the 
 trifling irritation of the first moment created a reserve, which deepened 
 into actual coldness, as each following out his own thoughts took no 
 heed of his companion's. 
 
 Kennyfeck's mind was full of sad and gloomy forebodings. The 
 
 2 I 
 
482 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 reckless outlay he had witnessed for weeks back was more than a 
 princely fortune could sustain. The troops of useless servants, the 
 riotous disorder of the household, the unchecked, unbridled waste on 
 every side, demanded supplies, to raise which they were already reduced 
 to loans at usurious interest. What was to come of such a career, save 
 immediate and irretrievable ruin ! 
 
 As for Cashel, his reveries were even darker stUl. The whirlwind 
 current of events seemed to carry him onward without any power of 
 resistance. He saw his fortune wasted — his character assailed — his 
 heart-offered proposal rejected, — all, at once, and as if by the influence 
 of some evil destiny. Vigorous resolutions for the future warred with 
 fears lest that they were made too late, and he sat with closed eyes 
 and compressed lips, silent and sunk in meditation. 
 
 Leaving them, therefore, to pursue a journey on which their compa- 
 nionship could scarcely afford much pleasure to the reader, let us turn 
 to one who, whatever his other defects, rarely threw away the moments 
 of his life on unavailing regrets : this was Mr. Linton. If he was greatly 
 disappointed by the information he gleaned when overhearing the con- 
 versation between Cashel and the Doctor, he did not suffer his anger 
 either to turn him from his path, or distract him from his settled pur- 
 pose. 
 
 " To-day for ambition !" said he, " to-morrow, revenge!" 
 
 Too well accustomed to obstacles to be easily thwarted, he recognised 
 life as a struggle wherein the combatant should never put off his 
 armour. 
 
 " She must and shall accept me as her husband ; on that I am deter- 
 mined. A great game, and a glorious stake, shall not be foiled for a 
 silly girl's humour. Were she less high-flown in her notions, and with 
 more of the ' world' about her, I might satisfy her scruples, that, of her 
 affections — her heart as she would call it — there is no question here. 
 ' Je suis bon Prince' — I never coerce my liege's loyalty. As to the old 
 man, his dotage takes the form of intrepidity, so that it might be unsafe 
 to use menace with him. The occasion must suggest the proper 
 tactic." 
 
 And with this shrewd resolve he set forth to pay his visit at the cot- 
 tage. If in his step and air, as he went, none could have read the 
 lover's ardour, there was that in his proud carriage and glancing eye 
 that bespoke a spirit revelling in its own sense of triumph. 
 
 While Mr. Linton is thus pursuing his way, let us use the privilege of 
 our craft by anticipating him, and taking a peep at that cottage interior 
 in which he is so soon to figure. Old Mr. Corrigan had arisen from his 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 483 
 
 bed wear}'' and tired ; a night of sleepless care weighed heavily on him ; 
 and he sat at his untasted breakfast with all the outward signs of a 
 sick man. 
 
 Mary Leicester, too, waa pale and sad-looking ; and although she tried: 
 to wear her wonted smile, and speak with her accustomed tones, the heavy 
 eyehds and the half-checked sighs that broke from her at times betrayed 
 how sad was the spirit from which they came. 
 
 " I have been dreaming of that old nunnery at Bruges all night, 
 Mary," said her grandfather, after a long and unbroken silence ; " and 
 you cannot think what a hold it has taken of my waking thoughts. I 
 fancied that I was sitting in the little parlour, waiting to see you, and 
 that, at last, a dark veiled figure appeared at the grille, and beckoned 
 me to approach. I hastened to do so ; my heart fluttering with, I know 
 not what, mixture of hope and fear — the hope, it might be you, and then 
 the fear, stronger than even hope, that I should read sadness in that 
 sweet face — sorrow, Mary — regret for leaving that world you never 
 were to see more." 
 
 " And was it me, dearest Papa?" 
 
 " No, Mary," said he, with a lower and more meaning tone ; " it 
 was another, one whom I never saw before. She came to tell me that 
 — that" — ^he faltered, and wiping a tear from his eyes, made an effort to 
 seem calm — " that I had lost you, darling ! lost by a separation darker 
 and more terrible than even the iron bars of the nunnery can make. 
 And although I bethought me that you had but gone there, whither I 
 myself was hastening, I felt sorrow-struck by the tidings. I had clung 
 so long to the hope of leaving you behind me here, to enjoy that world 
 of which all your affectionate care has denied you enjoyment — to know 
 how, amidst its troubles and reverses, there are healing springs of love 
 that recompense its heaviest inflictions — I cherished this wish so long, so 
 ardently, that I could not face the conviction which told me it should 
 never be." 
 
 " Dearest Papa, remember this was but a dream ; bethink you, for an 
 instant, that it was all unreal ; that I am beside you, my hand in 
 yours, my head upon your shoulder ; that we are not parted, nor ever 
 shall be." 
 
 The tone of deep fervour in which she spoke drew tears from the old 
 man's eyes, and he turned away to hide them. 
 
 " It was but a dream, as you say, Mary ; but do not my waking 
 thoughts conjure up a future to the full as gloomy ? A few months, at 
 farthest, a year or so more — less sanguine prophets would perhaps 
 say weeks — and where shall I be ? and where you, Mary ?" 
 
 2 i2 
 
W^ EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 The old man's grief could no longer be restrained, and it was in a 
 perfect burst of sorrow the last words came forth. She would have 
 spoken, but she knew not from what source to draw consolation. The 
 future, which to his eyes looked dark and lowering, presented an aspect 
 no less gloomy to her own ; and her only remedy against its depressing 
 influence was to make her present cares occupy her mind, to the exclu- 
 sion of every other thought. 
 
 " And yet, Mary," said he, recovering something of his habitual 
 tone, " there is an alternative, one which, if we could accept of it from 
 choice as freely as we might adopt it from convenience, would solve our 
 difficulties at once. My heart misgives me, dearest, as I approach it. 
 I tremble to think how far my selfishness may bias you — how thoughts 
 of me, old and worthless as I am^ may rise uppermost in your breast 
 and gain the mastery, where other and very different feelings should 
 prevail. I have ever been candid with you, my child, and I have reaped 
 all the benefit of my frankness ; let me then tell you all. An offer has 
 been made for your hand, Mary, by one who, while professing the utmost 
 devotion to you, has not forgotten your old grandfather. He asks that 
 he should be one of us, Mary — a new partner in our firm — a new member 
 in the little group around our hearth. He speaks like one who knew the 
 ties that bind us most closely — he talks of our home here, as we our- 
 selves might do —he has promised that we shall never leave it, too. 
 Does your heart tell you whom I mean, Mary ? If not, if you have 
 not already gone before me in all I have been saying, his visions of 
 happiness are baseless fabrics. Be candid with me, as I have ever been 
 with you. It is a question on which everything of the future hangs — 
 say, if you guess of whom I speak ?" 
 
 Mary Leicester's cheek grew scarlet ; she tried to speak, but could 
 not ; but with a look far more eloquent than words, she pressed the old 
 man's hand to her lips, and was silent. 
 
 ''I was right then, Mary; you have guessed him. Now, my sweet 
 child, there is one other confession you must make me, or leave me to 
 divine it from that crimson cheek. Have his words found an echo in 
 your heart?" 
 
 The old man drew her more closely to his side, and passed his arm 
 around her as he spoke ; while she, with heaving bosom and bent-down 
 head, seemed struggling with an agitation she could not master. At 
 last she said, — 
 
 " You have often told me, Papa, that disproportion of fortune was an 
 insurmountable obstacle to married happiness ; that the sense of perfect 
 equality in condition was the first requisite of that self-esteem which 
 
■ ROLAND CASHEL. 485 
 
 must be the basis of an affection free and untrammelled from all un- 
 worthy considerations." 
 
 " Yes, dearest ; I believe this to be true." 
 
 " Then, surely, the present is not a case in point ; for while there is 
 wealth and influence, on one side, there are exactly the opposites, on the 
 other. If he be in a position to make his choice among the great and 
 titled of the land, my destiny lies among the lowly and the humble. 
 What disparity could be greater ?" 
 
 " When I spoke of equality," said the old man, " I referred rather 
 to that of birth and lineage than to any other. I meant that social 
 equality by which uniformity of tastes and habits are regulated. There 
 is no mesalliance where good blood runs on both sides." 
 
 This was the tenderest spot in the old man's nature ; the pride of 
 family surviving every successive stroke of fortune, or, rather, lising 
 superior to them all. 
 
 " I thought, moreover," said Mary, " that in his preference of me 
 there was that suddenness which savoured more of caprice than deep 
 conviction. How should I reckon upon its lasting ? What evidence 
 have I that he cares for the qualities which will not change in me, and 
 not for those which spring from youth and happiness ? — for I am 
 happy, dearest Pa' — so happy, that with all our trials and difficulties, 
 I often accuse myself of levity — insensibility even — feeling so light- 
 hearted as I do." 
 
 The old man looked at her with rapture, and then pressed his lips 
 upon her forehead. 
 
 " From all of this, then, I gather, Mary," said he, smiling archly, 
 " that, certain misgivings apart, the proposition is not peculiarly dis- 
 agreeable to you ?" 
 
 " I am sure I have not said so," said she, confusedly. 
 
 " No, dearest ; only looked it. But stay, I heard the wicket close — 
 there is some one coming. I expected Tiernay on a matter of business. 
 Leave us together, child ; and, till we meet, think over what we've 
 been saying. Remember, too, that although I would not influence 
 your decision, my heart would be relieved of its heaviest load if this 
 could be." 
 
 Mary Leicester arose hastily and retired ; too happy to hide, in the 
 secrecy of her own room, that burst of emotion which oppressed her, 
 and whose utterance she could no longer restrain. 
 
 Scarcely had she gone, when Linton crossed the grass-plot," and 
 entered the cottage. A gentle tap at the door of the drawing-room 
 announced him, and he entered. A more acute observer than Mr. 
 
486 ROLAND CA3HEI.. 
 
 Corrigan might have remarked that the deferential humility so charac- 
 teristic of his manner was changed for an air of more purpose-like 
 determination. He came to carry a point hy promptness and boldness ; 
 and already his bearing announced the intention. 
 
 After a few words of customary greeting, and an inquiry more formal 
 than cordial for Miss Leicester's healtli, he assumed an air of solemn 
 purpose, and said, 
 
 " You will not accuse me of undue impatience, my dear Mr. Corrigan, 
 nor think me needlessly pressing, if I tell you that I have come here 
 this morning to learn the answer to my late proposition. Circumstances 
 have occurred at the Hall to make my remaining there, even another 
 day, almost impossible. Cashel's last piece of conduct is of such a 
 nature as to make his acquaintance as derogatory as his friend- 
 ship." 
 
 " What was it ?" 
 
 " Simply this. Lord Kilgoff has at length discovered, what all the 
 world has known for many a day back ; and, in his passionate 
 indignation, the poor old man has been seized with a paralytic at- 
 tack." 
 
 Mr. Corrigan passed his hand across his brow, as if to clear away 
 some terrible imagination, and sat then pale, silent, and attentive, as 
 Linton went on : 
 
 " The most heartless is yet to come ! While this old man lies stretched 
 upon his bed — insensible, and dying — this is the time Cashel selects to 
 give a great entertainment, a ball, to above a thousand people. It is 
 almost too much for belief — so I feel it myself. The palsied figure of 
 ^ his victim — his victim, do I say ? there are two : that miserable woman, 
 who sits as paralysed by terror as he is by disease — might move any man 
 from such levity ; but Cashel is superior to such timidity ; he fancies, I 
 believe, that this ruffian hardihood is manliness, that brutal insensibility 
 means courage, and so, he makes his house the scene of an orgie, when 
 his infamy has covered it with shame. I see how this affects you, Sir. 
 It is a theme on which I would never have touched, did it not con- 
 cern my own fortunes. For me, the acquaintance of such a man is 
 no longer possible. For the sake of that unhappy w^oman, whom I knew 
 in better days — to cover, as far as may be, the exposure that sooner or 
 later must follow her fault — I am still here. You will, therefore, forgive 
 my importunity if I ask if Miss Leicester has been informed of my pro- 
 posal, and with what favour she deigns to regard it." 
 
 " I have told my grandaughter. Sir," said the old man, tremulously; 
 " we have talked together on the subject ; and while I am not able to 
 
ROLAisD CASHEL. 487 
 
 speak positively of her sentiments towards you, it strikes me that they 
 are assuredly not unfavourable. The point is, however, too important 
 to admit a doubt ; with your leave, we will confer together once 
 again." 
 
 " Might J not be permitted to address the young lady myself, Sir ? 
 The case too nearly concerns aU my future happiness to make me 
 neglect whatever may conduce to its accomplishment." 
 
 The old man hesitated ; he knew not well what reply to make. At 
 length he said, 
 
 " Be it so, Mr. Linton ; you shall have this permission. I only ask, 
 that before you do so, we should clearly and distinctly understand each 
 other. IVe are of the world, and can discuss its topics, man to man. 
 With her, the matter rests on other and very different groimds." 
 
 ** Of course ; so I understand the permission. Sir,' said Linton, 
 courteously, " on the distinct understanding that her acceptance alone 
 is wanting to fill up the measure of my wishes ?" 
 
 " Is it necessary that I should repeat that I am totally destitute of 
 fortune — that the humble means I possess expires with me, and that I 
 am as poor in influence as in all else ?" 
 
 " I have sufficient of both. Sir, for all that moderate wishes can 
 desire. Pray do not add a word upon the subject." 
 
 " I must be explicit, Mr. Linton, however wearisome to you the 
 theme. You will pardon an old man's prolixity, in consideration for 
 the motives which prompt it. We have absolutely nothing of our 
 once powerfid family, save the name and the escutcheon — mementos 
 to remind us of our fall ! They did, indeed, say, some time back, that 
 our title to the estate afforded strong grounds for litigation — that there 
 were points of considerable importance — " 
 
 '* May I interrupt you. Sir?" said Linton, laying his hand on Corri- 
 gan's arm. " A subject so full of regrets to ^ou can never be a pleasing 
 topic to me. I am fully as rich as a man like myself could desire ; and 
 I trust to personal exertions for whatever I may wish to add in the way 
 of ambition." 
 
 "And with good reason. Sir," said Corrigan, proudly. "There are 
 no failures to those who unite honesty of purpose with fine abilities. I 
 ■will not add a word. Go — speak to my grandaughter : I tell you 
 frankly my best wishes go with you." 
 
 Linton smiled a look of deep gratitude, and moved towards the 
 door. 
 
 " One second more," oried Corrigan, as the other laid his hand on 
 the lock ; '* it may soon be, that, as a member of our family, you would 
 
488 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 have the right to express a will on the subject we have been talking of. / 
 I would \\ish to say, that, as I have abandoned all desire to contest 
 •this question, I should equally expect the same line of conduct from 
 
 you." 
 
 " Can you doubt it, Sir — or is it necessary that I should give my 
 promise ?" 
 
 " I hope and trust not. But having myself given a written pledge, 
 under my own hand and seal, to Mr. Cashel, surrendering all right and 
 title to this estate — " 
 
 "Who gave this ?" said Linton, turning suddenly round, and relin- 
 quishing his hold upon the lock of the door. " Who gave this?" 
 
 "I gave it. ' 
 
 " To whom ?" 
 
 " To Mr. Cashel, in the presence of his agent." 
 
 " W^hen ?" exclaimed Linton, from whose pale features, now, in- 
 tense agitation had banished all disguise. "When did you give 
 it ?" 
 
 " Within a fortnight." 
 
 " And this document— this release — was formal and explicit ?" 
 
 " Perfectly so. I knew enough of law to make it obligatory. I 
 stated the conditions for which it was given — certain concessions that 
 Mr. Cashel had lately granted me respecting this small property." 
 
 Linton sat down, and covered his face with both hands. The 
 trouble of his feelings had carried him far away from all thought of 
 concealment, and of the part which so long he had been playing. In- 
 deed, so insensible was he to every consideration save one, that he for- 
 got Corrigan's presence — forgot where he was ; and in the paroxysm of 
 his baffled purpose, muttered half aloud broken curses upon the insane 
 folly of the old man's act. 
 
 " I am compelled to remind you. Sir, that I am a listener,'' said Mr. 
 Corrigan, w^hose face, suffused with a flush of anger, showed that the 
 insulting remarks had been overheard by him. 
 
 " And this was done without advice or consultation with any one ?" 
 said Linton, not heeding the last remark, or the look that accom- 
 panied it. 
 
 "I was free then. Sir, to speak my gratitude, as I now am to utter 
 my indignation that you should dare to canvass m?/ acts and question 
 mr/ motives, both of which are above your control." 
 
 Linton stared at him almost vacantly ; his own thoughts, and not 
 the old man's words, had possession of his mind. With a rapidity of 
 computation, in which few were his equals, he ran over all the varying 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 489 
 
 chances of success which had accompanied his game — the pains he had 
 taken to avert all causes of failure — the unweaiying attention he had 
 given to every minute point and doubtful issue — and now, here, at 
 the very last, came the ruin of all his plans, and wreck of all his 
 hopes. 
 
 ** You have said enough — more than enough. Sir — to show me how 
 disinterested were the views in which you sought my grandaughter in 
 marriage," said Corrigan, haughtily ; " nor would it much surprise me 
 now were 1 to discover, that he who is so skilful a doubledealer may 
 be no less expert as a calumniator. I will beg you to leave my house 
 this instant." 
 
 " Not so fast, Sir," said Linton, assuming a seat, and at once regain- 
 ing that insolent composure for which he was noted ; " I have not that 
 generous warmth of character which is so conspicuous in you. I have 
 never given Mr. Cashel a release of any obligation I possess upon him. 
 This house is mine, Sir — mine by legal transfer and right ; and it is 
 you who are the intruder !" 
 
 The old man staggered backwards, and leaned against the wall — a 
 clammy perspiration covered his face and forehead, and he seemed sick 
 to the very death. It was some time before he could even utter a word; 
 and then, as with clasped hands , and uplifted eyes he spoke, the fervour of 
 his words told that they were heart-spoken. " Thank God for this ! 
 but for it, and I had given my child to a scoundrel !" 
 
 *' Scarcely polite, Sir, and, perhaps, scarcely politic," said Linton, with 
 his treacherous half-smile. " It would be as well to bear in mind how 
 we stand toward each other." 
 
 " As enemies, open and declared," cried Corrigan fiercely. 
 
 " 1 should say, as Creditor and Debtor," said Linton ; " but probably 
 we are speaking in synonyms. Now, Sir, a truce to this altercation, for 
 which I have neither time nor taste. Tell me frankly, can you obtain 
 repossession of this unlucky document which in an ill-starred moment 
 you parted with ? If you can, and will do so, I am willing to resume 
 the position I occupied towards you half-an-hour ago. This is plain 
 speaking, I am aware; but how much better than to bandy mock cour- 
 tesies, in which neither of us have any faith ! We are both men of the 
 world — I, at least, have no shame in saying that I am such. Let us 
 then be frank and business-like.'* 
 
 " You have at last filled up the measure of your insult, Sir," said Cor- 
 rigan, fiercely ; " you have dared to speak of me as of yourself." 
 
 " It is a compliment I have not paid a great many, notwithstanding," 
 replied Linton, with a languid insolence of manner that contrasted 
 
490 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 strongly with the other's natural warmth ; " and there are people in 
 this world would accept it as a flattery ; but once more I say, let us 
 abandon this silly squabble. Will you, or will you not, accept my pro- 
 posal ? I am ready to purchase the wreck as she lies upon the rocks, 
 wave-tossed and shattered. Is it not better to give me the chance of float- 
 ing her, than see her go to pieces before your eyes, and drift piecemeal 
 into the wide ocean?" 
 
 "Leave me, Sir — leave me!" was all the old man could utter. 
 
 " If I take you at your word," said Linton, rising, " remember, that 
 the last gleam of hope for you departs when I close that door behind me. 
 I warn you that I am little given to relenting." 
 
 " Insolent scoundrel !" cried Corrigan, carried away by indignation. 
 
 " Unhandsomely spoken, old gentleman; such words are ill- befitting 
 grey hairs and palsied hands ; but I forgive them. I repeat, however, 
 my nature is not over-disposed to forgiveness. An injury with me is like 
 a malady that leaves its mark behind it. The day may come when all 
 your entreaties, aided even by the fair supplications of a more gentle 
 penitent — " 
 
 " If you dare, Sir 1" cried Corrigan, interrupting; and the insolence — 
 schooled and practised in many a trial — quailed before the look and 
 gesture of the old man. 
 
 ^^ You shall have your choice, then," said Linton. " From henceforth 
 you will have to confess that I am not a secret enemy." And so saying, 
 he opened the sash which led into the garden and passed out, leaving 
 Corrigan overcome by emotion and almost panic-stricken. 
 
 The deceptions which are practised on youth are seldom attended with 
 lasting influence; but when they fall upon a heart chilled and saddened 
 by age they are stunning in their effect, and seldom, or never, admit of 
 relief. 
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 "Can sight and hearing — even touch, deceive? 
 Or, is this real?" 
 
 Plai/. 
 
 Probably, in all his varied life, Cashel had never passed a day less 
 to his satisfaction than iJaat spent at Drumcoolaghan. His mind, already 
 tortured by anxieties, was certainly not relieved by the spectacle that 
 presented itself to his eyes. The fearful condition of a neglected Irish 
 
ROLAJs^D CASHEL. ^9^1 
 
 property, where want, crime, disease, and destitation were combined, 
 was now seen by him for the first time. There was one predominant 
 expression on and over everything — " Despair." The almost roofless 
 cabin — the scarce clad children — the fevered father stretched upon his bed 
 of clay — the starving mother, v»ith a dying infant at her bosom — passed 
 before him like the dreadful images of a dream. And then he was to 
 Jiear from his agent, that these were evils for which no remedy ex- 
 isted : " there had always been fever in Ireland ;" " dirt they were used 
 to;" want of clothing had become " natural" to them; falsehood was the 
 first article of their creed ; their poverty was only fictitious : this one, 
 ■owned several cows ; the other, had money in a savings' bank ; and so on. 
 In fact, he had to hear, that every estate had its plague-spot of bad 
 characters, where crime and infamy found a refuge ; and that, it might 
 be poor morality, but good policy, to admit of the custom. 
 
 Confused by contradictory statements, wearied by explanations, to 
 understand which nothing short of a life long should have passed in 
 studying the people — imposed upon by some, unjust towards others — ^he 
 listened to interminable discussions without one gleam of enlightenment— 
 and what is far worse, without one ray of hope ; the only piece of satisfac- 
 tion he derived from the visit being, that Hoare had consented to advance 
 a sum upon mortgage of the property, which, in his secret soul, Cashel 
 resolved should be a purchase, and not a mere loan. The object he had 
 in view was, to buy off Linton's claim upon the cottage ; and having 
 settled all his most pressing debts, to retire for some years to the Conti- 
 nent, till a sufficient sum should have accumulated to permit him to 
 recommence his life as a country gentleman, in a manner and with views 
 very different from what he had hitherto done. He hoped, by travel, 
 to improve his mind and extend his knowledge ; he trusted that, by 
 observing the condition of the peasant in different countries of Europe, 
 he might bring back with him certain suggestions applicable to his own 
 tenantry ; and, at all events, he determined that the resources of his 
 large fortune should no longer be squandered in meaningless debauch, 
 so long as real destitution and grinding misery lay at his very door. He 
 made many a good and noble resolve, and, like most men in such cases 
 with youth on their side, he was impatient to begin to act upon them. 
 
 It was, then, with a feeling hke that of a liberated prisoner, he heard from 
 Mr. Kennyfeck, that although Mr. Hoare and himself had yet many preli- 
 minaries to arrange, which might detain them several hours longer, he 
 might now return homeward to Tubbermore, where his company were 
 doubtless in anxious expectation of his coming. There were two roads 
 which led to Drumcoolaghan : one, was a species of carriage-road, by which 
 
492 BOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 they had come that morning ; the other, was a mere bridle path over the 
 mountain, and though shorter in mileage, requiring fully as much time, 
 if not more, to travel. Refusing the assistance of a guide, and pre- 
 ferring to be alone, he set out by himself, and on foot, to pursue the way 
 homeward. 
 
 It was the afternoon of a sharp, clear winter's day, when the bracing 
 air and the crisp atmosphere elevate the spirits, and make exercise the 
 most pleasurable of stimulants ; and as Cashel went along, he began to 
 feel a return of that old buoyancy of heart which had been so peculiarly 
 liis own in former days. The future, to which his hope already lent 
 its bright colours, was rapidly erasing the past, and in the confidence of 
 his youth he was fashioning a hundred schemes of life to come. 
 
 The path along which he travelled lay between two bleak and barren 
 m.ountains, and followed the course of a little rivulet for several miles. 
 There was not a cabin to be seen ; not a trace of vegetation brightened 
 the dreary picture ; not a sheep, nor even a goat, wandered over the 
 wild expanse. It was a solitude the most perfect that could be con- 
 ceived. Roland often halted to look around him, and each time his eye 
 wandered to a lofty peak of rock on the very summit of the mountain, 
 and where something stood which he fancied might be a human figure. 
 Although gifted with strong power of vision, the great height prevented 
 his feeling any degree of certainty ; so that he abandoned the effort, and 
 proceeded on his way for miles without again thinking on the subject. 
 At last, as he was nearing the exit of the glen, he looked up once more : 
 the cliff was now perceptible in its entire extent, and the figure was 
 gone ! He gave no further thought to the circumstance, but seeing 
 that the day was declining fast, increased his speed, in order to reach 
 the high road before night closed in. Scarcely had he proceeded thus 
 more than half-a-mile, when he perceived, full in front of him, about a 
 couple of hundred yards distant, a man seated upon a stone beside the 
 pathway. Cashel had been too long a wanderer in the wild regions of 
 the " far west," not to regard each new comer as at least a possible 
 enemy. His Prairie experience had taught him that men do not take 
 their stand in lonely and unfrequented spots without an object ; and so 
 without halting, which might have awakened suspicion in the other, he 
 managed to slacken his pace somewhat, and thus give himself more time 
 for thought. He well knew that, in certain parts of Ireland, landlord 
 murder had become frequent ; and although he could not charge himself 
 with any act which' should point him out as a victim, his was not a 
 mind to waste in casuistry the moments that should be devoted more 
 practically. He was perfectly unarmed, and this consideration rendered 
 

 Ph 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 49 S 
 
 him doubly cautious. The matter, however, had but few issues. To 
 go back would be absurd; to halt where he was, still more so. There 
 was nothing, then, for it but to advance ; and he continued to do so, 
 calmly and warily, till about twenty paces from the rock where the other 
 sat, still and immovable. Then it was that, dropping on one knee, the 
 stranger threw back a cloak that he wore, and took a deliberate aim 
 at him. 
 
 The steady precision of the attitude was enough to show Cashel that 
 the man was well versed in the use of fire-arms. The distance was 
 short, also, and the chance of escape, consequently, the very smallest 
 imaginable. Roland halted, and crossing his arms upon his breast, stood 
 to receive the fire exactly as he would have done in a duel. The other 
 never moved : his dark eye glanced along the barrel without blinking, 
 and his iron grasp held the weapon still pointed at Cashel's heart. 
 
 " Fire!" cried Roland, with the loud utterance he would have used in 
 giving the word of command; and scarcely was it spoken when the rifle 
 was flung to the earth, and, springing to his feet, a tall and muscular 
 man advanced with an outstretched hand to meet him. 
 
 " Don't you know me yet, Roland ?" cried a deep voice in Spanish ; 
 "not remember your comrade?" 
 
 " What!" exclaimed Cashel, as he rubbed his eyes and shook himself 
 as if to insure he was not dreaming, "This is surely impossible! you 
 cannot be my old friend and shipmate. Enriquez !" 
 
 " That am I, my boy," said the other, throwing his arms around him 
 and embracing him in true Mexican fashion, " your own old comrade for 
 many a year, who has sailed with you, fought with you, drunk with you, 
 played with you, and swears now that he wishes for nothing but the old 
 times over again." 
 
 " But how came you here? and when ? By what chance did you dis- 
 cover me?" said Roland, as he clasped the other's hand in both his own. 
 
 " 'Tis along story, ' Amigo mio,' but you shall have it all, one of these 
 days." 
 
 " True ; there will be time enough to tell it, for you shall not leave 
 me, Enriquez. I was longing for the face of an old comrade once again — 
 one of the old Esmeraldas, with whom my happiest days were passed." 
 
 "I can well believe it," said Enriquez; " and it was to see if wealth had 
 not sapped your courage, as I know it has your high spirits, that I took 
 aim at you, a while ago. Had you quailed, Roland, I almost think I 
 could have pulled the trigger." 
 
 " And I had well deserved it, too," said Cashel, sternly. " But let us 
 hasten forward. Enriquez, I am longing to see an old friend beneath 
 
494j EOLAJSFD CASHEL. 
 
 my roof — longing to see you seated opposite to me, and answering the 
 hundred questions about old friends and times that are thronging to my 
 mind." 
 
 " No, Roland, my way lies thither," said he, pointing towards the 
 west ; " I have been too long your guest already." 
 
 " How do you mean?" cried Roland in amazement. 
 
 *' Simply, that for seven weeks I have lived beneath your roof. The 
 narrative is too long for a moment like this ; but enough if I teU you that 
 it was a plot of Maritana's^ who, had I not acceded to the notion, would 
 have disguised herself and come hither, to watch and see with her own 
 eyes how you played the great man. To save her from such a step, 
 when all persuasion failed, I came here as the sailor, Giovanni." 
 
 " You, Giovanni ?" 
 
 "Aye, Roland, and if wealth had not blinded you so eflPectually, 
 you had soon seen through the counterfeit. As Giovanni, I saw your 
 daily life — ^the habits of your household — the sterling worth and fidelity 
 of the men you made your friends ; and let me tell you, Cashel, our old 
 associates of the ' Silla de las Noches,' were men of unblemished honour 
 compared with those well-bred companions of your prosperity. Often 
 and often have I been upon the brink of declaring myself, and then, have 
 I held backy sometimes, from a curiosity to see the game played out, some- 
 times, anxious to know how far this course of treachery might be carried 
 on without its awakening your suspicions. At length, I actually grew 
 weary of seeing you the ' dupe.' I almost ceased to feel interest in one 
 who could be imposed upon with such slender artifice. I forgot, Roland, 
 that I was the looker-on, and not the player of the game. It was in 
 this mood of mind I had half determined to leave your house, and suffer 
 you to go down the stream as chance might pilot, when I discovered that 
 treachery had taken a higher flight than I suspected; and that, not con- 
 tent with the slow breaching of your fortune by play and reckless waste, 
 your utter ruin, your very beggary had been compassed !" 
 
 Cashel started back, and grasped the other's arm tightly, but never 
 spoke. 
 
 "Are you still so infatuated as not to guess the traitor?" cried 
 Enriquez. 
 
 " You mean Linton ?" 
 " I do." 
 
 "But are you certain of what you speak? or do you mistake the 
 cunning devices of a subtle mind for the darker snares of downright 
 treachery ?" 
 
 " You shall hear," said Enriquez. " Sit down here upon this stone. 
 
ROLAND CASHED. 4SlS^ 
 
 I have some hours before I sail. The vessel leaves Limerick to-morrow 
 for Naples ; and thither I am bound, for Maritafia is there. No, no, my 
 dear friend, you must not ask me to stay ; I have remained longer than 
 I ought ; but I waited for the time when I might be able to recompense 
 you for having thus played the spy upon your actions. Hear me out 
 patiently now, for that hour is come." 
 
 As Cashel seated himself beside Enriquez, it was only by a great 
 effort he could compose himself to hsten, when a hundred questions 
 came thronging to his mind, and doubts and inquiries, of every possible 
 kind, demanded explanation. 
 
 " I will not waste your time or my own by dwelling upon your losses 
 at play. I may one day or other amuse you, by showing how little 
 chance our old Columbian friends would have had against these honour- 
 able and right honourable swindlers. That you should be the mark for 
 artifice, is natural enough ; but I have little patience with your blindness 
 in not seeing it. From the first hour of your arrival here, Linton set a 
 watch upon your doings. Phillis was his principal agent. But even 
 upon him Linton had his spies — myself among the number. Aye, 
 Roland, I was perhaps the only one he trusted ! As I have said, Linton 
 marked every step you took, heard all you said, read every letter that 
 reached you. Every night it was his practice, at a certain hour when 
 you repaired to the cottage, to enter your dressing-room by a secret 
 door that led from the theatre; and then, at his leisure, he ransacked your 
 papers, examined your correspondence, searched through all the docu- 
 ments which concerned your estate, possessing himself of information on 
 every point of your circumstances. Nor was this all ; he abstracted 
 papers of value from amongst them, well knowing the carelessness 
 of your habits, and with what little risk of detection his boldest darings 
 were attended. I studied him long and closely. For a great while I 
 could not detect the clue to his proceedings. I even at one time 
 ascribed all to jealousy, for he ivas jealous of the favour by Avhich Lady 
 Kilgoff distinguished you. This, however, could not explain all I saw, 
 for it was on the subject of your fortune his deepest interest was 
 excited. At last came his first move, and the whole game disclosed 
 itself before me. There lay upon your table for several days a deed 
 concerning the cottage where the old gentleman resided with his 
 daughter. This, Linton, to my surprise, did not take away, but simply 
 contented himself by placing it in such a prominent position as would in 
 all likelihood attract your notice. To no purpose, however ; you would 
 seem to have tossed it over, among other papers, without attention. He 
 went a step farther ; he broke the seal, and left the enclosure half open. 
 
496 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Still it lay unminded. The next night he carried it off, but you never 
 missed it." 
 
 " Nor was it of any consequence," broke in Cashel. " It was never 
 perfected, and had neither my signature nor my seal." 
 
 ''Are you so certain of that?" said Enriquez, smiling dubiously. 
 
 " I could swear to it." 
 
 " Look here, then," said the otlier, as he drew forth a pocket-book, 
 from the folds of which he took a heavy package, and opened it 
 before Cashel. " Is that name, there— that signature, 'Roland Cashel,' 
 yours ?" 
 
 Cashel stared at the writing without speaking; his hands trembled as 
 they held the paper, and his very frame shook with agitation. 
 
 " I never wrote it !" cried he, at last, and with an effort almost con- 
 vulsive. 
 
 " Yet, see if it be not witnessed ; there are the names and addresses 
 of two persons." 
 
 " It is a forgery ; a clever one, I own, but still a forgery. I never 
 signed that paper — never saw it till this instant." 
 
 " Well," said Enriquez, slowl}^, " I scarcely expected so much of 
 memory from you. It is true as you say, you never did sign it ; but / 
 did." 
 
 "You, Enriquez? — you ?" exclaimed Cashel. 
 
 " Yes, Roland. I accompanied Linton to Limerick at his request, 
 dressed to personate yow." We were met at the hotel by two persons 
 summoned to witness this act of signature ; of the meaning of which I, 
 of course, appeared to know nothing — nor did I, indeed, till long after- 
 wards, discover the real significance." 
 
 " And how came you by it eventually ?" 
 
 " By imitating Linton's own proceedings. I saw that for security he 
 placed it in an iron-box, which he carried with him to Limerick, and 
 which contained another document of apparently far greater value. 
 This casket was long enough in my company on that morning to enable 
 me to take a model of the key, by which I afterwards had another made ; 
 and by means of which I obtained possession of both these papers — for 
 here is the other." 
 
 " And when did you take them ?" 
 
 " About an hour ago. I saw that this drama was drawing to a finish. 
 I knew that Linton's schemes were advancing more rapidly than I could 
 follow ; his increased confidence of manner proved to me his conscious- 
 ness of strength, and yet, I could neither unravel his cunning nor 
 detect his artifice. Nothing then remained but to carry off these 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 497 
 
 papers ; and, as the hour of my own departure drew nigh, there was no 
 time to lose. There they are both. 1 hope you will be a more careful 
 depository than you have been hitherto.*' 
 
 " And where is Linton ?" cried Roland, his passionate eagerness for 
 revenge mastering every other feeling. 
 
 " Still your guest. He dines and does the honours of your board to- 
 day, as he did yesterday, and will to-morrow." 
 
 " Nay, by my oath, that he will never do more ! The man is no 
 coward, and he will not refuse me the amende I'll ask for." 
 
 " Were he on board, it is a loop and leap I'd treat him to," said 
 Enriquez. 
 
 *' So should I, perhaps," said Cashel, "but the circumstances change 
 with the place. Here he shall have the privilege of the class he has 
 belonged to, and disgraced." 
 
 " Not a bit of it, Roland. He is an average member of the guild ; 
 the only difference being, with more than average ability. These fellows 
 are all alike. Leave them, I say. Come and rough it with me in the 
 * Basque,' where a gallant band are fighting for the true Sovereign ; or 
 let us have another dash in the far West, where the chace is as the peril 
 and glory of war ; or what say you to the East ? a Circassian saddle and 
 a scimitar would not be strange to us. Choose your own land, my boy, 
 and let us meet this day month at Cadiz." 
 
 '' But why leave me, Enriquez? I never had more need of a true- 
 hearted friend than now." 
 
 " No, I cannot stay ; my last chance of seeing Maritafia depends on 
 my reaching Naples at once ; and as to your affair with Linton, it 
 will be one of those things of etiquette, and measured distance, and 
 hair-trigger, in which a rough sailor like myself would be out of 
 place." 
 
 " And Maritafia — tell me of her. They said that Rica had come to 
 England." 
 
 " Rica ! He dared not set foot on shore here. The fellow has few 
 countries open to him now : nor is it known where he is." 
 
 " And is she alone? Is Maritafia unprotected ?" 
 
 " Alone, but not unprotected. The girl who has twice crossed the 
 Cordilleras with a rifle on her shoulder, need scarcely fear the insults of 
 the coward herd that would molest her." 
 
 " But how is she living ? in what rank — among what associates?" 
 
 " I only know that she maintains a costly retinue at the * Albergo 
 Reale ;' that her equipages, her servants, her liveries, bespeak wealth 
 without limit. She is a mystery to the city she inhabits, So much 
 
 2k 
 
498 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 have I heard from others ; from herself, a few hnes reached me at 
 Dieppe, begging me to see you, and — you will scarcely believe it — 
 asking for a release from that bond of betrothal that passed between you, 
 — as if it could signify anything." 
 
 " Was the freedom thus obtained to be used in your favour, 
 Enriquez ?" 
 
 The other grew purple, and it was a few seconds before he could an- 
 swer. "No I that is over for ever. She has refused me as one so 
 much below her, that the very thought of an alliance would be degrada- 
 tion. The sailor — the buccaneer — raise his eyes to her whom Princes 
 seek in vain ? I go now to say my last farewell : as long as there 
 dwells upon my mind the slenderest chance of meeting her, so long will 
 hope linger in my heart ; not the high hope that spirits one to glorious 
 enterprise, but that feverish anxiety that unnerves the courage and 
 shakes the purpose. I cannot endure it any longer." 
 
 " Remain with me, then, for a day — for two at farthest — and we will 
 go together to Naples." 
 
 " Do not ask me, Roland. Some accident — some one of those chances 
 which befal each hour of life — might delay us ; and then, I might never 
 see her more. She is to leave Naples by the end of the month, but 
 to go whither, or how, she will not tell. Promise me to follow. Let us 
 meet there ; and then, if the world has not a faster hold upon you than 
 I deem it has, we'll seek our fortune together in new lands. What say 
 you ? is It a bargain ?" 
 
 " Agreed," said Roland. " I'll leave this within a week, without it 
 be my fate to quit it never. Let us rendezvous at Naples, then ; and 
 fortune shall decide what after." 
 
 " How hundreds of things press upon my mind, all of which, when 
 I am gone, will be remembered ; but which now are confusedly mingled 
 up together ! What warnings I meant to have given you ! what 
 cautions ! and now, I can think of nothing." 
 
 *' I have room for but one thought," said Cashel, sternly : " it is a 
 debt which, every hour unpaid, increases by a tenfold interest." 
 
 " It need not weigh long upon your conscience. Linton wears the 
 dress of a grandee of Spain to-night ; but he'll conceal it, from time to 
 time, beneath a plain brown domino with yellow cape. Do not mix 
 with your company on arriving, but wait till about twelve o'clock in 
 your room, and you'll hear him. as he enters his own : then, without 
 risk of disturbance, you can see him j or, if you lil^e it better, send 
 another to him. Should he be the man you suppose, the whole can be 
 easily arranged by the light of morning." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL, 499 
 
 ** And so shall it be," said Casbel, in a deep, low voice. 
 
 " If this life of luxury has not unsteadied your finger, I'd not take 
 his place for half your fortune." 
 
 A short motion of the head from Cashel seemed to concur with this 
 speech. 
 
 " How I wish you were to be with me, Enriquez !" said he, after a 
 silence of some minutes. 
 
 '' So should I, Roland ; but you will not need me : were there two 
 to bring to reckoning, I'd stay, cost what it might. And here we say 
 farewell." They had walked together, during this colloquy, to the 
 high-road, which, on one side, leads towards Tubbermore, and, on the 
 other, to Limerick. 
 
 Cashel held his comrade's hand fast clasped in his own, without 
 speaking. The sense of isolation had never struck him so forcibly as 
 now that, having met an old and attached friend, he was about to part 
 with him so suddenly. It appeared to darken his solitude into some- 
 thing more lonely still. 
 
 '* I'd have thought that all this wealth had made you happier," said 
 Enriquez, as he gazed at the sorrow-struck features of his friend. 
 
 " Neither happier nor better," said Roland, mournfully. 
 
 " There ! see yonder," cried Enriquez, " where you see the lamps 
 flashing ; those are the carriages of your gay company. Remember 
 that you are the host to-night ; and so, good-bye." 
 
 *' Good-bye, my old comrade." 
 
 " One word more," said Enriquez. " Be not weak-hearted — trust 
 none of them — they are false, every one : some, from envy ; some, from 
 treachery; some, from that fickleness that they fancy to be know- 
 ledge of life ; but all are alike. And so, till we meet again at Na- 
 ples." 
 
 " At Naples," echoed Cashel ; and, with head bent down, pursued 
 his way homeward. 
 
 2k2 
 
500 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 Warmth may suit the gen'rous fool ; 
 The deeper knave must aye be cool. 
 
 Bell. 
 
 Rapidly as carriage after carriage rolls up the broad approach to 
 Tubbermore, the lamps flashing and glittering through the dark wood, 
 we must beg of our reader to turn back a few hours in our history, and 
 follow the steps of Mr. Linton, as, leaving the cottage, he turned towards 
 the "Great House." 
 
 Probably, to a mind constituted like his, there could be no more 
 poignant sense of sorrow and regret tlian that experienced in conse- 
 quence of a sudden and irrepressible burst of passion. It was a great 
 fault — the greatest he could commit. In justice to him, we will own 
 it was of the very rarest in occurrence. His outbreaks of anger, like 
 his moments of calm, were all studied beforehand ; and nothing short of 
 a catastrophe, unexpected and overwhelming, could have surprised him 
 into the fatal excess of which his interview with Corrigan was an 
 instance. 
 
 If repentance could have compensated for his sin, assuredly the 
 offence might have been effaced from the tablet of his misdeeds. Never 
 was sorrow more true, heartfelt, and cutting. He called none of his 
 accustomed casuistry to aid him in softening down his fault; he saw it 
 in all the breadth of its enormity, as a foul blot upon that system of 
 deceit in which years of practice had made him so perfect. He felt 
 compromised by himself; and possibly, to a cunning man, this is the 
 bitterest of all self-reproaches. 
 
 Very little consideration was needed to show that, so far as Corrigan 
 went, reconciliation was impossible. He knew the old man too well to 
 have a doubt upon that subject. What, then, was to be done ? In 
 which was the most profitable channel to turn the stream of coming 
 events ? Were Cashel a man of different mould, there would be no 
 price too high to pay for that document which stood between him and 
 his title to the estate. It was all the difference between rank and 
 obscurity — between wealth and want — between the condition of an 
 estated gentleman and the assumption of a mere pretender. Wide as 
 the alternatives lay, Linton knew they would not affect Cashel's mind. 
 He foresaw clearly that, in a burst of his " most virtuous probity," he 
 would declare Corrigan the rightful owner of the estate, and walk 
 forth into the world as poor as when he began it. With Cashel, 
 therefore, all treaty would be impossible. The next consideration was, 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 501 
 
 what terms might be made with Corrigan through Tiernay. The 
 rough frankness of the old Doctor had always been reckoned by Linton 
 as a commonplace trick of certain coarse minds, to simulate honesty 
 and straightforwardness. He believed that mankind consisted of but 
 two categories — the knave and the fool : he who was not one, must 
 necessarily be the other. Now, an acute study of Tiernay persuaded 
 him that he was a shrewd, sound-headed man, whose very profession 
 had trained him into habits of investigation ; and thought there could 
 be little doubt, therefore, into which class he fell. There was^ more- 
 over, this advantage in treating with him, that neither personal feeling 
 nor pride of station would interfere with the negotiation ; he would 
 entertain the question in the simple light of a bargain — so much for so 
 much. The unlncky release of all claim upon their property was, of 
 course, to be thought of — as deteriorating, if not altogether invalidating, 
 the title ; but of this it might be possible, perhaps, to obtain posses- 
 sion. Cashel's papers must be ransacked throughout ; it was very un- 
 likely that he had taken an unusual care of it, so that Linton was far 
 from supposing that this would present a serious difficulty. But why 
 had he not thought of this before ? Why had he suffered his disap- 
 pointment to blind him to what was so palpable ? " So much for 
 thinking the game won ere it is finished," exclaimed he ; " but who 
 would have thought Linton should make this blunder !" 
 
 To treat with Tiernay, then, realised every advantage he could think 
 of. It offered the prospect of better terms, an easier negotiation ; and 
 it presented one feature of inestimable merit in his eyes — it afforded the 
 means of gratifying his hatred against Cashel, without the vengeance 
 costing him anything. This thought, for a while, left him incapable of 
 entertaining every other. Cashel reduced to poverty — humiliated to 
 the position of an adventurer who had obtained a property under false 
 pretences — was a picture he could never weary of contemplating. What 
 a glorious consummation of revenge, could he have involved one other in 
 the ruin ! — if Laura had been the companion of his fall ! But that 
 scheme had failed: a friendship — a perilous one, 'tis true — had sprung 
 up where Linton had sowed the seeds of a very different passion ; and 
 nothing remained but to involve them both in the disgrace and ruin 
 which a separation and its consequences could inflict. Even this, thought 
 he, will now be no trifling penalty — the " millionnaire " Roland Cashel 
 would have conferred an cclat on the fall, that would become ludicrous 
 when associated with the name of a mere adventurer. 
 
 If thoughts of these vengeances afforded the most intense pleasure to 
 his vindictive mind, there came, ever and anon, deep regrets at the loss 
 of that greater game for which he had planned and plotted so anxiously. 
 
502 ROLAND CASIIEL. 
 
 That noble fortune which he had ahnost held within his grasp — that 
 high station from which he would have known how to derive all its advan- 
 tages — the political position he had so long ambitioned — were now all 
 to flit from before his eyes like the forms of a dream, unreal and im- 
 possible. 
 
 So intently had he pursued these various reasonings, that he utterly 
 forgot everything of his late interview with Dan Keaiie; and when the 
 remembrance did flash upon him, the efl'ect was almost stunning. The 
 crime would now be useless, so far as regarded Linton's own advantage. 
 Mary Leicester could never be his wife : Why, then, involve himself, 
 however remotely, in a deed as profitless as it was perilous ? No time 
 should be lost about this. He must see Keane immediately, and dis- 
 suade him from the attempt. It would be easy to assure him that the 
 whole was a misconception — a mistake of meaning. It was not neces- 
 sary to convince — it was enough to avert the act ; but this must be 
 done at once. 
 
 So reflecting, Linton took his way to the Gate Lodge, which lay a 
 considerable distance off*. The space afibrded much time for thought, 
 and he was one whose thoughts travelled fast. His plans were all matured 
 and easy of acomplishment. After seeing Keane, he would address a 
 few lines to Tiernay, requesting an interview on the following morning. 
 That night, he resolved, should be his last at Tubbermore : the mas- 
 querade had, as may be conjectured, few charms for one whose mind 
 was ch arged with heavier cares. 
 
 But still it would give him an occasion to whisper about his scandal on 
 Lady Kilgofl", and, later on, give him the opportunity of searching Cashel's 
 papers for that document he wished to obtain. 
 
 On reaching the Gate Lodge, under pretence of lighting his cigar he 
 entered the house, where, in all the squalid misery of their untractable 
 habits, Keane's wife sat, surrounded by her ragged children. 
 
 " Dan is at work, I suppose?" said he carelessly. 
 
 " No, yer honour ; he went out early this morning to look after a little 
 place for us, as the master is goin' to turn us out." 
 
 "I'm sorry for that," said he compassionately ; "land is dear, and 
 hard to be got now-a-days. Why don't he go to America?" 
 
 " Indeed an' I don't know^ sir. They say it's the asy place to gain a 
 livin' ; fine pay and little to do for it." 
 
 Linton smiled at an encomium, for whose accuracy he would not 
 have vouched ; and then tried to ascertain, in the same careless fashion, 
 in what direction Keane had gone, but the woman could not tell. She 
 believed it was by the high road, but could not be certain, since he had 
 left the house shortly after daybreak. 
 
EOLAJ«fD CASHEL. 503 
 
 Linton sauntered out in deep thought. It was evident enough to him 
 what the object of that journey was : it needed no clue to track his 
 path. It was strange ; but now, when the deed was not to secure any 
 future benefits to himself, it appeared before his eyes in all the glaring 
 colours of its criminality. It was a cold-blooded and useless crime, and 
 he actually shuddered as he thought upon it. 
 
 Although he well knew that it would not be possible to connect him 
 in any way with the act, his conscience made him restless and uneasy, and 
 he would have given much that he had never mooted it. It was too late, 
 however, now, to think of these things : were he to mount his horse and 
 follow the fellow Keane, the chances of coming up with him were few. 
 The man would inevitably have concealed himself till the very moment 
 came ; and were Linton to be present at such a time, the fact of his 
 presence might, in such a remote and unfrequented spot, give rise 
 to the very worst suspicions. " Be it so," said he at length, and with 
 the tone of one who left the issue to fortune. He found himself now 
 upon the high road, and remembering that he was not far from Tiemay's 
 house, resolved on making a visit to the Doctor in person. It might so 
 happen hereafter that a question would arise where he had passed the 
 morning. There was no saying what turn events might take, and it 
 would be as well were he able to show that he had spent some time in 
 Tiernay's company ; and as, in such a critical moment, it would have 
 been far from wise to discuss any matter connected with Cashel's pro- 
 perty, it were safest to make the object of the visit appear an effort to 
 obtain Doctor Tiernay's kind mediation in the difference with Mr. 
 Corrigan. 
 
 To pass half an hour in his company, under any pretext, would be to 
 put on record his occupation on that morning : and, with this resolve, he 
 knocked at the door. 
 
 It was with a start of surprise Tiernay received Linton, as he entered 
 his study. 
 
 The Doctor arose from the chair where he had been sitting, and stood 
 in the attitude of one who desires by his very air and deportment to 
 express that he does not mean that the other should be seated. 
 
 " This is an honour. Sir," said he at last, " so undeserved on my part, 
 that I am at a loss how to acknowledge it." 
 
 "A little patience, and a little courtesy, are all I ask for. Dr. 
 Tiernay," replied Linton, while he placed a chair and seated himself 
 with the most perfect unconcern. " You may easily guess that I do 
 not intrude my presence upon you without what, at least seem to me 
 to be, sufficient reasons. Whether you may think them so or not, will 
 
504 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 in a great measure depend upon whether you prefer to be guided by the 
 false Hghts of an unjust prejudice, or the true illumination of your own 
 natural good sense and practical intelligence." 
 
 Tiernay sat down without speaking ; the appeal was made calmly and 
 dispassionately to him, and he felt that he could not but entertain it, 
 particularly as the scene was beneath his own roof. 
 
 Linton resumed, — 
 
 " Your friend — 1 hope the time is not distant when I maybe enabled 
 to say, and mine — Mr. Corrigan, acting under the greatest of all mis- 
 conceptions, mistaking my heartfelt zeal in his behalf for an undue 
 interference in his aflPairs, has to-day expressed himself towards me in a 
 manner so uncalled for, unfair, and ungenerous, that, considering the 
 position I sought to occupy in his regard, either bespeaks the existence 
 of some secret attack upon my character, or that a mere sudden caprice 
 of temper overbalances with him the qualities he has been gracious 
 enough to speak of in terms of praise and approbation." 
 
 Tiernay gave a short, dry, nod, whose significance was so very doubtful 
 that Linton stopped and stared at him, as if asking for further informa- 
 tion. 
 
 " I had made a proposition for the hand of his grandaughter," 
 resumed he ; " and surely my pretensions could not subject me to 
 rebuke?" 
 
 Tiernay nodded again, in the same puzzling way as before. 
 
 " Knowing the influence you possess in the family," resumed Linton ; 
 "seeing how much confidence they repose in your counsels, I have 
 thought it advisable to state to you that, although naturally indignant 
 at the treatment I have met with, and possibly carried away for a 
 moment by passion, my feelings regarding Miss Leicester are unchanged, 
 and, I believe, unchangeable." 
 
 Tiernay moved his head slightly, as though implying assent. 
 
 " Am I to understand, Sir, that my communication is pleasing to 
 you ?" said Linton, firmly. 
 
 " Very pleasing in every respect," said Tiernay. 
 
 "And I may reckon upon your kind offices in my behalf, Dr. 
 Tiernay ?"' 
 
 Tiernay shook his head negatively. 
 
 " Be kind enough to speak your mind more intelligibly. Sir ; for there 
 is need that we should understand each other here." 
 
 " I will be as explicit as you can desire, Sir. Your communication 
 was gratifying to me in so far, that it showed me how my old and 
 esteemed friend IVIr. Corrigan had thrown off the delusion in which he 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 505 
 
 had indulged regarding you, and saw you as I have always thought you 
 —a clever worldly man, without scruples as to his means when an 
 object had once gained possession of his wishes, and who never could 
 have dreamed of making Miss Leicester his wife were there not other 
 and deeper purposes to be attained by so doing." 
 
 '• You are candour itself, Sir," said Liuton ; " but I cannot feel offence 
 at a frankness I have myself asked for. Pray extend the favour, and 
 say what could possibly be these other and deeper purposes you allude 
 to ? What advantages could I propose myself by such an alliance, save 
 increased facihties of conversation with Dr. Tiernay, and more frequent 
 opportunities of indulging in ' tric-trac' with Mr. Corrigan." 
 
 Tiernay winced under the sarcasm, but only said, 
 
 " To divine your motives would be to become your equal in skill and 
 cleverness. I have no pretensions to such excellence." 
 
 " So that, you are satisfied with attributing to another, objects, for 
 which you see no reason and motive, and of which you perceive no 
 drift." 
 
 " I am satisfied to believe in much that I cannot fathom." 
 
 " We will pursue this no further," said Linton, impatiently. " Let us 
 reverse the medal. Mr. Corrigan's refusal of me, coupled with his un- 
 courteous conduct, may lead to unpleasant results. Is he prepared for 
 such ?' 
 
 "I have never known him to shrink from the consequences of his own 
 conduct," replied Tiernay, stedfastly. 
 
 " Even though that conduct should leave him houseless ?" whispered 
 Linton. 
 
 " It cannot. Sir, while / have a roof." 
 
 " Generously spoken, Sir," said Linton, while he threw his eyes over 
 the humble decorations of the chamber with an expression of contempt 
 there was no mistaking. 
 
 " Humble and poor enough it is, Sir," said Tiernay, answering tiie 
 glance, " but the fruit of honest industry. Neither a father's curse, nor a 
 mother's tear, hovers over one of the little comforts around me." 
 
 " An ancient Roman in virtue !" exclaimed Linton, affectedly. " How 
 sad, that our degenerate days so ill reward such excellence I" 
 
 *' You are wrong there, Sir. Even for merits poor and unobtrusive as 
 mine, there are tributes of affection more costly than great men know 
 of. There are those on every hand around me who would resign health, 
 and hope, and life itself, to do me service. There are some who, in their 
 rude zeal, would think little of making even Mr. Linton regret his 
 having needlessly insulted me. Aye, Sir, I have but to open that win- 
 
506 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 dow and speak one word, and you would sorely repent tins day's pro- 
 ceeding." 
 
 Linton sat calm and collected under this burst of anger, as though he 
 were actually enjoying the outbreak he had provoked. '' You have a 
 lawless population here, it would seem, then," said he, smiHng blandly, 
 as he rose from his seat. " I think the Government is badly rewarded 
 by bestowing its resources on such a neighbourhood. A police-barracks 
 would suit you better than a hospital, and so I shall tell Mr. Do\\Tiie 
 Meek." 
 
 Tiernay grew suddenly pale. The threat was too palpable to be 
 mistaken, nor was he sufficiently conversant with the world of policy to 
 detect its fallacy. 
 
 " Two hundred pounds a year," resumed Linton, " can be of no mo- 
 ment to one who is surrounded by such generous devotion, while some 
 respect for law or order will be a good ' alterative ;' — Isn't that the 
 phrase, Doctor ?" 
 
 Tiernay could not utter a word. Like many men who pass their 
 lives in seclusion, he had formed the most exaggerated ideas of the des- 
 potism of those in power ; he believed that for the gratification of a mere 
 whim or passing caprice they would not scruple at an act of oppression 
 that might lead to ruin itself ; he felt shocked at the peril to which a 
 hasty word had exposed him. Linton read him like a book, and gazing 
 fixedly at him, said, " Your craft has taught you little of worldly skiU, 
 Dr. Tiernay, or you would have seen that it is better to incur a pass- 
 ing inconvenience, than run the risk of a severe and perhaps fatal 
 misfortune. Methinks that a science of expediencies might have instilled 
 a few of its wise precepts into every-day life." 
 
 The Doctor stared, half in astonisnment, half in anger, but never 
 spoke. 
 
 " Reflect a little upon this point," said Linton, slowly ; " remember, 
 too, that a man like myself, who never acts without an object, may be 
 a very good associate for him who has neither courage nor energy for 
 action at all ; and lastly, bethink you that the subtlety and skill which 
 can make a useful friend, can become very readily the materials of a 
 dangerous enemy." 
 
 Linton knew well the force and significance of vagueness, either in 
 threat or promise ; and no sooner had he done speaking than he left the 
 room and the house ; while Tiernay, bewildered and terrified, sat down 
 to think over what had passed. 
 
 " He'll come to terms, I see that !" cried Linton to himself, as he 
 entered the Park of Tubbermore. '*' A little time — a sleepless night or 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 507 
 
 two — the uncertainty of that future, which to every man past fifty gets 
 another tinge of black with each year — will do the business, and FU 
 have him suing for the conditions he would now reject." 
 
 Never yet, however, had time been a greater object with Linton. The 
 host of creditors whom he had staved off for some months back — some, 
 by paying large sums on account j others, by the assurance that he was 
 on the eve of a rich marriage — would, at the very first semblance of his 
 defeat, return and overwhelm him. Many of his debts were incurred 
 to hiosh up play transactions, which if once made pubHc, his station in 
 society would be no longer tenable. Of his former associates, more 
 than one lived upon him by the mere menace of the past. Some were 
 impatient, too, at the protracted game he played with Roland, and 
 reproached him with not " finishing him off" long before, by cards and 
 the dice-box. Others, were indignant that they were not admitted to 
 the share of the spoil, with aU the contingent advantages of mixing in 
 a class where they might have found the most profitable acquaintances. 
 To hold all these in check had been a difficult matter, and few save 
 himself could have accomphshed it. To restrain them much longer 
 was impossible. With these thoughts he walked along, scarce noticing 
 the long string of carriages which now filled the avenue and hastened 
 towards the house. Occasionally a thought would cross his mind, 
 " What if the bullet had already done its work ? What if that vast 
 estate were now once more thrown upon the wide ocean of litigation ? 
 Would Corrigan prefer his claim again, or would some new suitor spring 
 up ? and if so, what sum could recompense the possession of that 
 pardon by which the whole property might be restored to its ancient 
 owners ?" Amid all these canvassings, no feeling arose for the fate of 
 him who had treated him as a bosom friend — not one regret, not so 
 much as one sensation of pity. True, indeed, he did reflect upon what 
 course to adopt when the tidings arrived. Long did he vacillate 
 whether Dan Keane should not be arrested on suspicion. There were 
 difficulties in either course, and, as usual, he preferred that coming 
 events should suggest their own conduct. 
 
 At last he reached the great house, but instead of entering by the 
 front door he passed into the court-yard, and gained his own apartment 
 unobserved. As he entered he locked the door, and placed the key in 
 such a manner that none could peep through the keyhole. He then 
 walked leisurely around the room; and although he knew there was no 
 other outlet, he cast a glance of scrutinising import on every side, as if 
 to ensure himself that he was alone. This done, he opened a small 
 cupboard in the wall behind his bed, and took forth the iron box, in 
 
508 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 which, since its discovery, he had always kept the pardon, as well as 
 the forged conveyance of Tubberbeg. 
 
 Linton placed the box before him on the table, and gazed at it in 
 a kind of rapture. " There," thought he, " lies the weapon by which at 
 once I achieve both fortune and revenge. Let events take what turn 
 they will, there, is a certain source of wealth. A great estate like this 
 will have its claimants : with me it rests who shall be the successful 
 one." 
 
 A hurried knocking at the door interrupted the current of these 
 musings; and Linton, having replaced the casket in the press, unlocked 
 the door. It was Mr. PhilHs, who, in all the gala of full dress, and with 
 a rare camelia in his button-hole, entered. 
 
 "Well, Phillis, is all going on as it ought?" said Linton, care- 
 lessly. 
 
 '' Scarcely so. Sir," said the soft-voiced functionary; "the house is 
 filling fast, but there is no one to receive the company ; and they are 
 walking about staring at each other, and asking who is to do the 
 honours." 
 
 " Awkward, certainly," said Linton, coolly ; " Lady Kilgoff ought 
 to have been the person." 
 
 " She is gone. Sir," said Philhs. 
 
 " Gone ! gone ! When, and where ?" 
 
 " I cannot say, Sir ; but my Lord and her Ladyship left this morning 
 early, with post-horses, taking the Dublin road." 
 
 Linton did not speak, but the swollen vein in his forehead, and the 
 red flush upon his brow, told how the tidings affected him. He had 
 long speculated on witnessing the agonies of her grief when the hour of 
 his revenge drew nigh ; and this ecstacy of cruelty was now to be denied 
 him. 
 
 " And my Lord — had he regained any consciousness ? or was he still 
 insensible ?" 
 
 " He appeared like a child, Sir, when they lifted- him into the car- 
 riage." 
 
 "And Lady Kilgoff?" 
 
 " She held her veil doubled over her face as she passed ; but I thought 
 she sighed, and even sobbed, as she handed me this letter." 
 
 " For Roland Cashel, Esquire," said Linton, reading as he took it. 
 " Did she speak at all, Phillis?" 
 
 " Not a word, Sir. It was a sad-looking procession altogether, moving 
 away in the dim gray of the morning." 
 
 Linton placed the letter in a rack upon the chimney, and for some 
 seconds was lost in thought. 
 
BOLAND CASHEL. 509 
 
 '^ If Lady Janet, Sir, would be kind enough to receive the company," 
 murmured PhilHs softly. 
 
 " Pooh, man, it is of no consequence !" said Linton roughly, his 
 mind dwelling on a very different theme. " Let who will play host or 
 hostess." 
 
 " Perhaps you would come down yourself soon, Sir?" asked PhilHs, 
 who read in the impatience of Linton's manner the desire to he alone, 
 and coupled that desire with some mysterious purpose. 
 
 *' Yes, leave me, Phillis ; I'm going to dress," said he, hurriedly. 
 " Has he returned yet ?" 
 
 " No, Sir ; and we expected him at five o'clock." 
 
 " And it is now nine," said £lie other solemnly; " four hours later !" 
 
 " It is very singular !" exclaimed Phillis, who was more struck by the 
 altered expression of Linton's face than by the common-place fact he 
 affected to marvel at. 
 
 " Why singular ? What is remarkable ? That a man should be de- 
 layed some time on a business matter, particularly when there was no 
 urgency to repair elsewhere?" 
 
 " Nothing more common, Sir ; only that Mr, Cashel said positively, 
 he should be here at five. He had ordered the cob-pony to be ready for 
 him — a sign that he was going to pay a visit at the cottage." 
 
 Linton made no reply, but his lips curled into a smile of dark and 
 ominous meaning. 
 
 " Leave me, Phillis," said he at length ; " I shall be late, with all this 
 cumbrous finery I am to wear." 
 
 " Shall I send your man, Sir ?" said Phillis, slily eyeing him as he 
 spoke. 
 
 '' Yes — no, Phillis — not yet. I'll ring for him later." 
 
 And with these words Linton seated himself in a large chair, appa- 
 rently unconscious of the other's presence. 
 
 Mr. Phillis withdrew noiselessly — but not far— for after advancing a 
 few steps along the corridor, he cautiously returned, and listened at the 
 door. 
 
 Linton sat for a few seconds, as if listening to the other's retreating 
 footsteps ; and then, noiselessly arising from his chair, he approached the 
 door of the chamber, at which, with bent down head, Phillis watched. 
 With a sudden jerk of the handle, Linton threw open the door, and 
 stood before the terrified menial. 
 
 " I was afraid you were ill, Sir. I thought your manner was 
 strange." 
 
 " Not half so strange as this conduct, Mr. Phillis," said Linton slowly, 
 as he folded his arms composedly on his breast. "Come in." He 
 
510 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 pointed, as he spoke, to the room ; but Phillis seemed reluctant to enter, 
 and made a gesture of excuse. " Come in, Sir," said Linton, peremp- 
 torily ; and he obeyed. Linton immediately locked the door, and placed 
 the key upon the chimneypiece ; then deliberately seating himself full 
 in front of the other, he stared at him long and fixedly. " So, Sir," 
 said he, at length, " you have thought fit to become a spy upon my 
 actions. Now, there is but one amende you can make for such 
 treachery ; which is, to confess frankly and openly what it is you want 
 to know, and what small mystery is puzzling your puny intelligence, 
 and making your nights sleepless. Tell me this candidly, and I'll 
 answer as freely." 
 
 " I have really nothing to confess, Sir. I was fearful lest you were 
 unwell. I thought — it was mere fancy, perhaps — that you were flurried 
 and peculiar this morning ; and this impression distressed me so, that — 
 that—" 
 
 *• That you deemed fit to watch me. Be it so. I have few secrets 
 from any one — I have none from my friends. You shall hear, therefore, 
 what — without my knowing it — has made me appear unusually agitated. 
 It was my intention to leave this house to-morrow, Phillis, and in the 
 preparation for my departure I was arranging my letters and papers, 
 among which I found a very considerable quantity that prudence would 
 consign to the flames; that is to say, if prudence were to be one-sided, 
 and had only regard for the interests of one individual where there were 
 two concerned. In plain language, Phillis, I was just about to burn the 
 mass of documents which fill that iron safe, and which it were to the 
 honour and credit of Mr. Phillis should be reduced to charcoal as speedily 
 as may be; the same being nothing more nor less than the accounts of 
 that 'honest steward,' pinned to the real and bona fide bills of Mr. CasheFs 
 tradespeople. There are, it is true, strange little discrepancies between 
 the two, doubtless capable of satisfactory explanation, but which, to plain 
 thinking m en like myself, are difficult to reconcile; and insome one or 
 two instances, a wine merchant's account, for example, and a saddler's 
 bill, savour somewhat of that indiscreet procedure people call forgery. 
 What a mistake, what an inadvertence, Phillis 1" 
 
 There was something of almost coaxing familiarity in the way Linton 
 uttered the last words ; and Phillis grew sick at heart as he listened to 
 them. 
 
 " A moment more, an instant later, and I had thrown them into the 
 fire; but your footsteps, as you walked away, sounded too purpose-like ; 
 you were so palpably honest that I began to suspect you. Eh, Phillis, 
 was I right ?" 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 511 
 
 Phillis essayed a smile, but his features only accomplished a ghastly 
 grin. 
 
 " I will keep them, therefore, where they are/' said Linton. " These 
 impulses of rash generosity are very costly pleasures ; and there is no 
 such good practical economy as to husband one's confidence." 
 
 " I'm sure„ su', I never thought I should have seen the day " 
 
 " Go on, man ; don't falter. What day do you mean ? that on which 
 you had attempted to outwit me .^ or, that on which I should show you 
 all the peril of your attempting it ? Aye, and there is peril, Mr. Phillis : 
 a felony whose punishment is transportation for life, is no small 
 offence." 
 
 " Oh, sir ! — oh, Mr. Linton ! forgive me," cried the other, in the 
 most abject voice. " I always believed that my devotion to your in- 
 terests would claim your protection." 
 
 " I never promised to further anything that was base or dishonest," 
 said Linton, with an air of assumed morality. 
 
 " You opened and read letters that were addressed to another; you 
 spied his actions, and kept watch upon all his doings ; you wrote letters 
 in his name, and became possessed of every secret of his life by 
 treachery ; you " 
 
 " Don't talk so loud, PhiUis ; say all you have to say to we." 
 
 " Oh dear. Sir, forgive me the burst of passion. I never meant it. 
 My temper carried me away in spite of me," And he burst into tears as 
 he spoke. 
 
 " What a dangerous temper, that may at any moment make a felon 
 of its owner ! Go, Phillis, there is no need of more between us. You 
 know me. I almost persuaded myself that I knew you. But if I know 
 anything, it is this," — here he approached, and laid his hand solemnly on 
 the other's shoulder — "that I would make hell itself the punishment of 
 him who injured me, were I even to share it with him." 
 
 Phillis's knees smote each other with terror, at the look that accom- 
 panied these words ; they were spoken without passion or vehemence, 
 but there was that in their tone that thrilled to his inmost heart. 
 Powerless, and overcome by his emotions, he could not stir from the 
 spot : he wanted to make explanations and excuses, but all his ingenuity 
 deserted him ; he tried to utter vows of attachment and fidelity, but 
 shame was too strong for him there also. He would have resorted to 
 menace itself rather than remain silent, but he had no courage for such 
 a hazardous course. Linton appeared to read in turn each change of 
 mood that passed across the other's mind ; and, after waiting as it were 
 to enjoy the confusion under which he suffered, said, — 
 
 "Just so, Phillis ; it is a sad scrape you fell into! but when a man 
 
512 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 becomes bankrupt, either in fame or fortune, it is but loss of time to 
 bewail the past ; the wiser course is to start in business again, and make 
 a character by a good dividend. Try that plan. Good bye !" 
 
 These words were a command ; and so Phillis understood them, as, 
 with a humble bow, he left the room. Linton again locked the door, 
 and drawing the table to a part of the room from which no eaves- 
 dropper at the door could detect it, he once more sat down at it. His 
 late scene with Phillis had left no traces upon his memory; such events 
 were too insignificant to claim any notice beyond the few minutes they 
 occupied ; his thoughts were now upon the greater game, where all his 
 fortune in life was staked. He took out the key, which he always wore 
 round his neck, and placed it in the lock : at the same instant the clock 
 on the chimney-piece struck ten. He sat still listening to the strokes ; and 
 when they ceased, he muttered, " Aye, mayhap cold enough ere this !" 
 A slight shuddering shook him as he uttered these words, and a dreamy 
 reverie seemed to gather around him ; but he arose, and walking to the 
 window, opened it. 1 he fresh breeze of the night rallied him almost at 
 once, and he closed the sash and returned to his place. 
 
 " To think that I should hold within my hands the destinies of those 
 whom most of all the world I hate!" muttered he, as he turned the key 
 and threw back the lid. The box was empty ! With a wild cry like the 
 accent of intense bodily pain, he sprang up and dashed both hands into 
 the vacant space, and then held them up before his eyes, like one who 
 could not credit the evidence of his own senses. The moment was a 
 terrible one, and for a few seconds the staring eyeballs and quivering 
 lips seemed to threaten the access of a fit; but reason at last assumed 
 the mastery, and he sat down before the table and leaned his head upon 
 it, to think. Twice before in life had it been his lot to lose a whole 
 fortune at one turn of the die, but never before had he staked all the 
 revengeful feelings of his bad heart, which, baffled in their flow, now 
 came back upon himself. 
 
 He sat thus for nigh an hour ; and when he arose at last, his features 
 were worn as though by a long illness ; and as he moved his fingers 
 through his hair, it came away in masses like that of a man after 
 fever. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 513 
 
 CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 So, then, we meet at last. — Harold. 
 
 As the rooms began to fill with company, costumed in every variety 
 that taste, fancy, or absurdity could devise, many were surprised that 
 neither was there a host to bid them welcome, nor was there any lady 
 to perform the accustomed honours of reception. The nature of the 
 entertainment, to a certain extent, took off from the awkwardness of 
 this want. In a masquerade, people either go to assume a part, 
 or to be amused by the representation of others, and are less dependent 
 on the attentions of the master or mistress of the house ; so that, how- 
 ever struck at first by the singularity of a fete without the presence of 
 the giver, pleasure, ministered to by its thousand appliances, over- 
 came this feehng, and few ever thought more of him beneath whose 
 roof they were assembled. 
 
 The rooms were splendid in their decoration, lighted " a giorno^* 
 and ornamented with flowers of the very rarest kind. The music con- 
 sisted of a celebrated orchestra and a regimental band, who played 
 alternately ; the guests, several hundred in number, were all attired in 
 fancy costumes, in which every age and nation foimd its type ; while 
 characters from well-known fictions abounded, many of them admirably 
 sustained, and dressed with a pomp and splendour that told the wealth 
 of the wearers. 
 
 It was truly a brilliant scene ; brilliant as beauty, and the glitter of 
 gems, and waving of plumes, and splendour of dress, could make it. 
 The magic impulse of pleasure communicated by the crash of music ; 
 the brilHant glare of wax lights ; the throng ; the voices ; the very 
 atmosphere tremulous with sounds of joy ; seemed to urge on all there 
 to give themselves up to enjoyment. There was a boundless, lavish air, 
 too, in all the arrangements. Servants in gorgeous liveries served 
 refreshments of the most exquisite kind. Little children, dressed as 
 pages, distributed bouquets, bound round with lace of Valenciennes or 
 Brussels, and occasionally fastened by strings of garnets or pearls. A 
 jet d'eau of rose-water cooled the air of the conservatory, and diffused 
 its delicious freshness through the atmosphere. There was something 
 princely in the scale of the hospitality ; and from every tongue words of 
 praise and wonder dropped at each moment. 
 
 Even Lady Janet, whose enthusiasm seldom rose much above the 
 
 2 L 
 
514 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 zero, confessed that it was a magnificent /e^e; adding, by way of com- 
 pensation for her eulogy, " and worthy of better company." 
 
 Mrs. White was in ecstasies with everything, even to the cherubs in 
 pink gauze wings, who handed round sherbet, and whom she pro- 
 nounced quite " classical." The Kennyfecks were in the seventh 
 heaven of delight ; affecting little airs of authority to the servants, and 
 showing the strangers, by a hundred little devices, that all the mag- 
 nificence around was no new thing to them. Miss Kennyfeck, as the 
 Queen of Madagascar, was a most beautiful savage ; while Olivia ap- 
 peared as the fair " Gabrielle," — a sly intimation to Sir Harvey, whose 
 dress as Henri IV. won universal admiration. Then, there were the 
 ordinary number of Turks, Jews, Sailors, Circassians, Greeks, Highland 
 chiefs, and Indian jugglers ; "Jim" figuring as a Newmarket "Jock," 
 to the unbounded delight and wonderment of every " Sub" in the 
 room. 
 
 If in many quarters the question ran, " Where is Mr. Cashel ?" or, 
 " Which is he?" Lady Janet had despatched Sir Andrew, attired as a 
 " Moonshee," to find out Linton for her. " He is certain to know every 
 one here : tell him to come to me at once," said she, sitting down near 
 a doorway to watch the company. 
 
 While Lady Janet is waiting for him — who, better than any other, 
 could explain the mysterious meaning of many a veiled figure, unravel 
 the hidden wickedness of every chance allusion, or expound the secret 
 malice of each calembourg or jest — let us track his wanderings, and fol- 
 low him as he goes. 
 
 Throwing a large cloak over his brilliant dress, Linton made his way 
 by many a bye-stair and obscure passage to the back of the theatre, 
 by which the secret approach led to Cashel's dressing-room. Often as 
 he had trod that way before, never had he done so in the same state of 
 intense excitement. With the loss of the papers, he saw before him 
 not alone the defeat of every hope he nurtured, but discovery, shame, 
 and ruin ! He whose whole game in life was to wield power over others, 
 now saw himself in the grasp of some one, to whom he had not the 
 slightest clue. At one moment his suspicions pointed to Cashel himself, 
 then to Tiernay, and lastly to Phillis. Possibly rage has no bitterer 
 moment than that in which an habitual deceiver of others first finds 
 himself in the toils of treachery. There was over his mind, besides, that 
 superstitious terror, that to unbelieving intellects stands in place of 
 religion, which told him that luck had turned with him ; that fortune, 
 so long favourable, had changed at last ; and that, in his own phrase, " the 
 run had set in against him." Now, a half-muttered curse would burst 
 from his lips over the foolhardiness that had made him so dilatory, and 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 515 
 
 not suffered him to reap the harvest when it was ripe ; now, a deep- 
 breathed vow, that if fate were propitious once again, no matter how 
 short the interval, he would strike his blow, come what might of it. 
 Sometimes he blamed himself for having deserted the safe and easy 
 road to ruin by play, for the ambitious course he had followed ; at other 
 times he inveighed against his folly for not carrying off Mary Leicester 
 before Cashel had acquired any intimacy at the cottage. Burning and 
 balf-maddened with this conflict of regrets and hopes, he touched the 
 spring, moved back the panel, and entered Cashel's room. 
 
 His first care w^as to see that the door from the corridor was secured 
 on the inside ; his next, to close the shutters and draw the curtains. 
 These done, he lighted the candles on the table, and proceeded to make 
 a systematic search through the entire chamber. " It is my last visit 
 here," said he to himself; "I must take care to do my work cleanly." 
 A mass of papers had been that morning left behind him by Cashel, 
 most of them legal documents referring to his transactions with Hoare ; 
 but some were memoranda of his intentions respecting Corrigan, and 
 plainly showing that Cashel well remembered he had never completed 
 the assignment to Linton. " If Keene's hand has not faltered," muttered 
 he, *' Master Roland's memory will not be taxed in this world, at least; 
 but where to discover the deed, that is the question." In his anxiety 
 on this head, he ransacked drawers and cabinets with wild and furious 
 haste, strewing their contents around him, or wantonly throwing them 
 on the fire. With false keys for every lock, he opened the most secret 
 depositories — scarce glancing at letters which at any other time he had 
 devoured with interest. Many were from Lady Kilgoff, warning Cashel 
 against him ; his own name, seen passingly, would arrest his attention 
 for a second, but the weightier interest soon intervened, and he would 
 throw the papers from him with contempt. *' How shrewd ! how very 
 cunning!" muttered he, once or twice, as his glance caught some 
 suspicion, some assumed clue to his own motives, in her well known 
 handwriting. Baffled by the unsuccessful result of his search, he stood 
 in the midst of the floor, surrounded by open boxes, the contents of 
 which were strewn on every side ; rage and disappointment were de- 
 picted in his features ; and, as his clenched hand struck the table, his 
 whole expression became demoniac. Curses and deep blasphemies fell 
 from his half-moving lips, as he stood insensible to ever}i;hing save the 
 wreck of his long-cherished hope. 
 
 Let us turn from him to another, in whose fortunes we are more in- 
 terested. Roland Cashel, after parting with Enrlquez, hastened on 
 towards Tubbermore ; his thoughts engaged on every topic save that 
 which might be supposed to occupy the mind of a host at such a time. 
 
 2l2 
 
516 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Pleasure assuredly held a weaker hold upon him than the thirst for ven- 
 geance, and the ardent longing* to throw off the thraldom of that servi- 
 tude he had endured too long. 
 
 It was only by observing the long string of carriages, whose lamps 
 flashed and disappeared at intervals among the trees, that he remem- 
 bered anything of the fete, and bethought him of that character of enter- 
 tainer, he, at the moment, should have been performing. There seemed 
 to him a terrible inconsistency between his own thoughts and that scene 
 of pleasure ! between the object in pursuit of which so many were 
 hastening with furious speed, and that, to which his slower steps were 
 leading him ! 
 
 " There can be but one amende for such infamous conduct," muttered 
 he; " he shall pay it with his life's blood." And as he spoke, he opened 
 the documents which Enriquez had given him, and endeavoured to read 
 them : the dusky shadows of the fast falling night prevented him, and 
 he stood for some minutes lost in thought. 
 
 One of the papers, he was aware, bore the forged signature of his 
 name ; the other, whose antique form and massive seal bespoke an im- 
 portance far greater, he tried again and again to decipher, but in vain. 
 As he was thus occupied, he chanced to look up, and suddenly perceived 
 that a stream of light issued from between the shutters of his own 
 dressing-room, the door of which he had himself locked at his de- 
 parture, taking the key along with him. Enriquez's words flashed 
 across his memory at once. It was Linton was there ! " At his old work 
 again," muttered he, in deep anger ; " but it shall be for the last time.'' 
 A moment of coming peril was all that Cashel needed to elicit the re- 
 sources of his character. The courage tried in many a danger supplied 
 him with a calm foresight, which the ordinary occasions of life rarely or 
 never called forth. He bethought him that it were best at such a con- 
 juncture to deposit the sealed document in some place of safety, ere he 
 went forth upon an enterprise the result of which must be doubtful : for 
 all purposes of confronting Linton, it were sufficient to take the forged 
 deed along with him. These were conclusions formed as rapidly as they 
 occurred, and acted upon no less speedily ; for, folding up the parch- 
 ment, he inserted it into a cleft in an aged elm-tree, noting well the 
 spot, and marking all the signs by which he would be able to return to 
 it. His next thought was, how to reach his chamber: to enter the 
 house at such a time undiscovered, was of course out of the question ; 
 he would be seen and recognised at once, and then there would be an 
 end for ever of all the secrecy by which he hoped to cover the proceed- 
 ings with Linton. 
 
 It neither suited his inclinations, nor his plans, that the world should 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 517 
 
 be a party to his vengeance. " Let them discover it when it is over," 
 said he, " but let them not be able to interfere with its course." All 
 approach to his dressing-room through the house being thus impracti- 
 cable, nothing remained but to reach it from without. The chamber 
 was in the second story of the building, at a great height from the 
 ground ; but the walls were here covered with thick ivy of ancient 
 growth, and by this Cashel resolved to make the attempt. 
 
 The act was not devoid of danger ; but there are times when peril is 
 a relief to the mad conflict of thought, and this was such a moment to 
 Cashel. In an instant he made himself ready for the attempt, and with 
 an activity that many a danger had tested, began the ascent. There 
 are occasions when rashness is safety, and now, the headlong intrepidity 
 of Roland's attempt proved its security ; for at each step, as the ivy gave 
 way beneath his grasp or his footing, by an upward spring he reached 
 another spot, which in its turn broke with his weight : every instant 
 the danger increased, for the frail tendrils grew weaker as he ascended, 
 and beneath him the jagged and drooping branches hung down in 
 ruinous disorder. By one bold spring he reached the window-sill, and 
 after a momentary struggle, in which his athletic frame saved him from 
 certain death, he gained a footing upon the stone, and was able to see 
 what was passing within the room. 
 
 At a table covered with papers and open letters, Linton sat, searching 
 with eager haste for the missing documents ; open boxes and presses 
 on every side rifled of their contents were seen, some of which lay in 
 disordered masses upon the floor — some, in charred heaps within the 
 fender. As the light fell upon his features, Cashel remarked that they 
 were lividly pale — ^the very lips were colourless ; his hands, too, trembled 
 violently as they moved among the papers, and his mouth continued to 
 be moved by short convulsive twitches. To Roland, these signs of 
 suffering conveyed a perfect ecstasy of pleasure. That care-worn, 
 haggard face — that tremulous cheek and lustreless eye, were already an 
 instalment of his vengeance. 
 
 There was one box which contained many of Cashel's early letters, 
 when he was following the wild buccaneering life of the West ; and 
 this, secured by a lock of peculiar construction, Linton had never suc- 
 ceeded in opening. It stood before him, as with a last effort he tried 
 every art upon it. The hinges alone seemed to offer a prospect of 
 success, and he was now endeavouring to remove the fastenings of these. 
 With more of force than skill, for defeat had rendered him impatient, 
 Linton had already loosened the lid, when Cashel burst open the sash 
 with one vigorous blow, and leaped into the room. 
 
 The terrible crash of the shattered window made Linton spring 
 
518 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 round ; and there he stood, confronted with the other — each, motionless 
 and silent. In Cashel's steady, manly form, there was a very world of 
 indignant contempt ; and Lintcn met the gaze with a look of deadly 
 hatred. All the dissimulation by which he could cover over a treachery 
 was at an end ; his deceit was no longer of use, and he stood forth in 
 the full courage of his scoundrelism — bold, steady, and assured. 
 
 " This admits of no excuse — no palliation," said Cashel, as he pointed 
 to the open letters and papers which covered the floor ; and although 
 the words were uttered calmly, they were more disconcerting than if 
 given with passionate vehemence. 
 
 " I never thought of any," replied Linton, collectedly. 
 
 " So much the better, Sir. It seems to me, frankness is the only 
 reparation you can make for past infamy !" 
 
 " It may be the only one you will be disposed to ask for," said Linton, 
 sneeringly. 
 
 Cashel grew fiery red. To taunt him with want of courage was 
 something so unexpected — for which he was so totally unprepared — 
 that he lost his self-possession, and in a passionate tone exclaimed, 
 
 " Is it you who dare to say this to me ? You, whose infamy has need 
 but to be published abroad, to make every one, who calls himself, * Gen- 
 tleman,' shun your very contact !" 
 
 " This punctilious reverence for honour does infinite credit to your 
 Buccaneer education," said Linton, whose eyes sparkled with malignant 
 delight at the angry passion he had succeeded in evoking. " The 
 friendship of escaped felons must have a wondrous influence upon 
 refinement." 
 
 "Enough, Sir!" cried Cashel. "How came you into the room, 
 since the key of it is in my pocket ?" 
 
 " Were I to inform you," said Linton, " you would acknowledge it 
 was by a much more legitimate mode than that by which you effected 
 your entrance." 
 
 "You shall decide which is the pleasanter, then!" cried Cashel, as 
 he tore open the window, and advanced in a menacing manner towards 
 the other. 
 
 " Take care, Cashel," said Linton, in a low, deliberate voice ; " I am 
 armed !" 
 
 And while he spoke, he placed one hand within the breast of his 
 coat, and held it there. Quick as was the motion, it was not sudden 
 enough to escape the flashing eye of Roland, who sprang upon him, 
 and seized his wrist with a grasp that nearly jammed the bones to- 
 gether. 
 
 " Provoke me a little farther," cried he, "and, by Heaven, I'll not give 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 519 
 
 you the choice or chance of safety, but hurl you from that window as I 
 would the meanest housebreaker." 
 
 " Let me free, let me loose, Sir," said Linton, in a low, weak voice, 
 which passion, not fear, had reduced to a mere whisper. " You shall 
 have the satisfaction you aim at, when, and how, j^ou please." 
 
 " By daylight to-morrow, at the boat-quay beside the lake." 
 
 " Agreed. There is no need of witnesses — we understand each other." 
 
 " Be it so. Be true to your word, and none shall hear from me the 
 reasons of our meeting, nor what has occurred here this night." 
 
 " I care not if all the world knew it," said Linton, insolently ; " I 
 came in quest of a lost document— one, which I had my reasons to sus- 
 pect had fallen into your possession." 
 
 " And of whose forgery I have the proofs," said Cashel, as, opening 
 the deed, he held it up before Linton's eyes. "Do you see that ?' 
 
 " And do you know, Cashel," cried Linton, assuming a voice of slow 
 and most deliberate utterance, " that your own title to this property is 
 as valueless and as worthless as that document you hold there ? Do you 
 know that there is in existence a paper which, produced in an open court 
 of justice, would reduce you to beggary, and stamp you besides as an im- 
 postor? It may be that you are well aware of that fact; and that the same 
 means by which you have possessed yourself of what was mine, has de- 
 livered into your hands this valuable paper. But the subtlety is thrown 
 away; / am cognizant of its existence ; / have even shown it to another; 
 and on me it depends whether you live here as a master, or walk forth 
 in all the exposure of a cheat." 
 
 The nature of this announcement, its possible truth, added to the con- 
 summate effrontery of him who made it, contributed to render Cashel 
 silent, for he was actually stunned by what he heard. Linton saw the 
 effect, but mistook its import. He believed that some thought of a com- 
 promise was passing through a mind where vengeance alone predomi- 
 nated; and in this error he drew nearer to him, and in a voice of cool and 
 calm persuasion added, 
 
 " That you could pilot the course through all these difficulties, no one 
 knows better than yourself to be impossible. There is but one living 
 able to do so, and / am that one." 
 
 Cashel started back, and Linton went on. 
 
 " There is no question of friendship between us here. It is a matter 
 of pure interest and mutual convenience that binds us. Agree to my 
 terms, and you are still the owner of the estate ; reject them, and you 
 are as poor as poverty and exposure can make you." 
 
 " Scoundrel!" said Cashel. It was all that he could utter : the fulness 
 of his passion had nearly choked him, as, taking a heavy riding-glove 
 
520 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 from the table, he struck Linton with it across the face. " If there be 
 any manhood in such a wretch, let this provoke it !" 
 
 Linton's hand grasped the weapon he carried within his coat, but 
 with a quick short stroke Cashel struck down his arm, and it fell power- 
 less to his side. 
 
 " You shall pay dearly for this — dearly, by Heaven !" cried Linton, 
 as he retired towards the door. 
 
 "Go, Sir," said Cashel, flinging it wide open, "and go quickly, or 
 I may do that I should be sorry for." 
 
 " You have done that you will be sorry for, if it costs me my life's 
 blood to buy it." And with these words, delivered in a voice guttural 
 from rage, Linton disappeared, and Cashel stood alone in the centre of 
 the room, overwhelmed by the terrible conflict of his passions. 
 
 The room littered with papers — the open boxes scattered on every 
 side — his own hands cut and bleeding from the broken glass of the win- 
 dow — his dress torn from the recent exertion — were evidences of the 
 past ; and it seemed as though without such proofs he could not credit 
 his memory, as to events so strange and stunning. 
 
 To restore something like order to his chamber, as a means of avoid- 
 ing the rumours that would be circulated by servants ; to write some 
 letters — the last, perhaps, he should ever indite ; to dress and appear 
 among his company ; to send for some one with whom he might confer, 
 as to his affairs, — such were the impulses that alternately swayed him, 
 and to which he yielded by turns — now, seating himself at his table ; 
 now, hastening hither and thither, tossing over the motley livery of 
 distasteful pleasure ; or handling, with the rapture of revenge, the 
 weapons by which he hoped to wreak his vengeance. The only fear 
 that dwelt upon his mind was, lest Linton should escape him — lest by 
 any accident this, which now appeared the great business of his life, 
 should go unacquitted. Sometimes he reproached himself for having 
 postponed the hour of vengeance, not knowing what chances might in- 
 tervene, what accidents interrupt the course of his sworn revenge. For- 
 tune, wealth, station, love itself, had no hold upon him : it was that 
 mad frame of mind where one sole thought predominates, and, in its 
 mastery, makes all else subordinate. Would Linton be true to the 
 rendezvous ? — Could such a man be a coward ? — Would he compass the 
 vengeance he had threatened by other means ? — were questions that con- 
 stantly occurred to his mind. 
 
 If the sounds of music and the clangour of festivity did break in upon 
 this mood from time to time, it was but to convey some indistinct and 
 shadowy impression of the inconsistency between his sad brooding and 
 the scene by which he was surrounded — between the terrible conflict 
 within him, and the wild gaiety of those who wasted no thought upon him. 
 
ROLAJO) CASHEL. 521 
 
 CHAPTER LXII. 
 
 Amid their feasting and their joy 
 A cry of "Blood!" was heard. 
 
 It was past midnight, and the scene within the walls of Tubbermore 
 was one of the most brilliant festivity. All that could fascinate by 
 beauty — all that could dazzle by splendour, or amuse by fancy, or en- 
 liven by wit, were there, stimulated by that atmosphere of pleasure in 
 which they moved. Loveliness elevated by costume — grace rendered 
 more attractive by the licensed freedom of the hour — gaiety exalted 
 into exuberant joyousness by the impulse of a thousand high-beating 
 hearts — passed and re-passed, and mingled together, till they formed 
 that brilliant assemblage wherein individuality is lost, and the memory 
 carries away nothing but dreamy images of enjoyment, visions of liquid 
 eyes and silky tresses, of fair rounded arms and fairy feet, with stray 
 syllables that linger on the ear and vibrate in the heart for many a 
 long year to come. 
 
 It would have been difficult to imagine that one, even one, amid that 
 gorgeous throng, had any other thought than pleasure, so headlong 
 seemed the impulse of enjoyment. In vain the moralist might have 
 searched for any trace of that care which is believed to be the unceasing 
 burden of humanity. Even upon those who sustained no portion of the 
 briUiancy around them, pleasure had set its seal. Lady Janet herself 
 wondered, and admired, and stared, in an ecstacy of delight she could 
 neither credit nor comprehend. It was true, Linton's absence — "unac- 
 countable" as she called it — was a sad drawback upon her enjoyment. 
 Yet her own shrewdness enabled her to penetrate many a mystery, and 
 detect beneath the dusky folds of more than one domino those who a 
 few moments previous had displayed themselves in all the splendour of a 
 gorgeous costume. 
 
 In vain did Lord Charles Frobisher cover his Tartar dress with a 
 Laplander's cloak and hood, to follow Miss Meek unnoticed. In vain 
 did Upton abandon his royalty as Henri IV. for a Dominican's cowl, 
 the better to approach a certain fair nun with dark blue eyes : Lady 
 Janet whispered, " Take care, Olivia," as she passed her. Even Mrs. 
 Leicester AVhite, admirably disguised as a Gipsy Fortune-teller, did not 
 dare to speculate upon Lady Janet's 'future" — possibly, out of fear of her 
 " present." Mr. Howie alone escaped detection ; as, dressed to represent 
 the Obehsk of the " Lucqsor," he stood immovable in the middle of the 
 room, listening to everybody, and never supposed to be anything but an 
 inanimate ornament of the saloon. 
 
522 BOIAND CASHEL. 
 
 It was only when a minuet was about to be formed, and a question 
 arose as to whether the obelisk could not be removed, that the Egyp- 
 tian monument was seen slowly sidling off amidst the company, to the 
 great amusement of all who had not opened their confidences beneath 
 its shadow. For an instant, the laughter that circulated in many a 
 distant group was directed to this quarter, and bursts of merriment were 
 excited by the absurdity of the incident. With that mysterious instinct 
 by which moods of joy or grief are perpetuated from heart to heart, till 
 each in a crowded assembly is moved as is his neighbour, the whole 
 room shook with convulsive laughter. It was just then — at the very 
 moment when boundless pleasure filled every avenue of feeling — a 
 terrible cry, shrill and piercing, burst upon the air. All was still — still 
 as a lone church at midnight. Each gazed upon the other, as if silently 
 asking, had he heard the sound? Again it came, louder and nearer ; and 
 then a long loud swelling chaunt rung out, wild and frantic as it rose, 
 till it died away in a cadence of the very saddest and dreariest meaning. 
 
 " What is it ? — What can it be ?" were uttered by many in broken 
 voices ; while others, too much terrified to speak, sank half fainting upon 
 their seats, their colourless cheeks and livid lips in terrible contrast to 
 their gay attire. 
 
 " There ! — listen to it again ! — Good heaven ! what can it be ?" 
 
 "It's a death 'keen!'" said a country gentleman, a magistrate 
 named Goring ; " something must have happened among the people !'* 
 
 And now, none knew from what quarter arising, or by whom spoken, 
 but the dreadful word " Murder" was heard through the room. Many 
 issued forth to ask for tidings ; some, stayed to assure and rally the droop- 
 ing courage of others ; some, again, divested of the " motley," moved 
 hurriedly about, seeking for this one or that. All was terror, confusion, 
 and dismay. 
 
 " Oh, here is Mr. Linton 1" cried several, as with his domino on his 
 arm, pale, and like one terror-struck, he entered the room. " What 
 is't, Mr. Linton ? Do you know what has happened ?" 
 
 " Get Mrs. Kenny feck and the girls away," whispered he to a friend, 
 hurriedly ; " tell them something — anything — but take them from this." 
 
 " What?" exclaimed Meek, to whom Linton had whispered some- 
 thing, but in a voice too low to be clearly audible. 
 
 " Kennyfeck is murdered !" said Linton louder. 
 
 As if the terrible tidings had floated on the air, in an instant it was 
 on every tongue, and vibrating in every ear ; and then, in heart-rending 
 screams of passionate grief, the cry of the widow and her children burst 
 forth, cry following cry in wild succession. Seized with an hysteric 
 paroxysm, Mrs. Kennyfeck was carried to her room; while of her 
 
ROLAl^D CASHEL. S^ 
 
 daughters, the elder sat mute, speechless, and to all seeming- insensible ; 
 the younger, struggling in convulsive passion to go to her father. 
 
 What a scene was that ! How dreadful to mark the symbols of levity, 
 — the decorations by which Pleasure would mock the stern realities of Life, 
 surrounded as they now were by suffering and sorrow ! to see the groups 
 as they stood ; some ministering to one who had fainted, others con- 
 versing in low and eager whispers. The joyous smiles, the bright 
 glances, were gone, as though they had been but masks assumed at will ; 
 tears furrowed their channels through the deep rouge, and convulsive sobs 
 broke from beneath corsets where joy alone had vibrated before. While 
 in the ball-room the scene was one of terror and dismay, a few had 
 withdrawn into a small apartment adjoining the garden, to consult upon 
 what the emergency might require. These were drawn together by 
 Linton, and included Sir Andrew M'Farline, the Chief Justice, Meek, 
 and a few others of lesser note. In a few words Linton informed them 
 that he heard the tidings as he passed through the hall ; — that a 
 peasant, taking the mountain-path to Scarilf, had come upon the spot 
 where the murder was committed, and found the body still warm but 
 lifeless ; " he also found this weapon, the bore of which was dirty from a 
 recent discharge as he took it up." 
 
 ** Why, this pistol is Mr. Cashel's !" exclaimed Sir Andrew, examining 
 the stock closely ; "I know it perfectly — I have fired with it myself a 
 hundred times." 
 
 " Impossible, my dear Sir Andrew !" cried Linton, eagerly. " You 
 must be mistaken." 
 
 " Where is Mr. Cashel ?" asked the Chief Justice. 
 
 " No one seems to know," replied Linton. " At a very early hour 
 this morning he left this in company with poor Kennyfeck. It would 
 appear that they were not on the best of terms together ; at least some 
 of the servants overheard angry words pass between them as they 
 drove away." 
 
 "Let us call these people before us," said Sir Andrew. 
 
 " Not at present. Sir. It would be premature and indiscreet," inter- 
 posed the Judge. Then turning to Linton, he added, " Well, Sir, and 
 after that ?" 
 
 " After that we have no tidings of either of them." 
 
 " I'll swear to the pistol, onyhow," said Sir Andrew, who sat staring 
 at the weapon, and turning it about in every direction. 
 
 " Of what nature were the differences between Cashel and Kennyfeck 
 supposed to be ?" asked Meek of Linton. 
 
 " It is impossible to collect, from the few and broken sentences which 
 have been reported ; possibly, dissatisfaction on Cashel's part at the diffi- 
 
524 ROLAJ^D CASHEL. 
 
 culty of obtaining money ; possibly, some misunderstanding about his 
 intentions regarding one of the girls, whom the Kennyfecks were silly 
 enough to suppose he was going to marry." 
 
 A slight tap at the door here arrested their attention. It was 
 Mr. Phillis, who came to say that footsteps had been heard in Mr. Cashel's 
 dressing-room, although it was well known he himself had not returned. 
 
 " Might he not have returned and entered his room unseen, Sir ?" said 
 the Chief Justice, who cast a shrewd and piercing look upon the valet. 
 
 " Scarcely, my Lord, since he is known to every servant in the house, 
 and people are passing and repassing in every direction.'' 
 
 " But there is every reason to believe that he has not returned at all," 
 interposed Linton. *' It is some one else has been heard in his dressing- 
 room." 
 
 "■ Would it not be as well to despatch messengers to Drumcoolaghan," 
 said Meek, " and assure ourselves of Cashel's safety? Up to this we are 
 ignorant if he have not shared the fate of poor Kennyfeck." 
 
 " The very suggestion I was about to make. I'll take Phillis along 
 with me, and set out this instant," cried Linton. 
 
 " We shall miss your assistance greatly here, Sir," said the Chief 
 Justice. 
 
 " Your Lordship overvalues my poor ability ; but I will hasten to the 
 utmost, and be soon back again." And thus saying, he left the room, 
 followed by Phillis. 
 
 " There must be an inquest at once," said the Chief Justice. *' The 
 Coroner has power to examine witnesses on oath ; and it seems to me 
 that some clue to the aflPair will present itself." 
 
 *' As to this room ; don't you think it were proper to inquire if any 
 one be really within it ?" asked Meek. 
 
 " Yes ; we will proceed thither, together," replied the Judge. 
 
 " I canna be mistaken in the pistol ; I'll swear to that," chimed in 
 Sir Andrew, whose whole thoughts were centered on that object. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Goring," said Meek, as that gentleman advanced to 
 meet them in the corridor, " have you obtained any clue to this sad 
 affair ?" 
 
 The magistrate drew near, and whispered a few words in the other's 
 ear. Meek started, and grasped the speaker's arm convulsively; then, 
 after a pause, said, " Tell the Chief Justice." Mr. Goring approached, 
 and said something in a low voice to the Judge. 
 
 " Be cautious, Sir; take care to whom you mention these circum- 
 stances, lest they be bruited about before we can examine into them," 
 said the Chief Justice; then retiring into a window with Sir Andrew 
 and Meek, he continued, " This gentleman has just informed me that 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 623 
 
 the impress of a boot with a high heel has been discovered near the 
 spot where the murder was committed ; which boot exactly tallies with 
 that worn by Mr. Cashel." 
 
 " The pistol is his ; I'll tak' my oath on that," muttered Sir Andrew. 
 
 " Here's Phillis coming back," said Meek. " What's the matter, 
 PhilHs ?" 
 
 " Mr. LintoQ sent me back, Sir, to say, that the ivy which covered 
 the wall on the east end of the house has been torn down, and seems 
 to infer that some one must have climbed up it, to reach my master's 
 dressing-room." 
 
 *' This is a very important circumstance," said the Chief Justice. 
 "Let us examine the room at once;" and so saying, he led the way 
 towards it. 
 
 Not a word was spoken as the party passed along the corridor and 
 ascended the stairs ; each feared, even by a syllable, to betray the 
 terrible suspicions that were haunting his mind. It was a solemn 
 moment ; and so their looks and gestures bespoke it. The house itself 
 had suddenly become silent ; scarce a sound was heard within that vast 
 building, which so late had rung with revelry and joy. A distant door 
 would clap, or a faintly-heard shriek from some one still suffering from 
 the recent shock ; but all else was hushed and still. 
 
 " That is the room," said Meek, pointing to a door, beneath which, 
 although it was now daybreak, a stream of light issued ; and, slight 
 as the circumstance was, the looks exchanged among the party seemed 
 to give it a significance. 
 
 The Chief Justice advanced and tapped at the door. Immediately 
 a voice was heard from within, that all recognised as Cashel's, asking, 
 
 " Who's there ?" 
 
 " We want you, Mr. Cashel," said the Judge, in an accent which 
 all the instincts of his habit had not rendered free from a slight tremor. 
 
 The door was immediately thrown wide, and Roland stood before 
 them. He had not changed his dress since his arrival, and his torn 
 sleeve and blood-stained trousers at once caught every eye that was fixed 
 upon him. The disorder, too, was not confined to his own haggard 
 look ; the room itself was littered with papers and letters, with clothes 
 strewn carelessly in every direction; and conspicuously amid all, an open 
 pistol-case was seen, from which one of the weapons was missing. A 
 mass of charred paper lay within the fender, and a great heap of paper 
 lay, as it were ready for burning, beside the hearth. There was full 
 time for those who stood there to notice all these particulars, since 
 neither spoke, but each gazed on the other in terrible uncertainty. 
 Cashel was the first to break the silence. 
 
526 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Well, Sirs," said he, in a voice that only an effort made calm, " are 
 my friends so very impatient at my absence, that they come to seek me 
 in my dressing-room ?" 
 
 ^' The dreadful event that has just occurred, Sir," said the Judge, 
 " makes apology for our intrusion unnecessary. We are here from 
 duty, Mr. Cashel, not inclination, still less caprice." 
 
 The solemnity of manner in which he spoke, and the grave faces 
 around him on every side, seemed to apprise Roland that bad tidings 
 awaited him, and he looked eagerly to each for an explanation. At 
 length, as none spoke, he said, 
 
 *' Will no one vouchsafe to put an end to this mystification? What, 
 I pray, is this event that has happened ?" 
 
 "Mr. Kennyfeck has been murdered," said the Judge. 
 Roland staggered backwards, and grasped a chair for support. 
 "When? How? Where?" said he, in a low voice, every accent of 
 which trembled. 
 
 " All as yet is hidden in mystery. Sir. W^e know nothing beyond 
 the fact that his dead body was discovered in the gap of Ennismore, and 
 that a pistol-shot had penetrated his brain." Sir Andrew grasped the 
 weapon more tightly as these words were uttered. 
 
 " You left this in his company, Mr. Cashel?" asked Goring. 
 " Yes. We set out at daybreak for Drumcoolaghan, where an affair 
 of business required our presence. We spent the whole of the day 
 together, and as evening drew nigh, and our business had not been com- 
 pleted, I resolved to hasten back here, leaving him to follow whenever 
 he could." 
 
 " You had been on the best of terms together, I believe?" said 
 Goring. 
 
 " Stay, — I cannot permit this," interposed the Chief Justice, authorita- 
 tively. " There must be nothing done here which is not strictly honour- 
 able as well as legal. It is right^that Mr. Cashel should understand, 
 that when an event of this nature has occurred, no one, however 
 high his station, or unblemished his fame, can claim exemption from 
 that scrutiny which the course of justice demands ; and the persons 
 latest in the company of the deceased are more peculiarly those exposed 
 to such inquiry. I would, therefore, caution him against answering any 
 questions here, which may be prejudicial hereafter." 
 
 " Do I understand you aright, my Lord ?" said Cashel, whose whole 
 frame trembled with agitation as he spoke. " Do your words imply 
 that I stand here in the light of a suspected party ?" 
 
 " I mean to say. Sir," replied the Judge, " that so long as doubt and 
 obscurity veil the history of a crime, the accusation hangs over the 
 
ROLAlfD CASHEL. 527 
 
 community at large among whom it was enacted ; and that those who 
 were last seen in the presence of the victim, have the greatest obligation 
 to disconnect themselves with the sad event." 
 
 " But you stopped me while about to do so," cried Roland, angrily. . 
 
 "I cautioned you, rather, against any disclosures, which, whatever 
 your innocence, might augment suspicion against you," said the Judge, 
 mildly. 
 
 " These distinctions are too subtle for me, my Lord. The insult of 
 such an accusation ought to be enough, without the aggravation of 
 chicanery." Then turning to Meek, Roland went on — " You, at least, 
 are above this meanness, and will listen to me patiently. Look here." 
 He took a sheet of paper as he spoke, and proceeded with a pen to mark 
 out the direction of the two roads, from Drumcoolaghan to Tubbermore. 
 " Here stands the village ; the road by which we travelled in the 
 morning takes this line, skirting the base of the mountain towards the 
 north : the path by which I returned follows a shorter course, and after 
 crossing a little rivulet here, comes out at Ennismore, somewhere about 
 this point." 
 
 Just as Roland's description reached thus far, a large drop of blood 
 oozed from his wounded hand, and fell heavily upon the paper. There 
 seemed something so terribly significant in its falling exactly on the 
 very spot where the murdered body was found, that each looked at the 
 other in anxious dread ; and then, as if with a common impulse, every 
 eye was bent on Cashel, who, heart-sick with indignant anger, stood 
 unable to utter a word. 
 
 " I pray you. Sir, do not misconstrue my advice," said the Judge, 
 mildly, " nor resent a counsel intended for your good. Every expla- 
 nation you may offer, hereafter, will be serviceable to your case ; every 
 detail you enter into, now, necessarily vague, and unsupported as it 
 must be by other testimony, will only be injurious to you." 
 
 Cashel seated himself in a chair, and crossing his arms, seemed to 
 be lost in thought ; then, suddenly starting to his feet, he cried, 
 
 "Is all this a deep-laid scheme against my honour and my life ; or 
 do you indeed desire to trace this crime to its author ? If so, let us 
 mount our horses, and scour the country ; let us search every cabin ; 
 let us try if some discovery of a weapon — " 
 
 " Ech, Sirs, we hae the weapon !" said Sir Andrew, with a sardonic 
 grin ; " an' it's muckle like to it's brither yonder," pointing to the open 
 pistol-case. 
 
 Roland turned suddenly, and now for the first time perceived that one 
 of his pistols was missing from the case. Up to this moment his anger 
 at the suspicions directed towards him were mingled with a degree of 
 
528 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 contemptuous disregard of them ; but now, suddenly, a terrible fear shot 
 through his heart, that he was in the meshes of some deep-laid scheme 
 for his ruin ; and his mind ran over in eager haste every circumstance 
 that seemed to point towards guilt. His presence with Kennyfeck on 
 the mountain — his departure fromDrumcoolaghan alone — his unexplained 
 reappearance in his own chamber, disordered and littered as it stood 
 — his torn dress — his bleeding fingers — and lastly, the missing pistol — 
 arose in terrible array before him ; and, with a heart-sick sigh, he laid 
 his forehead on the table, and never uttered a word. 
 
 It was at this juncture that a groom, splashed and heated from a hard 
 ride, placed a small bit of twisted paper in Mr. Goring's hand. It was 
 written with pencil, and ran thus : — 
 
 "DearG. "GapofEnnismore. 
 
 " It looks badly ; but I fear you have no other course than to arrest 
 him. In fact, it is too late for anything else. Consult Malone and Meek. 
 
 " Yours, in great haste, 
 
 " T. Linton." 
 
 Goring handed the note to the Chief-Justice, who, having read it, 
 passed it on to Meek. A nod from the latter, as he refolded the paper, 
 seemed to accord concurrence with the counsel. 
 
 *' Would it not be better to defer this till after the inquest ?" he 
 whispered. 
 
 " Are ye certain o' findin' him when ye want him ?" drily remarked 
 Sir Andrew. 
 
 The Chief-Justice conferred for a few seconds with Meek apart, and 
 then approaching Cashel, addressed him in a tone inaudible to all but 
 himself: — 
 
 " It would be excessively painful to us, Mr. Roland Cashel, to do any- 
 thing which should subject you to vulgar remark or impertinent com- 
 mentary ; and as, until some further light be thrown upon this sad 
 catastrophe, your detention is absolutely necessary, may I ask that you 
 will submit to this rigour, without compelling us to any measures to 
 enforce it." 
 
 " Am I a prisoner, my Lord ?" asked Roland^ growing livldly pale 
 as he spoke. 
 
 " Not precisely, Sir. No warrant has been issued against you ; but 
 as it is manifestly for your advantage to disprove any suspicions that 
 may attach to you in this unhappy affair, I hope you will see the pro- 
 priety of remaining where you are until they be entirely removed." 
 
 Roland bowed coldly, and said, 
 
 " May I ask to be left alone ?" 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 529 
 
 "Of course. Sir; we have neithei' the right nor the inclination to 
 obtrude ourselves upon you. I ought to mention, perhaps, that if you 
 desire to confer with any friend — " 
 
 " Friend !" echoed Cashel, in bitter derision ; *' such friends as I have 
 seen around my table make the selection difficult." 
 
 " I used the phrase somewhat technically, Sir, as referring to a legal 
 adviser," said the Judge, hastily. 
 
 " I thank you, my Lord," replied Roland, haughtily. '* I am a plain 
 man, and am well aware that in your trade truth is no match for false- 
 hood." He walked to the window as he spoke, and by his gesture 
 seemed to decline further colloquy. 
 
 The Chief Justice moved slowly away, followed by the others ; Meek 
 withdrawing last of all, and seeming to hesitate whether he should not 
 say something as he went. At last he turned, and said, 
 
 " I sincerely trust, Mr. Cashel, that you will not connect me with 
 this most painful suspicion ; your own good sense will show you how 
 common minds may be affected by a number of concurring circum- 
 stances ; and how, in fact, truth may require the aid of ingenuity to 
 reconcile and explain them." 
 
 " I am not certain that I understand your meaning. Sir," said Cashel, 
 sternly; "but when a number of ^ concurring circumstances' seemed to 
 point out those with whom I associated as blacklegs, parasites, and 
 calumniators, I gave them the benefit of a doubt, and believed them to 
 be Gentlemen ; I almost expected they might return the favour when 
 occasion offered." 
 
 For a second or two. Meek seemed as if about to reply ; but he moved 
 noiselessly away at last and closed the door, leaving Roland alone with 
 his own distracted thoughts. 
 
 2 M 
 
530 BOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER LXm. 
 
 Are there not proofs enough ? 
 
 Or can the stubborn mmd reject all truth 
 
 And cling to fallacy ? 
 
 The Will 
 
 What a change did Tubbermore present to its aspect of the day 
 before ! All the emblems of joy and festivity, all the motley of plea- 
 sure, all the gay troops of guests hastening onward in glowing eager- 
 ness and anticipation, were gone ; and, in their stead, a dreary and mys- 
 terious silence brooded over the place, interrupted at intervals by the 
 bustle of some departure. For thus, without one word of sympathy, 
 without even a passing good-bye, Roland's " friends" hurried away, as 
 if flying from the very memories of the spot. 
 
 It was a dreary winter's day; the dark leaden clouds that flitted past, 
 and the long sighing wind, seemed to add their sad influence to the me- 
 lancholy. The house itself already appeared to feel its altered fortunes. 
 Most of the windows were closed and shuttered ; the decorations of rare 
 plants and shrubs, and lamps, were removed ; instead of the movement 
 of liveried servants to and fro, ill-favoured and coarse-clad men, the 
 underlings of the law, crept stealthily about, noticing each circumstance 
 of the locality, and conferring together in mysterious whispers. Mounted 
 messengers, too, came and went with a haste that boded urgency ; and 
 post-horses were each moment arriving, to carry away those whose im- 
 patience to leave was manifested in a hundred ways. Had the air of 
 the place been infected with some pestilential malady, their eagerness 
 could scarce have been greater. All the fretful irritability of selfish- 
 ness, all the peevish discontent of petty natures, exhibited themselves 
 without shame ; and, envious expressions toward those fortunate enough 
 to "get away first," and petulant complaints over their own delay, 
 were bandied on every side. 
 
 A great table was laid for breakfast in the dining-room, as usual. All 
 the luxuries and elegances that graced the board on former occasions 
 were there, but a ffew only took their places. Of these, Frobisher and 
 some military men were the chief. They, indeed, showed comparatively 
 little of that anxiety to be gone, so marked in the others. The monotony of 
 the barrack and the parade was not attractive, and they lingered like 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 5^1 
 
 men who, however little they had of pleasure, here, had even less of in- 
 ducement to betake them, elsewhere. 
 
 Meek had been the first to make his escape, by taking the post-horses 
 intended for another, and already was many miles on his way towards 
 Dublin. The Chief Justice and his family were the next. From the 
 hour of the fatal event, Mrs. Malone had assumed a judicial solemnity of 
 demeanour that produced a great impression upon the beholders, and 
 seemed to convey, by a kind of reflected light, the old Judge's gloomiest 
 forebodings of the result. 
 
 Mrs. Leicester White deferred her departure to oblige Mr. Howie, 
 who was making a series of sketches for the " Pictorial Paul Pry ;" 
 showing not only the various facades of Tubbermore House, but several 
 interesting *' interiors :" such as the " Ball-room when the fatal tidings 
 arrived ;" " Dressing-room of Roland Cashel, Esq., when entered by 
 the Chief Justice and his party ;" the most effective of all being a 
 very shadowy picture of the Gap of Ennismore — the scene of the murder ; 
 the whole connected by a little narrative so ingeniously drawn up as 
 to give public opinion a very powerful bias against Cashel, whose fea- 
 tures, in the woodcut, would in themselves have made a formidable 
 indictment. 
 
 Of the Kennyfecks, few troubled themselves with even a casual in- 
 quiry : except the fact that a fashionable Physician had been sent for 
 to Dublin, little was known about them. But where was Linton all 
 this while? Some averred that he had set out for the capital, to obtain 
 the highest legal assistance for his friend ; others, that he was so over- 
 whelmed by the terrible calamity as to have fallen into a state of fatuous 
 insensibility. None, however, could really give any correct account of 
 him. He had left Tubbermore, but in what direction none could tell . 
 
 As the day wore on, a heavy rain began to fall ; and of those who 
 still remained in the house, Httle knots of two and three assembled at 
 the windows, to watch for the arrival of their wished-for "posters," or 
 speculate upon the weather. Another source of speculation there was 
 besides. Some hours before, a magistrate, accompanied by a group of 
 ill-dressed and vulgar-looking men, had been seen to pass the house, 
 and take the path which led to the Gap of Ennismore. These formed 
 the Inquest, who were to inquire into the circumstances of the crime ; 
 and whose verdict, however unimportant in a strictly legal sense, was 
 looked for with considerable impatience by some of the company. To 
 judge from the anxious looks that vvere directed towards the mountain- 
 road, or the piercing glances wliich at times were given through tele- 
 scopes in that direction, one would have augured that some, at least, 
 
 2 M 2 
 
532 ROLAJO) CASHEL. 
 
 of those there, were not destitute of sympathy for him whose guests 
 they had been, and beneath whose roof they still lingered. A very few 
 words of those that passed between them will best answer how this 
 impression is well founded. 
 
 " Have you sent your groom off, Upton ?" asted Frobisher, as he 
 stood with a coffee-cup in his hand at the window. 
 
 " Yes, he passed the window full half an hour ago." 
 
 " They are confoundedly tedious," said Jennings, half suppressing a 
 yawn. *' I thought those kind of fellows just gave a look at the body, 
 and pronounced their verdict at once." 
 
 " So they do when it's one of their own class, but in the case of a 
 gentleman they take a prodigious interest in examining his watch, and 
 his purse, and his pocket-book ; and, in fact, it is a grand occasion for 
 prying as far as possible into his private concerns." 
 
 " I'll double our bet, Upton, if you like," said Frobisher, languidly. 
 
 The other shook his head, negatively. 
 
 " V^ hy, the delay is clearly in your favour, man. If they were strong 
 in their convictions, they'd have brought him in guilty an hour ago." 
 
 " That is my opinion too," said Jennings. 
 
 '* Well, here goes. Two fifties be it," cried Upton. 
 
 Frobisher took out his memorandum-book and wrote something with 
 a pencil. 
 
 " Isn't that it?" said he, showing the lines to Upton. 
 
 " Just so. * Wilful murder,' " muttered the other, reading. 
 
 " You have a great 'pull' upon me, Upton," said Frobisher, "by Jove: 
 if you were generous you'd give me odds." 
 
 " How so?" 
 
 " Why, you saw his face, since the affair, and I didn't." 
 
 " It would need a better physiognomist than I am to read it. He 
 ooked exactly as he always does ; a thought paler, perhaps, but no other 
 change." 
 
 " Here comes a fellow with news," said Jennings, throwing open the 
 window. " I say, my man, is it over?" 
 
 " No, Sir; the Jury want to see one of Mr. Cashel's boots." 
 
 Jennings closed the sash, and lighting a cigar, sat down in an easy 
 chair. A desultory conversation here arose among some of the younger 
 military men, whether a coroner's verdict were final, and whether a 
 " fellow could be hanged" when it pronounced him guilty ; the astute 
 portion of the debaters inclining to the opinion, that although this was 
 not the case in England, such would be " law" in Ireland. Then the 
 subject of confiscation was entertained, and various doubts and surmises 
 
BOLAND CASHEL. 533 
 
 arose as to what would become of Tubbermore when its proprietor had 
 been executed; with sly jests about the reversionary rights of the Crown, 
 and the magnanimity of extending mercy at the price of a great landed 
 estate. These filled up the time for an hour or so more, interspersed 
 with conjectures as to Cashel's present frame of mind, and considerable 
 wonderment why he hadn't " bolted" at once. 
 
 At last Upton's groom was seen approaching at a tremendous pace; 
 and in a few minutes after he had pulled up at the door, and dismounting 
 with a spring, hastened into the house. 
 
 "Well, Robert, how did it go?" cried Upton, as, followed by the rest, 
 he met him in the hall. 
 
 " You've lost, Sir," said the man, wiping his forehead. 
 
 " Confound the rascals ! But what are the words of the verdict ?" 
 
 « Wilful murder. Sir." 
 
 " Of course," said Frobisher, coolly; 'Hhey could give no other." 
 
 " It's no use betting against you," cried Upton, pettishly. " You are 
 the luckiest dog in Europe." 
 
 " Come, I'll give you a chance," said Frobisher ; " double or quit 
 that they hang him." 
 
 " No, no ; I've lost enough on him. I'll not have it." 
 
 " AVell, I suppose we've nothing to wait for, now," yawned Jennings. 
 " Shall we start ?" 
 
 " Not till we have luncheon, I vote," cried an infantry sub ; and his 
 suggestion met general approval. And while they are seated at a table 
 where exquisite meats and rarest wines stimulated appetite and pro- 
 voked excess, let us turn for a few brief moments to him who, still their 
 entertainer, sat in his lone chamber, friendless and deserted. 
 
 So rapid had been the succession of events which occupied one single 
 night, that Roland could not believe it possible months had not passed 
 over. Even then, he found it difficult to disentangle the real circum- 
 stances from those fancied results his imagination had already depicted ; 
 many of the true incidents appearing far more like fiction than the 
 dreamy fancies his mind invented. His meeting with Enriquez, for in- 
 stance, was infinitely less probable than that he should have fought a 
 duel with Linton ; and so, in many other cases, his faculties wavered 
 between belief and doubt, till his very senses reeled with the confusion. 
 Kennyfeck's death alone stood out from this chaotic mass, clear, dis- 
 tinct, and palpable ; and, as he sat brooding over this terrible fact, he 
 was totally unconscious of its bearing upon his own fortunes. Selfish- 
 ness formed no part of his nature ; his fault lay in the very absence of 
 self-esteem, and the total deficiency of that individuality which prompts 
 
534 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 men to act up to a self-created standard. He could sorrow for him who 
 was no more, and from whom he had received stronger proofs of de- 
 votion than from all his so-called friends ; he could grieve over the 
 widowed mother and the fatherless girls, for whose destitution he felt, 
 he knew not how or wherefore, a certain culpahility ; but of himself 
 and his own critical position, not a thought arose. The impressions 
 that no effort of his own could convey, fell with a terrific shock upon him 
 when suggested by another. 
 
 He was seated at his table, trying, for the twentieth time, to collect 
 his wandering thoughts, and determine what course to follow, when a 
 tap was heard at his door, and it opened at the same instant. 
 
 " I am come, Sir," said Mr. Goring, with a voice full of feeling, " to 
 bring you sad tidings ; but, for which, events may have, in a measure, 
 prepared you." He paused ; perhaps hoping that Cashel would spare 
 him the pain of continuing ; but Roland never spoke. 
 
 " The inquest has completed its labours," said Goring, with increasing 
 agitation, and the verdict is one of ' wilful murder.* " 
 
 " It was a foul and terrible crime," said Cashel, shuddering ; " the 
 poor fellow was animated with kind intentions and benevolent views 
 towards the people. In all our intercourse, he displayed but one 
 spirit " 
 
 " Have a care, Sir," said Goring, mildly. " It is just possible that, 
 in the frankness of the moment, something may escape you which 
 hereafter you might wish unsaid ; and standing in the position you 
 now do " 
 
 ^' How so ? What position. Sir, do I occupy, that should preclude 
 me from the open expression of my sentiments ?" 
 
 " I have already told you. Sir, that the verdict of the jury was wilful 
 murder, and I hold here in my hand the warrant for your arrest." 
 
 "As the criminal? as the murderer?" cried Cashel, with a voice almost 
 like a shriek of agony. Goring bowed his head, and Roland fell 
 powerless on the floor. 
 
 Summoning others to his aid, Goring succeeded in lifting him up 
 and placing him on a bed. A few drops of blood that issued from his 
 mouth, and his heavy snoring respiration, indicated an apoplectic 
 seizure. Messengers were sent in various directions to fetch a doctor. 
 Tiemay was absent, and it was some hours ere one could be found. 
 Large bleeding and quiet produced the usual effects, and towards 
 evening Cashel's consciousness had returned ; but memory was still 
 clouded and incoherent, and he lay without speaking, and almost 
 without thought. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 535 
 
 After tlie lapse of about a week, he was able to leave his bed and 
 creep about his chamber, whose altered look contributed to recal his 
 mind to the past. All his papers and letters had been removed ; the 
 window was secured mth iron stanchions ; and policemen stood sentry 
 at the door. He remembered everything that had occurred, and sat 
 down, in patient thought, to consider what he should do. 
 
 He learned without surprise, but not without a pang, that of all his 
 friends not one had remained — not one had offered a word of counsel 
 in his affliction, or of comfort in his distress. He asked after Mr. 
 Corrigan ; and heard that he had quitted the country, with his grand- 
 daughter, on the day before the terrible event. Tiernay, it was said, 
 had accompanied them to Dublin, and not since returned. Roland was, 
 then, utterly friendless ! What wonder if he became as utterly reckless, 
 as indifferent to life, as life seemed valueless ? And so was it : he 
 heard with indifference the order for his removal to Limerick, although 
 that implied a gaol ! He listened to the vulgar, but kindly-meant, 
 counsels of his keepers, who advised him to seek legal assistance, with 
 a smile of half-contempt. The obdurate energ}'- of a martyrdom seemed 
 to take possession of him ; and, so far from applying his mind to dis- 
 entangle the web of suspicion around him, he watched, with a strange 
 interest, the convergence of every minute circumstance towards the 
 proof of his guilt ; a secret ^andictiveness whispering to his heart that 
 the day would come when his innocence should be proclaimed ; and 
 then, what tortures of remorse would be theirs, who had brought him 
 to a felon's death ! 
 
 Each day added to the number of these seeming proofs, and the 
 newspapers, in paragraphs of gossiping, abounded with circumstances 
 that had already convinced the public of Cashel's guilt : and how often 
 do such shadowy convictions throw their gloom over the prisoner's 
 dock ! One day, the fact of the boot-track tallying precisely with 
 Roland's, filled the town ; another, it was the pistol-wadding, part of a 
 letter addressed to Cashel, had been discovered. Then, there were 
 vague rumours afloat, that the causes of Cashel's animosity to Kenny- 
 feck were not so secret as the world fancied ; that there were persons of 
 credit to substantiate and explain them ; and, lastly, it was made known, 
 that, among the papers seized on Cashel's table, was a letter, just begun 
 by himself, but to whom addressed uncertain, which ran thus : — 
 
 " As these in all likelihood may be the last lines I shall ever write — " 
 
 Never, in all the gaudy glare of his prosperity, had he occupied more 
 of public attention. The metaphysical penny-a-liners speculated upon 
 the influence his old Buccaneer habits might have exercised upon a mind 
 
536 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 SO imperfectly trained to civilisation ; and amused themselves with guesses 
 as to how far some Indian " cross" in blood might not have contributed 
 to his tragic vengeance. Less scrupulous scribes invented anecdotes of 
 his early life, plainly showing that he was no stranger to deeds of 
 violence : in a word, there seemed a kind of impulse abroad to prove 
 him guilty ; and it would have been taken as a piece of casuistry, or a 
 mawkish sympathy with crime, to assume the opposite. Not, indeed, 
 that any undertook so ungracious a task ; the tide of accusation ran 
 uninterrupted and unbroken. The very friendless desolation in which 
 he stood, was quoted and commented on to this end. One alone of all 
 his former friends made an effort in his favour, and ventured to insinuate 
 that his guilt was far from certain. This was Lord Charles Frobisher, 
 •who, seeing in the one-sidedness of public opinion the impossibility of 
 obtaining a bet, tried thus to '' get up" an *' innocent party," in the 
 hope of a profitable wager. 
 , But what became of Linton all this time ? His game was a dijSicult 
 one ; and to enable him to play it successfully he needed reflection. To 
 this end, he aifected to be so shocked by the terrible event, as to be in- 
 capable of mixing in society. He retired, therefore, to his cottage near 
 Dublin, and for some weeks lived a life of perfect seclusion. Mr.Phillis 
 accompanied him ; for Linton would not trust him out of his sight, till 
 — as he muttered in his own phrase — "all was over." 
 
 This was, indeed, the most eventful period of Linton's life ; and with 
 consummate skill he saw, that any move on his part would be an error. 
 It is true that, through channels with whose workings he was long 
 conversant, he contributed the various paragraphs to the papers by 
 which Cashel's guilt was foreshadowed ; his knowledge of Roland sug- 
 gesting many a circumstance well calculated to substantiate the charge 
 of crime. If he never ventured abroad into the world, he made himself 
 master of all its secret whisperings ; and heard how he was himself 
 commended for delicacy and good feeling, with the satisfaction of a man 
 who glories in a cheat. And how many are there who play false in 
 life, less from the gain than the gratification of vanity ! — a kind of 
 diabolical pride in outwitting and overreaching those whose good faith 
 has made them weak! The polite world does not take the same 
 interest in deeds of terror as do their more humble brethren ; they take 
 their " horrors" as they do their one glass of Tokay at dessert — a some- 
 thing, of which a little more would be nauseating. The less polished 
 classes were, therefore, those who took the greatest pleasure in following 
 up every clue and tracing each circumstance that pointed to Roland's 
 guilt ; and so, at last, his name was rarely mentioned among those with 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 5S^ 
 
 whom so lately he had lived in daily, almost hourly, companion- 
 ship. 
 
 When Linton, then, deemed the time expired, which his feelings of 
 grief and shame had demanded for retirement, he reappeared in the world 
 pretty much as men had always seen him. A very close observer, if he 
 would have suffered any one to be such, might have perhaps detected the 
 expression of care in certain wrinkles round his mouth, and in the extra 
 blackness of his whiskers where grey hairs had dared to show them- 
 selves ; but to the world at large these signs were inappreciable. To 
 them he was the same even-tempered, easy-mannered man, they ever 
 saw him. Nor was this accomplished without an effort ; for, however 
 Linton saw the hour of his vengeance draw nigh, he also perceived that 
 all his personal plans of fortune and aggrandisement had utterly failed. 
 The hopes he had so often cherished were all fled. His title to the 
 cottage, his prospect of a seat in Parliament, the very sums he had won 
 at play, and which to a large amount remained in Cashel's hands, he 
 now perceived were all forfeited to revenge. The price was, indeed, a 
 heavy one ! and already he began to feel it so. Many of his creditors 
 had abstained from pressing him, so long as his intimacy with Cashel 
 gave promise of future solvency. That illusion was now dispelled, and 
 each post brought him dunning epistles, and threatening notices of various 
 kinds. Exposures menaced him from men whose vindictiveness he was 
 well aware of; but far more perilous than all these were his relations 
 with Dan Keane, who continued to address letter after letter to him, 
 craving advice and pecuniary assistance, in a tone where menace was 
 even more palpable than entreaty. To leave these unreplied to, might 
 have been dangerous in the extreme ; to answer them, even more perilous. 
 No other course was, then, open than to return to Tubbermore, and en- 
 deavour, in secret, to confer with this man face to face. There was not 
 any time to lose. Cashel's trial was to take place at the ensuing assizes, 
 which now were close at hand. Keane was to figure there as an im- 
 portant witness. It was absolutely necessary to see him, and caution 
 him as to the nature of the evidence he should give, nor suffer him in 
 the exuberance of his zeal to prove " too much." 
 
 Under pretence, therefore, of a harried trip to London, he left his 
 house one evening and went on board the packet at Kingston, dis- 
 missing his carriage as if about to depart ; then, suddenly affecting to 
 discover that his luggage had been carried away by mistake, he landed, 
 and set out with post horses across country towards the western road. 
 Before midnight he was safe in the mail, on his way to Limerick ; and 
 by daybreak on the following morning he was standing in the wood of 
 
5S8 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Tubbermore, and gazing with a thoughtful head upon the house, whoso 
 shuttered windows and barred doors told of its altered destiny. 
 
 From thence he wandered onward towards the cottage — some strange 
 inexplicable interest over him — to see once more the spot he had so 
 often fancied to be his own, and where, with a fervour not altogether 
 unreal, he had sworn to pass his days in tranquil solitude. Brief as had 
 been the interval since last he stood there, the changes were considerable. 
 The flower-plots were trampled and trodden down, the palings smashed, 
 the ornamental trees and shrubs were injured and broken by the cattle : 
 traces of reckless haste and carelessness were seen in the broken gates 
 and torn gate-posts ; while fragments of packing cases, straw, and paper, 
 littered the walks and the turf around. 
 
 Looking through the windows, broken in many places, he could see 
 the cottage was perfectly dismantled. Everything was gone: not a 
 trace remained of those who for so many years had called it home ! The 
 desolation was complete: nor was it without its depressing influence upon 
 him who stood there to mark it; for, strange enough, there are little 
 spots in the minds of those, where evil actions are oftenest cradled, that 
 form the refuge of many a tender thought ! Linton remembered the 
 cottage as he saw it bright in the morning sun; or, more cheerful still, 
 as the closed curtains and the blazing fire gave a look of homelike com- 
 fort to which tlie veriest wanderer is not insensible ; and now it was 
 cold and dark. He had no self-aceusings as to the cause. It was, to 
 him, one of those sad mutations which the course of fortune is ever effect- 
 ing. He even went further, and fancied how different had been their fate 
 if they had not rejected his own alliance. 
 
 "In this world of ours," muttered he, -'the cards we are dealt by 
 Fortune would nearly always suffice to win, had we but skill. These 
 people had a noble game before them, but, forsooth, they did not 
 fancy their partner ! And see what is come of it — ruin on every 
 side!" 
 
 Gloomy thoughts over his own opportunities neglected — over eventful 
 moments, left to slip by unprofitably — stole over him. Many of his late 
 speculations had been unsuccessful ; he had had heavy losses on the 
 "turf" and the " 'Change." He had failed in promises by which menacing 
 dangers had been long averted. His enemies would soon be upon him, 
 and he was ill provided for the encounter. Vengeance alone, of all his 
 aspirations, seemed to prosper; and he tried to revel in that thought as a 
 compensation for every failure. 
 
 Nor was this unmixed with fear. What if Cashel should enter upon 
 a defence by exposing the events of that last night at Tubbermore ? 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 539 
 
 What if he should produce the forged deed in open court? Who was 
 to say that Enriquez himself might not be forthcoming to prove his 
 falsehood ? Again : How far could he trust Dan Keane? might not the 
 fellow's avarice suggest a t3rranny impossible to endure? Weighty con- 
 siderations were these, and full of their own peril. Linton paused 
 beside the lake to ruminate, and for some time was deep buried in 
 thought. A light rustling sound at last aroused him ; he looked up, 
 and perceived, directly in front of him, the very man of whom he was 
 thinking — Dan Keane himself. 
 
 Both stood still, each fixedly regarding the other without speaking. 
 It seemed a game in which he who made the first move should lose. 
 So, certainly, did Linton feel ; but not so Dan Keane, who, with an 
 easy composure that all the other's "breeding" could not compass, 
 said, 
 
 " Well, Sir, I hope you like your work ?'* 
 
 *' My work ! my work ! How can you call it mine^ my good friend?" 
 replied Linton, with a great effort to appear as much at ease as the 
 other. 
 
 ** Just as ould Mat Corrigan built the little pier we're standin' on 
 this minit, though his own hands didn't lay a stone of it." 
 
 ** There's no similarity between the cases whatever," said Linton, 
 with a well feigned laugh. ''Here there was a plan — an employer 
 — hired labourers engaged to perform a certain task." 
 
 " Well, well," broke in Keane, impatiently ; " sure we're not in * coort,' 
 that you need make a speech. 'Twas your own doing : deny it if you 
 like, but don't drive me to prove it." 
 
 The tone of menace in which these words were uttered was increased 
 by the fact, now for the first time apparent to Linton, that Dan Keane 
 had been drinking freely that morning, and was still under the strong 
 excitement of liquor. 
 
 Linton passed his arm familiarly within the other's, and in a voice of 
 deep meaning said, " Were you only as cautious as you are courageous, 
 Dan, there's not a man in Europe I'd rather take as my partner in a 
 dangerous enterprise. You are a glorious fellow in the hour of peril, 
 but you are a child, amere child, when it's over." 
 
 Keane did not speak, but a leer of inveterate cunning seemed to 
 answer this speech. 
 
 "I say this, Dan," said Linton, coaxingly, "because I see the risk 
 to which your natural frankness will expose you. There are fellows 
 prowling about on every side to scrape up information about this affair j 
 and as, in some unguarded moment, when a glass too much has made 
 
540 ROLAND CA3HEL. 
 
 the tongue run freely, any man may say things, to explain which away 
 afterwards he is often led to go too far — You understand me, 
 Dan ?" 
 
 " I do, Sir," said the other, nodding shortly . 
 
 " It was on that account I came down here to-day, Dan. The trial 
 is fixed for the 15th : now, the time is so short between this and 
 that, you can surely keep a strict watch over yourself till * all is over ?' " 
 
 " And what then. Sir ?" asked Dan, with a cunning glance beneath 
 his brows. 
 
 "After that," rejoined Linton, affecting to mistake the meaning of 
 the question — " after that, the law takes its course^ and you trouble 
 yourself no more on the matter." 
 
 " And is that all, Mr. Linton ? is that all ?" asked the man, as, freeing 
 himself from the other's arm, he drew himself up to his full height, and 
 stood directly in front of him. 
 
 "I must own, Dan, that I don't understand your question." 
 
 " I'll make it plain and azy for you, then," said Keane, with a hard- 
 ened determination in his manner. " 'Twas you yourself put me up to 
 this business. 'Twas you that left the pistol in my possession. 'Twas 
 you that towld me how it was to be done, and where to do it ; and — " 
 here his voice became deep, thick, and guttural with passion — "and, 
 by the 'mortal God ! if I'm to hang for it, so will you too." 
 
 " Hang !" exclaimed Linton. " Who talks of hanging ? or what 
 possible danger do you run—except, indeed, what your own indiscreet 
 tongue may bring upon you ?" 
 
 " Isa't it as good to die on the gallows as on the road-side ?" asked 
 the other, fiercely. ''What betther am I for what I done, tell me 
 that r 
 
 " I have told you before, and I tell you again, that when * all is 
 over,' you shall be amply provided for." 
 
 " And why not before ?" said he, almost insolently. 
 
 " If you must know the reason," said Linton, affecting a smile, " you 
 shall hear it. Your incaution would make you at once the object of 
 suspicion, were you to be seen with money at command as freely as you 
 Avill have it hereafter." 
 
 " Will you give me that in writin' ? will you give it to me undher 
 your hand ?" asked Keane, boldly. 
 
 " Of course I will," said Linton, who was too subtle a tactician to 
 hesitate about a pledge which could not be exacted on the instant. 
 
 " That's what I call talkin' fair," said Keane; '*an', by my sowl, it's 
 the best of your play to trate me well." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 541 
 
 " There is only one thing in the world could induce me to do other- 
 wise." 
 
 " An' what's that, Sir?" 
 
 *' Your daring to use a threat to me !" said Linton, sternly, " There 
 never was the man that tried that game — and there have been some just 
 as clever fellows as Dan Keane who did try it — who didn't find that 
 they met their match." 
 
 " I only ax what's right and fair," said the other, abashed by the daring 
 effrontery of Linton's air. 
 
 " And you shall have it, and more. You shall either have enough to 
 settle in America, or, if you prefer it, to live abroad." 
 
 " And why not stay at home here?" said Dan, doggedly. 
 " To blurt out your secret in some drunken moment, and be hanged 
 at last!" said Linton, with a cutting irony. 
 
 "An' maybe tell how one Mister Linton put the wickedness first in 
 my head," added Dan, as if finishing the sentence. 
 
 Linton bit his lip, and turned angrily away to conceal the mortifica- 
 tion the speech had caused him. " My good friend," said he, in a deli- 
 berate voice, " you think that whenever you upset the boat you will 
 drown me ; and I have half a mind to dare you to it, just to show you 
 the shortness of your calculation. Trust me," — there was a terrible dis- 
 tinctness in his utterance of these words — " trust me, that in all my 
 dealings with the world I have left very little at the discretion of what 
 are called men of honour. I leave nothing, absolutely nothing, in the 
 power of such as you." 
 
 At last did Linton strike the right cord of the fellow's nature; and in 
 his subdued and crestfallen countenance might be read the signs of his 
 prostration. 
 
 " Hear me now attentively, Keane, and let my words rest well in 
 your memory. The trial comes on on the 15th: your evidence will 
 be the most important of all ; but give it with the reluctance of a man 
 who shrinks from bringing his landlord to the scaffold. Y'ou under- 
 stand me ? Let everything you say show the desire to screen Mr. 
 Cashel. Another point : affect not to know anything save what you 
 actually saw. You never can repeat too often the words, * I didn't see 
 it.' This scrupulous reliance on eyesight imposes well upon a Jury. 
 These are the only cautions I have to give you. Your own natural 
 intelligence will supply the rest. When all is finished, you will come 
 up to Dublin, and call at a certain address which will be given you 
 hereafter. And now we part. It is your own fault if you lose a friend 
 who never deserted the man that stood by him." 
 
542 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " An' are you going back to Dublin now, Sir?" asked Keane, over 
 whose mind Linton's influence had become dominant, and who actually 
 dreaded to be left alone, and without his guidance. 
 
 Linton nodded an assent. 
 
 " But you'll be down here at the trial, Sir ?" asked Dan, eagerly. 
 
 " I suspect not," said Linton. " If not summoned as a witness, I'll 
 assuredly not come." 
 
 " Oh, murther !" exclaimed Dan. " I thought I'd have you in the 
 ' Coort,' just to look up at you from time to time, to give me courage 
 and make me feel bowld ; for it does give me courage when I see 
 you so calm and so azy, without as much as a tremble in your 
 voice.'' 
 
 " It is not likely that I shall be there," rejoined Linton ; " but mind, 
 " if I be, that you do not direct your eyes towards me. Remember, 
 that every look you give, every gesture you make^ will be watched and 
 noted." 
 
 " I wondher how I'll get through it !" exclaimed the other, sorrow- 
 Mly. 
 
 " You'll get through it admirably, man, if you'll only think that you 
 are not the person in peril. It is your conscience alone can bring you 
 into any danger." 
 
 " Well, I hope so ! with the help of — " The fellow stopped short, 
 and a red flush of shame spread itself over features which in a whole life 
 long had never felt a blush. 
 
 " I'd like to be able to give you something better than this, Dan," 
 said Linton, as he placed a handful of loose silver in the other's palm j 
 " but it is safer, for the present, that you should not be seen with much 
 money." 
 
 *' I owe more than this at Mark Shea's * public,' " said Dan, looking 
 discontentedly at the money. 
 
 " And why should you owe it?" said Linton bitterly. " What is there 
 in your circumstances to warrant debts of this kind ?" 
 
 " Didn't I earn it — tell me that ?" asked the ruffian, with a savage 
 earnestness. 
 
 " I see that you are hopeless," said Linton, turning away in disgust. 
 " Take your own course, and see where it will lead you." 
 
 "No — you mean where it will lead us," said the fellow inso- 
 lently. 
 
 " What! do you dare to threaten me! Now, once for all, let this 
 have an end. I have hitherto treated you with candour and with 
 kindness. If you fancy that my hate can be more profitable than my 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 543 
 
 friendship, say so, and before one hour passes over your head, I'll have 
 you committed to prison as an accessory to the murder." 
 
 " I ax your pardon humbly — I didn't mean to anger your honour," 
 said the other in a servile tone. " I'll do everything you bid me — and 
 sure you know best what ought to be done." 
 
 " Then let us part good friends," said Linton, holding out his hand 
 towards him. " I see a boat coming over the lake which will drop me 
 at Killaloe ; we must not be seen together — so good bye, Dan, good 
 bye." 
 
 " Good bye, and a safe journey to yer honour," said Dan, as, touch- 
 ing his hat respectfully, he retired into the wood. 
 
 The boat which Linton descried was still above a mile from the shore, 
 and he sat down upon a stone to await its coming. Beautiful as that placid 
 lake was, with its background of bold mountains, its scattered islands, 
 and its jutting promontories, he had no eye for these, but followed with 
 a peering glance the direction in which Dan Keane had departed. 
 
 " There are occasions," muttered he to himself, '* when the boldest 
 courses are the safest. Is this one of these ? Dare I trust that fellow, 
 or would this be better ?" And, as if mechanically, he drew forth a 
 double-barrelled pistol from his breast, and looked fixedly at it. 
 
 He arose from his seat and sat down again — his mind seemed beset 
 with hesitation and doubt ; but the conflict did not last long, for he 
 replaced the weapon, and walking down to the lake, dipped his fingers in 
 the water and bathed his temples, saying to himself — 
 
 " Better as it is: over-caution is as great an error as foolhardiness." 
 
 With a dexterity acquired by long practice, he now disguised his 
 features so perfectly that none could have recognised him ; and by the 
 addition of a wig and whiskers of bushy red hair, totally changed the 
 character of his appearance. This he did, that at any future period he 
 might not be recognised by the boatmen, who, in answer to his signal, 
 now pulled vigorously towards the shore. 
 
 • He soon bargained with them to leave him at Killaloe, and as they 
 rowed along engaged them to talk about the country, in which he affected 
 to be a tourist. Of course the late murder was the theme uppermost 
 in every mind, and Linton marked with satisfaction how decisively the 
 current of popular belief ran in attributing the guilt to Cashel. 
 
 With a perversity peculiar to the peasant, the Agent, whom they had 
 so often inveighed against for cruelty in his lifetime, they now discovered 
 to have been the type of all that was kind-hearted and benevolent ; and 
 had no hesitation in attributing his unhappy fate to an altercation in 
 which he, with too rash a zeal, was the " poor man's advocate." 
 
544 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 The last words he was heard to utter on leaving Tubbermore were 
 quoted, as implying a condemnation on Cashel's wasteful extravagance, 
 at a time when the poor around were '•' perishing of hunger." Even 
 to Linton, whose mind was but too conversant with the sad truths of 
 the story, these narratives assumed the strongest form of consistency 
 and likelihood ; and he saw how effectually circumstantial evidence can 
 convict a man in public estimation, long before a jury are sworn to try 
 him. 
 
 Crimes of this nature, now, had not been unfrequent in that district; 
 and the country-people felt a species of savage vengeance in urging 
 their accusations against a " Gentleman," who had not what they 
 reckoned as the extenuating circumstances to diminish or explain away 
 his guilt. 
 
 " He wasn't turned out of his little place to die on the road-side," 
 muttered one. " He wasn't threatened, like poor Dan Keane, to be 
 * starminated,' " cried another. 
 
 ^' And who is Dan Keane ?" asked Linton. 
 
 " The gatekeeper up at the big house yonder, Sir ; one that's lived 
 man and boy nigh fifty years there; and Mr. Cashel swore he'd root him 
 out, for all that !" 
 
 '' Aye !" chimed in another, in a moralising whine, " an' see where he 
 is himself, now !" 
 
 *' I wondher now if they'd hang him. Sir?" asked one. 
 
 " Why not, " asked Linton, " if he should be found guilty?" 
 
 " They say, Sir, the gentlemen can always pay for another man to be 
 hanged instead of them. Musha, maybe 'tisu't true^" added he diffi- 
 dently, as he saw the smile on Linton's face. 
 
 " I think you'll find that the right man will suffer in this case," said 
 Linton ; and a gleam of malignant passion shot from his dark eyes as he 
 spoke. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 545 
 
 CHAPTER LXIV. 
 
 As I listened I thought myself guilty.— Wabken Hastings. 
 
 For several days before that appointed for the trial of Roland Cashel. 
 the assize town was crowded with visitors from every part of the island. 
 Not a house, not a room was unoccupied, so intense was the interest to 
 witness a cause into which so many elements of exciting story entered. 
 His great wealth, his boundless extravagance, the singular character of 
 his early life, gave rise to a hundred curious anecdotes, which the press 
 circulated with a most unscrupulous freedom. 
 
 Nor did public curiosity stop at the walls of the prison; for every 
 detail of his life, since the day of his committal, was carefully recorded 
 by the papers. The unbroken solitude in which he lived ; the apparent 
 calm collecteduess in which he awaited his trial ; his resolute refusal to 
 employ legal assistance ; his seeming indifference to the alleged clues 
 to the discovery of the murder, were commented on and repeated till they 
 formed the table-talk of the land. 
 
 The only person with whom he desired to communicate was Doctor Tier- 
 nay ; but the Doctor had left Ireland in company with old Mr. Corrigan and 
 Miss Leicester, and none knew whither they had directed their steps. 
 
 Of all his former friends and acquaintances, Cashel did not appear 
 to remember one; nor, certainly, did they obtrude themselves in any way 
 upon his recollection. The Public, it is true, occupied themselves 
 abundantly with his interests. Letters, some with signatures, the 
 greater number without, were addressed to him, containing advices 
 and counsels the strangest and most opposite, and requests, which to 
 one in his situation were the most inappropriate. Exhortations to con- 
 fess his crime came from some, evidently more anxious for the solution of 
 a mystery than the repentance of a criminal. Some, suggested legal 
 quibbles to be used at the trial ; others, hinted at certain most skilful 
 advocates, whose services had been crowned with success in the case of 
 most atrocious wretches. A few, asked for autographs ; and one, in a 
 neat crowquill hand, with paper smelling strongly of musk, requested a 
 lock of his hair ! 
 
 If by any accident Cashel opened one of these epistles, he was certain to 
 feel amused. It was to him at least a new view of life, and of that civili- 
 sation against which he now felt himself a rebel. Generally, however, 
 he knew nothing of them : a careless indifference, a reckless disregard of 
 the future, had taken complete possession of him ; and the only impa- 
 
 2 N 
 
546 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 tlence he ever manifested was at the slow march of the time which 
 should elapse before the day of trial. 
 
 The day at length arrived; and even within the dreary walls of the 
 prison were heard the murmured accents of excitement as the great hour 
 drew nigh. 
 
 Mr. Goring at an early hour had visited the prisoner, to entreat him, 
 for the last time, to abandon his mad refusal of legal aid; explaining 
 forcibly that there were constantly cases occurring where innocence could 
 only be asserted by disentangling the ingenious tissue with which legal 
 astuteness can invest a circumstance. Cashel rejected this counsel 
 calmly but peremptorily; and when pressed home by other arguments, 
 in a moment of passing impatience, confessed, that he was " weary of 
 life, and would make no effort to prolong it." 
 
 " Even so. Sir," said Goring. " There is here another question at issue. 
 Are you satisfied to fill the dishonoured grave of a criminal? Does not 
 the name by which men will speak of you, hereafter, possess any terror 
 for you, now?" 
 
 A slight tremor shook Cashel's voice as he replied, " Were I one who 
 left kindred or attached friends behind him, these considerations would 
 have their weight, nor would I willingly leave them the heritage of such 
 disgrace ; but I am alone in the world, without one to blush for my dis- 
 honour, or shed a tear over my sorrow. The calumny of my fellow- 
 men will only fall on ears sealed by death; nor will their jeers break the 
 slumber I am so soon to sleep." 
 
 Goring laboured hard to dissuade him from his resolve, but to no 
 purpose. The only consolation of which Roland seemed capable arose 
 from the dogged indifference he felt as to the result, and the consciousness 
 of an innocence he was too proud to assert. 
 
 From an early hour of the morning, the Court was crowded. Many 
 persons distinguished in the world of fashion were to be seen amid the 
 gowned and wigged throng that filled the body of the building ; and 
 in the galleries were a vast number of ladies, whose elegance of dress 
 told how much they regarded the scene as one of display, as well as of 
 exciting interest. Some, had been frequent guests at his house ; others, 
 had often received him at their own ; and there they sat, in eager expec- 
 tancy to see how he would behave, to criticise his bearing, to scan his 
 looks through their " lorgnettes,' and note the accents in which he would 
 speak. A few, indeed, of his more intimate friends denied themselves 
 the treat such an exhibition promised ; and it was plain to see how highly 
 they estimated their own forbearance. Still, Frobisher and some of his 
 set stood beneath the gallery, and watched the proceedings with in- 
 terest. 
 
Frien d s . 
 
 ( " ev^er faitlifiilij J'ts" ) 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 547 
 
 Some routine business of an uninteresting nature over, the case of 
 the King versus Roland Cashel was called, and the governor of the gaol 
 •was ordered to produce the prisoner. A murmur of intense interest 
 quickly ran through the crowded assembly, and as suddenly was subdued 
 to a dead silence, as the crowd, separating, permitted the passage of 
 two armed policemen, after whom Cashel walked, followed by two others. 
 Scarcely had he emerged from the dense throng and taken his place in 
 the dock, when a buzz of astonishment went round ; for the prisoner, 
 instead of being dressed decorously in black, as is customars^ or at least 
 in some costume bespeaking care and respect, was attired in tlie very 
 suit he wore on the eventful night of the murder, the torn sleeves and 
 blood-stained patches attracting every eye around him. He was paler 
 and thinner than his wont; and if his countenance was more deeply 
 thoughtful, there was nothing in it that evinced anxiety, or even expec- 
 tancy. As he entered the dock, they who stood nearest to him re- 
 marked that a slight flush stole over his face, and something that 
 seemed painful to his feelings appeared to work within him. A brief 
 effort overcame this, and he raised his eyes and carried his looks around 
 the Court with the most perfect unconcern. 
 
 The prisoner was now arraigned, and the clerk proceeded to read 
 over the indictment; after which came the solemn question, " How say 
 you. Prisoner, Guilty or Not Guilty ?" Either not understanding the 
 " quaere" as directly addressed to himself, or conceiving it to be some 
 formality not requiring an answer, Cashel stood in a calm and respectftd 
 silence for some minutes, when the Judge in a mild voice explained the 
 meaning of the inteiTogatlon. 
 
 " Not Guilty, my Lord," said Cashel, promptly ; and though the 
 words were few, and those almost of course on such an occasion, the 
 feeling in the Court was manifestly in concurrence with the speaker. 
 The routine detail of calling over the jury panel involving the privilege of 
 " challenge," it became necessary to explain this to Cashel ; whose igno- 
 rance of all legal forms being now so manifest, the Judge asked who 
 was counsel for the prisoner. 
 
 " He has not named any, my Lord." 
 
 "With patient kindness the Judge turned to the dock, and counselled 
 him, even now, late as it was, to select some among the learned 
 members of the bar, whose guidance would materially serve his interests, 
 and save him from the many embarrassments his own unassisted efforts 
 would produce. 
 
 " I thank you, my Lord, for your consideration," replied he, calmly, 
 " but if I be innocent of this crime I stand in need of no skill to defend 
 me. If guilty, I do not deserve it." 
 
 2 N 2 
 
548 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Were guilt and innocence always easy of detection," said the Judge, 
 *' your remark might have some show of reason ; but such is rarely the 
 case ; and once more I would entreat you to entrust your cause to some 
 one conversant with our forms and acquainted with our duties." 
 
 "I am not guilty, my Lord," replied Roland, boldly, *'nordo I fear 
 that any artifice can make me appear such. I will not have counsel." 
 
 The Attorney- General here in a low voice addressed the Bench, and 
 suggested that although the prisoner might not himself select a de- 
 fender, yet the interests of justice, generally, requiring that the witnesses 
 should be cross-examined, it would be well if the Court would appoint 
 some one to that duty. 
 
 The Judge repeated the suggestion aloud, adding his perfect concur- 
 rence in its nature, and inviting the learned bar to lend a volunteer in 
 the caiise ; when a voice called out, " I will willingly accept the office, 
 my Lord, with your permission." 
 
 " Very well, Mr. Clare Jones," replied the Judge ; and that gentle- 
 man, of whom so long we have lost sight, advanced to the front of the 
 bar, beside the dock. 
 
 Cashel, during this scene, appeared like one totally uninterested in all 
 that was going forward ; nor did he even turn his head towards where 
 his self-appointed advocate was standing. As the names of the jury 
 were called over, Jones closely scrutinised each individual, keenly in- 
 quiring from what part of the county he came — whether he had resided 
 as a tenant on the Cashel estate — and if he had, on any occasion, ex- 
 pressed himself strongly on the guilt or innocence of the accused. To 
 all these details Roland listened with an interest the novelty suggested, 
 but, it was plain to see, without any particle of that feeling which his 
 own position might have called for. The jury were at length em- 
 panelled, and the trial began. 
 
 Few, even among the most accomplished weavers of narrative, can 
 equal the skill with which a clever lawyer details the story of a criminal 
 trial. The orderly sequence in which the facts occur — the neat equi- 
 poise in which matters are weighed — the rigid insistance upon some 
 points, the insinuated probabilities and the likelihood of others — are all 
 arranged and combined with a masterly power that more discursive 
 fancies would fail in. 
 
 Events and incidents that to common intelligence appear to have no 
 bearing on the case, arise, like unexpected witnesses, at intervals, to 
 corroborate this, or to insinuate that. Time, place, distance, locality, 
 the laws of light and sound, the phenomena of science, are all invoked, 
 not with the abstruse pedantry of a book-worm, but with the ready- 
 witted acuteness of one who has studied mankind in the parti-coloured 
 page of real life. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 549 
 
 To any one unaccustomed to these efforts, the effect produced is 
 almost miraculous : conviction steals in from so many sources, that the 
 mind, like a city assaulted on every side, is captured almost at once. 
 All the force of cause and effect is often imparted to matters which are 
 merely consecutive ; and it requires patient consideration to disembarrass 
 a case of much that is merely insinuated, and more, that is actually 
 speculative. 
 
 In the present instance everything was circumstantial ; but so much 
 the more did it impress all who listened, even to him who, leaning on 
 the rails of the dock, now heard with wonderment how terribly con- 
 sistent were all the events which seemed to point him out as guilty. 
 After a brief exordium, in which he professed his deep sorrow at the 
 duty which had devolved on him, and his ardent desire to suffer nothing 
 to escape him with reference to the prisoner save what the interests of 
 truth and justice imperatively might call for, the Attorney-General 
 entered upon a narrative of the last day of Mr. Kennyfeck's life ; de- 
 tailing with minute precision his departure from Tubbermore at an early 
 hour in Mr. Cashel's company, and stating how something bordering 
 upon altercation between them was overheard by the bystanders as they 
 drove away. "The words themselves, few and unimportant as they 
 might seem," added he, " under common circumstances, come before us 
 with a terrible significance when remembered in connexion with the 
 horrible event that followed." He then traced their course to Drum- 
 coolaghan, where differences of opinion, trivial, some might call them, 
 but of importance to call for weighty consideration here, repeatedly 
 occurred respecting the tenantry and the management of the estate. 
 These would all be proved by competent witnesses, he alleged; and he 
 desired the jury to bear in mind that such testimony should be taken as 
 that of men much more disposed to think and speak well of Mr. Cashel, 
 whose very spendthrift tastes had the character of virtues in the peasant's 
 eyes, in contrast with the careful and more scrupulous discretion prac- 
 tised by " the agent." 
 
 " You will be told, Gentlemen of the Jury,*' continued he, " how, 
 after a day spent in continued differences of opinion, they separated at 
 evening ; one, to return to Tubbermore by the road ; the other, by the 
 less travelled path that led over the mountains. And here it is worthy of 
 remark that Mr. Cashel, although ignorant of the way, a stranger, for 
 the first time in his life in the district, positively refuses all offers of 
 accompaniment, and will not even take a guide to show him the road. 
 Mr. Kennyfeck continues for some time to transact business with the 
 tenantry, and leaves Drumcoolaghan, at last, just as night was closing in. 
 Now, about half-way between the manor-house of Tubbermore and the 
 
550 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 village of Drumcoolaghan, the road has been so much injured by the 
 passage of a mountain-torrent, that when the travellers passed in the 
 morning they found themselves obliged to descend from the carriage 
 and proceed for some distance on foot; a precaution that Mr. Kenny- 
 feck was compelled also to take on his return, ordering the servant to 
 wait for him on the crest of the hill. That s.pot he was never destined to 
 reach ! The groom waited long and anxiously for his coming ; he could 
 not leave his horses to go back and find out the reasons of his delay — he 
 was alone ; the distance to Tubbermore was too great to permit of his 
 proceeding thither to give the alarm ; he waited, therefore, with that 
 anxiety which the sad condition of our country is but too often calculated 
 to inspire even among the most courageous : when, at last, footsteps were 
 heard approaching — he called out aloud his master's name — but instead 
 of hearing the well-known voice in answer, he was accosted in Irish by 
 ian old man, who told him in the forcible accents of his native tongue 
 * that a murdered man was lying on the roadside.' The groom at once 
 hurried back, and at the foot of the ascent discovered the lifeless but 
 still warm body of his master ; a bullet- wound was found in tlie back 
 of the skull, and the marks of some severe blows across the face. On 
 investigating further, at a little distance oif, a pistol was picked up from 
 a small drain, where it seemed to have been thrown in haste ; the boi'e 
 corresponded exactly with the bullet taken from the body ; but, more 
 important still, this pistol appears to be the fellow of another belonging 
 to Mr. Cashel, and will be identified by a competent witness as having 
 been his property. 
 
 "An interval now occurs, in which a cloud of mystery intervenes; 
 and we are unable to follow the steps of the prisoner, of whom nothing 
 is known, till, on the alarm of the murder reaching Tubbermore, -a 
 rumour runs that footsteps have been heard in Mr. Cashel's apartment, 
 the key of which the owner had taken with him. The report gains 
 currency rapidly that it is Mr. Cashel himself; and, although the ser- 
 vants aver that he never could have traversed the hall and the staircase 
 unseen by some of them, a new discovery appears to explain the fact. 
 It is this. The ivy which grew on the wall of the house, and which 
 reached to the window of Mr. Cashel's dressing-room, is found torn 
 down, and indicating the passage of some one by its branches. On the 
 discovery of this most important circumstance, the Chief Justice, accom- 
 panied by several other gentlemen, proceeded in a body to the chamber, 
 and demanded admittance. From them you will hear in detail wliat 
 took place — the disorder in which they fomid the apartment — cheaps of 
 papers littered the floor — letters lay in charred masses upon the heartli 
 — the glass of the window was broken, and thfC marks of feet upon the 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 551 
 
 window-sill and the floor showed that some one had entered by that 
 means. Lastly — and to this fact you will give your utmost attention — 
 the prisoner himself is found with his clothes torn in several places; 
 marks of blood are seen upon them, and his wrist shows a recent 
 wound, from which the blood flows profusely. Although cautioned by 
 the AA^se foresight of the learned Judge against any rash attempt at 
 explanation, or any inadvertent admission which might act to his pre- 
 judice hereafter, he bursts forth into a violent invective upon the mur- 
 derer, and suggests that they should mount their horses at once, and 
 scour the country in search of him. This counsel being, for obvious 
 reasons, rejected, and his plan of escape frustrated, he falls into a 
 moody despondency, and will not speak. Shrouding himself in an 
 affected misanthropy, he pretends to believe that he is the victim of 
 some deep-planned treachery — that all these circumstances, whose detail 
 I have given you, have been the deliberate schemes of his enemies. It 
 is difficult to accept of this explanation. Gentlemen of the Jury ; and, 
 although I would be far from diminishing in the slightest the grounds 
 of any valid defence a man so situated may take up, I would caution 
 you against any rash credulity of vague and unsupported assertions ; or, 
 at least, to weigh them well against the statements of tnithtelling wit- 
 nesses. The prisoner is bound to lay before you a narrative of that 
 day, from the hour of his leaving home, to that of his return ; — to ex- 
 plain why he separated from his companion, and came back alone by a 
 path he had never travelled before, and at night ; — with what object he 
 entered his own house by the window — a feat of considerable difficulty 
 and of some danger. His disordered and blood-stained dress — his 
 wounded hand — the missing pistol — the agitation of his manner when 
 discovered amid the charred and torn remains of letters — all these have 
 to be accounted for. And remember at what a moment they occurred! 
 When his house was the scene of festivity and rejoicing — when above a 
 thousand guests were abandoning themselves to the unbridled enjoy- 
 ment of pleasure — tliis is the time the host takes to arrange papers, 
 to destroy letters — to make, in fact, those hurried aiTangements that 
 men are driven to, on the eve of either flight or some desperate under- 
 taking. Bear all this in mind, Gentlemen ; and remember that, to ex- 
 plain these circumstances, the narrative of tlie prisoner must be full, 
 coherent and consistent in all its parts. The courts of justice admit of 
 neither reservations nor mysteries. We are here to investigate the 
 truth, whose cause admits of no compromise." 
 
 The witnesses for the prosecution were now called over and sworn. 
 The first examined were some of the servants who had overheard the 
 conversation between Cashel and Kennyfeck, on the morning of leaving 
 
552 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Tubbermore. They differed slightly as to the exact expressions used, 
 but agreed perfectly as to their general import : a fact which even the 
 cross-examination of Mr. Jones only served to strengthen. Some 
 peasants of Drumcoolaghan were next examined, to show that during 
 the day slight differences were constantly occurring between the parties, 
 and that Cashel had more than once made use of the expression, " Have 
 your own way now^ but ere long I'll take mine ;" or words very similar. 
 The old man who discovered the body, and the postilion, were then 
 questioned as to all the details of the place, the hour, and the fact ; and 
 then Tom Keane was called for. It was by him the pistol was picked 
 up from the drain. The air of reluctance with which the witness 
 ascended the table, and the look of affectionate interest he bestowed 
 upon the dock, were remarked by the whole assemblage. If the coun- 
 tenance of the man evinced little of frankness or candour, the stealthy 
 glance he threw around him as he took his seat showed that he was not 
 deficient in cunning. 
 
 As his examination proceeded, the dogged reluctance of his answers, 
 the rugged bluntness by which he avoided any clear explanation of his 
 meaning, were severely commented on by the Attorney- General, and 
 even called forth the dignified censure of the Bench ; so that the impres- 
 sion produced by his evidence was, that he was endeavouring throughout 
 to screen his landlord from the imputation of a well -merited guilt. 
 
 The cross-examination now opened, but without in any way serving 
 to shake the material character of the testimony, at the same time that 
 it placed in a still stronger light the attachment of the witness to the 
 prisoner. Cashel, hitherto inattentive, and indifferent to all that was 
 going forward^ became deeply interested as this examination proceeded; 
 his features, apathetic and heavy before, grew animated and eager, and 
 he leaned forward to hear the witness with every sign of anxiety. 
 
 The spectators who thronged the court attributed the prisoner's eager- 
 ness to the important nature of the testimony, and the close reference it 
 bore to the manner of the crime ; they little knew the simple truth, 
 that it was the semblance of affection for him — the pretended interest 
 in his fate, which touched his lonely heart, and kindled there a love 
 of life. 
 
 " That poor peasant, then," said Roland, to himself, " he, at least, 
 deems me guiltless. I did not think that there lived one who cared as 
 much for me !" 
 
 With the apparent intention of showing to the Court and Jury that 
 Keane was not biassed towards his former master, Mr. Jones addressed 
 several questions to him ; but instead of eliciting the fact, they called 
 forth from the witness a burst of gratitude and love for him that 
 
G u.L I L a II d IirnDc e lie e 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 553 
 
 actually shook the building- by the applause it excited, and called for the 
 interference of the Bench to repress. 
 
 " You may go down, Sir," said Jones, with the fretful impatience of 
 a man worsted in a controversy; and the witness descended from the 
 table amid the scarcely suppressed plaudits of the crowd. As he passed 
 the dock, Cashel leaned forward and extended his hand towards him. 
 The fellow drew back, and they who were next him perceived that a 
 sallow sickly colour spread itself over his face, and that his lips became 
 bloodless. 
 
 " Give me your hand, man !" said Cashel. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Cashel ! oh, Sir!" said he, with that whining affectation of 
 modesty the peasant can so easily assume. 
 
 " Give me your hand, I say," said Cashel, firmly. " Its honest grasp 
 will make me think better of the world than I have done for many a 
 day." 
 
 The fellow made the effort, but with such signs of inward terror and 
 trepidation that he seemed like one ready to faint ; and when his cold 
 and nerveless hand quitted Cashel's, it fell powerless to his side. He 
 moved now quickly forward, and was soon lost to sight in the dense 
 throng. 
 
 The next witnesses examined were the group who, headed by the 
 Chief Justice, had entered Cashel's room. If they all spoke guardedly, 
 and with great reserve, as to the manner of the prisoner, and the con- 
 struction they would feel disposed to put upon the mode in which he re- 
 ceived them, they agreed as to every detail and every word spoken with 
 an accuracy that profoundly impressed the jury. 
 
 The magistrate, Mr. Goring, as having taken the most active part in 
 the proceedings, was subjected to a long and searching cross-examination 
 by Jones ; who appeared to imply that some private source of dislike to 
 Cashel had been the animating cause of his zeal in this instance. 
 
 Although not a single fact arose to give a shade of colour to this sus- 
 picion, the lawyer clung to it with the peculiar pertinacity that often 
 establishes by persistence when it fails in proof ; and so pointedly and 
 directly at last, that the learned Judge felt bound to interfere, and ob- 
 serve, that nothing in the testimony of the respected witness could lay 
 any ground for the insinuation thrown out by the counsel. 
 
 Upon this there ensued one of those sharp altercations between Bench 
 and Bar which seem the "complement" of every eventful trial in Ireland ; 
 and which, after a brief contest, usually leave both the combatants ex- 
 cessively in the wrong. 
 
 The present case was no exception to this rule. The Judge was heated 
 
SS^ HOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 and imperious — ^the Counsel flippant in all the insolence of mock respect 
 — and ended by the stereotyped panegyric on the " glorious sanctity 
 that invests the counsel of a defence in a criminal action — the inviolabi- 
 lity of a pledge which no member of the bar could suffer to be sullied in 
 ills person" — and a great many similar fine things, which, if not 
 " briefed" by the attorney, are generally paid for by the client ! The 
 skrimmage ended, as it ever does, by a salute of honour ; in which each, 
 while averring that he was incontestably right, bore testimony to the 
 conscientious scruples and delicate motives of the other; and at last they 
 bethought them of the business for which they were there, and of him 
 whose fate for life or death was on the issue. The examination of Mr. 
 Goring was renewed. 
 
 " You have told us, Sir," said Jones, " that immediately after the 
 terrible tidings had reached Tubbermore of Mr. Kennyfeck's death, that 
 suspicion seemed at once to turn on Mr. Cashel. Will you explain this, 
 or at least let us hear how you can account for a circumstance so 
 strange?" 
 
 " I did not say as much as you have inferred," repHed Goring. 
 ^'I merely observed that Mr. Cashel's name became most singularly 
 mixed up with the event, and rumours of a difference between him and 
 his agent were buzzed about." 
 
 " Might not this mention of Mr. Cashel's name have proceeded from 
 an anxious feeling on the part of his friends to know of his safety ?'* 
 
 " It might." 
 
 "Are you not certain that it was so?" 
 
 " In one instance certainly. I remember that a gentleman at once 
 drew our attention to the necessity of seeing after him." 
 
 " Who was this gentleman ?" 
 
 " Mr. Linton — a near intimate and friend of Mr. Cashel." 
 
 *' And he suggested that it would be proper to take steps for Mr. 
 Cashel's safety?" 
 
 '^Hedidso." 
 
 *' Was anything done in consequence of that advice ?" 
 
 " Nothing, I believe. The state of confusion that prevailed — the 
 terror that pervaded every side — the dreadful scenes enacting around 
 us, prevented our following up the matter with all the foresight which 
 might be desired." 
 
 " And, in fact, you sought relief from the unsettled distraction of 
 your thoughts, by fixing the crime upon some one — even though he 
 should prove, of all assembled there, the least likely ?" 
 
 " We did not attach anything to Mr. Cashel's disfavour until we 
 
EOLAND CASHEI. 555 
 
 discovered that he was in his dressing-room, and in the manner already 
 stated." 
 
 " But yon certainly jumped to your conclusion by a sudden bound ?" 
 
 "It would be fairer to say that our thoughts converged to the san^e 
 impression at the same time." 
 
 " Where is this Mr. Linton ? Is he among the list of your wit- 
 nesses, Mr. Attorney?" 
 
 " No, we have not called him." 
 
 "1 thought as much !" said Jones sneeringly; "and yet the omission 
 is singdlar, of one whose name is so frequently mixed up in these pro- 
 ceedings. He might prove an inconvenient witness." 
 
 A slight murmur here ran through the court ; and a gentleman ad- 
 vancing to the bar, whispered some words to the Attorney-General, 
 who, rising, said, 
 
 " My Lord, I am just this instant informed that Mr. Linton is dan- 
 gerously ill of fever at his house near Dublin. My informant adds 
 that no hopes are entertained of his recovery." 
 
 " Was he indisposed at the period in which my learned friend drew 
 up this case ? or was there any intention of summoning him here for 
 examination ?" asked Jones. 
 
 " We did not require Mr. Linton's testimony," replied the Attorney- 
 General. 
 
 " It can scarcely be inferred that we feared it," said a junior barrister, 
 " since the first palpable evidences that implicated the prisoner were 
 discovered by Mr. Linton — the wadding of the pistol, part of a letter 
 in Mr. Cashel's own handwriting, and the tracks corresponding with his 
 boots." 
 
 ^This is all most iiTegular, my Lord," broke in Jones eagerly. 
 "Here are statements thrown out in all the loose carelessness of con- 
 versation, totally unsupported by evidence. I submit that it is im- 
 possible to offer a defence to a cause conducted in this manner." 
 
 " You are quite right, Mr. Jones ; this is not evidence." 
 
 " But this is, my Lord !" said the Attorney- General, in a heated 
 manner ; " and for motives of delicacy we might not have used it, if 
 not driven to this course by the insinuations of counsel. Here is a note 
 in pencil, dated from the * Pass of Ennisraore,' and running thus : — 
 * It looks badly ; but I fear you have no other course than to arrest him. 
 In fact, it is too late for anything else. Consult Malone and Meek,' And 
 this can be proved to be in Mr. Linton's handwriting." 
 
 Mr. Clare Jones did not speak a word as the note was handed up to 
 the Bench, and then to the jury-box ; he even affected to think it of no 
 importance, and did not deig^ to examine it for himself. 
 
556 ROLAlrt) CASHEL. 
 
 " You may go down, Mr. Goring," said he, after a slight pause, in 
 which he appeared dehberating what course to follow. 
 
 Making his way to the side of the dock, Jones addressed himself to 
 Cashel in a low, cautious voice : — 
 
 '^ It now remains with you, Mr. Cashel, to decide whether you will 
 entrust me with the facts on which you ground your innocence, or prefer 
 to see yourself overwhelmed by adverse testimony." 
 
 Cashel made no reply, but leaned his head on his hand in deep 
 thought. 
 
 " Have you any witnesses to call ?" whispered Jones. " Shall we try 
 Sin alibi?" 
 
 Cashel did not answer. 
 
 " What is your defence, Sir, in one word ?" asked Jones, shortly. 
 " I am not guilty," said Cashel, slowly ; " but I do not expect others 
 to believe me so." 
 
 " Is your defence to rest upon that bare assertion ?" asked the lawyer; 
 but Roland did not seem to heed the question, as, folding his arms, he 
 stood erect in the dock, his attention to all appearance bestowed upon 
 the ceremonial of the Court. 
 
 Jones, at once turning to the Bench, expressed his regret that, neither 
 being able, from the shortness of the time, to obtain proper information 
 on the case, nor being honoured by the confidence of the accused, he 
 must decline the task of commenting on the evidence ; and would only 
 entreat the jury to weigh the testimony they had heard with a merciful 
 disposition, and wherever discrepancies and doubts occurred, to give the 
 full benefit of such to the prisoner. 
 
 " You have no witnesses to call ?" asked the judge. 
 " I am told there are none, my lord," said Jones, with an accent of 
 resignation. 
 
 A brief colloquy, in a low voice, ensued between the crown lawyers 
 and Clare Jones, when, at length, a well-known barrister rose to 
 address the jury for the prosecution. The gentleman who now claimed 
 the attention of the court was one, who, not possessing either the patient 
 habits of study, or that minute attention to technical detail which consti- 
 tute the legal mind, was a fluent, easy speaker, with an excellent memory, 
 and a thorough knowledge of the stamp and temperament of the men 
 that usually fill a jury-box. He was eminently popular with that class, 
 on whom he had often bestowed all the flatteries of his craft ; assuring 
 them thjMt their " order" was the bone and sinew of the land, and that 
 " our proudest boast as a nation was in the untitled nobility of 
 commerce." 
 
 His whole address on the present occasion tended to show that the 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 56^ 
 
 murder of Mr. Kennyfeck was one among the many instances of the 
 unbridled license and tyranny assumed by the aristocracy over the middle 
 ranks. 
 
 Mr. Kennyfeck was no bad subject for such eulogium as he desired 
 to bestow. He was the father of a family — a well-known citizen of 
 Dublin — a grave, white-cravatted, pompous man of respectable ex- 
 terior, always seen at vestries, and usually heading the lists of public 
 charities. Cashel was the very antithesis to all this : the reckless squan- 
 derer of accidentally acquired wealth — the wayward and spoiled child of 
 fortune, with the tastes of a Buccaneer and the means of a Prince, sud- 
 denly thrown into the world of fashion. What a terrible ordeal to a 
 mind so untrained — to a temper so unbridled ! and how fearfully had it 
 told upon him! After commenting upon the evidence, and showing 
 in what a continuous chain each event was linked with the other — how 
 consistent were all — how easily explicable every circumstance, he re- 
 marked that the whole case had but one solitary difficulty; and although 
 that was one which weighed more in a moral than a legal sense, it re- 
 quired that he should dwell a few moments upon it. 
 
 " The criminal law of our land. Gentlemen of the Jury, is satisfied 
 with the facts which establish guilt or innocence, without requiring that 
 the motives of accused parties should be too closely scrutinised. Crime 
 consists, of course, of the spirit in which a guilty action is done ; but 
 the law wisely infers that a guilty act is the evidence of a guilty spirit : 
 and therefore, although there may be circumstances to extenuate the 
 criminality of an act, the offence before the law is the same; and the 
 fact, the great fact, that a man has killed his fellow-man, is what 
 constitutes murder. 
 
 " I have said that this case has but one difficulty ; and that is, 
 the possible motive which could have led to the fatal act. Now, this 
 would present itself as a considerable obstacle, if the relations between 
 the parties were such as we happily witness them in every county of 
 this island, where the proprietor and his agent are persons linked, by 
 the sacred obligation of duty, and the frequent intercourse of social 
 life, into the closest friendship. 
 
 "That blood should stain the bonds of such brotherhood would be 
 scarcely credible — and even when credible, inexplicable ; it would be 
 repugnant to all our senses to conceive an act so unnatural. But was 
 the present a similar case ? or rather, was it one exactly the opposite ? 
 You have heard that repeated differences occurred between the parties, 
 amounting even to altercations. Mr. Hoare's evidence has shown you 
 that Mr. Cash el's extravagance had placed him in difficulties of no com- 
 
558 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 mon kind ; his demands for money were incessant, and the utter disregard 
 of the cost of obtaining it almost beyond belief. The exigence on 
 one side, the manly resistance on the other, must have led to constant 
 misunderstanding. But these were not the only circumstances that con- 
 tributed to a feeling of estrangement, soon to become something still 
 more perilous. And here I pause to ask myself how far I am warranted 
 in disclosing facts of a private nature, although in their bearing they 
 have an important relation to the case before us ! It is a question of 
 great delicacy ; and were it not that the eternal interests of Truth and 
 Justice transcend all others, I might shrink from the performance of a 
 task which, considered in a merely personal point of view, is deeply 
 distressing. But it is not of one so humble as myself of whom there is a 
 question here : the issue is, whether a man's blood should be spilled, and 
 no expiation be made for it !" 
 
 The counsel after this entered into a discursive kind of narrative of 
 Cashel's intimacy with the Kennyfeck family, with whom he had been 
 for a time domesticated ; and after a mass of plausible generalities, wound 
 up by an imputed charge, that he had won the affections of the younger 
 daughter, who, with the consent of her parents, was to become his wife. 
 
 *' It will not seem strange to you, Gentlemen," said he, " that I have 
 not called to that table as a witness either the widow or the orphan to prove 
 these facts, or that I have not subjected their sacred sorrows to the rude 
 assaults of a cross-examination. You will not think the worse of me for 
 this reserve : nor shall I ask of you to give my statements the value of 
 sworn evidence : you will hear them, and decide what value they possess 
 in leading you to a true understanding of this case. 
 
 " I have said that if a regular pledge and promise of marriage did not 
 bind these parties, something which is considered equivalent among persons 
 of honour did exist, and that by their mutual acquaintances they were 
 regarded as contracted to each other. Mr. Cashel made her splendid 
 and expensive presents, which had never been accepted save for 
 the relations between them ; he distinguished her on all occasions by 
 exclusive attention, and among his friends he spoke of his approaching 
 marriage as a matter fixed and determined on. In this state of things 
 a discovery took place, which at once served to display the character of 
 the young gentleman, and to rescue the family from one of the very 
 deepest, because one of the most irremediable, of all calamities. Infor- 
 mation reached them, accompanied by such circumstances as left no 
 doubt of its veracity, that this Mr. Cashel had been married already, and 
 that his wife, a young Spanish lady, was still alive, and residing at the 
 Havannah. 
 
KOLAND CASHEL, SSB 
 
 " I leave you to imagine the misery which this sad announcement pro- 
 duced in that circle, where, until he entered it, happiness had never been 
 disturbed. It is not necessary that I should dwell upon the distress 
 this cruel treachery produced : with its consequences alone we have any 
 concern here ; and these were a gradual estrangement — a refusal, calm 
 but firm, to receive Mr. Cashel as before ; an intimation that they knew 
 of circumstances which, from delicacy to him, they would never advert 
 to openly, but which must at once bar all the contemplated relations : 
 and, to this sad, humiliating alternative he submitted! 
 
 " To avoid the slanderous stories which gossip would be certain to put 
 in circulation, they did not decline the invitation they had before 
 accepted to visit Tubbermore : they came, however, under the express 
 stipulation that no close intimacy was ever to be resumed between Mr. 
 Cashel and themselves ; he was not even to use the common privilege of 
 a host — to visit them in their own apartments. That this degree of cold 
 distance was maintained between them, on every occasion, all the guests 
 assembled at the house can testify ; and he neither joined their party 
 in carriage nor on horseback. Perhaps, this interdiction was carried out 
 with too rigid a discipline ; perhaps, the cold reserve they maintained 
 had assumed a character of insult, to one whose blood still glowed 
 with the fire of southern associations ; perhaps, some circumstance, 
 with which we are unacquainted, contributed to render this estrange- 
 ment significant, and consequently painful to a man who could not 
 brook the semblance of a check. It is needless to ask how or whence 
 originating, since we can see in the fact itself cause sufficient for indig- 
 nant reproof on one side, for a wounded self-love and tarnished honour 
 on the other. 
 
 ^' Are we at a loss for such motives, then, in the presence of facts like 
 these ? Ask yourselves. Is a man, bred and trained up in all the riotous 
 freedom of a service scarcely above the rank of piracy — accustomed to 
 the lawless license of a land where each makes the law with his own 
 right hand — is such a man one to bear a slight with patient submission, 
 or to submit to an open shame in tame obedience ? Can you not 
 easily imagine how all the petty differences of opinion they might have 
 had were merely skirmishes in front of that line where deeper and graver 
 feelings stood in battle array ? Can you not suppose that, however 
 ruled over by the ordinary courtesies of life, this youth nourished his 
 plans of ultimate revenge, not only upon those who refused with indig- 
 nation his traitorous alliance, but who were the depository of a secret 
 that must interdict all views of marriage in any other quarter?"^ 
 
560 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER LXV. 
 
 Equal to either fortune. — Eugene Aram. 
 
 As the Crown Counsel sat down, a low murmur ran through the 
 court, whose meaning it would be difficult to define ; for, if the greater 
 number present were carried away by the indignant eloquence of the 
 pleader, to believe Cashel a hardened criminal, some few still seemed to 
 cling to his side, and bent their eyes towards the dock with looks of 
 sympathy and comfort. And oh ! how little know they, whose eyes are 
 beaming with the bright spark that warms their generous hearts, what 
 loadstars are they to him who stands alone, forsaken, and accused in the 
 criminal dock ! What a resting-place does the w^eary and tired soul 
 feel that glance of kindly meaning ! How does it speak to his bruised 
 and wounded spirit of hope and charity ! What energy will it impart 
 to the fast-failing courage! what self-respect and self-reliance to 
 him who, a few moments back, was sinking beneath the abasement of 
 despair ! 
 
 Such was the effect now produced upon Roland Cashel. The array 
 of circumstances, so formidably marshalled by his accuser, had com- 
 pletely overwhelmed him ; the consciousness of innocence failed to sup- 
 port him against the feeling which he saw spreading like a mist around 
 him. Against the accusation — against its fearful penalty — his own 
 stout heart could sustain him ; but how bear up against the contempt 
 and the abhorrence of his fellow-men ! Under the crushing weight of 
 this shame he was sinking fast, when a stray glance — a chance ex- 
 pression of interest, like sunlight piercing a dark cloud — gave pro- 
 mise that all was not lost. He felt that there were yet some who wished 
 to believe him guiltless, and that all sympathy for him had not yet died 
 out. 
 
 " Does the prisoner desire to avail himself of the privilege he 
 possesses to call witnesses to character ?" asked the Judge. 
 
 " No, my Lord," said Cashel, firmly but respectfully. " Since my 
 accession to fortune, my life has been passed for the most part in what 
 is called the ' fashionable world ;' and, from what I have seen of it, the 
 society does not seem rich in those persons whose commendations, were 
 they to give them, would weigh heavily with your Lordship. Besides, 
 they could say little to my praise, which the learned counsel has not 
 already said to my disparagement — that I had the command of wealth, 
 and squandered it without taste and without credit." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 561 
 
 Few and insignificant as were these words, the easy and fearless mode 
 of their delivery, the manly energy of him who spoke them, seemed to 
 produce a most favourable impression throughout the Court, which as 
 rapidly reacted upon Cashel ; for now the embers of hope were fanned, 
 and already glowed into a slight flicker. 
 
 " The prisoner having waived his privilege, my Lord," said the At- 
 torney-General, " I beg to observe that the case is now closed." 
 
 " Is it too late, then, my Lord, for me to address a few words to the 
 Jury ?" asked Roland, calmly. 
 
 " What say you, Mr. Attorney-General ?" asked the Judge. 
 
 *^ Your Lordship knows far better than T, that to address the Court 
 at this stage of the proceedings would be to concede the right of reply — 
 and, in fact, of speaking twice; since the prisoner's not having availed 
 himself of the fitting occasion to comment on the evidence, gives him 
 not the slightest pretension to usurp another one." 
 
 " Such is the law of the case," said the Judge solemnly. 
 
 " I have nothing to observe against it, my Lord," said Cashel. " If 
 I have not availed myself of the privilege accorded to men placed as I 
 am, I must only submit to the penalty my pride has brought upon me — 
 for it was pride, my Lord. Since that, however, another, and I hope a 
 higher pride has animated me, to vindicate my character and my fame; 
 so that, at some future day — a long future it may be — when the true 
 facts of this dark mystery shall be brought to light, a more cautious 
 spirit will pervade men's minds as to the guilt of him assailed by circum- 
 stantial evidence. It might be, my Lord, that all I could adduce in my 
 own behalf would weigh little against the weight of accusations, which 
 even to myself appear terribly consistent. 1 know, for I feel, how hard it 
 would be to accept the cold unsupported narrative of a prisoner, in which 
 many passages might occur of doubtful probability, some of even less 
 credit, and some again of an obscurity to which even he himself could 
 not afford the clue ; and yet, with all these difficulties, enhanced tenfold 
 by my little knowledge of the forms of a Court, and my slender 
 capacity, I regret, my Lord, that I am unable to address the few 
 words I had intended to the Jury — less, believe me, to avert the ship- 
 wreck that awaits myself, than to be a beacon to some other who may 
 be as solitary and unfriended as I am." 
 
 These words, delivered with much feeling, but in a spirit of calm 
 determination, seemed to thrill through the entire assemblage; and even 
 the senior Judge stopped to confer for some minutes with his brother on 
 the bench, in evident hesitation what course to adopt. At length he 
 said — 
 
 2 o 
 
562 BOLAITD CA&HEL. 
 
 " However we may regret the course you have followed in thus 
 depri-ving yourself of that legitimate defence the constitution of our 
 country provides, we see no sufficient reason to deviate from the com- 
 mon order of proceeding in like cases. I will now, therefore, address 
 the Jury, who have already heard your words, and will accord them any 
 consideration they may merit." 
 
 " It may be, my Lord," said Cashel, " that evidence so strongly im- 
 bued with probability may induce the gentlemen in that box to believe 
 me guilty ; in which case, I understand, your Lordship would address to 
 me the formal question, ' If I had anything to say why sentence of 
 death should not be passed upon me.' Now, if I am rightly informed, 
 any observations of a prisoner at such a moment are regarded rather in 
 the light of petitions for mercy, than as explanations or corrections of 
 falsehood. I have, therefore, only now to say, that, whatever de- 
 cision you may come to, the Court shall not be troubled further with 
 interference of mine." 
 
 The Judge bowed slightly, as if in reply to this, and began his 
 charge ; but the Foreman of the Jury, leaning forward, said that his 
 fellow-jurors had desired him to ask, as a favour to themselves, that the 
 prisoner might be heard. A short conference ensued between the 
 Bench and the Crown Counsel, which ended by the permission being 
 accorded ; and now Cashel rose to address the Court. 
 
 " I will not," said he, " abuse the time of this Court by any irrelevant 
 matter, nor will I advert to a single circumstance foreign to the sub- 
 stance of the charge against me. I purpose simply to give a narrative 
 of the last day I passed with my poor friend, and to leave on record 
 this detail as the solemn protestation of innocence of one who has too 
 little to live for, to fear death." 
 
 With this brief preface he began a regular history of that eventful 
 day, from the hour he had started for Tubbermore in company with 
 Mr. Kenny feck. 
 
 The reader is already familiar with every step and circumstance of 
 that period, so that it is not necessary we should weary him by any 
 recapitulation ; — enough if we say that Cashel proceeded, with a minute- 
 ness devoid of all prolixity, to mention each fact as it occurred, com- 
 menting as he went on, upon the evidence already given, and explaining 
 its import without impugning its truth. Juries are ever disposed to 
 listen favourably to a speaker who brings to his aid no other aUies than 
 candour and frankness, and who, without pretensions to legal acuteness, 
 narrates facts Avith clear and distinctive precision. Leaving him, there- 
 fore, still speaking, and by the irresistible force of truth gradually win- 
 
EOLAXD CASHEL. 563 
 
 ning upon his hearers, let us quit the Court for a brief time, and passing 
 through the crowded space before the doors, traverse the town, densely 
 thronged by curious and eager visitors. We do not mean to linger with 
 them, nor overhear the comments they passed upon the eventful scene 
 beside them : our business is about a mile off, at a small public-house at 
 a short distance from the roadside, usually frequented by cattle dealers 
 and the customers at the weekly markets. Here, in a meanly furnished 
 room, where, for it was now evening, a common dip candle shed its 
 lugubrious yellow Mght upon the rude appliances of vulgar life, sat a 
 man whose eager expectancy was marked in every line of his figure. 
 Every now and then he would arise from his chair, and screening the 
 candle from the wind, open the window to look out. 
 
 The night was dark and gusty : drifting rain beat at intervals against 
 the glass, and seemed the forerunner of a greater storm. The individual 
 we have spoken of did not seem to care for, if he even noticed, the incle- 
 mency ; he brushed the wet from his bushy beard and moustaches with 
 indifference, and bent his ear to listen to the sounds upon the road in 
 deepest earnestness. At last the sound of horses' feet and wheels was 
 heard rapidly approaching, and a car drove up to the door, from which 
 a man wrapped up in a loose frieze coat descended, and quickly mounted 
 the stairs. As he reached the landing, the door of the room was thrown 
 wide, and the other man, in a low but distinct voice, said, " Well, what 
 news?" 
 
 '* All right," said he of the frieze coat, as, throwing off the wet gar- 
 ment, he discovered the person of Mr. Clare Jones. ** Nothing could 
 possibly go better; my cross-examination clinched Keane's evidence 
 completely, and no jury could get over it;" 
 
 " I almost wish you had let him alone," said the other, gruffly, and in 
 evident discontent; " I foresee that the sympathy the scoundrel affected 
 will be troublesome to us yet." 
 
 *' I have no fears on that head," replied the other, confidently. " The 
 facts are there, and Crankle's speech to evidence ripped him up in a 
 terrific manner." 
 
 " Did he allude to the Spanish girl ?" 
 " He did, and with great effect.'* 
 
 " And the Kilgoff affair — did he bring ' My Lady' up for judgment ?" 
 "No. The Attorney- General positively forbade all allusion to that 
 business." 
 
 " Oh, indeed !" said the other, with a savage sneer, " ' The Court ' was 
 too sacred for such profanation !" 
 
 " I think he was right, too," said Jones. " The statement could never 
 
 2 o 2 
 
564 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 have been brought to bear upon the case before the Court. It would have 
 been a mere episode outside of the general history, and just as likely im- 
 press the Jury with the opinion that all the charges were trumped up to 
 gain a conviction in any way." 
 
 The other paused, and seemed to reflect for some minutes, when he 
 said, " Well, and what are they at, now?" 
 
 " When I left, the Court had just refused CasheFs demand to address 
 the Jury. The Chief Baron had ruled against him, and of course the 
 charge is now being pronounced. As I knew how this must run, I took 
 the opportunity of coming over here to see you." 
 
 " My name was but once mentioned, you tell me," said the other, in 
 an abrupt manner. 
 
 " It was stated that you were dangerously ill, without hope of re- 
 covery," said Jones, faltering, and with evident awkwardness. 
 
 " And not alluded to again ?" asked the other, whom there is no need 
 of calling Mr. Linton. 
 
 "Yes, once — passingly," said Jones, still faltering. 
 
 " How do you mean passingly?" asked Linton in anger. 
 
 " The Crown Lawyers brought forward that note of yours from En- 
 nismore." 
 
 Linton dashed his closed fist against the table, and uttered a horrible 
 and blasphemous oath. 
 
 *' Some bungling of yours, I'll be sworn, brought this about," said he, 
 savagely; " some piece of that adroit chicanery that always recoils upon 
 its projector." 
 
 <' I'll not endure this language, Sir," said Jones. " I have done more 
 to serve you than any man would have stooped to in my profession. 
 Unsay these words." 
 
 " I do unsay them — I ask pardon for them, my dear Jones. I never 
 meant them seriously," said Linton, in that fawning tone he could so 
 well assume. " You ought to know me better, than to think that /, 
 who have sworn solemnly to make your fortune, could entertain such an 
 opinion of you. Tell me now of this. Did Cashel say anything as the 
 note was read?" 
 
 « Not a syllable." 
 
 "How did he look?" 
 
 « He smiled slightly." 
 
 " Ah, he smiled!" said Linton, growing pale ; " he smiled ! He can 
 do that when he is most determined." 
 
 " What avails all his determination now ? No narrative of his can 
 shake the testimony which the cross-examination has confirmed. It was 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 565 
 
 a master-stroke of yours, Mr. Linton, to think of supplying him with 
 counsel." 
 
 Linton smiled superciliously, as though he was accustomed to higher 
 flights of treachery than this. " So then," said he, at length, " you say 
 the case is strong against him?'' 
 
 " It could scarcely be stronger." 
 
 " And the feeling— how is the feeling of the Court?" 
 
 ** Variable, I should say; in the galleries, and among the fashionably 
 dressed part of the assemblage, inclined somewhat in his favour." 
 
 " How ? Did not the charge of attempted bigamy tell against him 
 with his fair alhes ?" 
 
 " Not so much as I had hoped." 
 
 " What creatures women are!" said Linton, holding up his hands. 
 " And how are they betting ? What says Frobisher ?" 
 
 " He affects to think it no case for odds ; he says there's a little 
 fellow in the jury-box never was known to say ' Guilty.' " 
 
 " A scheme to win money, — a stale trick, my Lord Charles 1" muttered 
 Linton contemptuously ; *• but I've no objection to hedge a little, for all 
 that." 
 
 " I must be going," said Jones, looking at his watch ; " the charge 
 will soon be over, and I must look to the proceedings." 
 
 " Will they be long in deliberation, think you ?" asked Linton. 
 
 " I suspect not ; they are all weary and tired. It is now ten o'clock." 
 
 " I thought it later," said Linton, thoughtfully; " time lags heavily with 
 him whose mind is in expectancy. Hark! there is some one below talking 
 of the trial !" He opened the door to listen. •* What says he?" 
 
 " He speaks of Cashel as still addressing the Court. Can they have 
 consented to hear him, after all?" 
 
 A fearful curse broke from Linton, and he closed the door noiselessly. 
 " See to this, Jones ; see to it speedily. My mind misgives me that 
 something will go wrong." 
 
 " You say that you know him thoroughly, and that he never would — " 
 
 "No, no," broke in Linton, passionately; " he'll not break one tittle 
 of his word, even to save his life ! When he promised me that all should 
 be secret between us, he made no reservations, and you'll see that he'll 
 not avail himself of such privileges, now. I do know him thoroughly.'* 
 
 " Then what, or whence, is your fear?" 
 
 Linton made no other answer than a gesture of his hand, implying 
 some vague and indistinct dread. " But go," said he, " and go quickly. 
 You ought never to have left the Court. Had you remained, perhaps 
 this might have been prevented. If all goes right, you'll be here by 
 
566 KOLANB CASHEL. 
 
 daybreak at farthest, and Keane along with you. Take care of that, 
 
 Jones ; don't lose sight of him. If — if — we are unfortunate and 
 
 do you think such possible ?" 
 
 *' Every thing is possible with a Jury." 
 
 " True," said he, thoughtfully ; " it is an issue we should never have 
 left it to. But away ; hasten back. Great Heaven ! only to think how 
 much hangs upon the next half hour !" 
 
 " To Cashel, you mean ?" said Jones, as he prepared himself for the 
 road. 
 
 " No ; I mean to me. I do know him thoroughly ; and well I know 
 the earth would be too narrow to live upon, were that man once more 
 free and at liberty." 
 
 In his eagerness for Jones's departure, he almost pushed him from the 
 room ; and then, when he had closed and locked the door again, he sat 
 down beside the low flickering fire, and as the fitful light played upon 
 his features, all the appliances of disguise he wore could not hide the 
 terrible ravages that long corroding anxiety had made in him. Far 
 more did he resemble the arraigned criminal than he who now stood in 
 the dock, and with a cheek blanched only by imprisonment, waited 
 calm, collected, and erect — " Equal to either fortune." 
 
 Linton had often felt all the ternble suspense which makes the Para- 
 dise or the Hell of the gambler : he had known what it was to have 
 his whole fortune on the issue, at a moment when the rushing mob of 
 horsemen and foot concealed the winning horse from view, and mingled 
 in their mad cheers the names of those whose victory had been his ruin 
 and disgrace. He had watched the rolling die, on whose surface, as it 
 turned, all he owned in the world was staked ; he had sat gazing on the 
 unturned card, on which his destiny was already written ; — and yet all 
 these moments of agonising suspense were as nothing compared to that 
 he now suffered, as he sat with bent down head trying to catch the 
 sounds, which from time to time the wind bore along from the town. 
 
 As if to feed his mind with hope, he would recapitulate to himself all 
 the weighty and damnatory details which environed Cashel, and which, 
 by their singular consistency and coherence, seemed irrefutable. He 
 would even reckon them upon his fingers, as so many " chances against 
 him." He would try to imagine himself one of the Jury, listening to 
 the evidence and the charge ; and asked himself " were it possible to 
 reject such proofs ?" He pictured to his mind Cashel addressing the 
 Court with all that rash and impetuous eloquence so characteristic of 
 him, and wliich, to more trained and sober tempers, would indicate a 
 nature little subject to the cold discipline of restraint ; and from all 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 567 
 
 these speculative dreams he would start suddenly up, to lean out of the 
 window and listen. Other thoughts, too, would cross his mind, scarcely 
 less distracting. What would become of himself should Cashel escape ? 
 Whither should he retire ? If at one moment, he half resolved to 
 " stand his ground" in the world, and trust to his consummate 
 skill in secret calumny to ruin him, another reflection showed, that 
 Cashel would not play out the game on these conditions. A duel, in 
 which one, at least, must fall, would be inevitable ; and although this 
 was an ordeal he had braved oftener than most men, he had no courage 
 to dare it, now. Through all this tangled web of harassing hope and 
 fear, regrets deep and poigjiant entered, that he had not worked his ruin 
 by slower and safer steps. " I might have been both Judge and Jury — 
 aye, and Executioner too," muttered he, " had I been patient." And 
 here he gave a low sardonic laugh. *' When the hour of confiscation 
 came, I might have played the Crown's part also." But so is it : there is 
 no hahing in the downward course of wickedness ; the very pleadings 
 of self-interest cannot save men from the commission of Crimes, by 
 which they are to hide Follies. 
 
 The slow hours of the night dragged heavily on ; the fire had gone 
 out, and the candle too — unnoticed, and Linton sat in the dark, brood- 
 ing over his gloomy thoughts. At one moment he would start up, 
 and wonder if the whole were not a terrible dream — the nightmare of 
 his own imagination ; and it was only after an effort he remembered 
 where he was, and with what object. He could not see his watch to 
 tell the hour, but he knew it must be late, since the fire had long since 
 died out, and the room was cold and chill. The agony of expectation 
 became at last too great to endure ; he felt his way to the door and 
 passed out, and groping down the narrow stair, reached the outer door, 
 and the road. 
 
 All was dark and lonely; not a sound of horseman or foot-traveller 
 broke the dreary stillness of the hour, as Linton, urged on by an impulse 
 he could not restrain, took his way towards the town. The distance 
 was scarcely above a mile, but his progress was slow, for the road was 
 wet and slippery, and the darkness very great. At last he reached 
 the long straggling suburb, with its interminable streets of wretched 
 hovels; but even here none were yet astir, and not a light was seen to 
 glimmer. To this succeeded the narrow streets of the town itself 
 — where, at long intervals, a dusky yellow haze glimmered by way 
 of lamplight. Stopping beneath one of these, Linton examined his 
 watch, and found that it was near five o'clock. The lateness of the hour, 
 and the unbroken stillness on every side, half-induced him to believe 
 
568 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 that "all was over," and Cashel's fate sealed for good or evil; but then 
 Jones would have hastened back to bring the tidings ! There could not be 
 a doubt on this head. Urged onward to greater speed by emotions which 
 now were scarce supportable, he traversed street after street in frantic 
 haste ; when suddenly, on turning a corner, he came in front of a large 
 building, from whose windows, dimmed by steam, a great blaze of light is- 
 sued, and fell in long columns upon the " Square" in front. A dense, dark 
 mass of human figures crowded the wide doorway, but they were silent 
 and motionless all. Within the Court, too, the stillness was unbroken; 
 for as Linton listened he could now hear a cough, which resounded 
 through the building. 
 
 " The Jury are in deliberation," thought he, and sat down upon the 
 step of a door, his eyes riveted upon the Court-house, and his heart 
 beating so that he could count its strokes. Not far from him, as he sat 
 there, scarcely a hundred paces off, within the building, there sat 
 another man, waiting with a high throbbing heart for that word to be 
 uttered, which should either open the door of his prison, or close that of 
 the grave upon him for ever. The moments of expectancy were terrible 
 to both I they were life-long agonies distilled to seconds ; and he who 
 could live through their pains must come forth from the trial a changed 
 man for ever after. 
 
 liodT 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 569 
 
 CHAPTER LXVI. 
 
 Free to go forth once more, but oh! 
 
 How changed ! Habold. 
 
 A SLIGHT movement in the crowd near the door — a kind of waving 
 motion like the quiet surging of the sea, seemed to indicate some com- 
 motion within the Court ; and although Linton saw this, and judged it 
 rightly as the evidence of something eventful about to happen, he sat 
 still to await the result with the dogged firmness with which he would 
 have awaited death itself. 
 
 As we are less interested spectators of the scene, let us press our way 
 through the tired and exhausted crowd that fill the body of the building. 
 And now we stand beneath the gallery, and immediately behind a 
 group of about half-a-dozen, whose dress and demeanour at once pro- 
 claim them of the world of fashion. These are Lord Charles Frobisher 
 and his friends, who, with memorandum-books and time-pieces before 
 them, sit in eager anxiety, for they have wagers on every thing ; — on 
 the verdict — how the Judge will charge — if the prisoner will confess — 
 if he will attempt a defence ; — and even the length of time the Jury will 
 sit in deliberation, is the subject of a bet ! 
 
 This anxiety was now at its climax, for, directly in front of them, a 
 small door had just opened, and a crowd of men entered, and took their 
 seats in the gallery. 
 
 Their grave countenances, marked by watching and eager discussion, 
 at once proclaimed that they were the Jury. 
 
 There was a low murmur heard throughout the Court as they took 
 their seats; and instinctively many an eye was turned towards the dock, 
 to watch how he bore himself in that trying moment. With a steady 
 gaze fixed upon the spot from which his doom was to be spoken, he 
 stood erect, with arms folded and his head high. He was deathly pale ; 
 but not a trace of anything like fear in the calm lineaments of his 
 manly features. 
 
 " The Jury seem very grave," whispered Upton to Frobisher. 
 
 " I wish that stupid old Judge would bestir himself," replied Lord 
 Charles, looking at his watch ; " it wants four minutes to five : he'll 
 scarcely be in Court before it strikes, and I shall lose a poney 
 through it." 
 
570 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " Here he comes ! — here he comes !" said another ; and the Chief 
 Baron entered the Court, his face betraying that he had been aroused 
 from sleep. 
 
 *' Are you agreed, Gentlemen of the Jury?" asked the Judge, in a 
 low voice. 
 
 " Not perfectly, my Lord," said the Foreman. " We want your 
 Lordship to decide a point for us ; which is — If we should be of opinion 
 that any grave provocation led to the death of Kennyfeck, whether our 
 verdict could be modified, and our finding be, in consequence, for man- 
 slaughter, and not murder," 
 
 " The indictment," said the Judge, *' does not give you that option. 
 It is framed without any count for the minor offence. I ought perhaps 
 also to observe, that nothing has transpired in the evidence given here, 
 this day, to warrant the impression you seem inclined to entertain. Your 
 verdict must be one of Guilty or Not Guilty." 
 
 " We were of opinion, my Lord," said a Juryman, " that great lati- 
 tude in the expression of temper should be conceded to a young man 
 reared and educated as the prisoner has been." 
 
 " These sentiments, honourable to you as they are, cannot be indulged 
 at the expense of justice, however they may find a fitting place in a 
 recommendation to mercy; and even this must be accompanied by 
 something more than sympathies." 
 
 " Well said, old boy !" muttered Frobisher to himself. " My odds 
 are looking up again !" 
 
 " In that case, my Lord, we must retire again," said the Foreman ; 
 and the Jury once more quitted the Court, whose occupants at once 
 resumed all the lounging attitudes from which the late scene had 
 aroused them. Exhaustion, indeed, had overcome all save the prisoner 
 himself, who paced the narrow limits of the dock with slow and noiseless 
 steps, raising his head, at intervals, to watch the gallery, where the Jury 
 were to appear. 
 
 In less than half-an-hour the creaking of a door awoke the drowsy 
 Court, and the Jury were seen re-entering the Box. They continued 
 to talk among each other as they took their seats, and seemed like men 
 still under the influence of warm discussion. 
 
 " Not agreed !" muttered Frobisher, looking at his book. " I stand 
 to win, even on that." 
 
 To the formal question of the Court, the Foreman for an instant 
 made no reply, for he was still in eager conversation with another 
 Juror. 
 
 " How say you, Gentlemen of the Jury ? are you agreed ?" 
 
EOLAKD CASHEL. 571 
 
 " We are, my Lord," said the Foreman ; " that is to say, some of the 
 Jury have conceded to the rest for the sake of a verdict." 
 
 " This does not seem to me Hke agreement," interposed the Judge. 
 " If you be not of the same mind, it will be your duty to retire once 
 more, and strive by the use of argument and reason to bring the mino- 
 rity to your opinion ; or in failure of such result, to avow that you are 
 not like-minded." 
 
 " We have done all that is possible in that respect, my Lord ; and we 
 beg you will receive our verdict." 
 
 " If it be your verdict, Gentlemen," said the Judge, " I desire nothing 
 more." 
 
 " We say. Not Guilty, my Lord," said the Foreman. 
 
 There was a solemn pause followed the words, and then a low murmur 
 arose, which gradually swelled till it burst forth into a very clamour, 
 that only the grave rebuke of the Bench reduced to the wonted deconun 
 of a Court of Justice. 
 
 " I am never disposed, Gentlemen of the Jury, to infringe upon the 
 sacred prerogative which environs your office. You are responsible to 
 God and your own consciences for the words you have uttered here, this 
 day ; but my duty requires that I should be satisfied that you have come 
 to your conclusion by a due understanding of the facts laid before you 
 in evidence, by just and natural inferences from those facts, and by 
 weighing well and dispassionately all that you have heard, here, to the 
 utter exclusion of anything you may have listened to, outside of this 
 Court. Is your verdict in accordance with these conditions ?" 
 
 " So far, my Lord, as the mysterious circumstances of this crime ad- 
 mit, I believe it Is. We say ' Not Guilty,' from a firm conviction on our 
 minds that we are saying the truth." 
 
 " Enough," said the Judge. " Clerk, record the Verdict." Then turn- 
 ing to the dock, towards which every eye was now bent, he continued, — 
 " Roland Cashel, a jury of your countrymen, solemnly sworn to try you 
 on the charge of murder, have this day pronounced you * Not Guilty.' 
 You go, therefore, free from this dock, to resume that station you occu- 
 pied in society, without stain upon your character or blemish upon your 
 fame. The sworn verdict we have recorded obliterates the accusation. 
 But, for the sake of justice, for the interests of the glorious prerogative 
 we possess in Trial by Jury, for the sacred cause of Truth itself, I implore 
 you, before quitting this Court, to unravel the thread of this dark mys- 
 tery, so far as In you lies — to fill up those blanks in the narrative you 
 have already given us — to confirm, to the extent in your power, the jus- 
 tice of that sentence by which you are restored once more to the society 
 
572 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 of your friends and family. This, I say, is now your duty; and the 
 example you will give, in performing it, will reflect credit upon yourself, 
 and do service to the cause of truth, when you, and I, and those around 
 us shall be no more." 
 
 It was with stronger show of emotion than Cashel had yet displayed 
 that he leaned over the dock, and said, " My Lord, when life, and some- 
 thing more than life, were in peril, I deemed it right to reserve certain 
 details from the notoriety of this Court. I did so, not to involve any 
 other in the suspicion of this guilt, whose author I know not. I did not 
 do so from any caprice, still less from that misanthropic affectation the 
 Counsel was ungenerous enough to ascribe to me. I believed that I had 
 good and sufficient reasons for the course I adopted. I still think I have 
 such. As to the rest, the discovery of this guilt is now become the duty 
 of my life — I owe it to those whose words have set me free, and I pledge 
 myself to the duty." 
 
 The Bench now conferred with the Crown Lawyers as to the proceed- 
 ings necessary for the discharge of the prisoner ; and already the crowds, 
 wearied and exhausted, began to withdraw. The interest of the scene 
 was over ; and in the various expressions of those that passed might 
 be read the feelings with which they regarded the result. Many 
 reprobated the verdict as against law and all the facts ; some, attributed 
 the " finding'' to the force of caprice ; others, even hinted the baser 
 motive, that they didn't like " to hang a man who spent his income at 
 home;" and others, again, surmised that bribery might have had " some- 
 thing to do with it." Few believed in Cashel's innocence of the crime ; 
 and even they said nothing, for their convictions were more those of 
 impulse than reason. 
 
 " Who could have thought it !" muttered Upton, as, with a knot of 
 others, he stood waiting for the crowd to pass out. 
 
 Frobisher shrugged his shoulders, and went on totting a line of 
 figures in his memorandum-book. 
 
 "Better off than I thought!" said he to himself; "seven to five 
 taken that he would not plead — eight to three, that he would not call 
 Linton. Long odds upon time won : lost by verdict four hundred and 
 fifty. Well, it might have been worse; and I've got a lesson, never 
 to trust a Jury." 
 
 " I say, Charley," whispered Upton, " what are you going to do ?" 
 
 " How do you mean ?" 
 
 " Will you go up and speak to him ?" said he, with a motion of his 
 head towards the dock. 
 
 Frobisher's sallow cheek grew scarlet. Lost and dead to every 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 573 
 
 sense of honourable feeling for many a day, the well had not altogether 
 dried up ; and it was with a look of cutting insolence he said — 
 
 " No, Sir; if I did not stand by him, before, I'll not be the hound to 
 crawl to his feet, now." 
 
 " By Jove! I don't see the thing in that light. He's all right now, 
 and there's no reason why we shouldn't know him as we used to do." 
 
 " Are you so certain that he will know you f was Frobisher's sharp 
 reply as he turned away. 
 
 The vast moving throng pressed forward, and now all were speedily 
 co-mingled — spectators, lawyers, jurors, witnesses. The spectacle was 
 over, and the empty Court stood silent and noiseless, where a few 
 moments back human hopes and passions had surged like the waves of 
 a sea. 
 
 The great space in front of the Court-house, filled for a few moments 
 by the departing crowd, grew speedily silent and empty — for day had 
 not yet broken, and all were hastening homeward to seek repose. One 
 figure alone was seen to stand in that spot, and then move slowly, and 
 to all seeming irresolutely, onward. It was Cashel himself, who, unde- 
 cided whither to turn, walked listlessly and carelessly on. 
 
 As he turned the corner of a street, a jaunting-car, around which 
 some travellers stood, stopped the way, and he heard the words of the 
 driver, * 
 
 " There's another place to spare." 
 
 « Where for?" asked Cashel. 
 
 " Limerick, Sir," said the man. 
 
 " Drive on, b — t you," cried a deep voice from the other side of the 
 vehicle ; and the fellow's whip descended with a heavy slash, and the 
 beast struck out into a gallop, and speedily was out of sight. 
 
 " Didn't you see who it was ?" muttered the speaker to the man 
 beside him. 
 
 "No." 
 
 " It was Cashel himself — I knew him at once ; and I tell you, Jones, 
 he would have known me too, for all this disguise, when a gleam of day 
 came to shine." 
 
 As for Cashel, he stood gazing after the departing vehicle with a 
 strange chaos of thought working within. " Am I then infamous?" said 
 he at last, " that these men will not travel in my company ! Is it to this 
 the mere accusation of crime has brought me !" And, slight as the 
 incident was, it told upon him as some acrid substance would irritate 
 and corrode an open wound — ^festering the tender surface. 
 
 " Better thus dreaded than the 'Dupe' I have been !" said he boldly. 
 
574 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 and entered the inn, where now the preparations for the coming day 
 had begun. He ordered his brealifast, and post-horses for Killaloe, 
 resolved to see Tubbermore once again, ere he left it for ever. 
 
 It was a bright morning in the early spring as Cashel drove through 
 the wide-spreading park of Tubbermore. Dewdrops spangled the grass, 
 amid which crocus and daffodil flowers were scattered. The trees were 
 topped with fresh buds; the birds were chirping and twittering on the 
 branches ; the noiseless river, too, flowed past, its circling eddies looking 
 like blossoms on the stream. All was joyous and redolent of promise ; 
 save him whose humbled spirit beheld in everything around him the 
 signs of self-reproach. 
 
 " These," thought he, " were the rich gifts of fortune that I have 
 squandered ! This was the paradise I have laid waste ! , Here, where I 
 might have lived happy, honoured, and respected, I see myself wretched 
 and shunned ! The defeats we meet with in hardy and hazardous enter- 
 prise are softened down by having dared danger fearlessly — by having 
 combatted manfully with the enemy. But what solace is there for him 
 whose reverses spring from childlike weakness and imbecility — whose 
 life becomes the plaything of parasites and flatterers ! Could I ever 
 have thought I would become this? What should I once have said of 
 him who would have prophesied me such as I now am 1" 
 
 These gloomy reveries grew deeper and darker as he wandered from 
 place to place, and marked the stealthy glances and timid reverences of 
 the peasants as they passed him. " It is only the jury have called me 
 *Not Guilty,' " said he to himself; " the world has pronounced another 
 verdict. I have come from that dock as one might have risen from an 
 unhonoured grave, to be looked on with fear and sorrow. Be it so ; 
 mine must be a lonely existence." 
 
 Every room he entered recalled some scene of his past life. Here 
 was the spacious hall, where, in all the excesses of the banquet, laughter 
 had rung and wit had sparkled, loud toasts were proffered, and high- 
 spirited mirth had once held sway. Here was the drawing-room, where 
 grace and female loveliness were blended, mingling their odours like 
 flowers in a " bouquet." Here, the little chamber he had often sought 
 to visit Lady Kilgoff, and passed those hours of " sweet converse" 
 wherein his whole nature became changed, and his rude spirit softened 
 by the tender influences of a woman's mind. Here was his own 
 favourite room — the spot from which, in many an hour snatched from 
 the cares of host, he had watched the wide-flowing river, and thought 
 of the current of his own life, mingling with his reveries many a higli 
 hope and many a glorious promise. And now the whole scene was 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 575 
 
 changed. The mirth, the laughter, the guests, the hopes, were fled, 
 and he stood alone in those silent halls, that never again were to echo 
 with the glad voice of pleasure. 
 
 The chief object of his return to Tubbermore was to regain pos- 
 session of that document which he had concealed in the cleft of a beech- 
 tree, before scaling the approach to the window. He found the spot 
 without difficulty, and soon possessed himself of the paper ; the con- 
 tents of which, however, from being conveyed in a character he was 
 not familiar with, he could not master. 
 
 He next proceeded to the gate-lodge, desirous to see Keane, and make 
 some arrangement for his future support before he should leave Tubber- 
 more. The man, however, was absent; his wife, whose manner betrayed 
 considerable emotion, said that her husband had returned in company 
 with another, who remained without, while he hastily packed a few 
 articles of clothing in a bundle, and then left the house, whither to she 
 knew not. 
 
 Roland's last visit was to Tie may's house; but he, too, was from home. 
 He had accompanied Corrigan to Dublin, intending to take leave of him 
 there ; but a few hurried Unes told that he had resolved to proceed further 
 with his friends, and darkly hinting that his return to the village was 
 more than doubtful. 
 
 Wherever Cashel turned, desertion and desolation met him ; and the 
 cutting question that ever recurred to his mind was, " Is this my doing? 
 Are these the consequences of my folly ?" The looks of the villagers 
 seemed to tally with the accusation, as in cold respect they touched their 
 hats as he passed, but never spoke : "not one said God bless him." 
 
 He twice set out for the cottage, and twice turned back — his overfull 
 heart almost choked with emotion. The very path that led thither 
 reminded him too fully of the past, and he turned from it into the wood, 
 to wander about for hours long lost in thought. 
 
 He sought and found relief in planning out something for his future 
 life. The discovery of the murderer — the clearing up of the terrible 
 mystery that involved that crime — had become a duty, and he resolved 
 to apply himself to it steadily and determinedly. His unacquitted debt 
 of vengeance on Linton, too, was not forgotten. These accomplished, 
 he resolved again to betake himself to the '' new world beyond seas." 
 Wealth had become distasteful to him : it was associated with all that 
 lowered and humiliated him. He felt that with poverty his manly re- 
 liance, his courageous daring to confront danger, would return — that 
 once more upon the wild prairie, or the blue waters of the Pacific, he 
 would grow young of heart and high in spirit, forge tting the puerile 
 
576 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 follies into which a life of affluence had led him. " Would that I could 
 believe it all a dream," thought he ; " would that this whole year was 
 but a vision, and that I could go back to what I once was, even as ' the 
 Buccaneer' they called me!" 
 
 His last hours in Tubbermore were spent in arrangements that 
 showed he never intended to return there. His household was all dis- 
 charged, — his equipages and horses despatched to the capital to be sold, 
 — his books, his plate, and all that was valuable in furniture, were 
 ordered to be packed up and transmitted to Dublin. He felt a kind of 
 malicious pleasure in erasing and effacing as it were every trace of the 
 last few months. 
 
 *'I will leave it," muttered he, "to become the wreck I found it — 
 would that I could be what I was ere I knew it !" 
 
 The following day he left Tubbermore for ever, and set out for 
 Dublin. 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 577 
 
 Chapter LXVII. 
 
 And, with a sleuth-hound's scent, 
 Smells blood afar ! 
 
 It was nightfall when Roland Cashel entered Dublin. The stir and 
 movement of the day was over, and that brief interval which separates 
 the life of business from that of pleasure had succeeded. Few were 
 stirring in the streets, and they were hastening to the dinner parties, 
 whose hour had now arrived. It was little more than a year since 
 Cashel had entered that same capital, and what a change had come over 
 him within that period ! Then, he was buoyant in all the enjoyment of 
 youth, health, and affluence; now, although still young, sorrow and care 
 had worn him into premature age. His native frankness had become 
 distrust; his generous reliance on the world's good faith had changed 
 into a cold and cautious reserve which made him detestable to himself. 
 
 Although he passed several of his former acquaintance without being 
 recognised, he could not persuade himself but that their avoidance 
 of him was intentional, and he thought he saw a purpose-like inso- 
 lence in the pressing entreaties with which the newsvenders persecuted 
 him to buy " The Full and True Report of the Trial of Roland Cashel 
 for Murder." 
 
 And thus it was that he whose fastidious modesty had shrunk from 
 everything like the notoriety of fashion, now saw himself exposed to 
 that more terrible ordeal the notoriety of crime. The consciousness of 
 innocence could not harden him against the poignant suffering the late 
 exposure had inflicted. His whole life laid bare! Not even to gratify 
 the morbid curiosity of gossips; not to amuse the languid listlessness of 
 a world devoured by its own ennui; but far worse! — To furnish motives 
 for an imputed crime ! to give the clue to a murder ! — In the bitterness 
 of his torn heart, he asked himself — " Have I deserved all this ? — Is this 
 the just requital for my conduct towards others ? Have the hospita-ity 
 I have extended, the generous assistance I have proffered; have the 
 thousand extravagances I have committed to gratify' others — no other 
 fruits than these ?" Alas ! the answer of his enlightened intelligence 
 could no longer blind him by its flatteries. He recognised at last, that 
 to his abuse of fortune were owing all his reverses ; that the capricious 
 extravagance of the rich man — his misplaced generosity — his pompous 
 display — can create enemies far more dangerous than all the straits and 
 appliances of rebellious poverty ; that the tie of an obligation which 
 can ennoble a generous nature, may, in a bad heart, develope the very 
 
 2 p 
 
578 ROLAOT) CASHEL. 
 
 darkest elements of iniquity ; and that he who refuses to be bound by 
 gratitude is enslaved by hate ! 
 
 He stopped for an instant before Kennyfeek's house ; the closed shut- 
 ters and close-drawn blinds bespoke it still the abode of mourning. He 
 passed the residence of the Kilgoffs, and there, the grass-grown steps 
 and rusted knocker spoke of absence. They had left the country. He 
 next came to his own mansion — that spacious building which, at the 
 same hour, was wont to be brilliant mth wax-lights and besieged by 
 fast arriving guests, where the throng of carriages pressed forward in 
 eager haste, and where, as each step descended, some form or figure 
 moved by, great in fame or more illustrious still by beauty. Now, all 
 was dark, gloomy, and deserted. A single gleam of light issued from 
 the kitchen, which was speedily removed as Roland knocked at the door. 
 The female servant who opened the door nearly dropped the candle 
 as she recognised the features of her master, who, without speaking, 
 passed on, and without even removing his hat entered the library. 
 Profuse in apologies for the disorder of the furniture, and excuses for the 
 absence of the other servants, she followed him into the room, and 
 stood, half in shame and half in terror, gazing at the wan and worn 
 countenance of him she remembered the very ideal of health and youth. 
 " If we only knew your honour was coming home to-night — " 
 " I did not know it myself, good woman, at this hour yesterday. Let 
 me have something to eat — well, a crust of bread and a glass of wine 
 — there's surely so much in the house?" 
 
 " I can give your honour some bread, but all the wine is packed up 
 and gone." 
 
 " Gone r whither, and by wl^iose^ order?" said Roland, calmly, 
 " Mr. Phillis, Sir, sent it ofP about ten days ago, with the plate, and 
 I hear both are off to America." 
 
 " The bread alone, then, with a glass of water, will do," said he, 
 without any emotion or the least evidence of surprise in his manner. 
 
 " The fare smacks of the prison still," said' Roland, as he sat at his 
 humble meal ; " and truly the house itself is almost as gloomy," 
 
 The aspect of everything was sad and depressing. Neglect and 
 disorder pervaded wherever he turned his steps. In some of the rooms 
 the remains of past orgies still littered the tables. Smashed vases of 
 rare porcelain — broken mirrors — torn pictures — all the work, in fact, 
 which ruffian intemperance in its most savage mood accomplishes, told 
 who were they who replaced his- fashionable society; while, as if to 
 show the unfeeling- spirit of the reveller^ several of the pasquinades 
 against himself, the libellous calumnies- of the- low press, the disgusting 
 caricatures of infamous prints, werescattered' about amid the wrecks of 
 the debauch. 
 
ROLAin) CASHEL, 579 
 
 Roland saw these things with sorrow, but without anger, " I must 
 have fallen low,, indeed,;" muttered he, " when it is by such men I am 
 judged." 
 
 In the room which once had been his study a great, pile of unsettled 
 bills covered the table^ the greater number of which he remembered to 
 have given the money for; there were no letters however, nor even one 
 card of an acquaintance, so that, save to his creditors, his very existence 
 seemed to be forgotten. 
 
 Wearied of his sad pilgrimage from room to room, he sat down at 
 last in a small boudoir, which it had been his caprice once to adorn with 
 the portraits of " his friends !" sketched by a fashionable artist. There 
 they were, all smiling blandly, as he left them. What a commentary 
 on their desertion of him were the looks so full of benevolence and 
 affection ! There was Frobisher, lounging in all the ease of fashionable 
 indifference, but still with a smile upon his languid features. There 
 was Upton, the very picture of straightforward good feeling and 
 frankness. There was Jennings, all beaming with generosity ; and 
 Linton too, occupying the chief place, seemed to stare with the very 
 expression of resolute attachment that so often, had imposed on Cashel, 
 and made him think him a most devoted, but perhaps an indiscreet, 
 friend. Rowland's own portrait had been turned to the wall, while on 
 the reverse was written in large characters the words, " To be hung, or 
 hanged, elsewhere." The brutal jest brought the colour for an instant 
 to his cheek, but the next moment he was calm and tranquil as before. 
 
 Lost in musings, the time stole by ; and it was late in the night ere 
 he betook himself to rest. His sleep was the heavy slumber of an over- 
 worked mind; but he awoke refreshed and with a calm courage to 
 breast the tide of fortune, however it might run. 
 
 Life seemed to present to him two objects of paramount Interest. 
 One of these was the discovery of Kennyfeck's murderer ; the second 
 was the payment of his debt of vengeance to Linton. Some secret 
 instinct induced him to couple the two together ; and although neither 
 reason nor reflection afforded a clue to link them, they came ever in 
 company before his mind, and rose like one fact before him. 
 
 Mr. Hammond, the eminent lawyer, to whom he had written a few 
 lines, came punctually at ten o'clock to confer with him. Roland had 
 determined to reveal no more of his secret to the ears of counsel than 
 he had already done before the Court, when an accidental circumstance 
 totally changed the course of his proceeding. 
 
 "I have sent for you, Mr. Hammond," said Cashel,, as soon as they 
 were seated, " to enlist your skilful services in tracing out the real 
 authors of a crime of which I. narrowly escaped the penalty. I will 
 
 2p2 
 
580 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 first, however, entreat your attention to another matter, for this may be 
 the last opportunity ever afforded me of personally consulting you." 
 
 " You purpose to live abroad, Sir ?" asked Hammond. 
 
 " I shall return to Mexico," said Roland, briefly ; and then resumed : 
 " Here is a document, Sir, of whose tenor and meaning I am ignorant, 
 but of whose importance I cannot entertain a doubt : will you peruse it ?" 
 
 Hammond opened the parchment ; but scarcely had his eyes glanced 
 over it when he laid it down before him, and said, 
 
 '•' I have seen this before, Mr. Cashel. You are aware that I already 
 gave you my opinion as to its value ?" 
 
 " I am not aware of that," said Roland, calmly. " Pray, in whose 
 possession did you see it, and what does it mean ?" 
 
 Hammond seemed confused for a few seconds ; and then, as if over- 
 coming a scruple, said, 
 
 '* We must both be explicit here, Sir. This document was shown to 
 me by Mr. Linton at Limerick, he, alleging that it was at your desire 
 and by your request. As to its import, it simply means that you hold 
 your present estates without a title ; that document being a full pardon, 
 revoking all penalty of confiscation against the heirs of Miles Corrigan, 
 and reinstating them and theirs in their ancient possessions. Now,,. Sip, 
 may I ask, do you hear this for the first time ?" fo nd 
 
 Roland nodded in acquiescence ; his heart was too full for utterance, 
 and the sudden revulsion of his feeling had brought a sickly sensation 
 over him. 
 
 " Mr. Linton," resumed Hammond, " in showing me this deed, spoke 
 of a probable alliance between you and the grandaughter of Mr, Cor- 
 rigan ; and I freely concurred in the propriety of a union which might 
 at once settle the difficulty of a very painful litigation . He promised 
 me more full information on the subject, and engaged me to make 
 searches for a registry, if such existed, of the pardon ; but I heard nothing 
 more from him, and the matter escaped my memory till this moment." 
 
 " So that all this while I have been dissipating that which was not 
 mine," said Roland, with a bitterness of voice and manner that bespoke 
 what he suffered. 
 
 " You have done what some thousands have done, are doing, and 
 will do hereafter — enjoyed possession of that which the law gave you, 
 and which a deeper research into the same law may take away." 
 
 " And Linton knew this?" 
 
 " He certainly knew my opinion of this document ; but am I to sup- 
 pose that you were ignorant of it, up to this moment?" 
 
 "You shall hear all," said Cashel, passing his hand across his brow, 
 which now ached with the torture of intense emotion. *' To save myself 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 581 
 
 from all the ignominy of a felon's death, I did not reveal this hefore. It 
 was with me as a point of honour, that I would reserve this man for a 
 personal vengeance ; but now, a glimmering light is breaking on my 
 brain, that darker deeds than all he worked against me lie at his door, 
 and that in following up my revenge I may be but robbing the scaffold 
 of its due. Listen to me attentively." So saying, Cashel narrated 
 every event of the memorable day of Kennyfeck's death, detailing his 
 meeting with Enriquez in the glen, and his last interview with Linton 
 in his dressing-room. 
 
 Hammond heard all with deepest interest, only interrupting at times to 
 ask such questions as might throw light upon the story. The whole body 
 of the circumstantial evidence against Roland not only became easily 
 explicable, but the shrewd perception of the lawyer also saw the con- 
 summate skill with which the details had been worked into regular 
 order, and what consistency had been imparted to them. The great 
 difficulty of the case lay in the fact, that, supposing Kennyfeck's death 
 had been planned by others, with the intention of imputing the crime to 
 Cashel, yet all the circumstances, or nearly all, which seemed to imply 
 his guilt, were matters of perfect accident for which they never could 
 have provided, nor even ever foreseen : such as his entrance by the 
 window — his torn dress — the wound of his hand — and the blood upon 
 his clothes. 
 
 *' I see but one clue to this mystery,*' said Hammond, thoughtfully ; 
 " but the more I reflect upon it, the more likely does it seem. Kenny- 
 feck's fate was intended for you — he fell by a mistake." 
 
 Roland started with astonishment, but listened with deep attention, as 
 Hammond recapitulated everything which accorded with this assump- 
 tion. 
 
 " But why was one of my own pistols taken for the deed ?" 
 
 " Perhaps to suggest the notion of suicide." 
 
 '' How could my death have been turned to profit ? Was I not 
 better as the living dupe than as the dead enemy?" 
 
 " Do you not see how your death legalised the deed with a forged 
 signature ? Who was to dispute its authenticity ? Besides, how know 
 we what ambitions Linton may not have cherished when holding in his 
 hands the only title to the estate. We may go too fast with these sus- 
 picions, but let us not reject them as inconsistent. Who is this same 
 witness, Keane ? what motives had he for the gratitude he evinced on the 
 trial?" ' 
 
 *' None whatever : on the contrary, I never showed him any favour ; 
 it was even my intention to dismiss him from the gate-lodge." 
 
 " And he was aware of this ?" 
 
582 ROLAND CA6HEL. 
 
 " Perfectly. He had besought several people to intercede for him, 
 Linton among the rest." 
 
 *• So that he was known to Linton ? And what has become of him 
 since the trial ?" 
 
 " That is the strangest of all. My wish was to have done something 
 for the poor fellow. I could not readily forget the feeling he showed, 
 at a moment, too, when none seemed to remember me ; so that when I 
 reached Tubberraore I at once repaired to the lodge, but he was 
 gone." 
 
 " And in what direction ?" 
 
 *' His wife could not tell. The poor creature was distracted at being 
 deserted, and seemed to think — from what cause I know not — that he 
 would not return. He had come back after the trial in company with 
 another, who remained on the road-side while Keane hastily packed up 
 some clothes, after which they departed ttogether." 
 
 " This must be thought of," said Hammond, gravely, while he wrote 
 some lines in his note-book. 
 
 " It is somewhat strange, indeed," said Cashel, " that the very men 
 to whom my gratitude is most due are those who seem to avoid me. 
 Thus — Jones, who gave me his aid upon the trial — " 
 
 " Do not speak of him. Sir," said Hammond, in a voice of agitation ; 
 "he is one who has sullied an order that has hitherto been almost 
 without a stain. There is but too much reason to think that he was 
 bribed to destroy you. His whole line of cross-examination on the 
 trial was artfully devised to develope whatever might injure you ; but the 
 treachery turned upon the men who planned it. The Attorney- General 
 saw it, and the Court also. It was this saved you.'* 
 
 Cashel sat powerless and speechless at "this disclosure. It seemed to 
 fill up in his mind the cup of iniquity, and he never moved nor uttered 
 a word as he listened. 
 
 " Jones you will never see again. The Bar of some other land across 
 the sea may receive him, but there is not one here would stoop to be his 
 colleague. But now for others more important. I will this day obtain 
 the Judge's notes of the trial, and give the whole case the deepest con- 
 sideration. Inquiry shall be set on foot as to Keane, with whom he has 
 gone, and in what direction. Linton, too, must be watched ; the report 
 is that he lies dangerously ill at his country house, but that story may 
 be invented to gain time." 
 
 Cashel could scarcely avoid a smile at the rapidity with which the 
 lawyer detailed his plan of operation, and threw out, as he went, the 
 signs of distrust so characteristic of his craft. As for himself, he was 
 enjoined to remain in the very strictest privacy — to see no one, nor even 
 to leave the house, except after nightfall. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 583 
 
 " Rely upon it," said Hammond, " your every movement is watched ; 
 and our object will be to ascertain by whom. This will be our first 
 clue ; and when we obtain one, others will soon follow." 
 
 It was no privation for Cashel to follow a course so much in accord- 
 ance with his wishes. Solitude — even that which consigned him to the 
 saddest reveries — was far more pleasurable than any intercourse ; so 
 that he never ventured beyond the walls of his house for weeks, nor 
 exchanged a word, except with Hammond, who regularly visited him 
 each day, to report the progress of his investigation. 
 
 The mystery did not seem to clear away, even by the skilful con- 
 trivances of the lawyer. Of Keane not a trace could be discovered ; 
 nor could any clue be obtained as to his companion. All that Hammond 
 knew was, that although a doctor's carriage daily drove to Linton's 
 house, Linton himself had long since left the country — it was believed 
 for the continent. 
 
 Disappointed by continual failures, and wearied by a life whose only 
 excitement lay in anxieties and cares, Cashel grew each day sadder and 
 more depressed. The desire for vengeance, too, that first had filled his 
 mind, grew weaker as time rolled on. The wish to reinstate himself 
 fully in the world's esteem diminished, as he lived apart from all its 
 intercourse, and he sank into a low and gloomy despondency, which 
 soon showed its ravages upon his face and figure. 
 
 One object alone remained for him — this was to seek out Corrigan, 
 and place in his hand the document of his ancestor's pardon ; this done, 
 Roland resolved to betake himself to Mexico, and again, among the 
 "haunts of his youth, to try and forget that life of civilisation which had 
 cost him so dearly. 
 
584 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVIII. 
 
 How sweete and lovely dost thou make the shame 
 
 Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose, 
 Doth spot the beautie of thy budding name. 
 
 Some years passed over, and the name of Roland Cashel ceased to 
 be uttered, or his memory even evoked, in that capital, where once his 
 wealth, his eccentricities, and his notoriety had been the theme of 
 every tongue. A large neglected-looking house, with closed shutters 
 and grass-grown steps, would attract the attention of some passing 
 stranger to ask whom it belonged to, but the name of Mr. Cashel was 
 almost all that many knew of him, and a vague impression that he was 
 travelling in some remote and far-away land. 
 
 Tubbermore, too, fell back into its former condition of ruin and 
 decay. No one seemed to know into whose hands the estate had fallen, 
 but the talismanic word " Chancery" appeared to satisfy every inquiry, 
 and account for a desolation that brooded over the property and all who 
 dwelt on It. The very *' Cottage" had yielded to the course of time, and 
 little remained of it save a few damp discoloured walls and blackened 
 chimneys ; while here and there a rare shrub, or a tree of foreign growth, 
 rose among the rank weeds and thistles, to speak of the culture which 
 once had been the pride of this lovely spot. 
 
 Had there been a " curse upon the place," it could not have been more 
 dreary and sad-looking! 
 
 Of the gate-lodge — where Keane lived — a few straggling ruins 
 alone remained, in a corner of which a miserable family was herded 
 together — their wan looks and tattered clothing showing that they were 
 dependent for existence on the charity of the very poor. These were 
 Keane's wife and children, to whom he never again returned. There 
 was a blight over everything. The tenantry themselves, no longer 
 subject to the visits of the agent, the stimulus to all Industry with- 
 drawn, would scarcely labour for their own support, but passed their 
 lives in brawls and quarrels, which more than once had led to a felon's 
 sentence. The land lay untilled ; the cattle, untended, strayed at will 
 through the unfenced fields. The villages on the property were 
 crammed by a host of runaway wretches whose crimes had driven them 
 from their homes, till at length the district became the plague-spot of 
 the country, where, even at noonday, few strangers were bold enough to 
 enter, and the word *' Tubbermore" had a terrible significance In the 
 neighbourhood round about. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 585 
 
 Let us now turn for the last time to him whose fortune had so 
 powerfully influenced his property, and whose dark destiny seemed to 
 throw its shadow over all that once was his. For years Roland Cashel 
 had been a wanderer. He travelled every country of the Old World and 
 the New ; his appearance and famiUarity with the language enabling 
 him to assume the nationality of a Spaniard, and thus screen him from 
 that painful notoriety to which his story was certain to expose him. 
 Journeying alone and in the least expensive manner — for he no longer 
 considered himself entitled to any of the property he once enjoyed — he 
 made few acquaintances and contracted no friendships. One object alone 
 gave a zest to existence — to discover Mr. Corrigan and place within his 
 hands the title-deeds of Tubbermore. With this intention he had searched 
 through more than half of Europe, visiting the least frequented towns, 
 and pursuing inquiries in every possible direction — at one moment 
 cheered by some glimmering prospect of success, at another dashed by 
 disappointment and failure. If a thought of Linton did occasionally 
 cross him, he struggled manfully to overcome the temptings of a pas- 
 sion which should thwart the dearest object of his life, and make ven- 
 geance predominate over truth and honesty. As time rolled on the 
 spirit of his hatred became gradually weaker ; and if he did not forgive 
 all the ills his treachery had worked, his memory of them was less fre- 
 quent and less painful. 
 
 His was a cheerless, for it was a friendless, existence. Avoiding his 
 own countrymen from the repugnance he felt to sustain his disguise by 
 felsehood, he wandered from land to land and city to city like some 
 penitent in the accomplishment of a vow. The unbroken monotony of 
 this life, the continued pressure of disappointment, at last began to tell 
 upon him, and in his moody abstractions — his fits of absence and me- 
 lancholy — might be seen the change which had come over him. He 
 might have been a long time ignorant of an alteration which not only 
 impressed his mind, but even his " outward man," when his attention 
 was drawn to the fact by overhearing the observations of some young 
 Englishmen upon his appearance as he sat one evening in a cafe at 
 Naples. Conversing in all that careless freedom of our young country- 
 men, which never supposes that their language can be understood by 
 others, they criticised his dress, his sombre look, and his manner ; and, 
 after an animated discussion as to whether he were a refugee political 
 offender, a courier, or a spy, they wound up by a wager that he was at 
 least forty years of age. One of the party dissenting on the ground 
 that, although he looked it, it was rather from something on the fellow's 
 mind, than years, — 
 
 " How shall we find out?'' cried the proposer of the bet. " I, for one, 
 shouldn't like to ask him his age." 
 
586 BOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 «If I knew Spanish enough, I'd do it at once," said another. 
 
 " It might cost you dearly, Harry, for all that ; he looks marvellously 
 like a fellow that wouldn't brook trifling." 
 
 " He wouldn't call it trifling to lose me ten ^ carlines,' and I'm sure I 
 should win my wager, so here goes at him with French." Bising at the 
 same moment, the young man crossed the room and stood before the 
 table where Cashel sat, with folded. arms and bent-down head, listening 
 in utter indifference to all that passed. "Monsieur!" said the youth, 
 bowing. Cashel looked up, and his dark, heavily -browed eyes seemed 
 to abash the other, who stood, blushing, and uncertain what to do. 
 
 With faltering accents and downcast look he began to mutter excuses 
 for his intrusion; when Cashel, in a, mild and gentle voice, interrupted 
 him, saying, in English, "I am your countryman, young gentleman, and 
 my age not six-and-twenty." 
 
 The quiet courtesy of his manner as he sfpoke, as well as the surprise 
 at his being English, seemed to increase the youth's shame for the liberty 
 he had taken, and he was profuse in his apologies; but Cashel soon 
 allayed this anxiety by adroitly turning to another part of the subject, 
 and saying, " If I look much older than I am, it is that I have travelled 
 and lived a good deal in southern climates, not to ^peak of other causes, 
 which give premature age." 
 
 A slight, a very slight touch of melancholy in the latter words gave 
 them a deep interest to the youth; who, with a boyish frankness — far 
 more fascinating than more finished courtesy — asked Roland if he would 
 join their party. Had such a request been made half an hour before, or 
 had it come in more formal fashion, Cashel would inevitably have de- 
 :clined it ; but what between the generous candour of the youth's address 
 and a desire to show that he did not resent his intrusion, Cashel acceded 
 good-naturedly, and took his seat amongst them. 
 
 As Roland listened to the joyous freshness of their boyish talk — the 
 high-hearted hope — the sanguine trustfulness with which they regarded 
 life — he remembered what but a few years back he had himself been. 
 He saw in them the self-same elements which .had led him on to every 
 calamity that he suffered — the passionate pursuit of pleasure — the inex- 
 haustible craving for excitement that makes life the feverish paroxysm of 
 a malady. 
 
 They sat to a late hour together; and when they separated the chance 
 acquaintance had ripened into intimacy. Night after night they met in 
 the same place; and while they were charmed with the gentle serious- 
 ness of one in whom they could recognise the most manly daring, he, on 
 his side, was fascinated by the confiding warmth and the generous fi:ank- 
 of their youth. 
 
ROLAND CABHEL. 587 
 
 One evening, as they assembled as usual, Roland remarked a some- 
 thing like unusual excitement amongst them ; and learned, that from 
 a letter they iiad received that morning they were about to leave Naples 
 the next day. There seemed some mystery in the reason, and a kind of 
 reserve in even alluding to it, which made Cashel half suspect that they 
 had been told who he was, and that a dislike to further intercourse had 
 suggested the departure. It was the feeling that never left him by 
 day or night — that dogged his waking and haunted his dreams — that 
 he was one to be shunned and avoided by his fellow-men. His pride, 
 long dormant, arose under the supposed slight, and he was about to say 
 n cold farewell, when the elder of the party, whose name was Sidney, 
 said, — 
 
 " How I wish you were coming with us !" 
 
 "Whither to?'* said Cashel, hurriedly. 
 
 " To Venice — say, is this possible?" 
 
 " I am free to turn my steps in any direction — too free — ^for I have 
 neither course to sail nor harbour to reach." 
 
 " Come with us then, Roland," cried they all, "and our journey will 
 be delightful." 
 
 " But why do you start so hurriedly ? What is there to draw yoa 
 from this at the very brightest season of the year ?" 
 
 " There is rather that which draws us to Venice," said Sidney, 
 colouring shghtly ; " but this is our secret ; and you shall not hear it 
 till we are on the way." 
 
 Roland's curiosity was not exacting ; he asked no more : nor was it 
 till they had proceeded some days on their journey that Sidney con- 
 fided to him the sudden cause of their journey, which he did in the few 
 words — 
 
 " La Ninetta is at Venice— she is at the ' Fenice.' " 
 
 " But who is La Ninetta ? You forget that you are speaking to 
 one who lives out of the world." 
 
 " Not know La Ninetta !" exclaimed he ; *' never have seen her?" 
 
 " Never even heard of her." 
 
 To the pause which the shock of the first astonishment imposed 
 there now succeeded a burst of enthusiastic description, in wliich the 
 three youths vied with each other who should be most eloquent in 
 praise. Her beauty, her gracefulness, the witching fascination of her 
 movements, the enchanting captivation of her smile, were themes they 
 never wearied of. Nor was it till he had suffered the enthusiasm 
 to take its course that they would listen to his calm question — 
 
 " Is she an actress ?" 
 
588 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " She is the first ' Ballarind' of the world," cried one. " None ever 
 did, nor ever will, dance like her." 
 
 " They say she is a Prima Donna, too ; but how could such excel- 
 lence be united in one creature ?" 
 
 To their wild transports of praise Roland listened patiently, in the 
 hope that he might glean something of her story ; but they knew no- 
 thing, except that she was reputed to be a Sicilian, of a noble family, 
 whose passion for the stage had excited the darkest enmity of her re- 
 latives ; insomuch, that it was said she was tracked from city to city by 
 hired assassins. She remained two days at Naples ; she appeared but 
 once at Rome ; in Genoa, although announced, she never came to 
 the theatre. Such were the extravagant tales, heightened by all the 
 colour of romantic adventure — how, at one time, she had escaped from 
 a royal palace by leaping into the sea— how, at another, she had ridden 
 through a squadron of the Swiss guard, sabre in hand, and got clear 
 away from Bologna, where a cardinal's letter had arrested her. Inci- 
 dents, the strangest, the least probable, were recounted of her : the 
 high proffers of marriage she had rejected — the alliances, even with 
 royal blood, she had refused. There was nothing, where her name 
 figured, that seemed impossible ; hers was a destiny above all the rules 
 that guide humbler mortals. 
 
 Excellence, of whatever kind it be, has always this attraction — that it 
 forms a standard by which men measure with each other their capacities 
 of enjoyment and their powers of appreciation. Roland's curiosity was 
 stimulated, therefore, to behold with his own eyes the wonder which 
 had excited these youthful heroics. He had long since ceased to be 
 sanguine on any subject ; and he felt that he could sustain disappoint- 
 ment on graver matters than this. 
 
 When they reached Venice, they found that city in a state of en- 
 thusiastic excitement fully equal to their own. All the excesses into 
 which admiration for art can carry a people, insensible to other emotions 
 than those which minister to the senses, had been committed to wel- 
 come " La Regina de la Balla." Her entree had been like a triumph; 
 garlands of flowers, bouquets, rich tapestries floating from balconies, 
 gondolas with bands of music ; the civic authorities even, in robes of 
 state, met her as she entered ; strangers flocked in crowds from the other 
 cities of the north, and even from parts beyond the Alps. The hotels 
 were crammed with visitors, all eager to see one of whom every tongue 
 was telling. A guard of honour stood before the palace in which she 
 resided ; as much a measure of necessity to repel the pressure of the 
 anxious crowd, as it was a mark of distinction. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 589 
 
 The epidemic character of enthusiasm is well known. It is a fervour 
 to which none can remain insensible. Cashel was soon to experience 
 this. How could he preserve a cold indifference to the emotions which 
 swayed thousands around him? How maintain his calm amid that host, 
 which surged and fretted like the sea in a storm? La Ninetta was 
 the one word repeated on every side : even to have seen her once was a 
 distinction; and they who had already felt her fascinations were listened 
 to as oracles. 
 
 She was to give but three representations at Venice, and ere Cashel's 
 party had arrived all the tickets were already disposed of. By un- 
 ceasing efforts, and considerable bribery, they contrived at last to obtain 
 places for the first niglit, and early in the forenoon were admitted among 
 a privileged number to take their seats. They who were thus, at a 
 heavy cost, permitted to anticipate the general public, seemed — at least 
 to Cashel's eyes — to fill the house ; and so, in the dim indistinctness, 
 they appeared. Wherever the eye turned, from the dark parterre, be- 
 low, to the highest boxes, above, seemed filled with people. There was 
 something almost solemn in that vast concourse, who sat subdued and 
 silent in the misty half light of the theatre. The intense anxiety of 
 expectation, the dreary gloom of the scene, contributed to spread a kind 
 of awe-struck influence around, and brought up to Roland's memory a 
 very different place and occasion — when, himself the observed of all 
 observers, he stood in the felons' dock. Lost in the gloomy reverie 
 these sad thoughts suggested, he took no note of time, nor marked the 
 lagging hours which stole heavily past. 
 
 Suddenly the full glare of light burst forth, and displayed the great 
 theatre crowded in every part. That glittering spectacle, into which 
 beauty, splendour of dress, jewels, and rich uniforms enter, broke upon 
 the sight, while a kind of magnetic sense of expectancy seemed to per- 
 vade all, and make conversation a mere murmur. The opera — a well- 
 known one of a favourite composer, and admirably sustained — attracted 
 little attention. The thrilling cadences, the brilliant passages, all fell 
 upon senses that had no relish for their excellence ; and even the con- 
 ventional good-breeding of the spectators was not proof against the 
 signs of impatience that every now and then were manifested. 
 
 The third act at last began, and the scene represented a Spanish 
 village of the New World, Avhich, had it been even less correct and true 
 to nature, had yet possessed no common attraction for Roland; recall- 
 ing, by a hundred little traits, a long-unvisited but well-remembered 
 land. The usual troops of villagers paraded about in all that mock 
 grace which characterises the peasant of the ballet. There were the 
 same active mountaineers, the same venerable fathers, the comely 
 
590 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 matrons with little baskets of nothing carefully covered by snowy nap- 
 kins, and the young maidens, who want only beauty to make them what 
 they affect to be. Roland gazed at all this with the indifference a 
 stupid prelude ever excites, and would rapidly have been wearied, when 
 a sudden pause in the music ensued, and then a deathlike stillness 
 reigned through the house. The orchestra again opened, and with a 
 melody which thrilled through every fibre of Roland's heart. It was a 
 favourite Mexican air; one to which, in happier times, he had often 
 danced. What myriads of old memories came flocking to his mind as 
 he listened ! What fancies came thronging around him ! Every bar 
 of the measure beat responsively mth some association of the past. 
 He leaned his head downwards, and, covering his face with his hands, 
 all thought of the present was lost, and in imagination he was back 
 again on the green sward before the "Villa de las Noches;" the mock- 
 ing-bird and the nightingale were filling the air with their warblings; 
 the sounds of gay voices, the plash of fountains, the meteor-like flashes 
 of the fire-flies, were all before him. He knew not that a thousand 
 voices were shouting around him in wildest enthusiasm — that bouquets 
 of rarest flowers strewed the stage — that eveiy form adulation can take 
 was assumed toward* one on whom every eye save his own was bent ; 
 and that, before her, rank, beauty, riches — all that the world makes its 
 idols — were now bending in deepest homage. He knew nothing of all 
 this, as he sat with bent-down head, lost in his own bright dreamings ; 
 at length he looked up, but, instead of his fancy being dissipated by 
 reality, it now assumed form and substance. There was the very 
 scenery of that far-off land ; the music was the national air of Mexico; 
 the dance was the haughty Manolo ; and oh ! was it that his brain was 
 wandering — had reason, ^aken by many a rude shock, given way at 
 last ? The dancer — she, on whose witching graces every glance was 
 bent— was Maritana! There she stood, more beautiful than he had 
 ever seen her before ; her dark hair encircled with brilliants, her black 
 eyes flashing in all the animation of triumph, and her fairly-rounded 
 limbs the perfection of symmetry. 
 
 Oh, no ; this was some mind-drawn picture ; this was the shadowy 
 image that failing intellect creates ere all is lost in chaos and confusion ! 
 Such was the conflict in his brain as, with staring eyeballs, he tracked 
 her as she moved, and followed each graceful bend, each proud com- 
 manding attitude. Nor was it till the loud thunder-roll of applause had 
 drawn her to the front of the stage, to acknowledge the favour by a 
 deep reverence, that he became assured beyond all question. Then, 
 when he saw the long dark lashes fall upon the rounded cheek, when he 
 beheld the crossed arm upon her bosom, and marked the taper fingers 
 
"i- . .« 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 591 
 
 he had so often held within his own, in a transport of feeling, where 
 pride and joy and shame and sorrow had each their share, he cried 
 aloud, — 
 
 " Oh, Maritana ! Maritana ! Shame ! shame !" 
 
 Scarcely had the wild ciy re-echoed through the house than, with a 
 scream, whose terror pierced every heart, the girl started from her 
 studied attitude, and rushed forward towards the foot- lights ; her 
 frighted looks and pale cheeks seeming ghastly with emotion. 
 
 " Where ? — where ?" cried she. " Speak again, — I know the voice !'* 
 But already a scene of uproar and confusion had arisen in the parterre 
 around Gashel, whose interruption of the piece called down universal 
 reprobartaon;: send, cries of " Out with him !" " Away with him !" rose on 
 every side. 
 
 Struggling madly and fiercely against his assailants, Cashel for a brief 
 space seemed likely to find his way to the stage ; but, overcome by 
 numbers, he was subdued at last, and consigned to the hands of the 
 guard. His last look, still turned to the " scene," showed him Maritana, 
 as she was carried away senseless and fainting. 
 
592 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIX. 
 
 The laughing Seine, whose midnight flood 
 
 Shrouds many a deed of crime and blood ! — Wakren. 
 
 They alone who have passed much of their lives on the Continent of 
 Europe can estimate the amount of excitement caused by such an in- 
 cident as that we have just related. So much of life is centered in the 
 theatre, so many interests revolve around it, engrossing, as it does, so 
 much of the passions and the prejudices of those whose existence seldom 
 rises above the pursuit of pleasure, that anything which might interrupt 
 " the scene," which should disturb its progress, or mar its effect, is sure 
 to evoke the loudest evidence of public indignation. Where a high 
 cultivation of the arts is employed to gloss over the corruptions of a 
 vicious system, it may be easily conceived how men would be judged 
 more leniently for crimes than for those minor offences which rebel 
 against the usages of good society. 
 
 The " Ballet interrupted in its most interesting moment," " La xSinetta 
 carried away fainting at the very commencement of her most attractive 
 movement," insulted — so it was rumoured — " by some offensive epithet 
 of a Spaniard," were enough to carry indignation to the highest pitch, 
 and it needed the protection of the guard to screen him from the popular 
 vengeance. 
 
 After a night of feverish anxiety, where hopes and fears warred and 
 conflicted with each other, Cashel was early on the following morning 
 conducted before the chief Commissary of the Police. His passport re- 
 presented him as a Spaniard, and he adhered to the pretended nationality 
 to avoid the dreaded notoriety of his name. 
 
 While he answered the usual questions as to age, religion, and pro- 
 fession, an oflficer deposited a sealed paper in the hands of the Prefetto ; 
 who, opening it, appeared to study the contents with much care. 
 
 " You have called yourself II Senor Roland da Castel, Sir ?" said the 
 official, staring fixedly upon him. " Have you always gone by this name ?" 
 
 " In Mexico and the New World I was ever known as such. In 
 England men call me Roland Cashel." 
 
 " Which is your more fitting appellation — is it not ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 *• You are then an English, and not a Spanish subject?" 
 
 He nodded assent. 
 
 " You were, however, In a South American service ?' said the Prefetto, 
 reading from his paper. 
 
 Roland bowed again. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 593 
 
 " In which service, or pretended service, you commanded a slaver ?" 
 
 ** This is untrue," said Cashel, calmly. 
 
 " I have it asserted here, however, by those of whose statements you 
 have already acknowledged the accuracy." 
 
 " It is not the less a falsehood." 
 
 " Perhaps you will allow more correctness to the next allegation ? It 
 is said that, under the pretended right to a large inheritance, you visited 
 England, and succeeded in preferring a claim to a vast estate ?'' 
 
 Roland bent his head in assent. 
 
 " And that to this property you possessed neither right nor title?" 
 
 Roland started : the charge involved a secret he believed unknown, 
 save to himself, Hammond, and Linton, and he could not master his 
 surprise enough to reply. 
 
 " But a weightier allegation is yet behind, Sir," said the Prefetto, 
 sternly. " Are you the same Roland Cashel whose trial for murder 
 occupied the assizes of Ennis in the spring of the year 18 — ?" 
 
 " I am," said Cashel, faintly. 
 
 " Your escape of conviction depended on the absence of a material 
 witness for the prosecution, I believe ?'' 
 
 " I was acquitted because I was not guilty, Sir." 
 
 " On that point we are not agreed," said the Prefetto sarcastically ; 
 " but you have admitted enough to warrant me in the course I shall 
 pursue respecting you — the fact of a false name and passport, the 
 identity with a well-known character admitted — I have now to detain 
 you in custody until such time as the Consul of your country may take 
 steps for your conveyance to England, where already new evidence of 
 your criminality awaits you. Yes, prisoner, the mystery which involved 
 your guilt is at length about to be dissipated, and the day of expiation 
 draws nigh." 
 
 Roland did not speak. Shame at the degraded position he occupied, 
 even in the eyes of those with whom he had associated, overwhelmed 
 him, and he suffered himself to be led away without a word. 
 
 Alone in the darkness and silence of a prison, he sat indifferent to 
 what might befall him, wearied of himself and all the world. 
 
 Days, even weeks passed on, and none inquired after him ; he seemed 
 forgotten of all, when the Consul, who had been absent, having returned, 
 it was discovered that the allegations respecting the murder were not 
 sufficient to warrant his being transmitted to England, and that the 
 only charge against him lay in the assumed nationality — an offence it was 
 deemed sufficiently expiated by his imprisonment. He was free then once 
 more — free to wander forth into the world where his notoriety had been 
 already proclaimed, and where, if not his guilt, his shame was published. 
 
 2 Q 
 
594 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 Of Maritana all that he could learn was that she had left Venice 
 without again appearing in public ; but in what direction none knew 
 accurately. Cashel justly surmised that she had not gone without seeing 
 him once more, had it not been from the compulsion of others ; and if he 
 grieved to think they were never to meet more, he felt a secret consolation 
 on reflecting how much of mutual shame and sorrow was spared them. 
 Shame was indeed the predominant emotion of his mind ; shame for 
 his now sullied name — his character tarnished by the allegations of 
 crime ; and shame for her, degraded to a " Ballarina." 
 
 Had Fortune another reverse in store for him ? Was there one 
 cherished hope still remaining ? Had life one solitary spot to which he 
 could now direct his weary steps, and be at rest ? The publicity which late 
 events had given to his name, rendered him more timid and retiring than 
 ever. A morbid sense of modesty — a shrinking dread of the slights to 
 which he would be exposed in the world — made him shun all intercourse 
 and live a Hfe of utter seclusion. 
 
 Like all men who desire solitude, he soon discovered that it is alone 
 attainable in great cities. Where the great human tide runs full and 
 strong, the scattered wrecks are scarcely noticeable. 
 
 To Paris, therefore, he repaired ; not to that brilliant Paris where 
 sensuality and vice costume themselves in all the brilhant hues derived 
 from the highest intellectual culture, but to the dark and gloomy Paris 
 which lies between the arms of the Seine, the " He St. Louis." 
 There, amid the vestiges of an extinct feudalism, and the trials of a 
 present wretchedness, he passed his life in strict sohtude. In a mean 
 apartment; whose only solace was the view of the river, with a few 
 books picked up on a neighbouring stall, and the moving crowd beneath 
 his window to attract his wandering thoughts, he lived his lonely life. 
 The past alone occupied his mind : for the future he had neither care nor 
 interest, but of his by-gone life he could dream for hours. These 
 memories he used to indulge each evening in a particular spot ; it was 
 an old and ruinous stair which descended to the river, from a little wooden 
 platform, near where he lived. It had been long disused, and suffered 
 to fall into rot and decay. Here, he sat, each night, watching the 
 twinkhng lights that glittered along the river, and listening to the 
 distant hum of that great hive of pleasure that lay beyond it. 
 
 That the neighbourhood about was one of evU repute and danger, 
 mattered little to one who set small store by his life, and whose stalwart 
 figure and signs of personal prowess were not unknown in the quarter. 
 The unbroken solitude of the spot was its attraction to liim, and truly 
 none ever ventured near it after nightfall. 
 
 There he was sitting one night, as usual, musing, as was his wont. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 595 
 
 It was a period when men's minds were stirred by the expectation of 
 some great but unknown event : a long political stagnation — the dead 
 sea of hopeless apathy — was beginning to be ruffled by short and fitful 
 blasts, that told of a coming hurricane. Vague rumours of a change — 
 scattered sentences of some convulsion, whence proceeding, or whither 
 tending, none could guess — were abroad. The long-sleeping terrors of 
 a past time of blood were once more remembered, and men talked of 
 the guillotine and the scaffbld as household themes. It was the summer 
 of 1830 — that memorable year, whose deeds were to form but the 
 prologue of the great drama we are to-day the spectators at. Roland 
 heard these things, as he who wanders along the shore at night may 
 hear the brooding signs of a gathering storm, but has no "venture on 
 the sea." He thought of them — with a certain interest, too — but it 
 was with that interest into whicb no personal feeling enters ; for how 
 could great convulsions of states aff'ect him? How could the turn of 
 fortune raise or depress him ? 
 
 He sat, now pondering over his own destiny, now wondering whither 
 the course of events to come was tending, when he heard the plash of 
 oars, and the rushing sound of a boat moving through the water in the 
 direction of the stair. The oars, which at some moments were plied 
 vigorously, ceased to move at others ; and, as well as Cashel could mark, 
 the course of the boat seemed once or twice to be changed. Roland 
 descended to the lowest step of the ladder, the better to see what this 
 might portend. That terrible river, on whose smiling eddies the noon- 
 day sun dances so joyously, covers beneath the shadow of night crimes 
 the most awful and appalling. 
 
 As Cashel listened, he perceived that the rowing had ceased, and two 
 voices, whose accents sounded like altercation, could be heard. 
 
 The boat, drifting, meanwhile, downward on the fast current, was now 
 nearly opposite to where he sat, but only perceptible as a dark speck 
 upon the water. The night was calm, without a breath of wind, and on 
 the vapour-charged atmosphere sounds floated dull and heavily ; still 
 Cashel could hear the harsh tones of men in angry dispute, and to his 
 amazement they spoke in English. 
 
 " It's the old story," cried one, whose louder voice and coarser accents 
 bespoke him the inferior in condition, — " the old story that I'm sick of 
 listening to — when you have luck ! when you have luck !" 
 
 " I used not to have a complaint against Fortune," said the other. 
 '* Before we met, she had treated me well for many a year." 
 
 *' And 'twas me that changed it, I suppose," said the first, in the same 
 insolent tone as before : " do you mean that?" 
 
 " The world has gone ill with me since that day." 
 
 2 Q 2 
 
596 KOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 « And whose fault is that?" 
 
 " Partly yours," said the other, in a slow deliberate voice, every syl- 
 lable of which thrilled through Cashel's heart as he listened. " Had you 
 secured the right man, it was beyond the power of Fortune to hurt either 
 of us. That fatal, fatal mistake !" 
 
 ."How could I help it ?" cried the other, energetically; "the night 
 was-as dark as this — it was between two high banks — there was nothing 
 to be seen but a figure of a man coming slowly along — you yourself 
 told me who it would be — I didn't wait for more ; and troth !" — here he 
 gave a fiendish laugh — " troth ! you'll allow the work was well done." 
 
 " It was a most determined murder," said the other, thoughtfull3% 
 
 "Murder! murder!" screamed the first, in a voice of fierce passion; 
 *' and is it you that calls it a murder?" 
 
 " No matter how it is called. Let us speak of something else." 
 
 " Very well. Let us talk about the price of it. It isn't paid yet!" 
 
 " Is it nothing that I have taken you from abject, starving misery, from 
 a life of cold, want, and wretchedness, to live at ease in the first City of 
 the universe? Is it no part of the price that you spend your days in 
 pleasure and your nights in debauch? — that, with the appetite of the 
 peasant you partake of the excesses of the gentleman? Is it no instal- 
 ment of the debt, I say, that you, who might now be ground down to the 
 very earth as a slave at home, dare to lift your head and speak thus 
 to mef^ /iwe/!9iq to jfiio- ■ 
 
 "And is it you dares to tell me this!" cried the other, in savage 
 energy; '* is it you, that made me a murderer, and then think that I 
 can forget it because I'm a drunkard? But I don't forget it ! I'll never 
 forget it! I see him still, as he lay gasping before me, and trying to 
 beg for mercy when he couldn't ask for it. I see him every day when 
 I'm in a lonely place ; and, oh ! he's never away from me at night, with 
 his bloody hands on his head trying to save it, and screaming out for 
 God to help him. And what did I get for it ? answer me that," yelled 
 he, in accents shrill with passion. " Is it my wife begging from door to 
 door — is it my children naked and hungry — is it my little place, a ruin 
 and a ciu-se over it — or it is myself trying to forget it in drink, not know- 
 ing the day nor the hour that it will rise up against me, and that I'll be 
 standing in the dock where I saw him that you tried to murder too?" 
 
 " There is no use in all this passion," said the other, calmly ; "let us 
 be friends, Tom: it is our interest to be so." 
 
 *' Them's the very words you towld Mr. PhilHs, and the next day he 
 was taken up for the robbery and you had him transported." 
 
 " Phillis was a fool, and paid the penalty of a fool ; but you are a 
 shrewd fellow, who can see to his own advantage. Now listen to me 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 597 
 
 calmly : were It not for bad luck, we might all of us have had more money 
 now than we could count or squander. Had Maritafia continued upon the 
 stage, her gains would by this time have been enormous. The bank, 
 too, would have prospered ; her beauty would have drawn around us 
 all that was wealthy and dissipated in the world of fashion ; we could 
 have played what stake we pleased. Princes, ambassadors, ministers of 
 state, would have been our game. Curses be on his head who spoiled 
 this glorious plan ! From that unhappy night at Venice she never would 
 appear again, nor could she. The shock has been like a blight upon her. 
 You have seen her yourself, and know what it has made her." 
 
 The artifice by which the speaker contrived to change the topic, and 
 withdraw the other from a painful subject to one of seeming confidence, 
 was completely successful ; and in the altered tone of voice might be 
 read the change which had come over him. 
 
 " You wish to go to America, Tom ?" continued he, after a pause. 
 
 ^* Aye; I never feel safe here. I'm too near home." 
 
 " Well, if everything prospers with us, you shall have the money by 
 Tuesday — Wednesday at farthest. Rica has at last found a clue to old 
 Corrigan, and, although he seems in great poverty, his name upon a bill 
 will still raise some hundreds." 
 
 " I don't care who pays it, but I must get it," said the other, whose 
 savage mood seemed to have returned. " I'll not stay here. 'Tis little 
 profit or pleasure I have, standin' every night to see the crowds that 
 are passing in, to be cheated out of their money — to hear the clink of 
 the goold I'm never to handle — and to watch all the fine livin' and 
 coortin' that I've no share in." 
 
 "Be satisfied. You shall have the money; I pledge my word 
 upon it." 
 
 " I don't care for your word. I have a better security than ever 
 it was." 
 
 " And what may that be ?'' said the other, cautiously. 
 
 " Your neck in a halter, Mr. Linton," said he, laughing ironically. 
 " Ay, ye don't understand me — poor innocent that ye are ! but I 
 know what I'm saying, and I have good advice about it besides." 
 
 " How do you mean good advice, Tom ?" said Linton, with seeming 
 kindliness of manner. " Whom have you consulted?" 
 
 *• One that knows the law well," said Tom, with all the evasive 
 shrewdness of his class. 
 
 " And he tells you — " 
 
 " He tells me that the devil a bit betther off you'd be than m yself— • 
 that you are what they call an ' accessory' — that's the word ; I mind 
 it well." 
 
598 EOLAND- GASHEL. 
 
 " And what. does that: mean?" 
 
 " A chap tiiat plans the: work, but? hasn't the courage to put hand 
 to it." 
 
 "That's an accessory, is it?." said the other,. slawly. 
 
 " Just so." He paused for a few seconds, then, added, " Besides, if I 
 was to turn 'prover, he says that 1 'd only be transported, and 'tis yau 
 would be hanged" — the last word was uttered, in a harsh and. grating 
 tone, and followed by a laugh of insolent mockery — " so that you see 
 'tis better be honest with me, and pay me my hire." 
 
 " You shall have it, by G — !" said Linton,, with a deep vehemence; 
 and drawing a pisto! from his bosom he fired. The other fell, with a 
 loud cry, to the bottom of the boat. A brief pause ensued, and then 
 Linton raised the body in his arms to throw it over. A faint struggle 
 showed that life was not extinct, but all resistance was impossible. The 
 lightness of the boat, however, made the effort difficult;, and it was 
 only by immense exeition that he could even lift the heavy weight 
 half way; and at last, when, by a great eflPort, he succeeded in laying 
 the body over the gunwale, the boat lost its balance, and upset. With 
 a bold springs Linton dashed into the current, and made for shore; but 
 almost as he did so, another and a stronger swimm^, who had thrown 
 o£Fhis clothes for the enterprise, had reached the spot, and, grasping 
 the inert mass as it was about to sink,, swam with the bleeding body to 
 the bank. 
 
 When Cashel gained the stairs, he threw the wounded man upon his 
 shoulder^, for signs of Ufewere still remaining^ and hastened to a cabaret 
 near. A surgeon was soon procured, and the bullet was discovered to 
 have penetrated the chest,, cutting in its passage some lai*ge blood- 
 vessel, from which the blood flowed copiously. That the result must 
 be fatal it was evident ; but as the bleeding showed signs of abate- 
 ment, it seemed possible life might be protracted some hours. No time 
 was therefore to be lost in obtaining- the dying man's declaration, and 
 a Juge d'Instruction, accompanied by a notary, was immediately on the 
 spot. As the surgeon had surmised, a coagulum had formed in the 
 wounded vessel, and, the bleeding being thus temporarily arrested, the 
 man rallied into something like strength,, and with a mind perfectly 
 conscious and colleetedi To avoid the shock which the sigiit of 
 Ga^el might occasion, Roland did not appear at the bed-side. 
 
 Nor need we linger either at such a scene, nor witness that fearftil 
 struggle between the hope of mercy and the dread consciousness of its 
 all but impossibility. The dying confession has nothing new for the 
 readei ; the secret history of the crime is already before him, and it 
 only rt mains to speak of those events which followed Keane's flight from 
 Ireland. As Linton's servant he continued for years to travel about the 
 
BOLAITD CASHEL. 598 
 
 continent, constantly sustained by the hope that ^e price of his crime 
 ■would one day be forthcoming, and as invariably put off by the excuse 
 that play,, on which he entirely depended for means, had been unlucky, 
 but that better times were certainly in store for him. The struggles 
 and difficulties of an existence thus maintained ; the terrible conscious- 
 ness of an unexpiated. crime ; the constant presence of one who knew 
 the secret of the. other, and might at any moment of anger, or in some 
 access of dissipation, reveal it, made up a life of torture to which death 
 would be a boon ; added to this,, that they frequently found themselves 
 in the same city with Cashel, whom Linton never dared to confront. 
 At Messina they fell in witk Rica, as the proprietor of a gaming-table 
 which Linton continually frequented. His consummate skill at play; 
 his knowledge of life, and particulai'ly the hfe of gamblers ; his powers 
 of agreeability, soon attracted Rica's notice, and an intimacy sprang up 
 which became a close friendship — if such a league can be called by such 
 a name. 
 
 By the power of an ascendancy acquired most artfully, and by per- 
 suasive flatteries of the most insidious kind, he induced Rica to bring 
 Maritana on the stage ; where her immense success had replenished their 
 coffers far more rapidly and abundantly than play. At Naples, how- 
 ever, an incident similar to what happened at Venice was nigh having 
 occurred. She was recognised by a young Spaniard who had knowa 
 her in Mexico ; and as the whole assumed history of her noble birth and 
 Sicilian origin was thus exposed to contradiction, they took measures, 
 to get rid of this unwelcome witness. They managed to hide among 
 his- effects some dies and moulds for coining — an offence then, as ever, 
 rife at Naples. A police investigation, in which bribery had its shares 
 was followed by a mock trial, and the young fellow was sentenced to the 
 galleys for seven years, with hard labour. 
 
 TJieir career from this moment was one of unchanging success. 
 Maritana's beauty attracted to the play-table all that every city con- 
 tained of fashion, wealth, and dissipation. Li her ignorance of the 
 world she was made to believe that her position was one the most exalted 
 and enviable. The homage she received, the devotion exhibited on 
 every side, the splendour of her life, her dress, her jewels, her liveries, 
 dazzled and delighted, her. The very exercise of her abilities was a 
 source of enthusiastic pleasure to one who loved admiration. Nor had 
 she, perhaps, awoke from this delusion,, had not the heart-uttered cry of 
 Roland burst the spell that bound her, and evoked the maiden's shame 
 in her young heart. Then — with a revulsion that almost shook reason 
 itself — she turned with abhorrence from a career associated with what- 
 ever could humiliate and disgrace. Entreaties, prayers, menaces — 
 all were unavailing to induce her to appear again ; and soon,, indeed, her 
 
600 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 altered looks and failing health rendered it impossible. A vacant 
 unmeaning smile, or a cold impassive stare, usurped the place of an 
 expression that used to shine in joyous brilliancy. Her step, once 
 bounding and elastic, became slow and uncertain. She seldom spoke ; 
 when she did, her accents were heavy, and her thoughts seemed languid, 
 as though her mind was weary. None could have recognised in that 
 wan and worn face, that frail and delicate figure, the proud and beautiful 
 Maritafia. 
 
 She lived now in total seclusion. None ever saw her, save Rica, who 
 used to come and sit beside her each day, watching, with Heaven alone 
 knows what mixture of emotion ! that wasting form and decaying cheek. 
 What visions of ambition Linton might yet connect with her none knew 
 or could guess ; but he followed the changing fortunes of her health 
 with an interest too deep and earnest to be mistaken for mere com- 
 passion. Such, then, was her sad condition when they repaired to 
 Paris, and, in one of the most spacious hotels of the Rue Richelieu, 
 established their "Bank of Rouge etNoir." This costly establishment 
 vied in luxury and splendour with the most extravagant of those existing 
 in the time of the Empire. All that fastidious refinement and taste 
 could assemble, in objects of art and vertu, graced the salons. The 
 cookery, the wines, the service of the different menials, rivalled the 
 proudest households of the nobility. 
 
 A difficult etiquette restricted the a^^mission to persons of acknow- 
 ledged rank and station, and even these were banded together by the 
 secret tie of a political purpose, for it was now the eve of that great 
 convulsion which was to open once more in Europe the dread conflict 
 between the masses and the few. 
 
 While Linton engaged deep in play, and still deeper in politics, 
 "making his book," as he called it, "to win with whatever horse he 
 pleased," one dreadful heartsore never left him : this was Keane, whose 
 presence continually reminded him of the past, and brought up besides 
 many a dread for the future. 
 
 It would have been easy at any moment for Linton to have disem- 
 barrassed himself of the man by a sum of money ; but then came the 
 reflection " What is to happen when, with exhausted means and dissolute 
 habits, this fellow shall find himself in some foreign country? Is he 
 not likely, in a moment of reckless despair, to reveal the whole story of 
 our guilt? can I even trust him in hours of convivial abandonment and 
 debauch? Vengeance may, at any instant, overrule in such a nature the 
 love of life — remorse may seize upon him. He is a Romanist, and may 
 confess the murder, and be moved by his priest to bring home the guilt to 
 the Protestant." Such were the motives which Linton never ceased to 
 speculate on and think over, always reverting to the one same convic- 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 601 
 
 tion, that he must keep the man close to his person, until the hour might 
 come when he could rid himself of him for ever. 
 
 The insolent demeanour of the fellow — his ruffian assurance — the 
 evidence of a power that he might wield at will — became at last into- 
 lerable. Linton saw this " shadow on his path" wherever he wandered. 
 The evil was insupportable from the very fact that it occupied his 
 thoughts when great and momentous events required them. It was 
 like the paroxysm of some painful disease, that came at moments when 
 health and calm of spirit were most wanted. To feel this, to recog- 
 nise it thoroughly, and to resolve to overcome it, were, with Linton, the 
 work of a moment. " His hour is come," said he at length ; "the com- 
 pany at La Morgue to-morrow shall be graced by a guest of my in- 
 viting." 
 
 Although to a mind prolific in schemes of villany the manner of the 
 crime could offer no difficulty, strange enough, his nature revolted 
 against being himself the agent of the guilt. It was not fear, for he 
 was a man of nerve and courage, and was besides certain to be better 
 armed than his adversary. It was not pity, nor any feeling that bor- 
 dered on pity, deterred him; it was some instinctive shrinking from an 
 act of ruffianism ; it was the blood of a man of birth that curdled at 
 the thought of that which his mind associated with criminals of the lowest 
 class — the conventional feeling of Honour surpassing all the dictates of 
 common Humanity ! 
 
 Nothing short of the pressing emergency of the hour could have 
 overcome these scruples, but Keane's insolence was now in itself enough 
 to compromise him, and Linton saw that but one remedy remained, and 
 that it could not be deferred. Constant habits of intercourse with men 
 of a dangerous class in the Fauxbourgs and the Cite gave the excuse 
 for the boating excursion at night. The skiff was hired by Keane him- 
 self, who took up Linton at a point remote from where he started, and 
 thus, no clue could be traced to the person who accompanied him. The 
 remainder is in the reader's memory, and now we pursue our story. 
 
 The surgeon who examined Keane's wound not only pronounced it 
 inevitably fatal, but that the result must rapidly ensue. No time was, 
 therefore, to be lost in obtaining the fullest revelations of the dying 
 man, and also in taking the promptest measures to secure the guilty 
 party. 
 
 The authorities of the British embassy lent a willing aid to Cashel in 
 this matter, and an express was at once despatched to London for the 
 assistance of a police force, with the necessary warrant for Linton's 
 arrest. Meanwhile Keane was watched with the narrowest vigilance, 
 and so secretly was everything done, that his very existence was un- 
 known beyond the precincts of the room he inhabited. 
 
602 mau^ay^ gassel. 
 
 GHAPTER LXX^. 
 
 Vice has its own ambitions. 
 
 MOBTON. 
 
 It was^ already High daybreak The "Bank" had' long since been closed, 
 and none remained of Rica's guests- save the most inveterate gamblers, 
 who were now assembled in a small room in a secret part of the esta- 
 blishment, presided over by the host himself. 
 
 The persons here met were no bad representatives of the "play 
 world" of which they formed an important part. They were men, many 
 of them of the highest rank, who had no odier object or pursuit in life 
 than play ! Mingling to a certain extent in public life, they performed 
 before the world their various parts as soldiers, statesmen, courtiers, or 
 ambassadors. Their thoughts- meanwhile travelled but one solitary track. 
 The only field in which their ambition ranged was tiie green cloth of 
 the rouge-et-noir table. Ae^ soldiers they would have lost a battle with 
 more fortitude than as gamblers they would lose a- bet; As statesmen 
 they would have risked the fate of a kingdom to secure a good* " mar- 
 tingale" at play. Men of highest breeding, in society, abounding in all 
 die graces that adorn intercourse; here, they were taciturn, reserved, 
 almost morose, never suffering their attention to wander for an instant 
 from tiiat engrossing theme where gain and loss contended. 
 
 Into this society, noiseless and still as stifled feelings and repressed 
 emotions- could, make it, Linton entered ; a full dress replacing the 
 clotJies^ he so lately wore, not a trace of unusual agitation on his features, 
 he seemed in every respect the easy man of fashion, for which the worid 
 took him; 
 
 A slight nod — a familiar motion of the hand — were all the greetings 
 which passed between him and such of his acquaintances as deigned to 
 raise their heads from the game.. Linton perceived at once that the 
 play was high, nor did' he need to cast a look at the mountain of gold, 
 the coinage of every European nation, to know that the '< Bank." was a 
 winner. The chief player was a young noble of the king's household, 
 the Duke de Marsa^, a man of originally immense fortune, the greater 
 part of which he had already squandered at play. His full dress of the 
 Gourt, for he had dinedithe day before at the royal table, contrasted 
 strangely with the haggard expression of his features; while his powdered 
 hair, hung in stray and dishevselled masses over his- temples — even his 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 60B 
 
 deep lace ruffles, which in his agitation he had torn to very rags, all 
 hespoke the abandonment of the loser.. Linton^ who always passed for 
 a mere frequenter of the house, unconnected with its interests in any 
 way, saw at a glance that a perfectly quiet demeanour was imperatively 
 necessary; that not a word should be uttered, not a syllable let fall, 
 which should break the spell of that enchantment that was luring on the 
 gambler to his ruin. 
 
 No man was more master of the hundred little artifices by which the 
 spectator — "the gallerj^" is the play phrase — can arouse the hopes and 
 stimulate the expectations of the losing player. He knew to perfection 
 when to back the unlucky gambler, and how to throw out those half- 
 muttered words of encouragement so dear and precious to the loser's heart. 
 But if he knew all this well, he also knew that there are times when these 
 interferences become impertinent, and when the intense excitement of 
 the game will not admit of the distraction of sympathy. Linton there- 
 fore was silent ; he took his seat behind the chair of one of his intimates, 
 and watched the table attentively. 
 
 At the close of a game wherein fortune vacillated for a long time, 
 the Duke lost above a hundred thousand francs — a kind of pause, like a 
 truce, seemed to intervene, and Rica sat with the cards before him, noi; 
 making preparations for a new deal. 
 
 ** Fortune is too decidedly your enemy this evening, my Lord Duke ; 
 I am really ashamed to see you lose thus continuously." 
 
 " There is a certain Chateau de MarHer which belongs to me near 
 St. Germain," said the Duke. " It has been valued, with its grounds^ 
 at upwards of seven hundred thousand francs; are you disposed to 
 advance so much upon it?" 
 
 " As loan or purchase ?" asked Rica. 
 
 "Whichever you prefer. If the choice were mine, I should aay as 
 a loan." 
 
 " Parbleu ! it is a beautiful' spot," said one of the players* " It was 
 formerly a hunting seat of Louis XIV." 
 
 " You are quite correct. Sir," said the Duke. " It was a present 
 from that monarch to my grandfather; and possesses, amongst its other 
 advantages, the privilege of giving the owner a ducal coronet. If any 
 man be weak enough in these days to care for the distinction, he can be 
 Duke de Marlier on easy terms." 
 
 "Take him," whispered Linton in Rica's ear : "I accept the venture 
 as my own." 
 
 " Were I to accept this offer,' my Lord Duke^" said Rica, " am I to 
 understand that no mortgages nor charges of any kind are in existence 
 against this property?" 
 
604 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 " It is perfectly unencumbered," said the Duke, calmly. " There are 
 some half-dozen pictures— a Velasquez or two, amongst them — which I 
 should reserve as my own, but everything else would belong to the 
 purchaser." 
 
 '' The cost of transferring property in France is considerable, I believe, 
 and there is some diflBculty respecting the right of foreigners to 
 inherit," said Rica, again. 
 
 "Take him, I say — the risk is mine," whispered Linton, whose impa- 
 tience at the other's caution became each moment stronger. 
 
 " Do you accept. Monsieur de Rica ?" said the Duke, pushing back his 
 chair from the table, as though about to rise, " or is there to be, an ayiiiis- 
 tice for the present ?" ^,f 'jto aoLi . . 
 
 " It would be ungenerous, my Lord Duke, to refuse you anything in 
 my power to grant," said Rica, obsequiously. " As a high-spirited but 
 unfortunate player — " 
 
 " Let not this weigh with you. Sir," said the Duke, proudly; " the 
 chances are that I leave my estate behind me on this table. That, is 
 the only consideration for you to entertain." 
 
 "Take him at once; it will be too late, soon," whispered Linton 
 again. s^isl -xf IHw f^oilcHi 
 
 " I agree, my Lord," said Rica, with a slight sigh, as if yielding in 
 opposition to his inclination. "When is the money to be forth- 
 coming ?" 
 
 " Now, Sir. Here, upon this spot ; here, where, before I rise, I am 
 determined to have ray revenge." 
 
 " The bank always closes at daybreak,'' said Rica, gravely. 
 
 " Upon this occasion it will not," said the Duke, with an air of com- 
 mand. 
 
 " Be it so, my Lord Duke ; you shall have everything as you wish it. 
 I only call these gentlemen to witness that this proceeding is contrary to 
 my desire, and must form no precedent for the future." 
 
 " Few will be found to ask for such concession," said the Duke, 
 tartly. " Let us have no more trifling, but begin." 
 
 " I back the Duke," said Linton opening his pocket-book, and taking 
 out a roll of bank-notes. " Whatever I have touched to-night has 
 gone luckily with me, and I am sure to bring him good fortune." 
 
 " If I might ask a favor. Monsieur," said the Duke, " it would be 
 to leave me to deal single-handed with my destiny." 
 
 " As you please, my Lord," said Linton, gaily. " If you will not ac- 
 cept me as ally, you must have me as adversary. Charley, make room 
 for me beside you," continued he, addressing a man whose haggard 
 cheek and deep sunken eye could scarcely recall the features of Lord 
 Charles Frobisher. 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 605 
 
 " He's in for it," muttered Frobisher, as Linton seated himself at his 
 side. 
 
 " \V^e shall see," said Linton, calmly, arranging his note-book before 
 him. Meanwhile, Rica was busily engaged in counting out to the Duke 
 the heavy sum of the purchase. This occupied a considerable time, 
 during which Linton amused the others with a running fire of that gos- 
 sipry which goes the round of Parisian society, and takes in the world 
 of politics, of literature, of art, and of morals. The eventful period was 
 full of rumours, and none knew better than Linton how to exalt some 
 into certainty and degrade others into mere absurdity. " If the bank 
 wins," said he, laughingly, at the close of some observation on the con- 
 dition of parties, *' our friend Rica will be the last duke in Europe." 
 
 " Bah !" said an officer of the Royal Guard ; " grape and canister are 
 just as effectual as ever they were. There is nothing to be apprehended 
 from the mob. Two battalions of infantry and a squadron of hussars 
 will carry the ' ordinances,' if the ministry but give the order." 
 
 " I wish they would begin the game," said Frobisher, querulously, for 
 he took no interest in any topic but that of play. 
 
 " Has any one given orders that the doors should be close barred and 
 locked ?■' said another. '* The police will be here presently." 
 
 " What should bring the police here, Sir?" said Linton, turning sud- 
 denly towards the speaker with a look of almost insolent defiance. 
 
 " They are making perquisitions everywhere the last few days," said 
 the youth, abashed by the touQ and manner of the question. 
 
 " Ah ! so they are — very true. I beg your pardon," cried Linton, 
 affecting a smile. " We are so intent upon our game here, that one ac- 
 tually forgets what is occurring in the greater game that is playing 
 without." 
 
 " If there's to be no more play I'm off to bed," yawned Frobisher, 
 as he stretched himself along the chairs. A group had meanwhile 
 gathered round a table where refreshments and wine were laid out, 
 and were invigorating themselves for the coming campaign. 
 
 " I remember the last seance with closed doors I assisted at," said a 
 handsome middle-aged man, with a grey moustache, and short-cut grey 
 hair, " was in the stable at Fontainebleau. We played for seventeen 
 hours, and when we separated we discovered that the Empire was at an 
 end, and the Emperor departed !" 
 
 " We might do something of the same kind now, Blancharde," said 
 another; "it would be no difficult matter, I fancy, to play an old Dynasty 
 out and a new one in, at this moment." 
 
 " Hush, Rozlan ! Marsac is not one ' of us,' " whispered the former, 
 cautiously. " He's going the shortest way to become so, notwithstand- 
 
606 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 ing. Nothing enlarges the sphere of political vision like being ruined ! 
 One always becomes liberal, in the political sense, when it is impossible 
 to be «o in any other !" 
 
 The chatting now turned on the events that were then impending, a 
 great diversity of opinion existing as to whether the King would insist 
 upon carrying the " ordinances," and a still wider divergence as to what 
 result would follow. During this discussion, Frobisher's impatience 
 went beyond all control, and at last he arose, declaring that he would re- 
 main no longer. 
 
 *' You forget that the doors are locked for twenty-four hours, 8ir," said 
 another, " and neither can any one leave or enter the room before that 
 time." 
 
 " We are more sacred than a privy council or a chapter of the knights 
 of St. Louis," said Rozlan. 
 
 "Now then to see who is the next Due de Marlier!" whispered 
 Linton in Rica's ear. " Let us begin." 
 
 " One word with you, Linton," whispered Rica ; '* don't bet high, it 
 distracts my attention — make a mere game of amusement, for this vyill 
 be a hard struggle, and it must be the last." 
 
 " So I perceive," rejoined Linton; " events are coming fast ; we must 
 be off ere the tide overtake us." 
 
 "The game, the game !" cried Frobisher, striking the table with his 
 rake. 
 
 " And Maritana ?" whispered Linton, holding Rica by the arm. 
 
 The other grew lividly pale, and his lip quivered as he said, " Is this 
 the time, Linton — " 
 
 "It is the very time," rejoined the other, determinedly; "and I will 
 have my answer now. You cannot equivocate with me." 
 
 " I do not seek to do so. I have told you always what I tell you 
 still — I cannot coerce her." 
 
 " There will be no need. This dukedom will do the business. I 
 know her well — better than you do. See, they are watching us yonder. 
 Say the word at once — it is agreed." 
 
 " Hear me, Linton — " 
 
 " I'll hear nothing; save the one word, ' agreed.' " 
 
 " Let me but explain — " 
 
 " There is nothing to explain. The betrothal you allude to is — as 
 none knows better than yourself — an idle ceremony ; and if she loves 
 the fellow, so much the more urgent are the reasons for my request. 
 Be quick, I say." 
 
 " If she consent — " 
 
 " She shall. My Lord Duke, a thousand pardons, I beg, for this 
 
BOLAND CASHEL. 607 
 
 delay ; but Rica has been tormenting me these ten minutes by the re- 
 fusal of a petty favour. He is become reasonable at last ; and now for 
 the combat !" 
 
 The party seated themselves like men about to witness an exciting 
 event ; and, although each had his venture on the game, the Duke was 
 the great object of interest, and speculation was high as to how the 
 struggle was to end. 
 
 It is no part of our object to follow the changing fortunes of that 
 long contest, nor watch the vacillating chances which, alternately elevated 
 to hope and lowered to very desperation. Before the day began to de- 
 cline, every player, save the Duke, had ceased to bet. Some, worn 
 out and exhausted, had sunk to sleep upon the rich ottomans; others, 
 drinking deep of champagne, seemed anxious to forget everything. 
 Frobisher, utterly ruined, sat in the same place at the table, mechani- 
 cally marking the game, on which he had no longer a stake, and 
 muttering exclamations of joy or disappointment at imaginary gains and 
 losses, for he still fancied that he was betting large sums, and par- 
 ticipating in all the varying emotions of a gambler's life. 
 
 The luck of the bank continued. Play how he would, boldly " back 
 the colour," or try to suit the fitful fortunes of the game, the Duke 
 went on losing. 
 
 Were such an ordeal one to evoke admiration, it could scarcely be 
 withheld from him, who, with an unwearied brain and unbroken temper, 
 sat patiently there, fighting foot to foot, contesting every inch of 
 ground, and, even in defeat, preserving the calm equanimity of his high 
 breeding. Behind his chair stood Linton — a flush of triumph on his 
 cheek as he continued to behold the undeviating course of luck that 
 attended the bank. "Another deal like that," muttered he, "and I 
 shall quarter the arms of Marlier with Linton." 
 
 The words were scarcely uttered, when a deep sigh broke from the 
 Duke — it was the first that had escaped him — and he buried his head 
 between his hands. Rica looked over at Linton, and a slight, almost 
 imperceptible, motion of his eyebrows signalled that the battle was 
 nigh over. 
 
 " Well ! how is the game ? Am I betting ? — what's the colour ?" 
 said the Duke, passing his clammy hand across his brow. 
 
 " I am waiting for you, my Lord Duke," said Rica, obsequiously. 
 
 " I'm ready — quite ready," cried the other. " Am I the only player? 
 I fancied that some others were betting. Where's my Lord Charles? 
 — ah ! I see him. And Mr. Linton — is he gone ?" 
 
 " He has just left the room, my Lord Duke. Will you excuse me 
 
608 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 if I follow him for an instant?" and at the same moment Rica arose, 
 and left the chamber with hasty steps. 
 
 It was at the end of a long corridor, tapping gently at a door, Linton 
 stood, as Rica came up. 
 
 "What! is't over already?'* said Linton, with a look of angry im- 
 patience. 
 
 " This is not fair, Linton !" said Rica, endeavouring to get nearest 
 to the door. 
 
 " What is not fair ?" said the other, imperiously. " You told me a 
 while ago that she must pronounce, herself, upon her own future. 
 Well, I am willing to leave it to that issue." 
 
 "But she is unfit to do so at present," said Rica, entreatingly. 
 " You know well how unsettled is her mind, and how wandering are 
 her faculties. There are moments when she scarcely knows me — her 
 father." 
 
 " It is enough if she remember wze," said Linton, insolently. " Her 
 intellects will recover — the cloud will pass away ; and, if it should not, 
 still — as my wife, it is an object I have set my heart on ; and so, let 
 me pass." 
 
 " I cannot — I will not peril her chances of recovery by such a shock," 
 said Rica, firmly ; then changing suddenly, he spoke in accents of deep 
 feeling. " Remember, Linton, how I offered you her whom you acknow- 
 ledged you preferred. I told you the means of coercion in my power, 
 and pledged myself to use them. It was but two days since I disco- 
 vered where they were ; to-morrow we will go there together. I will 
 claim her as my daughter : the laws of France are imperative in the 
 matter. Mary Leicester shall be yours." 
 
 " I care for her no longer," said Linton, haughtily. " I doubt, in- 
 deed, if I ever cared for her. She is not one to suit my fortunes. Ma- 
 ritana is, or at least may become so." 
 
 " Be it so, but not now, Linton; the poor child's reason is clouded." 
 
 " When she hears she is a Duchess," said Linton, half-sneeringly, " it 
 will dispel the gloomy vapour." 
 
 " I implore you — I entreat — on my knees I beg of you — " said the 
 distracted father ; and, unable to utter more, he sank powerless at Lin- 
 ton's feet ; meanwhile the other opened the door, and, stepping noiselessly 
 over the prostrate figure, entered the room. 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 609 
 
 CHAPTER LXXI. 
 
 Like a bold criminal he stood, 
 Calm in his guilt. 
 
 The Foeger. 
 
 With firm step and head high, Linton entered a room where the 
 dim half-light of the closed jalousies made each object indistinct. He 
 halted for an instant, to cast a searching glance around, and then, ad- 
 vanced to a door at the farthest end of the apartment ; at this he tapped 
 twice gently with his knuckles. He waited for an instant, and then repeated 
 his summons. Still no answer, even though he rapped a third time and 
 louder than before. Linton now turned the handle noiselessly, and 
 opened the door. For a moment or two he seemed uncertain whether 
 to advance or retire ; but his resolution was soon made — he entered and 
 closed the door behind him. 
 
 The chamber in which Linton now stood was smaller than the outer 
 one, and equally shaded from the strong sunlight. His eyes were now, 
 however, accustomed to the dusky half-light, and he was able to mark the 
 costly furniture and splendid ornaments of the room. The walls were 
 hung with rose-coloured damask, over which a drapery of white lace was 
 suspended, looped up at intervals to admit of small brackets of bronze, 
 on which stood either " statuettes," or vases of rare " Sevres." At a 
 toilet-table in the middle of the room were laid out the articles of a 
 lady's dressing-case, but of such costly splendour that they seemed too 
 gorgeous for use. Trinkets and jewellery of great value were scattered 
 carelessly over the table, and an immense diamond cross glittered from 
 the mother-o'-pearl frame of the looking-glass. 
 
 The half-open curtains at the end of the room showed a marble bath, 
 into which the water flowed from a little cascade of imitation rustic, its 
 tiny ripple murmuring in the still silence of the room. There was 
 another sound, still softer and more musical than that, there — the long- 
 drawn breathing of a young girl, who, with her face upon her arm, lay 
 asleep upon a sofa. With stealthy step and noiseless gesture, Linton 
 approached, and stood beside her. He was not one to be carried away 
 by any enthusiasm of admiration, and yet he could not look upon the 
 faultless symmetry of that form, the placid beauty of that face, on which 
 a passing dream had left a lingering smile, and not feel deeply moved. 
 
 2e 
 
610 ROLAND CA8HEL. 
 
 la her speaking moments, her dark and flashing eyes often lent a 
 character of haughty severity to her handsome features ; now, their dark 
 lashes shrouded them, and the expression of the face was angelic in 
 sweetness. The olive-darkness of her skin, too, was tempered by the 
 half-light, while the slight tinge of colour on her cheek might have 
 vied with the petal of a rose. Linton drew a chair beside the sofa, 
 and sat down. With folded arms, and head slightly bent forward, he 
 watched her, while his fast-hurrying thoughts travelled miles and miles 
 — speculating, planning, contriving — meeting difl&culties here — grasp- 
 ing advantages there — playing over a game of life, and thinking if an 
 adversary could find a flaw in it. 
 
 " She is worthy to be a Duchess," said he, as he gazed at her. ** A 
 duress ! — and what more ? — that is the question. Ah, these women, 
 these women ! if they but knew their power ! If they but knew how all 
 the boldest strivings of our intellects are as nothing compared to what 
 their beauty can effect ! Well, well; it is better that they should not. 
 They are tyrants, even as it is — petty tyrants — to all who care for them ; 
 and he who does not, is their master. That is the real power — there 
 the stronghold — and how they fear the man who takes his stand behind 
 it! — how they crouch and tremble before himl — what fascinating 
 graces do they reserve for him, that they wowld not bestow upon a 
 lover ! Is it that they only love where they fear ? How beautiful she 
 looks, and how calmly sweet ! — it is the sleeping tigress, notwithstand- 
 ing. And now to awake her : it is a pity, too ; that wearied mind 
 wants repose, and the future gives but little promise of it." 
 
 He bent down over her, till he almost touched the silken masses of 
 her long dark hair, and^ in a low, soft voice, said, 
 
 " Maritana — Maritana." 
 
 " No, no, no," said she, in the low, muttering accents of sleep, '^ not 
 here— not here !" 
 
 " And why not here, dearest ?" said he, catching at the words. " 
 
 A faint shudder passed over her, and she gathered her shawl more 
 closely around her. 
 
 " Hace mal tiempo," — the weather looks gloomy — said she, in a faint 
 voice. 
 
 " And if not here, Maritana, where then ?" said he, in a low tone. 
 
 " In our own deep forests, beneath the liana and the cedar ; where 
 the mimosa blossoms, and the acacia scents the air ; where fountains 
 are springing, and the glow-worm shines like a star in the dark grass. 
 Oh, not here ! not here !" cried she, plaintively. 
 
 " Then in Italy, Maritana mia, where all that the tropics can boast 
 is blended with whatever is beautiful in art ; where genius goes hand- 
 
Linton's last visit to Maritana 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. ^ll 
 
 itt-hand with nature ; and where life floats calmly on, Kke softie smootli-' 
 flowing river, unruflled and unbroken. 
 
 A faint low sigh escaped her, and her lips parted with a smile of 
 surpassing loveliness. 
 
 " Yes, dearest — there, with me, beside the blue waters of the Adriatic, 
 or lost amid the chestnut forests of the Apennines. Think of those 
 giorious cities, too, where the once great still live, enshrined by memory, 
 in their own palace walls. Think of Venice — " 
 
 The word was not well uttered when, with a shrill scream, she started 
 up and awoke. 
 
 " Who spoke to me of my shame ? Who spoke of Venice ?" cried 
 she, in accents of wild terror. 
 
 " Be calm, Maritana. It was a dream — nothing but a dream," said 
 Linton, pressing her gently down again. "^Do not think more of it." 
 
 " Where am I ?" said she, drawing a long breath. 
 
 " In your own dressing-room, dearest," said he, in an accent of deep 
 devotion. 
 
 " And you. Sir ? Why are you here ? and by what right do you 
 address me thus?" 
 
 " By no right," said Linton, with a submissive deference which well 
 became him. " I can plead nothing, save the devotion of a heart long 
 since your own, and the good wishes of your father, Maritana, who 
 bade me speak to you." 
 
 " I will not believe it. Sir," said she, proudly, as she arose and walked 
 the room with stately step. " I know but too well the influence you 
 wield over him, although I cannot tell how it is acquired. I have seen 
 your counsels sway, and your wishes guide him, when my entreaties 
 were unheard and unheeded. Tell me nothing, then, of his permission." 
 
 " Let me speak of that better reason, where my heart may plead, 
 Maritana. It was to offer you a share in my fortunes that I have come 
 here — to place at your feet whatever I possess in rank, in station, and 
 in future hope — to place you where your beauty and your fascinations 
 entitle you to shine — a Peeress of the Court of France — a Duchess, of 
 a name only second to Royalty itself." 
 
 The girl's dark eyes grew darker, and her flushed cheek grew crimson, 
 as with heaving bosom she listened. "A Duchess!" murmured she, 
 between her lips. 
 
 ^' La Duchesse de Marlier," repeated Linton, slowly, while his keen 
 eyes were riveted on her. 
 
 " And this real — not a pageant — not as that thing you made of me 
 before ?" 
 
 ** La Duchesse de Marlier," said Linton, again, " knows of no rank 
 
 2 R 2 
 
612 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 above her own, save in the Blood Royal. Her chateau was the present 
 of a king — her grounds are worthy of such a donor." 
 
 " And the Duke de Marlier," said she, with a look of ineffable irony, 
 " who is to play him ? Is the part reserved for Mr. Linton ?" 
 
 ** Could he not look the character ?" said Linton, putting on a smile 
 of seeming good-humour, while his lip trembled with passion. 
 
 ^' Look it — ay, that could he ; and if looks would suffice, he could 
 be all that his ambition aims at." 
 
 " You doubt my sincerity, Maritana," said he, sorrowfully ; " have I 
 ever given you cause to do so ?" 
 
 " Never," cried she, impetuously. " I read you from the first hour I 
 saw you. You never deceived me. My training has not been like that 
 of others of my sex and age, amidst the good, the virtuous, and the 
 pure. It was the corrupt, the basebom, and the abandoned offered 
 their examples to my eyes : the ruined gambler, the beggared adven- 
 tiu-er — their lives were my daily study. How then should I not recog- 
 nise one so worthy of them all ?'* 
 
 " This is less than fair, Maritana ; you bear me a grudge for having 
 counselled that career wherein your triumphs were unbounded ; and now, 
 you speak to me harshly for offering a station a princess might accept 
 without a derogation." 
 
 " Tell me not of my triumphs," said she, passionately ; " they were 
 my shame ! You corrupted me, by trifling with my ignorance of the 
 world. I did not know then, as now I know, what were the prizes of 
 that ambition I cherished ! But you knew them ; you speculated on 
 them, as now you speculate upon others. Ay, blush for it ; let your cheek 
 glow, and sear your cold heart for the infamy 1 The coroneted Duchess 
 would have been a costlier merchandise than the wreathed dancer! 
 Oh, shame upon you ! — shame upon you ! Could you not be satisfied 
 with your gambler's cruelty, and ruin those who have manhood's courage 
 to sustain defeat, but that you should make your victim a poor, weak, 
 motherless girl, whose unprotected life might have evoked even your 
 pity?" 
 
 " I will supplicate no longer ; upon you be it, if the alternative be 
 heavy. ^Hear me, young lady. It is by your father's consent, — nay, 
 more, at his desire, — that I make you the proffer of my name and rank. 
 He is in my power, — not his fortune, nor his future prospects, but his 
 very life is in my hands. You shudder at having been a dancer ; think 
 of what you may be — the daughter of a for9at, a galley-slave ! If these 
 be idle threats, ask himself; he will tell you if I speak truly. It is my 
 ambition that you should share my title and my fortune. 1 mean to 
 make your position one that the proudest would envy ; reject my offer 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 613 
 
 if you will, but never reproach me with what your own blind folly has 
 accomplished." 
 
 Maritana stood with clasped hands, and eyes wildly staring on 
 vacancy, as Linton, in a voice broken by passion, uttered these words. 
 
 " I will not press you, now, Maritana ; you shall have to-night to 
 think over all I have said ; to-morrow you will give me your answer." 
 
 " To-morrow?" muttered she after him. 
 
 " Who is there ?" said Linton, as a low, faint knock was heard at the 
 door. It was repeated, and Linton approached and opened the door. 
 A slight gesture of the hand was all that he could perceive in the half- 
 light ; but he understood it, and passed out, closing the door noiselessly 
 behind him. 
 
 " Well ?" said Rica, as he grasped the other's arm ; " well?'* 
 
 " Well ?" echoed Linton, peevishly. " She is in her most insolent of 
 moods, and affects to think that all the splendour I have offered her is 
 but the twin of the mock magnificence of the stage. She is a fool, but 
 she'll think better of it, or she must be taught to do so." 
 
 Rica sighed heavily, but made no answer ; at last he said, 
 
 " It is over with the Duke, and he bears it well." 
 
 " Good blood always does," said Linton. -" Your men of birth have a 
 lively sense of how little they have done for their estates, and therefore 
 part with them with a proportionate degree of indifference. Where 
 is he?" 
 
 " Writing letters in the boudoir off the drawing-room. You must 
 see him, and ask when the necessary papers can be signed and ex- 
 changed." 
 
 Linton walked on, and, passing through the play-room, around which 
 in every attitude of slumber the gamblers lay, entered the boudoir, 
 before a table in which, the Duke de Marsac was busy writing. 
 
 " Fortune has still been obdurate, my Lord Duke, I hear," said he, 
 entering softly. 
 
 The Duke looked up, and his pale features were totally devoid of all 
 emotion as he said, 
 
 " I have lost heavily, Sir." 
 
 " I am sincerely grieved to hear it ; as an old sufferer in the same 
 field, I can feel for others." A very slight movement of impatience on 
 the Duke's part showed that he regarded the sympathy as obtrusive. 
 Linton saw this, and went on : "I would not have invaded your privacy 
 to say as much, my Lord Duke ; but I thought it might be satisfactory 
 to you to learn that your ancient dukedom — the chateau of your proud 
 ancestors — is not destined to fall into plebeian hands, nor suffer the 
 
§}4 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 indignity of their profanation. I mean to purchase the property from 
 Rica myself." 
 
 " Indeed !" said the Duke, carelessly, as though the announcement 
 had no interest for him. 
 
 " I had fancied, my Lord, this information would have given you 
 pleasure," said Linton, -with evident irritation of manner. 
 
 " No, Sir," said the other languidly, " I am ashamed to say I cannot 
 appreciate the value of these tidings. 
 
 " Can the contract and transfer be speedily made out ?" said Lintou 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Of course ; there shall be no delay in the matter. I will givi? 
 orders to my *Notaire' at once." 
 
 " And where shall you be found to-morrow, my Lord Duke, in ease 
 we desire to confer with you?" 
 
 The Duke grew lividly pale, and he arose slowly from his chair, and, 
 taking Linton's arm, drew him towards a window in silence. Linton 
 saw well that some new train of thought had suddenly sprung up, and 
 wondered what could so instantaneously have wrought this change in 
 his manner. 
 
 " You ask me. Sir," said the Duke, with a slow emphasis on every 
 word, " where am I to be found to-morrow ? Is not Mr. Linton's 
 hnowledge of Paris sufficient to suggest the answer to that question ?" 
 There was a fierce boldness in the way these words were uttered Linton 
 could not comprehend, any more than he understood what they might 
 mean. 
 
 " I must plead ignorance, my Lord Duke. I really discredit the 
 eulogium you have pronounced upon my information." 
 
 " Then I will tell you, Sir," said the Duke, speaking in a low thick 
 whisper, while his dark [eyes glared with the fire of intense excitement. 
 " You will find me in the Seine I" 
 
 Linton staggered back as if he had been struck, and a pallor spread 
 over his features, making the very lips bloodless. " How do you mean, 
 Sir ? Why do you dare to say this to me T said he, in a voice brokea 
 and guttural. 
 
 " Since none should better know how to appreciate the news," was 
 the cold answer. 
 
 Linton trembled from head to foot, and, casting a wary look around 
 on every side to see that they were alone, he said, " These words may 
 mean much, or they may mean nothing^at least nothing that has 
 concern for me. Now, Sir, be explicit, — in what sense am I to read 
 them?" 
 
EOLAND CASHEL. 615 
 
 The Duke looked astonished at the emotion which all the other's 
 self-command could not repress ; he saw, too, that he had touched a 
 secret spring of conscience, and with a calm reserve he said, " Take 
 what I have said in the sense your own heart now suggests, and I ven- 
 tm'e to affirm it will be the least_^ pleasing Interpretation you can put 
 upon it !" 
 
 "You shall give me satisfaction for this, Sir," said Linton, whose 
 passion now boiled over. " I wiU not endure the tyranny of insinua- 
 tions from any man. Here, before you quit the house — if ever you 
 quit it — I will have full satisfaction for your insolence I" 
 
 ** Insolence!" cried the Duke. 
 
 " Yes, insolence. I repeat the word, and these gentlemen shall hear 
 a still stronger word addressed to you, if that will not suffice to arouse 
 your courage." 
 
 This speech was now directed to the crowd of gamblers, who, sud- 
 denly awakened by the loud talking, rushed in a body into the room. 
 
 Questions, and demands for explanation, pressed on every hand, — their 
 countrymen gathering round the antagonists on either side, both of whom 
 maintained for some minutes a perfect silence. The Duke was the first 
 to speak. "Gentlemen," said he, "you have heard an expression 
 addressed to me which no Frenchman listens to without inflicting chas- 
 tisement on the speaker. I do not ask — I do not care in the least — who 
 this person may be — what his rank and position in life ; I am ready to 
 admit him to the fullest equality with myself. It only remains that I 
 should satisfy myself of certain doubts, which his own manner have 
 originated. It may be that he cannot call me, or any other gentleman, 
 to account for his words." 
 
 Linton's face tmtched with short convulsive jerks as he listened, and 
 then, crossing the room to where the Duke stood, he struck him with his 
 glove across the face, while with a very shout of passion he uttered the 
 one word — " Coward!" The scene became now one of the wildest con- 
 fusion. The partizanship of country surrounded either with a group, 
 who, in loud tones, expressed their opinions, and asked for explanations 
 of what had occurred. That some gross insult had been put upon 
 Linton was the prevailing impression ; but how originating, or of what 
 nature, none knew, nor did the principals seem disposed to afford the 
 information. 
 
 " I tell you, Frobisher," cried Linton, angrily, " it is a matter does 
 not admit of explanation." 
 
 " Parbleu, Sir ! you have placed it out of the reach of such," said 
 an old French officer, " and I trust you will feel the consequences." 
 
 The chaos of tongues, loud in altercation and dispute, now burst forth 
 
616 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 again, some asserting that the cause of quarrel should be openly declared 
 at once, others averring that the opprobrious epithet applied by Linton 
 to the Duke effectually debarred negociation, and left no other arbitre- 
 ment than the pistol. In the midst of this tumult, where angry passions 
 were already enlisted, and insolent rejoinders passed from mouth to 
 mouth, a still louder uproar was now heard in the direction of the salon^ 
 and the crash of a breaking door, and the splintering noise of the 
 shattered wood, overtopped the other sounds. 
 
 "The Commissaire de Police!" cried some one, and the words were 
 electric. The hours of play were illegal — the habits of the house such as 
 to implicate all, in charges, more or less disgraceful — and immediately a 
 general rush was made for escape — some, seeking the well-known private 
 issues from the apartment, others, preparing for a bold attempt to force 
 their passage through the armed followers of the Commissary. 
 
 Every avenue of escape had been already occupied by the gen- 
 dannes; and the discomfited gamblers were seen returning into the 
 room, crestfallen and ashamed, when the Commissary, followed by a 
 knot of others in plain clothes, advancing into the middle of the cham- 
 ber, pronounced the legal form of arrest on all present. 
 
 " I am a Peer of France," said the Duke de Marsac, haughtily. 
 " I yield to no authority that does not carry the signature of my 
 Sovereign." 
 
 *•' You are free. Monsieur le Due," said the Commissary, bowing 
 respectfully. 
 
 " I am an English gentleman," said Linton, stepping forward. " I 
 demand by what right you presume to detain me in custody ?" 
 
 " What is your name. Sir ?'' asked the Commissary. 
 
 " Linton !" was the brief reply. 
 , " That's the man," whispered a voice from behind the Commissai'y ; 
 and, at the same instant, that functionary approached, and, laying his 
 hand on the other's shoulder, said, 
 
 *' I arrest you, Sir, on the charge of murder." 
 
 " Murder !" repeated Linton, with a sneer that he could not merge 
 into a laugh. " This is a sorry jest. Sir." 
 
 " You will find it sad earnest !" said a deep voice. 
 
 Linton turned round, and straight in front of him stood Roland 
 Cashel, who, with bent brows and compressed lips, seemed struggling 
 to repress the passion that worked within him. 
 
 " I say, Frobisher, are you omitted in the indictment ?" cried Linton, 
 with a sickly attempt to laugh; "or has our Buccaneering friend for- 
 gotten to stigmatise you for the folly of having known him ?" 
 
 " He is in my custody," said a gruff English voice, in reply to some 
 
'• 'm^' 
 
(D 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 617 
 
 observation of the Commissary ; and a short, stout-built man made a 
 gesture to another in the crowd to advance. 
 
 " What ! is this indignity to be put upon me ?" said Linton, as he 
 saw the handcuffs produced, and prepared to be adjusted to his wrists. 
 '* Is the false accusation of a pirate and a slaver to expose me to the 
 treatment of a convicted felon ?" 
 
 " I will do my duty, Sir," said the police officer, steadily. '•' If I do 
 more, my superiors can hear of it. Tom, put on the irons." 
 
 "Is this your vengeance. Sir?" said Linton, as he cast a look of 
 ineffable hate towards Cashel ; but Roland made no reply, as he stood 
 regarding the scene with an air of saddest meaning. 
 
 " You knew him better than I did, Charley," said Linton, sneeiingly, 
 *' when you black-balled him at the Yacht Club; but the world shall know 
 him better yet than either of us — mean-spirited scoundrel that he is !" 
 
 " Come away, Sir," said the officer, as he placed himself on one side 
 of his prisoner, his fellow doing the same at the other. 
 
 " Not till I see your warrant," said Linton, resolutely. 
 
 " There it is. Sir, all reg'lar," said the man ; " signed by the Secre- 
 tary of State and attested by the witness." 
 
 " The rascality is well got up," said Linton, trying to laugh, " but by 
 Heaven they shall pay for it !" These words were directed to where 
 Roland stood, and uttered with a concentrated hate that thriUed through 
 every heart around. 
 
 As Linton was led forth, the Commissary proceeded to arrest the dif- 
 ferent individuals present on the charge of gambling in secret. In the 
 midst of the group was Rica, standing pale with terror, and overcome by 
 the revelations he had listened to. 
 
 " I will be responsible for this gentleman's appearance," said Cashel, 
 addressing the Commissary. " There is no need to subject him to the 
 insult of an arrest." 
 
 " He can only be liberated by a bail bond in presence of the Judge, 
 Sir. You can accompany me to the Court, and enter into the recogni- 
 zances, if you will." 
 
 " Be it so," said Cashel, bowing. 
 
 Rica made a sign for Roland to approach him. He tried to speak, but 
 his voice was inarticulate from faintness, and the only audible sound was 
 the one word " Maritana." 
 
 " Where ?" said Cashel, eagerly. 
 
 Rica nodded in the direction of a small door that led from the chamber? 
 and Cashel made a gesture of assent in answer. 
 
 With headlong speed Roland traversed the corridor and entered the 
 antechamber at the end of it. One glance showed him that the room was 
 
618 ROLAND CA6HEL. 
 
 empty, and he passed on into the chamber where so lately Linton had 
 spoken with Mari tafia. This too was deserted, as was the bedroom 
 which opened into it. Hastening from place to place, he called her name 
 aloud, but no answer came. Terrified by a hundred fears, for he well 
 knew the rash impetuous nature of the girl, Roland entreated in tones of 
 wildest passion, " That she might come forth — that her friends were 
 all around her, and nothing more to fear." But no voice replied, and 
 when the sound of his own died away all was silent. The window of 
 the dressing-room was open, and, as Roland looked from it into the 
 street beneath, his eye caught the fragment of a dress adhering to the 
 hook of the " jalousie." It was plain now she had made her escape in 
 this manner, and that she was gone. 
 
 Too true ! Overcome by terror — her mind distracted by fears of Linton 
 — without one to succour or protect her, she had yielded to the impulse of 
 her dread, and leaped from the window ! That small rag of fluttering 
 gauze was all that remained of Maritana. 
 
 Rica was to hear these sad tidings as he was led away by the commis- 
 sary, but he listened to them like one whose mind was stunned by cala- 
 mity. A few low murmuring words alone escaped him, and they indi- 
 cated that he felt everything which was happening as a judgment upon 
 him for his own crimes. 
 
 Even in his examination before the judge, these half- uttered self-ac- 
 cusings broke forth, and he seemed utterly indifferent as to what fate 
 awaited him. By Cashel's intervention, and the deposit of a large sum 
 as bail for Rica's future appearance, his 'liberation was effected, and he 
 was led away from the spot unconscious of all around him. 
 
 As Cashel assisted the weak and tottering man through the crowded 
 passages of the court, he felt his arm gently touched by a hand, at the 
 same instant that his name was uttered. He turned hastily, and saw at 
 his side a woman, who, youthful and still handsome, bore in her appear- 
 ance the signs of deep poverty and still deeper sorrow. Her dress had 
 once been rich, but now from time and neglect was disfigured and shabby; 
 her veil, partly drawn across her face, was torn and ragged, and her very 
 shoes were in tatters. A more sad-looking object it were difficult to 
 conceive, and in the hurried glance Roland bestowed upon her, at a mo- 
 ment when all his thoughts were intent on other cares, he believed that 
 she was one entreating charity. Hastily'^ drawing forth his purse, he 
 offered her some money, but she drew proudly up, saying, " This is insult, 
 Sir, and I have not deserved it." 
 
 Cashel started with amazement, and, drawing closer, stared eagerly 
 at her. 
 
 " Great Heaven!" cried he; "is this possible? Is this — " 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 619 
 
 " Hush !" cried she. " Let me not hear my name — or what was once 
 my name — spoken aloud. I see now — you did not know me, nor 
 would I have brought myself to the shame of being recognised but for 
 his sake. He is now before the tribunal, and will be sent to prison for 
 want of bail." 
 
 Cashel motioned to her not to leave the spot ; and having safely 
 placed Rica in his carriage, returned to the court. 
 
 By the guarantee of his name, and the offer of any moneyed security 
 which might he required, Cashel obtained permission for Lord Charles 
 Frobisher to go free; and then, hurrying outside, communicated the 
 tidings to her who stood trembling with fear and anxiety. 
 
 With tearful eyes, and in a voice broken by sobs, she was uttering 
 her thanks as Lord Charles joined them. 
 
 '^ This, then, was your doing ?" said he, staring coldly at her. 
 
 '* Say, rather, it was your own, my Lord," said Cashel, sternly. 
 
 "Oh, Charles! thank him — thank him," cried she, hysterically. 
 " Friends have not been so plenty with us, that we can treat them 
 thus !" 
 
 " Lady Charles is most grateful. Sir," said Frobisher, with a cold 
 sneer. " I am sure the show of feeling she evinces must repay all 
 your generosity." And, with this base speech, he drew her arm within 
 his, and moved hastily away. One look towards Cashel, as she turned 
 to go, told more forcibly than words the agony of her broken heart. 
 
 And this was the once gay, light-hearted girl — the wild and daring 
 romp — whose buoyant spirit seemed above every reverse of fortune. 
 Poor Jemima Meek ! she had run away from her father's home to link 
 her lot with a gambler ! Some play transaction, in which his name 
 was involved, compelled him to quit the service, and at last the country. 
 Now depending for support upon his family, now hazarding his miser- 
 able means at play, he had lived a life of recklessness and privation- 
 nothing left to him of his former condition, save the name that he had 
 brought down to infamy ! 
 
620 ROLAND CASHEL. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXII. 
 
 " The end of all." 
 
 What a contrast did Roland Cashel's life now present to the purpose- 
 less vacuity of his late existence ! Every hour was occupied ; even to a 
 late period of each night was he engaged by cares which seemed to 
 thicken around him as he advanced. 
 
 We should but weary our reader were we to follow him in the ceaseless 
 round of duties which hard necessity imposed. Each morning his first 
 visit was to the hospital of St. Louis, where Keane still lay, weakly 
 struggling against a malady whose fatal termination was beyond a doubt; 
 and although Roland could not wish for the prolongation of a life which 
 the law would demand in expiation, he felt a craving desire that the tes- 
 timony of the dying man should be full and explicit on every point, and 
 that every dubious circumstance should be explained ere the grave closed 
 over him. 
 
 To seek for Maritana, to endeavour to recover this poor forlorn girl> 
 was his next care, and to this end he spared nothing. Whatever money 
 could purchase, or skill and unwearied enterprise suggest, were all em- 
 ployed in the search. Rica, whose nature seemed totally changed by 
 the terrible shock of Linton's culpabihty, gave himself up implicitly to 
 Cashel's guidance, and was unceasing in his efforts to discover his miss- 
 ing child. But with all the practised acuteness of the police at their com- 
 mand, and all the endeavours which their zeal could practise, the search 
 was fruitless, and not a trace of her could be detected. 
 
 Through the Neapolitan Embassy, orders were transmitted to Naples 
 to inquire into the case of Enriquez, whose innocence the testimony of 
 Keane went far to establish. The result was, as Cashel ardently hoped, 
 his complete vindication, and a telegraphic despatch brought tidings 
 that he was already liberated and on his way to Paris. While both 
 Roland and Rica waited impatiently for the arrival of one whose assist- 
 ance in their search would be so valuable, the most perfect good under- 
 standing grew up between them, and Cashel began to perceive how, be- 
 neath the vices which a life of reckless debauchery had created, there 
 lay — inactive and unused for many a day — kindly feelings and warm 
 affections for which he had never given him credit. As this confidence 
 grew stronger, Rica became more frank and open in all his intercourse, 
 and at last revealed to Cashel the whole story of his life — a strange, 
 eventful history, whose vicissitudes were the changing fortunes of a 
 
KOLAND CASHEL. 621 
 
 gambler's existence. For such was he : without a passion, a pursuit of 
 any kind but play, he had passed his life in that one baneful vice. For 
 it he had toiled and laboured ; to indulge that passion he had engaged 
 in deadly duels, and perilled his life by acts of forgery. 
 
 His marriage with Corrigan's daughter was brought about solely to 
 procure the means of play ; nor was there an energy of his mind or an 
 impulse of his nature had any other direction. Linton's skill as a 
 gambler — the unceasing resources he seemed to possess — the stratagems 
 and devices he could deploy — created for him, in Rica's mind, a species 
 of admiration that soon degenerated into a blind submission to all his 
 dictates. Such an ally as this, so deeply versed in all the weak points 
 of his fellow-men — so thoroughly master of every impulse that moves — 
 of every hope and fear that sways the gambler's nature — ^had been the 
 cherished desire of his heart for many a year, and now Fortune had at 
 last given him such an associate. Their sudden success seemed to war- 
 rant the justice of the hope. Everything prospered with them since 
 their new league. If he did not gain an equal ascendancy over the 
 daughter's mind as he had acquired over the father's, still the ambitious 
 future he often pictured before her dazzled and delighted her, and thus, 
 ere long, he contrived to obtain a degree of power, although of different 
 kinds, over both. From such an associate as Linton concealment was 
 impossible ; and Rica soon saw himself completely at the mercy of a 
 man who had sifted every motive of his heart and weighed every action 
 of his life, and at last became his pitiless tyrannical master. 
 
 Rica's connexion with Corrigan suggested to Linton's inventive mind 
 the possibility of succeeding to that estate for which already he had 
 perilled so much. His plan was to obtain from Corrigan a full renuncia- 
 tion of his claim to the property, and then to take the necessary steps to 
 investigate the long dormant title. All their efforts to discover the old 
 man's residence were, however, vain; for although they once obtained a 
 clue to the fact, some information seemed to have apprised the others 
 of their danger, and their abode was immediately changed. 
 
 It was with a strange thrill of mingled pain and pleasure Cashel 
 heard Rica speak of his daughter Mary, — of her he had deserted for so 
 many a year, and yet now yearned towards with an affection that sprang 
 from his self-accusings. The terrible chastisement his own vices had 
 inflicted on his lonely and deserted lot seemed never absent from his 
 thoughts ; and he would sit for hours silently, while the heavy tears 
 rolled along his furrowed cheeks, and his strong, heaving bosom showed 
 his agony. 
 
 The fruitlessness of their search after Maritaiia in Paris, and the 
 death of Tom Keane in the hospital, removed the only obstacles to their 
 
622? ROLAISTD CASHEL. 
 
 departure from that city ; and Rica and Cashel, who now felt their for- 
 tunes bound up together, prepared to take their leave of Paris. The 
 trial of Linton was to take place in Limerick, and thither Roland was 
 summoned by the law officers of the Crown. This sad duty accom- 
 plished, he was to accompany Rica to Columbia, whither some slight 
 hope of recovering Maritana induced him to proceed. As for Cashel, 
 once in the old haunts of childhood, he had resolved never to quit them 
 more. 
 
 Roland's arrangements for departure were soon made, and he repaired 
 to the Embassy, where he had been invited to breakfast on the last 
 morning of his stay. There was a certain bustle and movement in the 
 court-yard which attracted his attention ; and he saw two travelling- 
 carriages, with an attendant " fourgon," surrounded by servants, and 
 loaded with all the preparations for a long journey. 
 
 " You have come in time, Mr, Cashel," said the Ambassador', as he 
 shook hands with him, " to see our new Minister at Florence, who ia 
 now on his way thither ; and what will have more interest in your eyes 
 — a very pretty girl, who has become the great literary character of our 
 circles here. I regret much that she is about to leave us." 
 
 Cashel bowed politely, but with the cold indifference of one for whom 
 the tidings had no peculiar interest, and accompanied the Ambassador 
 into a salon, crowded with company. 
 
 " I have a young countryman to present to you, my Lord," said his 
 Excellency, leading Cashel forward ; " who I trust will wear a less 
 sombre face in the sunny south than he has done in our northern lati- 
 tudes. Mr. Roland Cashel, Lord Kilgofif." 
 
 A sudden start of surprise was made by both, and Roland stood mute 
 and thunderstruck as Lord EalgofF advanced towards him with extended 
 hand, and said, 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Cashel, your old friend in better health and spirits than 
 when last you saw him ; and better able to thank you for much 
 hospitahty, and apologise for much injustice." 
 
 *' Let me have my share in both acknowledgments," said Lady Kil- 
 goff, rising, and taking CasheFs hand with much cordiality. 
 
 Roland tried to mutter a few words, but he could not succeed ; and 
 his eyes ranged about the chamber till they fell upon one who, pale and 
 motionless, regarded him with a look of most expressive sadness. 
 
 " Miss Leicester, too, here ?" said he, at last. 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Cashel," said Lady Kilgoff; "chance is about to do for 
 us, what all our skill would have failed in. Here are two worthy people 
 who will not hear your name mentioned, and who now must consent^ 
 not alone to hear, but see you in person. I am quite convinced you 
 
ROLAND CASHEL, 623 
 
 never did or could have injured them. Stand forward, Mr. Corrigan, 
 and make your charge." 
 
 " I will save that gentleman the pain of accusing me," said Roland, 
 with deep emotion. " I have injured him deeply, but yet unwittingly. 
 I have long desired this meeting, to place in his hands a document I 
 have never ceased to carry about me — the title to a property of which I 
 was not the rightful owner, and which is his — and his only." 
 
 " I will not, I cannot accept of it. Sir," said Corrigan, proudly. " I 
 will never see that cottage more." 
 
 " I do not speak of * the Cottage,' " said Cashel, ^' but of the whole 
 estate of Tubbermore, the ancient possession of your house — still yours. 
 There is the proof." And, as he spoke, he drew forth the pardon, and 
 handed it to Corrigan. 
 
 The old man trembled in every limb as he perused the paper, which 
 he now read over for the third time. 
 
 " A Royal pardon to Miles Corrigan, my grandfather !" exclaimed he, 
 gasping for breath ; ^' and how came you by this. Sir ?" 
 
 " The story is soon told," said Cashel, relating in a few words the 
 singular steps of the discovery. 
 
 " And you have travelled throughout Europe for upwards of three 
 years to disencumber yourself of 16,000?. a-year?" said the Ambassador, 
 smiling goodnaturedly. 
 
 " I have done so to disencumber myself of the weight of an injus- 
 tice." 
 
 ^^ And this is the youth yea would accuse of deception ?" said Lady 
 Kilgoff, haughtily. 
 
 " Forgive me, lady ; forgive one who has suffered too heavily from 
 the world not to fell into the error of thinking once unjustly of a bene- 
 factor." 
 
 " I have no title to the name, Sir," said Cashel. " Nay, more. I 
 am your debtor for wealth which I squandered, believing it my own." 
 
 " I knew him better than any of you," cried old Doctor Tiernay, 
 rushing forward and grasping Cashel by both hands. ** My own gene- 
 rous high-hearted boy. Come here, Mary j tell him candidly that you 
 too were always of my opinion. This is no time for coyness. Let us 
 have a little honesty after all this deception." He drew Cashel to one 
 side, and, in a deep whisper, said, "What of that Spanish girl? — Are you 
 married or not?" 
 
 Roland smiled at the eagerness of the old man's manner, and, in 
 half-sadness, said, " Poor Maritana is now a fugitive — we know not 
 where." 
 
 A sudden commotion at the door, and a tumult of voices, interrupted 
 
624 EOLAND CASHEL. 
 
 the scene, and Rica rushed in, crying in extasy, " She is found — my 
 child is found !" 
 
 The travellers of the diligence passing through the wood of Versailles 
 had discovered the form of a sleeping girl at the foot of a tree, and car- 
 ried her hack with them to Paris. Enriquez himself, being among them^ 
 recognised her at once, and soon succeeded in finding out Rica, into 
 whose arms he restored her. 
 
 While Rica hurriedly poured forth this explanation, old Corrigan 
 stood tremulous with agitation, and at last, advancing towards him, said, 
 " Leicester, I am no longer afraid to meet you. Fortune has, at last, 
 favoured me. I am rich now, and can make you rich also." 
 
 Rica started back : a sudden sickness came over him, and he fell 
 powerless at the old man's feet. 
 
 *' What a scene of heartfelt emotion followed, as Mary recognised 
 her long-lost father, and the careworn, sorrow-struck man saw the warm 
 affection of those whom, in a life long, he had injured. 
 
 " The end of all this will be," said Lady Kilgoff, laughing through 
 tears, " that I shall have to proceed on my journey alone. I foresee 
 that we shall not share in all the general joy of these discoveries." 
 
 " I have a sister, too," exclaimed Mary, with enthusiasm, whom I am 
 burning with impatience to see. "Where is she? when are we to meet?" 
 
 " She is below — she is in my carriage at the door/' said Rica. 
 
 The Ambassador heard the words and left the room, returning in a 
 moment with Marltana on his arm. Wearied and exhausted as she was, 
 there was that in her native grace and beauty that caused a thrill of 
 admiration as she entered. 
 
 " Here is your sister, Maritana," said Rica, leading her to where 
 Mary stood, gazing with wistful eyes at the Spanish beauty. Maritana 
 looked steadily at the fair loveliness before her, where timidity and gen- 
 tleness seemed impressed ; and then, as if yielding to some sudden im- 
 pulse, she sprang forward, and, clasping her hand, covered it with kisses, 
 exclaiming with rapture — 
 
 "Non! non la sua herraaiia, ma la sua esclava!" — Not her sister, 
 but her slave. 
 
 Among the group who with admiring eyes gazed upon this little scene, 
 titiere stood a dark, sombre -looking man, whose mean attire and travel- 
 worn look could not conceal a certain dignity of air and manner. Cashel's 
 quick glance soon discovered him, and in a moment they were locked in 
 a fast embrace. " My old, true-hearted comrade !" cried Roland. 
 
 " Yes, Sefiora !" said Maritana, as if answering the look of astonish- 
 ment of Mftry ; ** and for all that he seems now, he is a well-born ca- 
 ballero, and noble to boot." 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 625 
 
 " Everything looks worse and worse for my prospects of companion- 
 ship," said Lady Kilgoff, poutingly. " Mr. Corrigan — Mary — are you 
 both bent on desertion ?" 
 
 " We are bound for Ireland, fair lady ; the little remnant of my life 
 is a debt I owe my country." 
 
 " Seiior Rica and your lovely daughter, will you be our companions ?" 
 "Our road lies westward, lady. The New World must teach us to 
 forget the Old one." 
 
 " Mr. Cashel, am I to guess whither your steps will lead you ?" 
 
 " It would save me the pain of deciding if you did," said Roland, 
 
 " You come with us, Roland," said Mr. Corrigan; " you once told me 
 that you felt Tubberbeg a home. Let us see if time has not erased the 
 impression." 
 
 "And Maritafia, too!" cried Mary. 
 
 " And Enriquez !" said Maritafia. 
 
 '* Then I must be of the party," said Dr. Tiernay. '* I was never in- 
 tended by nature for an embassy physician, but as a village doctor I still 
 feel that 1 shall hold up my head with dignity." 
 
 Rica, who meanwhile was in earnest conversation with Cashel, now 
 advanced into the middle of the group and said, — " Mr. Cashel once con- 
 tracted a solemn pledge to me, from which I feel no inclination to re- 
 lease him. I ask him before this assemblage if it be true he promised to 
 marry my daughter ?" 
 
 Roland grew deadly pale, but in a faint voice replied, " It is true." 
 
 " Are you willing to keep your pledge ?" said Rica, firmly. 
 
 Cashel made no answer but a slight motion of the head. 
 
 " Then she is yours," said Rica, placing Mary Leicester's hand in his. 
 While Maritafia, in a transport of feeling, fell into her father's arms and 
 sobbed aloud. 
 
 " Then we are all bound once for Ireland," cried Mr. Corrigan ; " and 
 I trust never to leave it more." 
 
 " I will not promise," said Cashel, as he drew Mary closer to him. 
 " The memories I bear of the land are not all painless." 
 
 "But you have seen nothing of Ireland that was Irish I" exclaimed 
 Tiernay, boldly. " You saw a mongrel society made up of English 
 adventurers, who, barren of hope at home, came to dazzle with their 
 fashionable vices the cordial homeliness of our humbler land. You saw 
 the poor pageantry of a mock court, and the frivolous pretention of a 
 tinsel rank. You saw the emptiness of pretended statesmanship, and 
 the assumed superiority of a class whose ignorance was only veiled by 
 their insolence. But of hearty, generous, hospitable Ireland — of the 
 
 2s 
 
626 R0LA1«> CASHEL. 
 
 land of warm impulses and kindly affections — you saw nothing'. That 
 is a country yet to he explored by you ; nor are its m3'steries the less 
 likely to be unravelled, that an Irish wife will be your guide to them. 
 And now to breakfast, for I am famishing," 
 
 Where the characters of a tale bear a share in influencing its cata- 
 strophe, the reader seems to have a prescriptive right to learn something 
 of their ultimate destiny, even though the parts they played were merely 
 subordinate. Many of ours here cannot lay claim to such an interest, 
 and were seen but like the phantoms which a magic lantern throws 
 upon the wall — moving and grouping for a moment, and then lost 
 for ever. 
 
 It is from no want of respect to our reader if we trace not the current 
 of such lives ; it is simply from the fact, that when they ceased to 
 act they ceased as it were to exist. Are we not, all of us in the world, 
 acted upon and influenced by events and people — purely passers-by, 
 known to-day, seen perhaps for a week, or known for a month, and yet 
 never after met with in all life's journey? As on a voyage, many a 
 casual air of wind, many a wayward breeze helps us onward, and yet 
 none inquire " whence it cometh or whither it goetb," — so is it in the 
 real world ; and why not in the world of fiction, which ought to be its 
 counterpart ? 
 
 Of those in whom our interest centred, the reader knows all that we 
 know ourselves. Would he, or rather she, care to learn that the elder 
 Miss Kennyfeck never married, but became a companion to Lady 
 Janet, who, on the death of Sir Andrew, caused by his swallowing a 
 liniment, and taking into his stomach what was meant for his skin, 
 went abroad, and is still a well-known character in the watering-places 
 of Germany, where she and her friend are the terror of all who tremble 
 at evil-speaking and slandering? 
 
 Olivia married the Reverend Knox Softly, and seems as meek as a 
 curate's wife ought to be, nor bears a trace of those days when she 
 smiled on cornets or mingled sighs with captains of hussars. If some 
 of our characters have fared ill in this adventurous history, others have 
 been more fortunate. The Dean is made a Colonial Bishop, and the 
 distinguished Mr. Hordle's picture occupies a place in the last Ex- 
 hibition ! 
 
 Meek is still a placeman : bland, gentle, and conciliating as ever, 
 he made at the close of the session a most affecting speech upon the 
 sorrows of Ireland, and drew tears from the ventilator at his picture o£ 
 her destitution ! 
 
 Mrs. Kennyfeck and "Aunt Fanny" keep house together in the 
 ancient city of Galway. Attracted to each other by a thousand antipa- 
 
ROLAND CASHEL. 627 
 
 tbies, more cohesive than any friendship, they fight and quarrel un- 
 ceasingly, and are never known to agree, save when the enthusiasm of 
 their malevolence has discovered a common victim in the circle of their 
 *' friends." 
 
 Here ends our history ; nor need we linger longer with those whose 
 happiness, so far as worldly prosperity can make it, is at last secured. 
 
 There is but one destiny of which we have to speak. Linton was 
 never brought to trial ; the day after his landing in England he was 
 found dead in the cell of his prison, — no trace of violence, nor any 
 evidence of poison, to account for the circumstance; and whether 
 through some agency of his own, or by the workings of a broken heart 
 the fact remains a mystery. 
 
 THE END, 
 
C. WHITING, BEAUPOKT HOUSE, STRAND. 
 
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