The Knight Of Gwynne, Vol. 1 (of 2)

by Charles James Lever

  CHAPTER XXXII. "SAD DISCLOSURES."

  The vicissitudes of life are never more palpably displayed before usthan when the space of a few brief hours has converted the scene offestivity and pleasure into one of gloom and sorrow, when the samesilent witnesses of our joy should be present at our affliction. Thuswas it now in the richly adorned chambers of Gwynne Abbey, so latelyfilled with happy faces and resounding with pleasant voices,--allwas silent. Iu the courtyard, but a day before crowded with brilliantequipages and gay horsemen, the long shadows lay dark and unbroken, andthe plash of the fountain was the only sound in the stillness. Over thatwide lawn no groups on foot or horseback were to be seen; the landscapewas fair and soft to look upon; the mild radiance of a spring morningbeamed on the water and the shore, the fresh budding trees, and the talltowers; and the passing traveller who might have stopped to gaze uponthat princely dwelling and its swelling woods, might have thought it anearthly paradise, and that they who owned it must needs be above worldlycares and afflictions.

  The scene within the walls was very unlike this impression. In adarkened room, where the close-drawn curtains excluded every ray ofsunshine, sat Helen Darcy by the bedside of her mother. Lady Eleanor hadfallen asleep after a night of intense suffering, both of mind andbody, and her repose even yet exhibited, in short and fitful starts, theterrible traces of an agony not yet subdued. Helen was pale as death;two dark circles of almost purple hue surrounded her eyes, and hercheeks seemed wasted: yet she had not wept. The overwhelming amount ofmisfortune had stunned her for a moment or two, but, recalled to activeexertion by her mother's illness, she addressed herself to her task, andseemed to have no thought or care save to watch and tend her. It wasonly at last when, wearied out by suffering, Lady Eleanor fell into aslumber that Helen's feelings found their vent, and the tears rolledheavily along her cheek, and dropped one by one upon her neck.

  Her sorrow was indeed great, for it was unalloyed by one selfishfeeling; her grief was for those a thousand times more dear to her thanherself, nor through all her affliction did a single thought intrude ofhow this ruin was also her own.

  The Knight was in the library, where he had passed the night, lying downat short intervals to catch some moments' rest, and again rising towalk the room and reflect upon the coming stroke of fortune. Lionel hadparted from him at a late hour, promising to go to bed; but, unable toendure the gloom of his own thoughts in his chamber, he wandered outinto the woods, and strolled on without knowing or caring whither, tillday broke. The bodily exertion at length induced sleep, and after a fewhours' deep repose he joined his father, with few traces of weariness oreven sorrow.

  It was not without a struggle on either side that they met on thatmorning, and as Darcy grasped his son's hand in both his own, his liptrembled, and his strong frame shook with agitation. Lionel's ruddycheek and clear blue eye seemed to reassure the old man's courage; andafter gazing on him steadfastly with a look where fatherly love andpride were blended, he said, "I see, my boy, the old blood of a Darcyhas not degenerated--you are well to-day?"

  "Never was better in my life," said Lionel, boldly; "and if I couldonly think that you, my mother, and Helen had no cause for sorrow, I 'dalmost say I never felt my spirits higher."

  "My own brave-hearted boy," said Darcy, throwing his arms around theyouth's neck, while the tears gushed from his eyes and a choking stoppedhis utterance.

  "I see your letters have come," said Lionel, gently disengaging himself,and affecting a degree of calmness his heart was very far from feeling."Do they bring us any news?"

  "Nothing to hope from," said Darcy, sorrowfully. "Daly has seenHickman's solicitors, and the matter is as I expected: Gleeson did notpay the bond debt; his journey to Kildare was, probably, undertaken togain time until the moment of the American ship's sailing. He must havemeditated this step for a considerable time, for it now appears that hislosses in South America occurred several years back, though carefullyscreened from public knowledge. The man was a cold, calculatingscoundrel, who practised peculation systematically and slowly; hisresolve to escape was not a sudden notion,--these are Bagenal Daly'simpressions at least, and I begin to feel their force myself."

  "Does Daly offer any suggestion for our guidance, or say how we shouldact?" said Lionel, far more eager to meet the present than speculate oneither the past or the future.

  "Yes; he gives us a choice of counsels, honestly confessing that his ownadvice meets little support or sympathy with the lawyers. It is to holdforcible possession of the abbey, to leave Hickman to his remedy bylaw, and to defy him when he has even got a verdict; he enumerates verycircumstantially all our means of defence, and exhibits a very hopefularray of lawless probabilities in our favor. But this is a counselI would never follow; it would not become one who has in a longlife endeavored to set the example among the people of obedience andobservance to law, to obliterate by one act of rashness and folly thewhole force of his teaching. No, Lionel, we are cleanhanded on thisscore, and if the lesson, be a heavy one for ourselves, let it not beprofitless for our poor neighbors. This is your own feeling too, my boy,I'm certain."

  Lionel bit his lip, and his cheek grew scarlet; when, after a pause, hesaid, "And the other plan, what is that?"

  "The renewed offer of his cottage on the northern coast, a lonelyand secluded spot, where we can remain at least until we determine onsomething better."

  "Perhaps that may be a wiser course," muttered the youth, half aloud;"my mother and Helen are to be thought of first. And yet, father, I.cannot help thinking Daly's first counsel has something in it."

  "Something in it! ay, Lionel, that it has,--the whole story of ourcountry's misery and degradation. The owner of the soil has diffusedlittle else among the people than the licentious terror of his ownunbridled passion; he has taught lawless outrage, when he should haveinculcated obedience and submission. The corruption of our people hascome from above downwards; the heavy retribution will come one day; andwhen the vices of the peasant shall ascend to the master, the socialruin will be complete. To this dreadful consummation let us lend no aid.No, no, Lionel, sorrow may be lessened by time; but remorse is undyingand eternal."

  "I must leave the Guards at once," said the young man, pacing the roomslowly, and endeavoring to speak with an air of calm composure, whileevery feature of his face betrayed the agitation he suffered; "anexchange will not be difficult to manage."

  "You have some debts, too, in London: they must be cared forimmediately."

  "Nothing of any large amount; my horses and carriages when sold willmore than meet all I owe. Have you formed any guess as to what incomewill be left you to live on?" said he, in a voice which anxiety madeweak and tremulous.

  "Without Daly's assistance, I cannot answer that point; the extent ofthis fellow Gleeson's iniquity seems but half explored. The likelihoodis, that your mother's jointure will be the utmost we can save from thewreck. Even that, however, will be enough for all we need, although,from motives of delicacy on her part, it was originally set down at avery small sum,--not more than a thousand per annum."

  A long silence now ensued. The Knight, buried in thought, sat with hisarms crossed, and his eyes bent upon the ground. Lionel leaned on thewindow-frame and looked out upon the lawn; nothing stirred, no sound washeard save the sharp ticking of the clock upon the mantelpiece, whichmarked with distinctness every second, as if reminding them of thefleeting moments that were to be their last beneath that roof.

  "This is the 24th, if I remember aright," said Darcy, looking up at thedial; "at noon, to-day, we are no longer masters here."

  "The Hickmans will scarcely venture to push matters to such extremities;an assurance that we are willing to surrender peaceable possession will,I trust, be sufficient to prevent the indecency of a rapid flight fromour own house and home."

  "There are legal forms of possession to be gone through, I believe,"said the Knight, sorrowfully; "certain observances the law exacts, whichwould be no less painful for us to witness than the actual presence o
four successors."

  "Who can this be? I saw a carriage disappear behind the copse yonder.There it is again, coming along by the lake."

  "Daly--Bagenal Daly, I hope and trust!" exclaimed Darcy, as he stoodstraining his eyes to catch the moving object.

  "I think not; the horses do not look like posters. Heaven grant we haveno visitors at such a time as this!"

  The carriage, although clearly visible the moment before, was nowconcealed from view by an angle of the wood, nor would it again be insight before reaching the abbey.

  "Your mother's indisposition is reason sufficient not to receive them,"said Darcy, almost sternly. "I would not continue the part I have playedduring the last week, no, not for an hour longer, to be assured ofrescue from every difficulty. The duplicity went nigh to break my heart;ay, and it would have done so, or driven me mad, had the effort beensustained any further."

  "You did not expect any one, did you?" asked Lionel, eagerly.

  "Not one; there's a mass of letters, with invitations and civilmessages, there on the table, but no proffered visits among them."

  Lionel walked to the table and turned over the various notes which layalong with newspapers and pamphlets scattered about.

  "Ay," muttered the Knight, in a low tone, "they read strangely now,these plans of pleasure and festivity, when ruin is so near us; the kindpressings to spend a week here, and a fortnight there. It reminds me,Lionel,"--and here a smile of sad but sweet melancholy passed across hisfeatures,--"it reminds me of the old story they tell of my grand-uncleRobert. He commanded the 'Dreadnought,' under Drake, at Cape St.Vincent, and at the close of a very sharp action was signalled to comeon board the admiral's vessel to dinner. The poor 'Dreadnought' was likea sieve, the sea running in and out through her shot-holes, and hersails hanging like rags around her, her deck covered with wounded, andslippery with gore. Captain Darcy, however, hastened to obey the commandof his superior, changed his dress and ordered his boat to be manned;but this was no easy matter, there was scarcely a boat's crew to be hadwithout taking away the men necessary to work the ship. The difficultysoon became more pressing, for a plank had suddenly sprung from adouble-headed shot, and all the efforts of the pumps could not keep thevessel afloat, with a heavy sea rolling at the same time.

  "'The admiral's signal is repeated, sir,' said the lieutenant on duty.

  "'Very well, Mr. Hay; keep her before the wind,' was the answer.

  "'The ship is settling fast, sir,' said the master; 'no boat could livein that sea; they 're all damaged by shot.'

  "'Signal the flag-ship,' cried out Darcy; 'signal the admiral that I amready to obey him, but we 're sinking.'

  "The bunting floated at the mast-head for a moment or two, but the waveswere soon many fathoms over it, and the 'Dreadnought' was never seenmore."

  "So it would seem," said Lionel, with a half-bitter laugh, "we are notthe first of the family who went down head foremost. But I hear a voicewithout. Surely old Tate is not fool enough to admit any one."

  "Is it possible--" But before the Knight could finish, the old butlerentered to announce Mr. Hickman O'Reilly. Advancing towards the Knightwith a most cordial air, he seemed bent on anticipating any possibleexpression of displeasure at his unexpected appearance.

  "I am aware, Knight," said he, in an accent the most soft andconciliating, "how indelicate a visit from me at such a moment mayseem; but if you accord me a few moments of private interview, I hope todispel the unpleasant impression." He looked towards Lionel as he spoke,and though he smiled his blandest of all smiles, evidently hinted at thepossibility of his leaving them alone together.

  "I have no confidences apart from my son, sir," said Darcy, coldly.

  "Oh, of course not--perfectly natural at Captain Darcy's age--such athought would be absurd; still, there are circumstances which mightpossibly excuse my request--I mean--"

  Lionel did not suffer him to finish the sentence, but, turning abruptlyround, left the room, saying as he went, "I have some orders to give inthe stable, but I'll not go further away if you want me."

  "Now, sir," said the Knight, haughtily, "we are alone, and not likely tobe interrupted; may I ask, as a great favor, that in any communicationyou may have to make, you will be as brief as consists with your object;for, to say truth, I have many things on my mind, and many importantcalls to attend to."

  "In the first place, then," said Hickman, assuming a manner intended toconvey the impression of perfect frankness and candor, "let me makea confession, which, however humiliating to avow, would be stillmore injurious to hold in reserve. I have neither act nor part in theproceedings my father has lately taken respecting your mutual dealings.Not only that he has not consulted me, but every attempt on my part toascertain the course of events, or mitigate their rigor, has been metby a direct, not unfrequently a rude, repulse." He waited at thispause for the Knight to speak, but a cold and dignified bow was all theacknowledgment returned. "This may appear strange and inexplicable inyour eyes," said O'Reilly, who mistook the Knight's indifference forincredulity, "but perhaps I can explain."

  "There is not the slightest necessity to do so, Mr. O'Reilly; I have noreason to doubt one word you have stated; for not only am I ignorant ofwhat the nature and extent of the proceedings you allude to may be, butI am equally indifferent as to the spirit that dictates or the number ofadvisers that suggest them; pardon me if I seem rude or uncourteous, butthere are circumstances in life in which not to be selfish would beto become insensible; my present condition is, perhaps, one of them. Abreach of trust on the part of one who possessed my fullest confidencehas involved all, or nearly all, I had in the world. The steps by whichI am to be deprived of what was once my own are, as regards myself,matters of comparative indifference; with respect to others"--here healmost faltered--"I hope they may be dictated by proper feeling andconsideration."

  "Be assured they shall, sir," said Mr. O'Reilly; and then, as ifcorrecting a too hasty avowal, added, "but I have the strongest hopesthat the matters are not yet in such an extremity as you speak of. It istrue, sir, I will not conceal from you, my father is not free from thefaults of age; his passion for money-getting has absorbed his wholeheart, to the exclusion of many amiable and estimable traits; to enforcea legal right with him seems a duty, and not an option; and I maymention here that your friend, Mr. Daly, has not taken any particularpains towards conciliating him; indeed, he has scarcely acted a prudentpart as regards you, by the unceasing rancor he has exhibited towardsour family."

  "I must interrupt you, sir," said the Knight, "and assure you that,while there are unfortunately but too many topics which could pain meat this moment, there is not one more certain to offend me than anyreflection, even the slightest, on the oldest friend I have in theworld."

  Mr. O'Reilly denied the most remote intention of giving pain, andproceeded. "I was speaking of my father," said he, "and howeverunpleasant the confession from a son's lips, I must say that thelegality of his acts is the extent to which they claim his observance.When his solicitors informed him that the interest was unpaid on yourbond, he directed the steps to enforce the payment, and subsequently toforeclose the deed. These are, after all, mere preliminary proceedings,and in no way preclude an arrangement for a renewal."

  "Such a proposition--let me interrupt you--such a proposition is whollyout of the question; the ruin that has cost us our house and home hasspared nothing. I have no means by which I could anticipate the paymentof so large a sum, nor is it either my intention or my wish to residelonger beneath this roof."

  "I hope, sir, your determination is not unalterable; it would be thegreatest affliction of my life to think that the loss to this county ofits oldest family was even in the remotest degree ascribed to us. TheDarcys have been the boast and pride of western Ireland for centuries;our county would be robbed of its fairest ornament by the departure ofthose who hold a princely state and derive a more than princely devotionamong us."

  "If our claims had no other foundation, Mr. O'Reilly, our altered
circumstances would now obliterate them. To live here with diminishedfortune--But I ask pardon for being led away in this manner; may I begthat you will now inform me to what peculiar circumstances I owe thehonor of your visit?"

  "I thought," said O'Reilly, insinuatingly, "that I had mentioned thedifference of feeling entertained by my father and myself respectingcertain proceedings at law."

  "You are quite correct, you did so; but I may observe, withoutincivility, that however complimentary to your own sense of delicacysuch a difference is, for me the matter has no immediate interest."

  "Perhaps, with your kind permission, I can give it some," repliedO'Reilly, drawing his chair close, and speaking in a low andconfidential voice; "but in order to let my communication have the valueI would wish it, may I bespeak for myself a favorable hearing and a kindconstruction on what I shall say? If by an error of judgment--"

  "Ah!" said Darcy, sighing, while a sad smile dimpled his mouth--"ah! noman should be more lenient to such than myself."

  As if reassured by the kindly tone of these few words, O'Reillyresumed:--

  "Some weeks ago my father waited upon Lady Eleanor Darcy with aproposition which, whether on its own merits, or from want of propertact in his advocacy of it, met with a most unfavorable reception. It isnot because circumstances have greatly altered in that briefinterval--which I deeply regret to say is the case--that I dare to augura more propitious hearing, but simply because I hope to show that inmaking it we were actuated by a spirit of honorable, if not of laudable,ambition. The rank and position my son will enjoy in this county, hisfortune and estate, are such as to make any alliance, save with yourfamily, a question of no possible pretension. I am well aware, sir, ofthe great disparity between a new house and one ennobled by centuries ofdescent. I have thought long and deeply on the interval that separatesthe rank of the mere country gentleman from the position of him whoclaims even higher station than nobility itself; but we live inchangeful times: the Peerage has its daily accessions of rank as humbleas my own; its new creations are the conscripts drawn from wealth aswell as distinction in arms or learning, and in every case the newgeneration obliterates the memory of its immediate origin. I see youagree with me; I rejoice to find it."

  "Your observations are quite just," said Darcy, calmly, and O'Reillywent on:--

  "Now, sir, I would not only reiterate my father's proposal, but I wouldadd to it what I hope and trust will be deemed no ungenerous offer,which is, that the young lady's fortune should be this estate of GwynneAbbey, not to be endowed by her future husband, but settled on her byher father as her marriage portion. I see your meaning,--it is no longerhis to give: but we are ready to make it so; the bond we hold shall bethrown into the fire the moment your consent is uttered. We prefer athousand times it should be thus, than that the ancient acres of thisnoble heritage should even for a moment cease to be the property of yourhouse. Let me recapitulate a little--"

  "I think that is unnecessary," said Darcy, calmly; "I have bestowedthe most patient attention to your remarks, and have no difficulty incomprehending them. Have you anything to add?"

  "Nothing of much consequence," said O'Reilly, not a little pleased bythe favorable tone of the Knight's manner; "what I should suggest inaddition is that my son should assume the name and arms of Darcy--"

  The noise of footsteps and voices without at this moment interruptedthe speaker, the door suddenly opened, and Bagenal Daly entered. Hewas splashed from head to foot, his high riding-boots stained withthe saddle and the road, and his appearance vouching for a long andwearisome journey.

  "Good morrow, Darcy," said he, grasping the Knight's hand with the gripof his iron fingers.--"Your servant, sir; I scarcely expected to see youhere _so soon_."

  The emphasis with which he spoke the last words brought the color toO'Reilly's cheek, who seemed very miserable at the interruption.

  "You came to take possession," continued Daly, fixing his eyes on himwith a steadfast stare.

  "You mistake, Bagenal," said the Knight, gently; "Mr. O'Reilly is comewith a very different object,--one which I trust he will deem it nobreach of confidence or propriety in me if I mention it to you."

  "I regret to say, sir," said O'Reilly, hastily, "that I cannot give mypermission in this instance. Whatever the fate of the proposal Ihave made to you, I beg it to be understood as made under the seal ofhonorable secrecy."

  Darcy bowed deeply, but made no reply.

  "Confound me," cried Daly, "if I understand any compact between two suchmen as you to require all this privacy, unless you were hardy enough torenew your old father's proposal for my friend's daughter, and now hadmodesty enough to feel ashamed of your own impudence."

  "I am no stranger, sir, to the indecent liberties you permit your tongueto take," said Hickman, moving towards the door; "but this is neitherthe time nor place to notice them."

  "So then I was right," cried Daly; "I guessed well the game you wouldplay--"

  "Bagenal," interposed the Knight, "I must atop this. Mr. Hickman is nowbeneath my roof--"

  "Is he, faith?--not in his own estimation then. Why, his fellows aretaking an inventory of the furniture at this very moment."

  "Is this true, sir?" said Darcy, turning a fierce look towards O'Reilly,whose face became suddenly of an ashy paleness.

  "If so," muttered he, "I can only assure you that it is without anyorders of mine."

  "How good!" said Daly, bursting into an insolent laugh; "why, Darcy,when you meet with a fellow in your plantations with a gun in his handand a lurcher at his heels, are you disposed to regard him as one insearch of the picturesque, or a poacher? So, when a gentleman travelsabout the country with a sub-sheriff in his carriage and two bailiffs inthe rumble, does it seem exactly the guise of one paying morning callsto his neighbors?"

  "Mr. O'Reilly, I ask you to explain this proceeding."

  "I confess, sir," stammered out the other, "I came accompanied bycertain persons in authority, but who have acted in this matter entirelywithout my permission. The proposal I have made this day was the causeof my visit."

  "It is a subject on which I can no longer hold any secrecy," said theKnight, haughtily. "Bagenal, you were quite correct in your surmise. Mr.O'Reilly not only intended us the honor of an alliance, but offered tomerge the ancient glories of his house by assuming the more humble nameand shield of Darcy."

  "What! eh! did I hear aright?" said Daly, with a broken voice; while,walking to the window, he looked down into the lawn beneath, as ifcalculating the height from the ground. "By Heaven, Darcy, you 're thebest-tempered fellow in Europe--that 's all," he muttered, as he walkedaway.

  The door opened at this moment, and the shock bullet head of a bailiffappeared.

  "That's Mr. Daly! there he is!" cried out O'Reilly, who, pale withpassion and trembling all over, supported himself against the back ofa chair with one hand, while with the other he pointed to where Dalystood.

  "In that case," said the fellow, entering, while he drew a slip of paperfrom his breast, "I 'll take the opportunity of sarvin' him where hestands."

  "One step nearer! one step!" said Daly, as he took a pistol from thepocket of his coat.

  The man hesitated and looked at O'Reilly, as if for advice orencouragement; but terror and rage had now deprived him of allself-possession, and he neither spoke nor signed to him.

  "Leave the room, sir," said the Knight, with a motion of his hand to thebailiff; and the ruffian, whose office had familiarized him long withscenes of outrage and violence, shrank back ashamed and abashed, andslipped from the room without a word.

  "I believe, Mr. O'Reilly," continued Darcy, with an accent calm andunmoved,--"I believe our conference is now concluded. I will not insultyour own acuteness by saying how unnecessary I feel any reply to yourdemand."

  "In that case," said O'Reilly, "may I presume that there is no objectionto proceed with those legal formalities which, although begun without myknowledge, may be effected now as well as at any other period?"

  "Dar
cy, there is but one way of dealing with that gentleman--"

  "Bagenal, I must insist upon your leaving this matter solely with me."

  "Depend upon it, sir, your interests will not gain by your friend'scounsels," said O'Reilly, with an insolent sneer.

  "Such another remark from your lips," said Darcy, sternly, "would makeme follow them, if they went so far as--"

  "Throwing him neck and heels out of that window," broke in Daly; "for Iown to you it's the course I 'd have taken half an hour ago."

  "I wish you good morning, Mr. Darcy," said O'Reilly, addressing himfor the first time by the name of his family instead of his usualdesignation; and without vouchsafing a word to Daly, he retired from theroom.

  It was not until O'Reilly's carriage drove past the window that eitherDarcy or his friend uttered a syllable; they stood apparently lost inthought up to that moment, when the noise of wheels and the tramp ofhorses aroused them.

  "We must lose no time, Bagenal," said the Knight, hastily; "I cannotcount very far on that gentleman's delicacy or forbearance. Lady Eleanormust not be exposed to the indignities the law will permit him topractise towards us; we must, if possible, leave this to-night;" andso saying, he left the room to make arrangements in accordance with hisresolve.

  Bagenal Daly looked after him for a moment. "Poor fellow!" muttered he,"how manfully he bears it!" When a sudden flush that covered his cheekbespoke a rapid change of sentiment, and at the same instant he left theroom, and, crossing the hall and the courtyard, walked hastily towardsthe stables.

  "Saddle a horse for me, Carney, and as fast as may be."

  "Here's a mare ready this minute, sir; she was going out to take hergallop."

  "I'll give it, then," said Daly, as he buttoned up his coat; and then,breaking off a branch of the old willow that hung over the fountain,sprang in the saddle with an alertness that would not have disgraced ayouth of twenty.

  "There he goes," muttered the old huntsman, as he looked after him, "andthere is n't the man between this and Killy-begs can take as much outof a baste as himself. 'T is quiet enough the mare will be when he turnsher head into this yard again."

  Whatever Daly's purpose, it seemed one which brooked little delay, forno sooner was he on the sward than he pushed the mare to a fast gallop,and was seen sweeping along the lawn at a tremendous pace. In less thanten minutes he saw O'Reilly's carriage, as, in a rapid trot, the horsesadvanced along the level avenue, and almost the moment after, hehad stationed himself in the road, so as to prevent their proceedingfurther. The coachman, who knew him well, came to a stop at his signal,and before his master could ask the reason, Daly was beside the windowof the chariot.

  "I would wish a word with you, Mr. O'Reilly," said he, in a low, subduedvoice, so as to be inaudible to the sub-sheriff, who was seated besidehim. "You made use of an expression a few moments ago, which, if Iunderstood aright, convinces me I have unwittingly done you greatinjustice."

  O'Reilly, whose ashy cheek and affrighted air bespoke a heart but ill atease, made no reply, and Daly went on,--

  "You said, sir, that neither the time nor the place suited the noticeyou felt called upon to take of my remarks on your conduct. May I ask,as a very great favor, what time and what place will be more convenientto you? And I cannot better express my own sense of regret for a hastyexpression than by assuring you that I shall hold myself bound to be atyour service in both respects."

  "A hostile meeting, sir, is that your proposition?" said O'Reilly,aloud.

  "How admirably you read a riddle!" said Daly, laughing.

  "There, Mr. Jones!" cried O'Reilly, turning to his companion, "I callon you to witness the words,--a provocation to a duel offered by thisgentleman."

  "Not at all," rejoined Daly; "the provocation came from yourself,--atleast, you used a phrase which men with blood in their veins understandbut one way. My error--and I 'll not forgive myself in haste for it--wasthe belief that an upstart need not of necessity be a poltroon.--Driveon," cried he to the coachman, with a sneering laugh; "your master islooking pale." And, with these words, he turned his horse's head, andcantered slowly back towards the abbey.