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

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The Knight Of Gwynne, Vol. 2 (of 2) Page 9

by Charles James Lever


  CHAPTER IX. BOARDING-HOUSE CRITICISM.

  It was not until after the lapse of several days that Darcy's departurewas made known to the denizens of Port Ballintray.

  If the event was slow of announcement, they endeavored to compensate forthe tardiness of the tidings by the freedom of their commentary on allits possible and impossible reasons. There was not a casualty, in thewhole catalogue of human vicissitudes, unquoted; deaths, births, andmarriages were ransacked in newspapers; all sudden and unexpectedturns of fortune were well weighed, accidents and offences scannedwith cunning eyes, and the various paragraphs to which editorialmysteriousness gave an equivocal interpretation were commented on with aperseverance and an ingenuity worthy of a higher theme.

  It may be remarked that no class of persons are viewed moresuspiciously, or excite more sharp criticism from their neighbors,than those who, with evidently narrow means, prefer retirement andestrangement from the world to mixing in the small circle of some pettylocality. A hundred schemes are put in motion to ascertain by what rightsuch superiority is asserted,--why, and on what grounds, they affectto be better than their neighbors, and so on; the only offence all thewhile consisting of an isolation which cannot with truth imply any suchimputation.

  When the Knight of Gwynne found himself by an unexpected turn of fortunecondemned to a station so different from his previous life, he addressedhimself at once to the difficulties of his lot; and, well aware that allreserve on his part would be set down as the cloak of some deep mystery,he affected an air of easy cordiality with such of the boarding-houseparty as he ever met, and endeavored, by a tone of well-assumedfamiliarity, to avoid all detection of the difference between him andhis new associates.

  It was in this spirit that he admitted Mr. Dempsey to his acquaintance,and even asked him to his cottage. In this diplomacy he met with littleassistance from Lady Eleanor and his daughter; the former, from anatural coldness of manner and an instinctive horror of everything lowand underbred. Helen's perceptions of such things were just as acute,but, inheriting the gay and lively temperament of her father's house,she better liked to laugh at the absurdities of vulgar people thanindulge a mere sense of dislike to their society. Such allies were toodangerous to depend on, and hence the Knight conducted his plans unaidedand unsupported.

  Whether Mr. Dempsey was bought off by the flattering exception made inhis favor, and that he felt an implied superiority on being deemedtheir advocate, he certainly assumed that position in the circle of Mrs.Fumbally's household, and on the present occasion sustained his partwith a certain mysterious demeanor that imposed on many.

  "Well, he's gone, at all events!" said a thin old lady with a greenshade over a pair of greener eyes; "that can't be denied, I hope! Wentoff like a shot on Tuesday morning. Sandy M'Shane brought him intoColeraine, for the Dublin coach; and, by the same token, it was anoutside place he took--"

  "I beg your pardon, ma'am," interposed a fat little woman, with acholeric red face and a tremulous underlip,--she was an authoress in theprovincial papers, and occasionally invented her English as well as herincidents,--"it was the Derry mail he went by. Archy M'Clure trod on histoe, and asked pardon for it, just to get him into conversation; but heseemed very much dejected, and wouldn't interlocute."

  "Very strange indeed!" rejoined the lady of the shade, "because I had myinformation from Williams, the guard of the coach."

  "And I mine from Archy M'Clure himself."

  "And both were wrong," interposed Paul Dempsey, triumphantly.

  "It's not very polite to tell us so, Mr. Dempsey," said the thin oldlady, bridling.

  "Perhaps the politeness may equal the voracity," said the fat lady, whowas almost boiling over with wrath.

  "This Gwynne wasn't all right, depend upon it," interposed a certainlittle man in powder; "I have my own suspicions about him."

  "Well, now, Mr. Dunlop, what's your opinion? I'd like to hear it."

  "What does Mrs. M'Caudlish say?" rejoined the little gentleman,turning to the authoress,--for in the boarding-house they bothpresided judicially in all domestic inquisitions regarding conduct andcharacter,--"what does Mrs. M'Caudlish say?"

  "I prefer letting Mr. Dunlop expose himself before me."

  "The case is doubtful--dark--mysterious," said Dunlop, with a solemnpause after each word.

  "The more beyond my conjunctions," said the lady. "You remember what theyoung gentleman says in the Latin poet, 'Sum Davy, non sum Euripides.'"

  "I 'll tell you my opinion, then," said Mr. Dunlop, who was evidentlymollified by the classical allusion; and with firm and solemn gesture hecrossed over to where she sat, and whispered a few words in her ear.

  A slight scream, and a long-drawn "Oh!" was all the answer.

  "Upon my soul, I believe so," said Mr. Dunlop, thrusting both hands intothe furthest depths of his coat-pockets; "nay, more, I'll maintain it!"

  "I know what you are driving at," said Dempsey, laughing; "you thinkhe's the gauger that went off with Mrs. Murdoch of Ballyquirk--"

  "Mr. Dempsey! Mr. Dempsey! the ladies, sir! the ladies!" called out twoor three reproving voices from the male portion of the assembly; while,as if to corroborate the justice of the appeal, the thin lady drew hershade down two inches lower, and Mr. Dunlop's face became what painterscall "of a warm tint."

  "Oh! never talk of a rope where a man's father was hanged," mutteredPaul to himself, for he felt all the severity of his condemnation,though he knew that the point of law was against him.

  "There 's a rule in this establishment, Mr. Dempsey," said Mr. Dunlop,with all the gravity of a judge delivering a charge,--"a rule devisedto protect the purity, the innocence,"--here the ladies held down theirheads,--"the beauty--"

  "Yes, sir, and I will add, the helplessness of that sex--"

  "Paul 's right, by Jove!" hiccuped Jack Leonard, whose faculties, farimmersed in the effects of strong whiskey-and-water, suddenly flashedout into momentary intelligence,--"I say he's right! Who says thereverse?"

  "Oh, Captain Leonard! oh dear, Mr. Dunlop!" screamed three or fourfemale voices in concert, "don't let it proceed further."

  A faint and an anxious group were gathered around the little gentleman,whose warlike indications grew stronger as pacific entreaties increased.

  "He shall explain his words," said he, with a cautious glance to seethat his observation was not overheard; then, seeing that his adversaryhad relapsed into oblivion, he added, "he shall withdraw them;" andfinally, emboldened by success, he vociferated, "or' he shall eat them.I 'll teach him," said the now triumphant victor, "that it is not inMark Dunlop's presence ladies are to be insulted with impunity. Let theattempt be made by whom it will,--he may be a lieutenant on half pay oron full pay!--I tell him, I don't care a rush."

  "Of course not!" "Why would you?" and so on, were uttered in readychorus around him; and he resumed,--

  "And as for this Gwynne, or Quin, who lives up at 'The Corvy' yonder,for all the airs he gives himself, and his fine ladies too, my simplebelief is he 's a Government spy!"

  "Is that your opinion, sir?" said a deep and almost solemn voice; and atthe same instant Miss Daly appeared at the open window. She leaned herarm on the sill, and calmly stared at the now terrified speaker, whileshe repeated the words, "Is that your opinion, sir?"

  Before the surprise her words had excited subsided, she stood at thedoor of the apartment. She was dressed in her riding-habit, for she hadthat moment returned from an excursion along the coast.

  "Mr. Dunlop," said the lady, advancing towards him, "I never play theeavesdropper; but you spoke so loud, doubtless purposely, that nothingshort of deafness could escape hearing you. You were pleased to expressa belief respecting the position of a gentleman with whom I have thehonor to claim some friendship."

  "I always hold myself ready, madam, to render an account to anyindividual of whom I express an opinion,--to himself, personally, Imean."

  "Of course you do, sir. It is a very laudable habit," said she, dryly;"but in this
case--don't interrupt me--in the present case it cannotapply, because the person traduced is absent. Yes, sir, I saidtraduced."

  "Oh, madam, I must say the word would better suit one more able tosustain it. I shall take the liberty to withdraw." And so saying, hemoved towards the door; but Miss Daly interposed, and, by a gestureof her hand, in which she held a formidable horsewhip, gave a veryunmistakable sign that the passage was not free.

  "You 'll not go yet, sir. I have not done with you," said she, in avoice every accent of which vibrated in the little man's heart."You affect to regret, sir, that I am not of the sex that exactssatisfaction, as it is called; but I tell you, I come of a family thatnever gave long scores to a debt of honor. You have presumed--in acompany, certainly, where the hazard of contradiction was small--toasperse a gentleman of whom you know nothing,--not one single fact,--notone iota of his life, character, or fortune. You have dared to call himby words every letter of which would have left a welt on your shouldersif uttered in his hearing. Now, as I am certain he would pay any littledebts I might have perchance forgotten in leaving a place where I hadresided, so will I do likewise by him; and here, on this spot, and inthis fair company, I call upon you to unsay your falsehood, or--" Hereshe made one step forward, with an air and gesture that made Mr. Dunlopretire with a most comic alacrity. "Don't be afraid, sir," continuedshe, laughing. "My brother, Mr. Bagenal Daly, will arrive here soon. He's no new name to your ears. In any case, I promise you that whateveryou find objectionable in my proceedings towards you he will be mosthappy to sustain. Now, sir, the hand wants four minutes to six. If thehour strike before you call yourself a wanton, gratuitous calumniator, I'll flog you round the room."

  A cry of horror burst from the female portion of the assembly at athreat the utterance of which was really not less terrific than themeaning.

  "Such a spectacle," continued Miss Daly, sarcastically, "I shouldscruple to inflict on this fair company; but the taste that could findpleasure in witless, pointless slander may not, it is possible, disliketo see a little castigation. Now, sir, you have just one minute and aquarter."

  "I protest against this conduct, madam. I here declare--"

  146]

  "Declare nothing, sir, till you have avowed yourself by your real nameand character. If you cannot restrain your tongue, I 'll very soonconvince you that its consequences are far from agreeable. Is what youhave spoken false?"

  "There may come a heavy reckoning for all this, madam," said Dunlop,trembling between fear and passion.

  "I ask you again, and for the last time, are your words untrue? Verywell, sir. You held a commission in Germany, they say; and probably,as a military man, you may think it undignified to surrender, except oncompulsion."

  With these words Miss Daly advanced towards him with a firm anddetermined air, while a cry of horror arose through the room, and thefairer portion intrepidly threw themselves in front of their champion,while Dempsey and the others only restrained their laughter for fear ofpersonal consequences. Pushing fiercely on, Miss Daly was almost at hisside, when the door of the room was opened, and a deep and well-knownvoice called out to her,--

  "Maria, what the devil is all this?"

  "Oh, Bagenal," cried she, as she held out her hand, "I scarcely expectedyou before eight o'clock."

  "But in the name of everything ridiculous, what has happened? Were youabout to horsewhip this pleasant company?"

  "Only one of its members," said Miss Daly, coolly,--"a little gentlemanwho has thought proper to be more lavish of his calumny than hiscourage. I hand him over to you now; and, faith, though I don't thinkthat he had any fancy for me, he 'll gain by the exchange! You 'll findhim yonder," said she, pointing to a corner where already the majorityof the party were gathered together.

  Miss Daly was mistaken, however, for Mr. Dunlop had made his escapeduring the brief interchange of greetings between the brother andsister. "Come, Bagenal," said she, smiling, "it's all for the best. Ihave given him a lesson he 'll not readily forget,--had you been theteacher, he might not have lived to remember it."

  "What a place for _you!_" said Bagenal, as he threw his eyesuperciliously around the apartment and its occupants; then taking herarm within his own, he led her forth, and closed the door after them.

  Once more alone, Daly learned with surprise, not unmixed with sorrow,that his sister had never seen the Darcys, and save by a single call,when she left her name, had made no advances towards their acquaintance.She showed a degree of repugnance, too, to allude to the subject, andrather endeavored to dismiss it by saying shortly,--"Lady Eleanor is afine lady, and her daughter a wit What could there be in common betweenus?"

  "But for Darcy's sake?"

  "For _his_ sake I stayed away," rejoined she, hastily; "they wouldhave thought me a bore, and perhaps have told him as much. In a word,Bagenal, I did n't like it, and that's enough. Neither of us weretrained to put much constraint on our inclinations. I doubt if thelesson would be easily learned at our present time of life."

  Daly muttered some half-intelligible bitterness about female obstinacyand wrong-headedness, and walked slowly to and fro. "I must see Mauriceat once," said he, at length.

  "That will be no easy task; he left this for Dublin on Tuesday last."

  "And has not returned? When does he come back?"

  "His old butler, who brought me the news, says not for some weeks."

  "Confusion and misery!" exclaimed Daly, "was there ever anything soill-timed! And he's in Dublin?"

  "He went thither, but there would seem some mystery about his ultimatedestination; the old man binted at London."

  "London!" said he, with a heavy sigh. "It's now the 18th, and onSaturday she sails."

  "Who sails?" asked Miss Daly, with more of eagerness than she yetexhibited.

  "Oh, I forgot, Molly, I had n't told you, I 'm about to take avoyage,--not a very long one, but still distant enough to make me wishto say good-bye ere we separate. If God wills it, I shall be back earlyin the spring."

  "What new freak is this, Bagenal?" said she, almost sternly; "I thoughtthat time and the world's crosses might have taught you to care forquietness, if not for home."

  "Home!" repeated he, in an accent the sorrow of which sank into her veryheart; "when had I ever a home? I had a house and lands, and equipages,horses, and liveried servants,--all that wealth could command, or, myown reckless vanity could prompt,--but these did not make a home!"

  "You often promised we should have such one day, Bagenal," said she,tenderly, while she stole her hand within his; "you often told me thatthe time would come when we should enjoy poverty with a better gracethan ever we dispensed riches."

  "We surely are poor enough to make the trial now," said he, with abitterness of almost savage energy.

  "And if we are, Bagenal," replied she, "there is the more need to drawmore closely to each other; let us begin at once."

  "Not yet, Molly, not yet," said he, passing his hand across his eyes. "Iwould grasp such a refuge as eagerly as yourself, for," added he, withdeep emotion, "I am to the full as weary; but I cannot do it yet."

  Miss Daly knew her brother's temper too long and too well either tooffer a continued opposition to any strongly expressed resolve, or toquestion him about a subject on which he showed any desire of reserve.

  "Have you no Dublin news for me?" she said, as if willing to suggestsome less touching subject for conversation.

  "No, Molly; Dublin is deserted. The few who still linger in town seemonly half awake to the new condition of events. The Government party areaway to England; they feel, doubtless, bound in honor to dispensetheir gold in the land it came from; and the Patriots--Heaven bless themark!--they look as rueful as if they began to suspect that Patriotismwas too dear a luxury after all."

  "And this burning of Newgate,-what did it mean? Was there, as thenewspaper makes out, anything like a political plot connected with it?"

  "Nothing of the kind, Molly. The whole affair was contrived among theprisoners. Freney, the well
-known highwayman, was in the jail, and,although not tried, his conviction was certain."

  "And they say he has escaped. Can it be possible that some persons ofinfluence, as the journals hint, actually interested themselves for theescape of a man like this?"

  "Everything is possible in a state of society like ours, Molly."

  "But a highwayman--a robber--a fellow that made the roads unsafe totravel!"

  "All true," said Daly, laughing. "Nobody ever kept a hawk for asinging-bird; but he 's a bold villain to pounce upon another."

  "I like not such appliances; they scarcely serve a good name, and theymake a bad one worse."

  "I'm quite of your mind, Molly," said Daly, thoughtfully; "and if honestmen were plenty, he would be but a fool who held any dealings with theknaves. But here comes the car to convey me to 'The Corvy.' I will makea hasty visit to Lady Eleanor, and be back with you by supper-time."

 

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