CHAPTER XVIII. A CONVIVIAL EVENING
While Tate busied himself in laying the table, Mr. Nickie, withbent brows and folded arms, passed up and down the apartments, stillruminating on the affront so openly passed upon him, and cogitatinghow best to avenge it. As passing and repassing he cast his eyes on thepreparations, he halted suddenly, and said, "Lay another cover here."Tate stood, uncertain whether he had heard aright the words, when Nickierepeated, "Don't you hear me? I said lay another cover. The gentlemanwill sup here."
"Oh! indeed," exclaimed Tate, as, opening his eyes to the fullestextent, he appeared to admit a new light upon his brain; "I beg pardon,sir, I was thinking that this gentleman might like to sup with the othergentleman, out in the kitchen beyond!"
"I said he 'd sup here," said Nickie, vehemently, for he felt the tauntin all its bitterness.
"I say, old fellow," said M'Dermot in Tate's ear, "you needn't besparin' of the liquor. Give us the best you have, and plenty of it. Itis all the same to yer master, you know, in a few days. I was saying,sir," said he to Nickie, who, overhearing him, turned sharply round,-"Iwas saying, sir, that he might as well give up the ould bin with thecobweb over it. It's the creditors suffers now, and we've many a way ofdoin' a civil turn."
"His mistress has shut the door on that," said Nickie, savagely, "andshe may take the consequences."
"Oh, never mind him," whispered M'Dermot to Tate; "he 's thebest-hearted crayture that ever broke bread, but passionate, d' ye mind,passionate."
Poor Tate, who had suddenly become alive to the characters and objectsof his quests, was now aware that his mistress's refusal to admit thechief might possibly be productive of very disastrous consequences;for, like all low Irishmen, he had a very ample notion of the elasticcharacter of the law, and thought that its pains and penalties wereentirely at the option of him who executed it.
"Her Ladyship never liked to see much company," said he, apologetically.
"Well, maybe so," rejoined M'Dennot, "but in a quiet homely sort of away, sure she need n't have refused Mr. Anthony; little she knows, there's not the like of him for stories about the Court of Conscience and theSessions."
"I don't doubt it," exclaimed Tate, who, in assenting, felt prettycertain that his fascinations would scarcely have met appreciation inthe society of his mistress and her daughter.
"And if ye heerd him sing 'Hobson's Choice,' with a new verse of his ownat the end!"
Tate threw a full expression of wondering admiration into his features,and went on with his arrangements in silence.
"Does he know anything of Dempsey, do you think?" said Nickie, in awhisper to his follower.
"Not he," muttered the other, scornfully; "the crayture seems half anat'ral." Then, in a voice pitched purposely loud, he said, "Do youhappen to know one Dempsey in these parts?"
"Paul Dempsey?" added Nickie.
"A little, short man, with a turned-up nose, that walks with hisshoulders far back and his hands spread out? Ay, I know him well; hedined here one day with the master, and sure enough he made the companylaugh hearty!"
"I 'd be glad to meet him, if he 's as pleasant as you say," saidNickie, slyly.
"There's nothing easier, then," said Tate; "since the boarding-house isclosed there at Ballintray, he's up in Coleraine for the winter. I hearhe waits for the Dublin mail, at M'Grotty's door, every evening, to seethe passengers, and that he has a peep at the way-bill before the agenthimself."
"Has he so many acquaintances that he is always on the look out forone?"
"Faix, if they'd let him," cried Tate, laughing, "I believe he 'd knowevery man, woman, and child in Ireland. For curiosity, he beats all everI seen."
As Tate spoke, a sudden draught of wind seemed to penetrate thechamber,--at least the canoe and its party shook perceptibly.
"We'll have a rare night of it," said Nickie, drawing nearer to thefire. Then resuming, added, "And you say I'll have no difficulty to findhim?"
"Not the least, bedad! It would be far harder to escape him, from allI hear. He watches the coach, and never leaves it till he sees the foreboot and the hind one empty; not only looking the passengers in theface, but tumbling over the luggage, reading all the names, and wherethey 're going. Oh, he's a wonderful man for knowledge!"
"Indeed," said Nickie, with a look of attention to draw on the garrulityof the old man.
"I've reason to remember it well," said Tate, putting both hands to hisloins. "It was the day he dined here I got the rheumatiz in the small ofmy back. When I went to open the gate without there for him, he kept metalking for three quarters of an hour in the teeth of an east wind thatwould shave a goat,--asking me about the master and the mistress andMiss Helen, ay, and even about myself at last,--if I had any brothers,and what their names was, and who was Mister Daly, and whether he didn't keep a club-house. By my conscience, it's well for him ould Bagenaldid n't hear him!"
A clattering sound from the canoe suddenly interrupted Tate's narrative;he stopped short, and muttered, in a tone of unfeigned terror,--
"That's the way always,-may I never see glory! ye can't speak of him buthe hears ye!"
A rude laugh from Nickie, chorused still more coarsely by M'Dermot,arrested Tate's loquacity, and he finished his arrangements withoutspeaking, save in a few broken sentences.
If Mr. Nickie could have been conciliated by material enjoyments, hemight decidedly have confessed that the preparations for his comfortwere ample and hospitable. A hot supper diffused its savory steam on atable where decanters and flasks of wine of different sorts and sizesattested that the more convivial elements of a feast were not forgotten.Good humor was, however, not to be restored by such amends. He waswounded in his self-love, outraged in his vanity; and he sat down ina dogged silence to the meal, a perfect contrast in appearance to thecoarse delight of his subordinate.
While Tate remained to wait on them, Nickie's manner and bearing wereunchanged. A sullen, sulky expression sat on features which, even whenat the best, conveyed little better than a look of shrewd keenness;nor could the appetite with which he eat suggest a passing ray ofsatisfaction to his face.
"I am glad we are rid of that old fellow at last," said he, as the doorclosed upon Tate. "Whether fool or knave, I saw what he was at; he wouldhave been disrespectful if he dared."
"I did n't mind him much, sir," said M'Dermot, honestly confessing thatthe good cheer had absorbed his undivided attention.
"I did, then; I saw his eyes fixed effectually on us,--on youparticularly. I thought he would have laughed outright when you helpedyourself to the entire duck."
Nickie spoke this with an honest severity, meant to express hisdiscontent with his companion fully as much as with the old butler.
"Well, it was an excellent supper, anyhow," said M'Dermot, taking thebottle which Nickie pushed towards him somewhat rudely; "and here 'swishing health and happiness and long life to ye, Mr. Anthony. May yealways have as plentiful a board, and better company round it."
There was a fawning humility in the fellow's manner that seemed togratify the other, for he nodded a return to the sentiment, and, after abrief pause, said,--"The servants in these grand houses,--and that oldfellow, you may remark, was with the Darcys when they were greatpeople,--they give themselves airs to everybody they think below therank of their master."
"Faix, they might behave better to _you_, Mr. Anthony," said M'Dermot.
"Well, they're run their course now," said Nickie, not heeding theremark. "Both master and man have had their day. I 've seen moreexecutions on property in the last six months than ever I did in all mylife before. Creditors won't wait now as they used to do. No influencenow to make gaugers and tide-waiters and militia officers; no privilegeof Parliament to save them from arrest!"
"My blessings on them for that, anyhow," said M'Dermot, finishing hisglass. "The Union 's a fine thing."
"The fellows that got the bribes--and, to be sure, there was plenty ofmoney going--won't stay to spend it in Ireland; devil a one will rema
inhere, but those that are run out and ruined."
"Bad luck to it for a Bill!" said M'Dermot, who felt obliged tosacrifice his consistency in his desire to concur with each newsentiment of his chief.
"The very wine we're drinking, maybe, was given for a vote. Pitt knewwell how to catch them."
"Success attend him!" chimed in M'Dermot.
"And just think of them now," continued Nickie, whose ruminations werenever interrupted by the running commentary,--"just think of them!selling the country, trade, prosperity, everything, for a few hundredpounds."
"The blackguards!"
"Some, to be sure, made a fine thing out of it. Not like old Darcy here;they were early in the market, and got both rank and money too."
"Ay, that was doin' it in style!" exclaimed Mike, who expressed himselfthis time somewhat equivocally, for safety's sake.
"There 's no denying it, Castlereagh was a clever fellow!"
"The best man ever I seen--I don't care who the other is."
"He knew when to bid, and when to draw back; never became too pressing,but never let any one feel himself neglected; watched his opportunitiesslyly, and when the time came, pounced down like a hawk on his victim."
"Oh, the thieves' breed! What a hard heart he had!" muttered M'Dermot,perfectly regardless of whom he was speaking.
Thus did Mr. Nickie ramble on, in the popular cant, over the subjectof the day; for although the Union was now carried, and itsconsequences--whatever they might be--so far inevitable, the men whoseinfluence effected the measure were still before the bar of publicopinion,--an ordeal not a whit more just and discriminating than itusually is. While the current of these reminiscences ran on, varied bysome anecdote here or some observation there, both master and mandrank deeply. So long as good liquor abounded, Mr. M'Dermot could havelistened with pleasure, even to a less entertaining companion; and asfor Nickie, he felt a vulgar pride in discussing, familiarly and byname, the men of rank and station who took a leading part in Irishpolitics. The pamphlets and newspapers of the day had made so manyprivate histories public, had unveiled so many family circumstancesbefore the eyes of the world, that his dissertations had all the seemingauthenticity of personal knowledge.
It was at the close of a rather violent denunciation of the"Traitors"--as the Government party was ever called--that Nickie,striking the table with his fist, called on M'Dermot to sing.
"I say, Mac," cried he, with a faltering tongue, and eyes red andbleared from drink,--"the old lady--wouldn't accept my society--she didn't think--An-tho-ny Nickie, Esquire--good enough--to sit down--at hertable. Let us show her what she has lost, my boy. Give her 'Bob Uniake'sBoots' or 'The Major's Prayer.'"
"Or what d' ye think of the new ballad to Lord Castlereagh, sir?"suggested M'Dermot, modestly. "It was the last thing Rhoudlim had when Ileft town."
"Is it good?" hiccuped Nickie.
"If ye heerd Rhoudlim--"
"D----n Rhoudlim!--she used to sing that song Parsons made on theattorneys. Parsons never liked us, Mac. You know what he said to Holmes,who went to him for a subscription of five shillings, to help to buryMat Costegan. 'Was n't he an attorney?' says Parsons. 'He was,' says theother. 'Well, here 's a pound,' says he; 'take it and bury four!'"
"Oh, by my conscience, that was mighty nate!" said M'Dermot, whocompletely forgot himself.
Nickie frowned savagely at his companion, and for a moment seemed aboutto express his anger more palpably, when he suddenly drank off hisglass, and said, "Well, the song,-let us have it now."
"I 'm afraid--I don't know more than a verse here and there," said Mac,bashfully stroking down his hair, and mincing his words; "but with thehelp of a chorus--"
"Trust me for that," cried Nickie, who now drank glass after glasswithout stopping; "I'm always ready for a song." So saying he burst outinto a half-lachryinose chant,--
"An old maid had a roguish eye! And she was call'd the great Kamshoodera! Rich was she and poor was I! Fol de dol de die do!
"I forget the rest, Mickie, but it goes on about a Nabob and a bear,and--a--what's this ye call it, a pottle of green gooseberries that LordClangoff sold to Mrs. Kelfoyle."
"To be sure; I remember it well," said Mac, humoring the drunkenlucubrations; "but my chant is twice as aisy to sing,--the air is the'Black Joke;' and any one can chorus."
"Well, open the proceedings," hiccuped Nickie; "state the case."
And thus encouraged, Mr. M'Dermot cleared his throat, and in a voiceloud and coarse enough to be heard above the howling din, began:--
"Though many a mile he's from Erin away, Here 's health and long life to my Lord Castlereagh, With his bag full of guineas so bright! 'T was he that made Bishops and Deans by the score, And Peers, of the fashion of Lord Donoughmore! And a Colonel of horse of our friend Billy Lake, And Wallincourt a Lord,--t'other day but Joe Blake, With his bag full of guineas so bright.
"Come Beresford, Bingham, Luke Fox, and Tyrone, Come Kearney, Bob Johnston, and Arthur Malone, With your bag full of guineas so bright; Lord Charles Fitzgerald and Kit Fortescue, And Henry Deane Grady,--we 'll not forget you, Come Cuffe, Isaac Corry, and General Dunne, And you Jemmy Vandeleur,--come every one, With your bag full of guineas so bright.
Come Talbot and Townsend, Come Toler and Trench, Tho' made for the gallows, ye 're now on the Bench, With your bag full of guineas so bright But if ever again this black list I 'll begin, The first name I 'll take is the ould Knight of Gwynne, Who, robb'd of his property, stripped of his pelf, Would be glad to see Erin as poor as himself. With no bag full of guineas so bright.
"If the Parliament 's gone, and the world it has scoffed us, What a blessing to think that we 've Tottenham Loftus, With his bag full of guineas so bright. Oh, what consolation through every disaster, To know that your Lordship is made our Postmaster, And your uncle a Bishop, your aunt--but why mention, Two thousand a year, 'of a long service pension' Of a bag full of guineas so bright.
"But what is the change, since your Lordship appears! You found us all Paupers, you left us all Peers, With your bag full of guineas so bright. Not a man in the island, however he boast, But has a good reason to fill to the toast,-- From Cork to the Causeway, from Howth to Clue Bay, A health and long life to my Lord Castlereagh, With his bag full of guineas so bright."
The boisterous accompaniment by which Mr. Nickie testified hissatisfaction at the early verses had gradually subsided into a lowdroning sound, which at length, towards the conclusion, lapsed into aprolonged heavy snore. "Fast!" exclaimed M'Dermot, holding the candleclose to his eyes. "Fast!" Then taking up the decanter, he added, "Andif ye had gone off before, it would have been no great harm.Ye never had the bottle out of yer grip for the last hour and half!" Heheaped some wood on the grate, refilled his glass, and then disposinghimself so as to usurp a very large share of the blazing fire, preparedto follow the good example of his chief. Long habit had made anarm-chair to the full as comfortable as a bed to the worthy functionary,and his arrangements were scarcely completed, when his nose announced bya deep sound that he was a wanderer in the land of dreams.
Poor Mr. Dempsey--for if the reader may have forgotten him all thiswhile, we must not--listened long and watchfully to the heavy notes, norwas it without considerable fear that he ventured to unveil his head andtake a peep under Daly's arm at the sleepers. Reassured by the seemingheaviness of the slumberers, he dared a step farther, and at last seatedhimself bolt upright in the canoe, glad to relieve his cramped-up legs,even by this momentary change of position. So cautious were all hismovements, so still and noiseless every gesture, that had there been awaking eye to mark him, it would have been hard enough to distinguishbetween his figure and those of his inanimate neighbors.
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The deep and heavy breathing of the sleepers was the only sound to beheard; they snored as if it were a contest betw
een them; still itwas long before Dempsey could summon courage enough to issue from hishiding-place, and with stealthy steps approach the table. Cautiouslylifting the candle, he first held it to the face of one and then of theother of the sleepers. His next move was to inspect the supper-table,where, whatever the former abundance, nothing remained save the veriestfragments: the bottles too were empty, and poor Dempsey shook his headmournfully as he poured out and drank the last half-glass of sherry in adecanter. This done, he stood for a few minutes reflecting what stephe should take next. A sudden change of position of Nickie startled himfrom these deliberations, and Dempsey cowered down beneath the table interror. Scarcely daring to breathe, Paul waited while the sleeper movedfrom side to side, muttering some short and broken words; at length heseemed to have settled himself to his satisfaction, for so his prolongedrespiration bespoke. Just as he had turned for the last time, a heavyroll of papers fell from his pocket to the floor. Dempsey eyed thepacket with a greedy look, but did not dare to reach his hand towardsit, till well assured that the step was safe.
Taking a candle from the table, Paul reseated himself on the floor, andopened a large roll of documents tied with red tape; the very first heunrolled seemed to arrest his attention strongly, and although passingon to the examination of the remainder, he more than once recurred toit, till at length creeping stealthily towards the fire, he placed itamong the burning embers, and stirred and poked until it became a meremass of blackened leaves.
"There," muttered he, "Paul Dempsey 's his own man again. And now whatcan he do for his friends? Ha, ha! 'Execution against Effects of BagenalDaly, Esq.,'" said he, reading half aloud; "and this lengthy affairhere, 'Instructions to A. N. relative to the enclosed'-let us see whatthat may be." And so saying, he opened the scroll; a bright flash offlame burst out from among the slumbering embers, and ere it died awayPaul read a few lines of the paper. "What scoundrels!" muttered he,as he wiped the perspiration from his forehead, for already hadhonest Paul's feelings excited him to the utmost. The flame was againflickering, in another moment it would be out, when, stealing forth hishand, he placed an open sheet upon it, and then, as the blaze caught, helaid the entire bundle of papers on the top, and watched them till theywere reduced to ashes.
"Maybe it's a felony--I'm sure it's a misdemeanor at least--what I 'vedone now," muttered he; "but there was no resisting it. I wish I thoughtit was no heavier crime to do the same by these worthy gentlemen here."
Indeed, for a second or two, Paul's hesitation seemed very considerable.Fear, or something higher in principle, got the victory at length, andafter a long silence he said,--
"Well, I 'll not harm them." And with this benevolent sentiment he stoodup, and detaching Darcy's portrait from the wall, thrust it into hiscapacious pocket. This done, he threw another glance over the table,lest some unseen decanter might still remain; but no, except a water-jugof pure element, nothing remained.
"Good-night, and pleasant dreams t'ye both," muttered Paul, as, blowingout one candle, he took the other, and slipped, without the slightestnoise, from the room.
The Knight Of Gwynne, Vol. 2 (of 2) Page 18