The Absentee
Page 31
Ogh, it's I driv 'em well; and we all got to the great gate of the park before sunset, and as fine an evening as ever you see; with the sun shining on the tops of the trees, as the ladies noticed; the leaves changed, but not dropped, though so late in the season. I believe the leaves knew what they were about, and kept on, on purpose to welcome them; and the birds were singing, and I stopped whistling, that they might hear them; but sorrow bit could they hear when they got to the park gate, for there was such a crowd, and such a shout, as you never see—and they had the horses off every carriage entirely, and drew'em home, with, blessings, through the park. And, God bless 'em! when they got out, they didn't go shut themselves up in the great drawing-room, but went straight out to the TIRrass, to satisfy the eyes and hearts that followed them. My lady LANING on my young lord, and Miss Grace Nugent that was, the beautifullest angel that ever you set eyes on, with the finest complexion and sweetest of smiles, LANING upon the ould lord's arm, who had his hat off, bowing to all, and noticing the old tenants as he passed by name. Oh, there was great gladness and tears in the midst; for joy I could scarce keep from myself.
After a turn or two upon the TIRrass, my Lord Colambre QUIT his mother's arm for a minute, and he come to the edge of the slope, and looked down and through all the crowd for some one.
'Is it the widow O'Neill, my lord?' says I; 'she's yonder, with the spectacles on her nose, betwixt her son and daughter, as usual.'
Then my lord beckoned, and they did not know which of the TREE would stir; and then he gave TREE beckons with his own finger, and they all TREE came fast enough to the bottom of the slope forenent my lord; and he went down and helped the widow up (Oh, he's the true jantleman), and brought 'em all TREE up on the TIRrass, to my lady and Miss Nugent; and I was up close after, that I might hear, which wasn't manners, but I couldn't help it. So what he said I don't well know, for I could not get near enough, after all. But I saw my lady smile very kind, and take the widow O'Neill by the hand, and then my Lord Colambre 'TRODUCED Grace to Miss Nugent, and there was the word NAMESAKE, and something about a check curtains; but, whatever It was, they was all greatly pleased; then my Lord Colambre turned and looked for Brian, who had fell back, and took him with some commendation to my lord his father. And my lord the master said, which I didn't know till after, that they should have their house and farm at the OULD rent; and at the surprise, the widow dropped down dead; and there was a cry as for ten BERRINGS. 'Be qui'te,' says I, 'she's only kilt for joy;' and I went and lift her up, for her son had no more strength that minute than the child new born; and Grace trembled like a leaf, as white as the sheet, but not long, for the mother came to, and was as well as ever when I brought some water, which Miss Nugent handed to her with her own hand.
'That was always pretty and good, said the widow, laying her hand upon Miss Nugent, 'and kind and good to me and mine.'
That minute there was music from below. The blind harper, O'Neill, with his harp, that struck up 'Gracey Nugent.'
And that finished, and my Lord Colambre smiling, with the tears standing in his eyes too, and the OULD lord quite wiping his, I ran to the TIRrass brink to bid O'Neill play it again; but as I run, I thought I heard a voice call Larry.
'Who calls Larry?' says I.
'My Lord Colambre calls you, Larry,' says all at once; and four takes me by the shoulders and spins me round. 'There's my young lord calling you, Larry—run for your life.'
So I run back for my life, and walked respectful, with my hat in my hand, when I got near.
'Put on your hat, my father desires it, says my Lord Colambre. The ould lord made a sign to that purpose, but was too full to speak. 'Where's your father?' continues my young lord.—' He's very ould, my lord,' says I. 'I didn't ask you how ould he was,' says he; 'but where is he?'—'He's behind the crowd below, on account of his infirmities; he couldn't walk so fast as the rest, my lord,' says I; 'but his heart is with you, if not his body. 'I must have his body too, so bring him bodily before us; and this shall be your warrant for so doing,' said my lord, joking; for he knows the NATUR of us, Paddy, and how we love a joke in our hearts, as well as if he had lived all his life in Ireland; and by the same token will, for that rason, do what he pleases with us, and more maybe than a man twice as good, that never would smile on us.
But I'm telling you of my father. 'I've a warrant for you, father,' says I; 'and must have you bodily before the justice, and my lord chief-justice.' So he changed colour a bit at first; but he saw me smile. 'And I've done no sin,' said he; 'and, Larry, you may lead me now, as you led me all my life.'
And up the slope he went with me as light as fifteen; and, when we got up, my Lord Clonbrony said, 'I am sorry an old tenant, and a good old tenant, as I hear you were, should have been turned out of your farm.'
'Don't fret, it's no great matter, my lord,' said my father. 'I shall be soon out of the way; but if you would be so kind to speak a word for my boy here, and that I could afford, while the life is in me, bring my other boy back out of banishment—'
'Then,' says my Lord Clonbrony, 'I'll give you and your sons three lives, or thirty-one years, from this day, of your former farm. Return to it when you please.' 'And,' added my Lord Colambre, 'the flaggers, I hope, will be soon banished.' Oh, how could I thank him—not a word could I proffer—but I know I clasped my two hands, and prayed for him inwardly. And my father was dropping down on his knees, but the master would not let him; and OBSARVED, that posture should only be for his God. And, sure enough, in that posture, when he was out of sight, we did pray for him that night, and will all our days.
But, before we quit his presence, he called me back, and bid me write to my brother, and bring you back, if you've no objections, to your own country.
So come, my dear Pat, and make no delay, for joy's not joy complAte till you're in it—my father sends his blessing, and Peggy her love, The family entirely is to settle for good in Ireland, and there was in the castle yard last night a bonfire made by my lord's orders of the ould yellow damask furniture, to plase my lady, my lord says. And the drawing-room, the butler was telling me, is new hung; and the chairs with velvet as white as snow, and shaded over with natural flowers, by Miss Nugent. Oh! how I hope what I guess will come true, and I've rason to believe it will, for I dreamt in my bed last night it did. But keep yourself to yourself—that Miss Nugent (who is no more Miss Nugent, they say, but Miss Reynolds, and has a new-found grandfather, and is a big heiress, which she did not want in my eyes, nor in my young lord's), I've a notion will be sometime, and maybe sooner than is expected, my Lady Viscountess Colambre—so haste to the wedding. And there's another thing: they say the rich ould grandfather's coming over;—and another thing, Pat, you would not be out of the fashion—and you see it's growing the fashion not to be an Absentee.—
Your loving brother,
LARRY BRADY.
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