The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. I (of II)

by Charles James Lever

  CHAPTER XXI. AN AWKWARD VISITOR

  It is a singularly impressive sensation, and one, too, of which evenfrequency will scarcely diminish the effect, to pass from the busystreets and moving population of Dublin, and enter the quiet courts ofthe University. The suddenness of the change is most striking, and youpass at once from all the bustling interests of life--its cares andambitions, its pursuits of wealth and pleasure--into the stillness of acloister. Scarcely within the massive gates, and the noise of the greatcapital is hushed and subdued, its sounds seem to come from afar, andin their place is an unbroken calm, or the more solemn echoes of itsvaulted roofs.

  In a corner of the Old Square, and in a building almost entirelyoccupied by the University authorities, and whose stairs had seldomechoed beneath less reverend footsteps than those of deans and bursars,were the chambers of Joe Nelligan. He had obtained them in this peculiarlocality as a special favor from "the Board," as eminently suited tohis habits of study and seclusion; for his was indeed a life oflabor,--labor, hard, unremitting, and unbroken! Dreary as was the aspectof the spot, it was one dear to the heart of him who occupied it. If ithad been the cell wherein he had passed nights of severest toil and daysof intense effort, so had it been the calm retreat into which he hadretired as a sanctuary, and at times the scene of the hallowed joy hefelt when success had crowned all his labors. Thither had he bent hissteps at nightfall, as to a home; thence had he written the few lineswhich more than once announced his triumph to his father.

  Within those halls had he experienced all that he had ever tasted ofsuccessful ambition, and in the depths of that old chair had he dreamedaway all the visions of a glorious future. The room in which he sat wasa large and lofty one, lighted by two windows deeply set in the wall.Its sides were lined with book-shelves, and books littered the tablesand even the floor,--for it was one of his caprices to read as he layat full length, either on the ground or a sofa,--and the paper and penswere scattered about in different quarters, as accident suggested. Theonly thing like ornament to be seen was a lithographic print of Cro'Martin Castle over the fireplace,--a strange exception would it seem,but traceable, perhaps, to some remote scene of boyish admiration forwhat had first awakened in him a feeling of awe and admiration; andthere it now remained, time-worn and discolored, perhaps unnoticed, orlooked on with very different emotions. Ay! these pictures are terriblelandmarks of our thoughts! I speak not of such as appeal to our heartsby the features we loved, the eyes into whose depths we have gazed, thelips on whose accents we have hung entranced, but even when they tracethe outlines of some spot well known to us in boyhood,--some scene oflong, long years ago. It is not alone that the "Then" and "Now" standout in strongest contrast, that what we were and what we are are injuxtaposition, but that whole memories of what we once hoped to be comerushing over us, and all the spirit-stirring emotions of early ambitionsmingle themselves with the stern realities of the present. And, afterall, what success in life, however great and seemingly unexpected it maybe, ever equals one of the glorious daydreams of our boyish ambition,in which there comes no alloy of broken health, wasted energies, andexhausted spirits? or, far worse again, the envious jealousy of thosewe once deemed friends, and who, had we lived obscurely, still mightbe such? Student life is essentially imaginative. The very division oftime, the objects which have value to a student's eyes, the seclusionin which he lives, the tranquil frame of mind coexistent with highlystrained faculties, all tend to make his intervals of repose periods ofday-dream and revery. It is not improbable that these periods are thefitting form of relaxation for overtaxed minds, and that the Imaginationis the soothing influence that repairs the wear and tear of Reason.

  The peculiar circumstances of young Nelligan's position in life hadalmost totally estranged him from others. The constraint that attachesto a very bashful temperament had suggested to him a certain cold andreserved manner, that some took for pride, and many were repelled fromhis intimacy by this seeming haughtiness. The unhappy course of whathad been his first friendship--for such was it with Massingbred--hadrendered him more distrustful than ever of himself, and more firmlyconvinced that to men born as he had been the world imposes a barrierthat only is passable by the highest and greatest success. It is true,his father's letter of explanation assuaged the poignancy of his sorrow;he saw that Massingbred had proceeded under a misconception, and hadbelieved himself the aggrieved individual; but all these considerationscould not obliterate the fact that an insult to his social station wasthe vengeance adopted by him, and that Massingbred saw no more gallingoutrage in his power than to reflect upon his rank in life.

  There are men who have a rugged pride in contrasting what they werewith what they are. Their self-love finds an intense pleasure incontemplating difficulties overcome, obstacles surmounted, and a goalwon, all by their own unaided efforts, and to such the very obscurity oftheir origin is a source of boastful exultation. Such men are, however,always found in the ranks of those whose success is wealth. Wherever thetriumphs are those rewarded by station, or the distinctions conferredon intellectual superiority, this vainglorious sentiment is unknown.An inborn refinement rejects such coarse pleasure, just as theirvery habits of life derive no enjoyment from the display and splendorreflected by riches.

  Joe Nelligan felt his lowly station most acutely, because he saw in it adisqualification for that assured and steady temperament which can makemost of success. He would have given half of all he might possess in theworld for even so much of birth as might exempt him from a sneer.The painful sensitiveness that never rested nor slept--that made himeternally on the watch lest some covert allusion might be made tohim--was a severe suffering; and far from decreasing, it seemed to growwith him as he became older, and helped mainly to withdraw him furtherfrom the world.

  No error is more common than for bashful men to believe that they areunpopular in society, and that the world "will none of them." Theyinterpret their own sense of difficulty as a feeling of dislike inothers, and retire to their solitudes convinced that these are theirfitting dwelling-places. To this unpalatable conviction was JosephNelligan now come; and as he entered his chambers, and closed the heavydoor behind him, came the thought: "Here at least no mortificationscan reach me. These old books are my truest and best of friends, and intheir intercourse there is neither present pain nor future humiliation!"

  It was on a dark and dreary day in winter, and in that cheerless hourbefore the closing in of night, that Joseph sat thus in his solitaryhome. The sound of carriage-wheels and the sharp tramp of horses'feet--a rare event in these silent courts--slightly aroused him from arevery; but too indolent to go to the window, he merely raised his headto listen; and now a loud knock shook the outer door of his chambers.With a strange sense of perturbation at this unwonted summons, he aroseand opened it.

  "The Chief Secretary begs to know if Mr. Nelligan is at home?" said awell-powdered footman, in a plain but handsome livery.

  "Yes; I am the person," said Joseph, with a diffidence strongly incontrast with the composure of the other; and while he yet stood,door in hand, the steps of the carriage were let down, and a tallvenerable-looking man, somewhat past the prime of life, descended andapproached him.

  "I must be my own introducer, Mr. Nelligan," said he; "my name isMassingbred."

  With considerable confusion of manner, and in all that hurry in whichbashful men seek to hide their awkwardness, Joseph ushered his visitorinto his dimly lighted chamber.

  Colonel Massingbred, with all the staid composure of a very quietdemeanor, had quite sufficient tact to see that he was in the companyof one little versed in the world, and, as soon as he took his seat,proceeded to explain the reason of his visit.

  "My son has told me of the great pleasure and profit he has derived fromknowing you, sir," said he; "he has also informed me that a slight andpurely casual event interrupted the friendship that existed between you;and although unable himself to tender personally to you at this momentall his regrets on the subject, he has charged me to b
e his interpreter,and express his deep sorrow for what has occurred, and his hope that,after this avowal, it may never be again thought of by either of you."

  "There was a misunderstanding,--a fault on both sides. I was wrong inthe first instance," said Nelligan, faltering and stammering at everyword.

  "Mr. Nelligan is in a position to be generous," said the Colonel,blandly, "and he cannot better show the quality than by accepting afrank and full apology for a mere mistake. May I trust," continuedhe,--but with that slight change of tone that denoted a change oftopic,--"that you have somewhat abated those habits of severe study youhave hitherto pursued? Jack is really uneasy on that score, and wiselyremarks that great talents should be spared the penalty of great labor."

  "I am not reading now. I have read very little of late," said Joseph,diffidently.

  "I can imagine what that means," said the Colonel, smiling. "Mr.Nelligan's relaxations would be the hard labor of less zealous students;but I will also say that upon other grounds this must be done with moreconsideration. The public interests, Mr. Nelligan,--the country, towhose service you will one day be called on to contribute those highabilities,--will not be satisfied to learn that their exercise shouldhave been impaired by over-effort in youth."

  "You overrate me much, sir. I fear that you have been misled both as tomy capacity and my objects."

  "Your capacity is matter of notoriety, Mr. Nelligan! your objects may beas high as any ambition can desire. But perhaps it is obtrusive in oneso new to your acquaintance to venture on these topics; if so, prayforgive me, and set it down to the error I have fallen into of fancyingthat I know you as well personally as I do by reputation and character."

  Before Nelligan could summon words to reply to this complimentaryspeech, the door of his room was flung suddenly open, and a short,thickset figure, shrouded in a coarse shawl and a greatcoat, rushedtowards him, exclaiming in a rich brogue,--

  "Here I am, body and bones; just off the coach, and straight to yourquarters."

  "What! Mr. Crow; is it possible?" cried Nelligan, in some confusion.

  "Just himself, and no other," replied the artist, disengaging himselffrom his extra coverings. "When you said to me, 'Come and see me whenyou visit Dublin,' I said to myself, 'There 's a trump, and I 'll do it;'and so here I am."

  "You left the country yesterday. Did you bring me any letters?" askedNelligan; but in the uncertain tone of a man who talked merely to saysomething.

  "Not a line,--not a word. Your father was over head and ears at workthis week back about the election, and it was only the night before lastit was over."

  "And is it over?" asked Nelligan, eagerly.

  "To be sure it is. Young Massingbred is in, and a nice business it is."

  "Let me inform you, Mr. Crow, before you proceed further--" broke inNelligan; but as he got so far, Colonel Massingbred laid his hand on hisarm, and said, in a bland but steady voice, "Pray allow the gentleman tocontinue; his account promises to be most interesting."

  "Indeed, then, that's what it is not," said Crow; "for I think it'sall bad from beginning to end." Another effort to interrupt by Nelliganbeing repressed by the Colonel, Crow resumed: "Everybody trying to cheatsomebody else; the Martins wanting to cheat the borough, the boroughwanting to jockey the Martins, and then young Massingbred humbuggingthem both! And there he is now, Member for Oughterard; and much he caresfor them both."

  "Was there a contest, sir?" asked the Colonel, while by a gesture heenforced silence on Nelligan.

  "As bitter a one as ever you saw in your life," continued Simmy, quiteflattered at the attention vouchsafed him; "for though the Martins putyoung Massingbred forward at first, they quarrelled with him beforethe day for the nomination,--something or other about the franchise, orMaynooth, or the Church Establishment. Sorra one o' me know much aboutthese matters; but it was a serious difference, and they split about it!And after all their planning and conniving together, what do they dobut propose Martin's son, the man in the dragoons, for the borough!Massingbred bids them do their worst, packs up, sets out for the town,and makes a speech exposing them all! The next morning he comes to thepoll, with Joe's father there, and Peter Hayes, to propose and secondhim. Martin drives in with three elegant coaches and four, and tries todo the thing 'grand.' 'It's too late, sir; the people know their power,'as Father Neal told them; and, upon my conscience, I believe it's amost dangerous kind of knowledge. At all events, at it they go; and suchfighting and murdering nobody ever saw before. There's not a wholepane of glass in the town, and many a skull cracked as well! One of thewickedest of the set was young Massingbred himself; he 'd assault thecars as they drove in, and tear out the chaps he thought were his ownvoters, in spite of themselves. He has the spirit of the devil in him!And then to hear how he harangued the people and abused the aristocracy.Maybe he did n't lay it on well! To be sure, the Martins drove him toit very hard. They called him a 'renegade' and a 'spy.' They ransackedeverything they could get against his character, and at last declaredthat he had no qualification, and wasn't worth sixpence."

  "And how did he answer that?" cried the Colonel, who, fixing his eyes onthe other, entirely engaged his attention.

  "I 'll tell you how he did. Just producing the title-deeds of an estatethat old Nelligan settled on him eight days before,--ay, and so well andsecurely that Counsellor Repton himself, with all his cuteness, couldn't find a flaw in it. Repton said, in my own hearing, 'That 's thecleverest blackguard in Ireland!'"

  "Mr. Crow--Crow, I say," broke in young Nelligan.

  "Pray don't interrupt him," said the Colonel, in a tone that seemed todemand obedience; "I want to learn by what majority he gained the day."

  "Thirty-eight or thirty-nine; and there's only two hundred and odd inthe borough. There may be, perhaps, a dozen of these to strike off on apetition; but he 's all safe after that."

  "And will they petition against his return?"

  "They say so, but nobody believes them. His father,"--and here he made agesture towards Nelligan,--"his father has a strong purse, and will seehim well through it all."

  "This is very interesting news to me, sir," said the Colonel, withanother sign to Joseph not to betray him; "for although I could wellimagine Jack Massingbred equal to such an occasion as you describe, Iwas scarcely prepared to hear of the generous confidence reposed in him,nor the prompt and able co-operation of the Liberal party."

  "Ah, I perceive," said Crow, with a significant motion of his eyebrows."You thought that his name would be against him, and that people wouldsay, 'Is n't he the son of old Moore Massingbred, that took his bribefor the Union?'"

  "This is intolerable," cried Nelligan, starting up from his seat andspeaking with all the vehemence of outraged feelings. "It is to ColonelMassingbred himself you have dared to address this impertinence."

  "What--how--what's this!" exclaimed Crow, in a perfect horror of shame.

  "The fault, if there be any, is all mine, sir," said the Colonel,pressing him down into his seat. "I would not have lost the animateddescription you have just given me, uttered, as it was, in such perfectfrankness, for any consideration; least of all, at the small priceof hearing a public expression on a public man's conduct. Pray, now,continue to use the same frankness, and tell me anything more thatoccurs to you about this remarkable contest."

  This appeal, uttered in all the ease of a well-bred manner, was quiteunsuccessful. Mr. Crow sat perfectly horrified with himself, endeavoringto remember what possible extent of offence he might have been betrayedinto by his narrative. As for Nelligan, his shame and confusion wereeven greater still; and he sat gazing ruefully and reproachfully at theunlucky painter.

  Colonel Massingbred made one or two more efforts to relieve theawkwardness of the incident, but so palpably fruitless were the attemptsthat he desisted, and arose to take his leave. As Joe accompanied himto the door, he tried to blunder out some words of excuse. "My dear Mr.Nelligan," broke in the other, with a quiet laugh, "don't imagine fora moment that I am offended. In the f
irst place, your friend was thebearer of very pleasant tidings, for Jack has not condescended to writeto me about his success; and secondly, public life is such a sternschoolmaster, that men like myself get accustomed to rather rough usage,particularly at the hands of those who do not know us. And now, as I amvery unwilling to include you in this category, when will you come andsee me? What day will you dine with me?"

  Nelligan blushed and faltered, just as many another awkward man has donein a similar circumstance; for, however an easy matter for you, my dearsir, with all your tact and social readiness, to fix the day it willsuit you to accept of an almost stranger's hospitality, Joseph had nosuch self-possession, and only stammered and grew crimson.

  "Shall it be on Saturday? for to-morrow I am engaged to the Chancellor,and on Friday I dine with his Excellency. Will Saturday suit you?" askedthe Colonel.

  "Yes, sir, perfectly; with much pleasure," answered Nelligan.

  "Then Saturday be it, and at seven o'clock," said Massingbred, shakinghis hand most cordially; while Joe, with sorrowful step, returned to hischamber.

  "Well, I think I did it there, at all events!" cried Simmy, as the otherentered. "But what, in the name of all that's barefaced, prevented yourstopping me? Why did n't you pull me up short before I made a beast ofmyself?"

  "How could I? You rushed along like a swollen river. You were so full ofyour blessed subject that you would n't heed an interruption; and as tosigns and gestures, I made twenty without being able to catch your eye."

  "I believe I 'm the only man living ever does these things," said Simmy,ruefully. "I lost the two or three people that used to say they were myfriends by some such blundering folly as this. I only hope it won't do_you_ any mischief. I trust he 'll see that you are not responsible formy delinquencies!"

  There was a hearty sincerity in poor Simmy's sorrow that at onceconciliated Nelligan, and he did his best to obliterate every trace ofthe unhappy incident.

  "I scarcely supposed my father would have forgiven Massingbred soeasily," said Joe, in his desire to change the topic.

  "Blarney,--all blarney!" muttered Crow, with an expressive movement ofhis eyebrows.

  "Father Neal himself is rather a difficult subject to treat with," addedJoe.

  "Blarney again!"

  "Nor do I think," continued Nelligan, "that the constituency of theborough, as a body, are remarkable for any special liability to beimposed on!"

  "Nor would they, had it been an Irishman was trying to humbug them,"said Crow, emphatically. "Take my word for it,--and I 've seen a greatdeal of the world, and perhaps not the best of it either,--but take _my_word for it, English blarney goes further with us here than all else.It 's not that it's clever or insinuating or delicate,--far from it; butyou see that nobody suspects it. The very blunders and mistakes of ithave an air of sincerity, and we are, besides, so accustomed always tobe humbugged with a brogue, that we fancy ourselves safe when we hear anEnglish accent."

  "There's some ingenuity in your theory," said Joe, smiling.

  "There's fact in it; that's what there is," said Crow, rising from hisseat. "I 'll be going now, for I 'm to dine with Tom Magennis at six."

  "Is he here, too?"

  "Yes; and was n't it a piece of good luck that I did n't say anythingabout him before Colonel Massingbred?"

  "Why so?"

  "Just for this, then,--that it was young Massingbred gave him a letterto his father, recommending him for some place or other. Half of theborough expects to be in the Treasury, or the Post-Office, or the Boardof Trade; and I was just on the tip of saying what a set of rapscallionsthey were. I 'm sure I don't know what saved me from it."

  "Your natural discretion, doubtless," said Joe, smiling.

  "Just so; it must have been that!" replied he, with a sigh.

  "You'll breakfast with me to-morrow, Crow, at eight," said Nelligan, ashe parted with him at the door. And Simmy, having pledged himself to bepunctual, hurried off to keep his dinner appointment.