St. Patrick's Eve
Page 16
into the room, and standing for a second with his eyes fixedon each in turn, he said, "Bad scran to ye, for women; but there'snothing but decate and wickedness in ye; divil a peace or ease I evergot when I quarrelled with Owen, and now that we're friends, ye're ascross and discontented as ever. Try what you can do with her yourself,Owen, my boy; for I give her up."
"'Tis not for me to thry it," said Owen, despondingly; "'tis another hasthe betther luck."
"That's not true, anyhow," cried Phil; "for she told me so herself."
"What! Mary, did ye say that?" said Owen, with a spring across the room;"did ye tell him that, darling?"
"Sure if I did, ye wouldn't believe me," said Mary, with a side-look;"women is nothing but deceit and wickedness."
"Sorra else," cried Owen, throwing his arm round her neck and kissingher; "and I'll never believe ye again, when ye say ye don't love me."
"'Tis a nice way to boil the eggs hard," said Phil, testily; "arrah,come over here and eat your breakfast, man; you'll have time enough forcourting when we come back."
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There needed not many words to a bargain which was already ratified; andbefore they left the house, the day of the wedding was actually fixed.
It was not without reason, then, that I said it was a happy day forOwen. Never did the long miles of the road seem so short as now; while,with many a plan for the future, and many a day-dream of happiness tocome, he went at Phil's side scarce crediting his good fortune to bereal.
When they arrived at the agent's office in the square at Galway, theyfound a great many of their neighbours and friends already there;some, moody and depressed, yet lingered about the door, though theyhad apparently finished the business which brought them; others,anxious-looking and troubled, were waiting for their turn to enter. Theywere all gathered into little groups and parties, conversing eagerlytogether in Irish; and as each came out of the office, he was speedilysurrounded by several others, questioning him as to how he had fared,and what success he met with.
Few came forth satisfied--not one happy-looking. Some, who weredeficient a few shillings, were sent back again, and appeared with themoney still in their hands, which they counted over and over, asif hoping to make it more. Others, trusting to promptitude in theirpayments, were seeking renewal of their tenures at the same rent, andfound their requests coldly received, and no pledge returned. Others,again, met with severe reproaches as to the condition of their dwellingsand the neglected appearance of their farms, with significant hints thatslovenly tenants would meet with little favour, and, although pleadingsickness and distress, found the apology hut slightly regarded.
"We thought the ould agent bad enough; but, faix, this one bates himout, entirely." Such was the comment of each and all, at the treatmentmet with, and such the general testimony of the crowd.
"Owen Connor! Owen Connor!" called out a voice, which Owen in a momentrecognised as that of the fellow who had visited his cabin; and passingthrough the densely crowded hall, Owen forced his way into the smallfront parlour, where two clerks were seated at a table, writing.
"Over here; this way, if you please," said one of them, pointing withhis pen to the place he should stand in. "What's your name?"
"Owen Connor, sir."
"What's the name of your holding?"
"Ballydorery, Knockshaughlin, and Cushaglin, is the townlands, and themountain is Slieve-na-vick, sir."
"Owen Connor, Owen Connor," said the clerk, repeating the name three orfour times over. "Oh, I remember; there has been no rent paid on yourfarm for some years.''
"You're right there, sir," said Owen; "the landlord, God be good to him!tould my poor father--"
"Well, well, I have nothing to do with that--step inside--Mr. Lucaswill speak to you himself;--shew this man inside, Luffey;" and the grimbailiff led the way into the back parlour, where two gentlemen werestanding with their backs to the fire, chatting; they were both youngand good-looking, and, to Owen's eyes, as unlike agents as could be. .
"Well, what does this honest fellow want?--no abatement, I hope; afellow with as good a coat as you have, can't be very ill off."
"True for you, yer honor, and I am not," said Owen in reply to thespeaker, who seemed a few years younger than the other. "_I_ was bidspake to yer honor about the little place I have up the mountains, andthat Mr. Leslie gave my father rent-free--"
"Oh, you are the man from Maam, an't you?"
"The same, sir; Owen Connor."
"That's the mountain I told you of, Major," said Lucas in a whisper;then, turning to Owen, resumed: "Well, I wished to see you very much,and speak to you. I've heard the story about your getting the landrent-free, and all that; but I find no mention of the matter in thebooks of the estate; there is not the slightest note nor memorandum thatI can see, on the subject; and except your own word--which of course, asfar as it goes, is all very well--I have nothing in your favour."
While these words were being spoken, Owen went through a thousandtortures; and many a deep conflicting passion warred within him. "Well,sir," said he at last, with a heavily drawn sigh, "well, sir, with God'sblessin', I'll do my best; and whatever your honour says is fair, I'llthry and pay it: I suppose I'm undher rent since March last?"
"March! why, my good fellow, there's six years due last twenty-fifth;what are you thinking of?"
"Sure you don't mean I'm to pay, for what was given to me and myfather?" said Owen, with a wild look that almost startled the agent.
"I mean precisely what I say," said Lucas, reddening with anger at thetone Owen assumed. "I mean that you owe six years and a half of rent;for which, if you neither produce receipt nor money, you'll never oweanother half year for the same holding."
"And that's flat!" said the Major, laughing.
"And that's flat!" echoed Lucas, joining in the mirth.
Owen looked from one to the other of the speakers, and although neverindisposed to enjoy a jest, he could not, for the life of him, conceivewhat possible occasion for merriment existed at the present moment.
"Plenty of grouse on that mountain, an't there?" said the Major, tappinghis boot with his cane.
But, although the question was addressed to Owen, he was too deeply sunkin his own sad musings to pay it any attention.
"Don't you hear, my good fellow? Major Lynedoch asks, if there are notplenty of grouse on the mountain."
"Did the present landlord say that I was to pay this back rent?" saidOwen deliberately, after a moment of deep thought.
"Mr. Leslie never gave me any particular instructions on your account,"said Lucas smiling; "nor do I suppose that his intentions regarding youare different from those respecting other tenants."
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"I saved his life, then!" said Owen; and his eyes flashed withindignation as he spoke.
"And you saved a devilish good fellow, I can tell you," said theMajor, smiling complacently, as though to hint that the act was a verysufficient reward for its own performance.
"The sorra much chance he had of coming to the property that day,anyhow, till I came up," said Owen, in a half soliloquy.
"What! were the savages about to scalp him? Eh!" asked the Major.
Owen turned a scowl towards him that stopped the already-begun laugh;while Lucas, amazed at the peasant's effrontery, said, "You needn't waitany longer, my good fellow; I have nothing more to say."
"I was going to ask yer honner, sir," said Owen, civilly, "if I paidthe last half-year--I have it with me--if ye'll let me stay in the placetill ye'll ask Mr. Leslie--"
"But you forget, my friend, that a receipt for the last half-year is areceipt in full," said Lucas, interrupting.
"Sure; I don't want the receipt!" said Owen hurriedly; "keep ityourself. It isn't mistrusting the word of a gentleman I'd be."
"Eh, Lucas! blarney! I say, blarney, and no mistake!" cried the Major,half-suffocated with his own drollery.
"By my sowl! it's little blarney I'd give you, av I had ye at the sideof Slieve-na-vick," said Owen; and the look he threw
towards him leftlittle doubt of his sincerity.
"Leave the room, sir! leave the room!" said Lucas, with a gesturetowards the door.
"Dare I ax you where Mr. Leslie is now, sir?" said Owen, calmly.
"He's in London: No. 18 Belgrave Square."
"Would yer honour be so kind as to write it on a bit of paper for me?"said Owen, almost obsequiously.
Lucas sat down and wrote the address upon a