Advice: It's Better to Use Search Function to See All Our Books! You Can See All Books on Dropdown List! Part 36

'"What a draught there is here," said I; "but just step in, and I'll go for a light."

'He did as he was bid; but instead of finding himself on my beautiful little carpet, down he went fourteen feet into the hay at the bottom. I looked down after him for a minute or two, and then called out--

"'As I am doing the honours of Newgate, the least I could do was to show you the drop. Good-night, Dan! but let me advise you to get a little farther from the door, as there are more coming."

'Well, sir, when they missed Dan and me out of the room, two or three more stood up, and declared for bed also. The first I took up was Ffrench, of Green Park; for indeed he wasn't a cute fellow at the best of times; and if it wasn't that the hay was so low, he'd never have guessed it was not a feather-bed till he woke in the morning. Well, down he went. Then came Eyre; then Joe M'Mahon--two-and-twenty stone--no less! Lord pity them!--this was a great shock entirely! But when I opened the door for Tom Burke, upon my conscience you'd think it was Pandemonium they had down there. They were fighting like devils, and roaring with all their might.

'"Good-night, Tom," said I, pushing Burke forward. "It's the cows you hear underneath."

'"Cows!" said he. "If they 're cows, begad they must have got at that sixty-three gallons of poteen you talked of; for they're all drunk."

'With that, he s.n.a.t.c.hed the candle out of my hand and looked down into the pit. Never was such a sight seen before or since. Dan was pitching into poor Ffrench, who, thinking he had an enemy before him, was. .h.i.tting out manfully at an old turf-creel, that rocked and creaked at every blow, as he called out--

'"I'll smash you! I'll ding your ribs for you, you' infernal scoundrel!"

'Eyre was struggling in the hay, thinking he was swimming for his life; and poor Joe M'Mahon was patting him on the head, and saying, "Poor fellow! good dog!" for he thought it was Towzer, the bull-terrier, that was prowling round the calves of his legs.

'"If they don't get tired, there will not be a man of them alive by morning!" said Tom, as he closed the door. "And now, if you 'll allow me to sleep on the carpet, I'll take it as a favour."

'By this time they were all quiet in the parlour; so I lent Tom a couple of blankets and a bolster, and having locked my door, went to bed with an easy mind and a quiet conscience. To be sure, now and then a cry would burst forth, as if they were killing somebody below-stairs, but I soon fell asleep and heard no more of them.

'By daybreak next morning they made their escape; and when I was trying to awake at half-past ten, I found Colonel M'Morris, of the Mayo, with a message from the whole four.

'"A bad business this, Captain Mahon," said he; "my friends have been shockingly treated."

'"It's mighty hard," said I, "to want to shoot me because I hadn't fourteen feather-beds in the house."

'"They will be the laugh of the whole country, sir."

'"Troth!" said I, "if the country is not in very low spirits, I think they will."

'"There's not a man of them can see!--their eyes are actually closed up!"

'"The Lord be praised!" said I. "It's not likely they'll hit me."

'But to make a short story of it--out we went. Tom Burke was my friend.

I could scarce hold my pistol with laughing; for such faces no man ever looked at. But for self-preservation's sake, I thought it best to hit one of them; so I just pinked Ffrench a little under the skirt of the coat. '"Come, Lambert!" said the Colonel, "it's your turn now."

'"Wasn't that Lambert," said I, "that I hit?"

'"No," said he, "that was Ffrench."

'"Begad, I'm sorry for it. Ffrench, my dear fellow, excuse me; for you see you're all so like each other about the eyes this morning----"

'With this there was a roar of laughing from them all, in which, I a.s.sure you, Lambert took not a very prominent part; for somehow he didn't fancy my polite inquiries after him. And so we all shook hands, and left the ground as good friends as ever--though to this hour the name of Newgate brings less pleasant recollections to their minds than if their fathers had been hanged at its prototype.'

CHAPTER XXIX. THE DUEL

When morning broke, I started up and opened the window. It was one of those bright and beauteous daybreaks which would seem to be the compensation a northern climate possesses for its want of the azure sky of noon and the silvery moonlight of night, the gifts of happier climes.

The pink hue of the sky was gradually replacing the paler tints, like a deep blush mantling the cheek of beauty; the lark was singing high in heaven, and the deep note of the blackbird came mellowed from the leafy grove; the cattle were still at rest, and seemed half unwilling to break the tranquil stillness of the scene, as they lay breathing the balmy odours from the wild flowers that grew around them. Such was the picture that lay on one side of me. On the other was the long street of a little town, on which yet the shadows of night were sleeping; the windows were closed; not a smoke-wreath rose from any chimney, but all was still and peaceful.

In my little parlour I found the good priest and the Major fast asleep in their chairs, pretty much in the same att.i.tudes I had left them in some hours before. The fire had died away; the square decanter of whisky was emptied to its last drop, and the kettle lay pensively on one side, like some shipwrecked craft high and dry upon the sh.o.r.e. I looked at my watch; it was but four o'clock. Our meeting was appointed for half-past five; so I crept noiselessly back to my room, not sorry to have half an hour to myself of undisturbed reflection. When I had finished my dressing, I threw up the sash and sprang out into the garden. It was a wild, uncultivated spot; but still there was something of beauty in those old trees whose rich blossoms scented the air, while the rank weeds of many a gay and gaudy hue shot up luxuriantly about their trunks, the pink marsh-mallow and the taper foxglove mingling their colours with the sprayey meadowsweet and the wild sweet-brier. There was an air of solitude in the neglect around me that seemed to suit the habit of my soul; and I strolled along from one walk to another, lost in my own thoughts.

There were many things at a moment like that I would fain have written, fain have said; but so it is, in the wealth of our emotions we can give nothing, and I could not bring myself to write to my friends even to say farewell Although I felt that in every stage of this proceeding I had nothing to reproach myself with, this duel being thrust on me by one who had singled me out for his hatred, yet I saw as its result nothing but the wreck of all my hopes. Already had _she_ intimated how strong was her father's attachment to his nephew, and with an expressive fear cautioned me against any collision with him. How vain are all our efforts, how fruitless are all our endeavours, to struggle against the current of our fate. We may stem for a short time the full tide of fortune, we may breast with courage high and spirit fierce the rough billows as they break upon us, but we are certain to succ.u.mb in the end.

With some men failure is a question of fear; some want the persevering courage to drag on amid trials and difficulties; and some are deficient in the temper which, subduing our actions to a law, governs and presides over every moment of our lives, rendering us, even in our periods of excitement and irritation, amenable to the guidance of our reason. This was my case; and I felt that notwithstanding all my wishes to avoid a quarrel with Burke, yet in my heart a lurking spirit urged me to seek him out and offer him defiance.

While these thoughts were pa.s.sing through my mind, I suddenly heard a voice which somehow seemed half familiar to my ear. I listened; it came from a room of which the window was partly open. I now remembered that poor Joe lay in that part of the house, and the next moment I knew it to be his. Placing a ladder against the wall, I crept quietly up till I could peep into the room. The poor fellow was alone, sitting up in his bed, with his hunting-cap on, an old whip in his hand, which he flourished from time to time with no small energy; his cheek was flushed, and his eye, prominent and flashing, denoted the access of high fever. It was evident that his faculties, clouded as they were even in their happiest moments, were now under the wilder influence of delirium.

He was speaking rapidly to himself in a quick undertone, calling the dogs by name, caressing this one, scolding that; and then, bursting forth into a loud tally-ho, his face glowed with an ecstatic pleasure, and he broke forth into a rude chant, the words of which I have never forgotten, for as he sang them in a voice of wild and touching sweetness, they seemed the very outpourings of his poor simple heart:--

'I never yet owned a horse or hound, I never was lord of a foot of ground; Yet few are richer, I will be bound, Than me of a hunting morning.

'I 'm far better off nor him that pays, For though I 've no money, I live at my aise, With hunting and shooting whenever I plase, And a tally-high-ho in the morning.

'As I go on foot, I don't lose my sate, As I take the gaps, I don't break a gate; And if I'm not first, why I'm seldom late, With my tally-high-ho in the morning.

'And there's not a man, be he high or low, In the parts down here, or wherever you go, That doesn't like poor Tipperary Joe, With his tally-high-ho in the morning.'

A loud view-holloa followed this wild chant; and then the poor fellow, as if exhausted by his efforts, sank back in the bed muttering to himself in a low broken voice, but with a look so happy, and a smile so tranquil, he seemed more a thing to envy than one to commiserate and pity.

'I say, Hinton!' shouted the Major from the window of my bedroom, 'what the deuce are you doing up that ladder there? Not serenading Mrs.

Doolan, I hope. Are you aware it is five o'clock?'

I descended with all haste, and joining my friend, took his arm, and set out towards the rendezvous.

'I didn't order the horses,' said Mahon, 'for the rumour of such a thing as this always gets abroad through one's servants.'

'Ah, yes,' said I; 'and then you have the police.'

'The police!' repeated he, laughing--'not a bit of it, my boy; don't forget you're in glorious old Ireland, where no one ever thinks of spoiling a fair fight. It is possible the magistrate might issue his warrant if you would not come up to time, but for anything else----'

'Well,' said I, 'that certainly does afford me another glimpse of your habits. How far have we to go, Major?'

'You remember the gra.s.s-field below the sunk fence, to the left of the mill?'

'Where the stream runs?'

'Exactly; that's the spot. It was old Pigott chose it, and no man is a better judge of these things. By-the-bye, it is very lucky that Burke should have pitched upon a gentleman for his friend--I mean a real gentleman, for there are plenty of his acquaintances who under that name would rob the mail.'

Thus chatting as we went, Mahon informed me that Pigott was an old half-pay Colonel, whose princ.i.p.al occupation for thirteen years had been what the French would call 'to a.s.sist' at affairs of honour. Even the Major himself looked up to him as a last appeal in a disputed or a difficult point; and many a reserved case was kept for his opinion, with the same ceremonious observance as a knotty point of law for the consideration of the twelve judges. Crossing the little rivulet near the mill, we held on by a small bypath which brought us over the starting-ground of the steeplechase, by the scene of part of my preceding day's exploits. While I was examining with some curiosity the ground cut up and trod by the horses' feet, and looking at the spot where we had taken the fence, the sharp sound of two pistol-shots quickly aroused me, and I eagerly asked what it was.

'Snapping the pistols,' said Mahon. 'Ah, by-the-bye, all this kind of thing is new to you. Never mind; put a careless, half-indifferent kind of face on the matter. Do you take snuff? It doesn't signify; put your hands in your pockets, and hum "Tatter Jack Walsh!"'

As I supposed there was no specific charm in the melody he alluded to, nor if there had been, had I any time to acquire it, I consoled myself by observing the first part of his direction, and strolled after him into the field with a nonchalance only perhaps a little too perfect.

Mr. Burke and his friends, to the number of about a dozen persons, were already a.s.sembled; and were one to judge from their loud talking and hearty laughter as we came forward, it would seem difficult to believe the occasion that brought them there was that of mortal combat. So, at least, I thought. Not so, however, the Major; for with a hop, step, and a jump, performed by about the shortest pair of legs in the barony, he sprang into the midst of the party, with some droll observation on the benefits of early rising which once more called forth their merriment.

Seating myself on a large moss-covered stone, I waited patiently for the preliminaries to be settled. As I threw my eye among the group, I perceived that Burke was not there; but on turning my head, I remarked two men walking arm-in-arm on the opposite side of the hedge. As they paced to and fro, I could see, by the violence of his gesticulations and the energy of his manner, that one was Burke. It seemed as though his companion was endeavouring to reason with and dissuade him from some course of proceeding he appeared bent on following; but there was a savage earnestness in his manner that would not admit of persuasion; and at last, as if wearied and vexed by his friend's importunities, he broke rudely from him, and springing over the fence, called out--