Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon Volume Ii Part 53

"The housekeeper; a very respectable old matron."

"Is she funny?"

"Funny! not a bit."

"Oh, then, never mind her. What made you think of her?"

"Why, I thought, perhaps you'd think--That is people might say--In fact I was doing a little bit proper on your account."

"Oh, that was it, was it? Thank you for nothing, my dear; Baby Blake can take care of herself. And now just help me to that wing there. Do you know, Cousin Charley, I think you're an old quiz, and not half as good a fellow as you used to be?"

"Come, come, Baby, don't be in such a hurry to p.r.o.nounce upon me. Let us take a gla.s.s of wine. Fill Miss Blake's gla.s.s, Simon."

"Well, you may be better when one comes to know you. I detest sherry. No, never mind, I'll take it, as it's here. Charley, I'll not compliment you upon your ham; they don't know how to save them here. I'll give you such a receipt when you come over to see us. But will you come? That's the question."

"How can you ask me! Don't you think I'll return your visit?"

"Oh, hang your ceremony! Come and see us, like a good-natured fellow that knew us since we played together and quarrelled over our toys on the gra.s.s.

Is that your sword up there? Did you hear that noise? That was thunder: there it comes. Look at that!"

As she spoke, a darkness like night overspread the landscape; the waves of the river became greatly agitated, and the rain, descending in torrents, beat with tremendous force against the windows; clap after clap of thunder followed; the lightning flashed fearfully through the gloom; and the wind, growing every moment stronger, drove the rain with redoubled violence against the gla.s.s. For a while we amused ourselves with watching the effects of the storm without: the poor laborers flying from their work; the dripping figures seeking shelter beneath the trees; the barques; the very loaded carts themselves,--all interested Miss Baby, whose eye roved from the sh.o.r.e to the Shannon, recognizing with a practised eye every house upon its banks, and every barque that rocked and pitched beneath the gale.

"Well, this is pleasant to look out at," said she, at length, and after the storm had lasted for above an hour, without evincing any show of abatement; "but what's to become of _me?_"

Now that was the very question I had been asking myself for the last twenty minutes without ever being able to find the answer.

"Eh, Charley, what's to become of me?"

"Oh, never fear; one thing's quite certain, you cannot leave this in such weather. The river is certainly impa.s.sable by this time at the ford, and to go by the road is out of the question; it is fully twelve miles. I have it, Baby; you, as I've said before, can't leave this, but I can. Now, I'll go over to Gurt-na-Morra, and return in the morning to bring you back; it will be fine by that time."

"Well, I like your notion. You'll leave me all alone here to drink tea, I suppose, with your friend Mrs. Magra. A pleasant evening I'd have of it; not a bit--"

"Well, Baby, don't be cross; I only meant this arrangement really for your sake. I needn't tell you how very much I'd prefer doing the honors of my poor house in person."

"Oh, I see what you mean,--more propers. Well, well, I've a great deal to learn; but look, I think its growing lighter."

"No, far from it; it's only that gray ma.s.s along the horizon that always bodes continual rain."

As the prospect without had little cheering to look upon, we sat down beside the fire and chatted away, forgetting very soon in a hundred mutual recollections and inquiries, the rain and the wind, the thunder and the hurricane. Now and then, as some louder crash would resound above our heads, for a moment we would turn to the window, and comment upon the dreadful weather; but the next, we had forgotten all about it, and were deep in our confabulations.

As for my fair cousin, who at first was full of contrivances to pa.s.s the time,--such as the piano, a game at backgammon, chicken hazard, battledoor,--she at last became mightily interested in some of my soldiering adventures, and it was six o'clock ere we again thought that some final measure must be adopted for restoring Baby to her friends, or at least, guarding against the consequences her simple and guileless nature might have involved her in.

Mike was called into the conference, and at his suggestion, it was decided that we should have out the phaeton, and that I should myself drive Miss Blake home; a plan which offered no other difficulties than this one,--namely, that of above thirty horses in my stables, I had not a single pair which had ever been harnessed.

This, so far from proving the obstacle I deemed it, seemed, on the contrary, to overwhelm Baby with delight.

"Let's have them. Come, Charley, this will be rare fun; we couldn't have a team of four, could we?"

"Six, if you like it, my dear coz--only who's to hold them? They're young thorough-breds,--most of them never backed; some not bitted. In fact, I know nothing of my stable. I say, Mike, is there anything fit to take out?"

"Yes, sir; there's Miss Wildespin, she's in training, to be sure; but we can't help that; and the brown colt they call, 'Billy the Bolter,'--they're the likeliest we have; without your honor would take the two chestnuts we took up last week; they're raal devils to go; and if the tackle will hold them, they'll bring you to Mr. Blake's door in forty minutes."

"I vote for the chestnuts," said Baby, slapping her boot with her horsewhip.

"I move an amendment in favor of Miss Wildespin," said I, doubtfully.

"He'll never do for Galway," sang Baby, laying her whip on my shoulder with no tender hand; "yet you used to cross the country in good style when you were here before."

"And might do so again, Baby."

"Ah, no; that vile dragoon seat, with your long stirrup, and your heel dropped, and your elbow this way, and your head that! How could you ever screw your horse up to his fence, lifting him along as you came up through the heavy ground, and with a stroke of your hand sending him pop over, with his hind-legs well under him?" Here she burst into a fit of laughter at my look of amazement, as with voice, gesture, and look she actually dramatized the scene she described.

By the time that I had costumed my fair friend in my dragoon cloak and a foraging cap, with a gold band around it, which was the extent of m.u.f.fling my establishment could muster, a distant noise without apprised us that the phaeton was approaching. Certainly, the mode in which that equipage came up to the door might have inspired sentiments of fear in any heart less steeled against danger than my fair cousin's. The two blood chestnuts (for it was those Mike harnessed, having a groom's dislike to take a racer out of training) were surrounded by about twenty people: some at their heads; some patting them on the flanks; some spoking the wheels; and a few, the more cautious of the party, standing at a respectable distance and offering advice. The mode of progression was simply a spring, a plunge, a rear, a lounge, and a kick; and considering it was the first time they ever performed together, nothing could be more uniform than their display.

Sometimes the pole would be seen to point straight upward, like a lightning conductor, while the infuriated animals appeared sparring with their fore-legs at an imaginary enemy. Sometimes, like the pictures in a school-book on mythology, they would seem in the act of diving, while with their hind-legs they dashed the splash-board into fragments behind them,--their eyes flashing fire, their nostrils distended, their flanks heaving, and every limb trembling with pa.s.sion and excitement.

"That's what I call a rare turn-out," said Baby, who enjoyed the proceeding amazingly.

"Yes; but remember," said I, "we're not to have all these running footmen the whole way."

"I like that near-sider with the white fetlock."

"You're right, Miss," said Mike, who entered at the moment, and felt quite gratified at the criticism,--"you're right, Miss; it's himself can do it."

"Come, Baby, are you ready?"

"All right, sir," said she, touching her cap knowingly with her forefinger.

"Will the tackle hold, Mike?" said I.

"We'll take this with us, at any rate," pointing, as he spoke, to a considerable coil of rope, a hammer, and a basket of nails, he carried on his arm. "It's the break harness we have, and it ought to be strong enough; but sure if the thunder comes on again, they'd smash a chain cable."

"Now, Charley," cried Baby, "keep their heads straight; for when they go that way, they mean going."

"Well, Baby, let's start; but pray remember one thing,--if I'm not as agreeable on the journey as I ought to be, if I don't say as many pretty things to my pretty coz, it's because these confounded beasts will give me as much as I can do."

"Oh, yes, look after the cattle, and take another time for squeezing my hand. I say, Charley, you'd like to smoke, now, wouldn't you? If so, don't mind me."

"A thousand thanks for thinking of it; but I'll not commit such a trespa.s.s on good breeding."

When we reached the door, the prospect looked dark and dismal enough. The rain had almost ceased, but ma.s.ses of black clouds were hurrying across the sky, and the low rumbling noise of a gathering storm crept along the ground. Our panting equipage, with its two mounted grooms behind,--for to provide against all accident, Mike ordered two such to follow us,--stood in waiting. Miss Blake's horse, held by the smallest imaginable bit of boyhood, bringing up the rear.

"Look at Paddy Byrne's face," said Baby, directing my attention to the little individual in question.

Now, small as the aforesaid face was, it contrived, within its limits, to exhibit an expression of unqualified fear. I had no time, however, to give a second look, when I jumped into the phaeton and seized the reins. Mike sprang up behind at a look from me, and without speaking a word, the stablemen and helpers flew right and left. The chestnuts, seeing all free before them, made one tremendous plunge, carrying the fore-carriage clear off the ground, and straining every nut, bolt, screw, and strap about us with the effort.

"They're off now," cried Mickey.

"Yes, they are off now," said Baby. "Keep them going."