Japhet in Search of a Father Part 32

"Fine morning, sir," said he to me, perceiving that I was the only person awake.

"Very," replied I, "very fine; but I had rather be walking over the mountains of Connemara, than be shut up in this close and confined conveyance."

"Hah! you know Connemara, then? I'm going there; perhaps you are also bound to that part of the country? but you are not Irish."

"I was not born or bred in Ireland, certainly," replied I.

"So I should say Irish blood in your veins, I presume."

"I believe such to be the case," replied I, with a smile, implying certainty.

"Do you know Sir Henry de Clare?"

"Sir Henry de Clare--of Mount Castle--is he not?"

"The same; I am going over to him. I am agent for his estates, among others. A very remarkable man. Have you ever seen his wife?"

"I really cannot tell," replied I; "let me call to mind."

I had somehow or another formed an idea, that Sir Henry de Clare and Melchior might be one and the same person; nothing was too absurd or improbable for my imagination, and I had now means of bringing home my suspicions. "I think," continued I, "I recollect her--that is, she is a very tall, handsome woman, dark eyes and complexion."

"The very same," replied he.

My heart bounded at the information; it certainly was not any clue to my own parentage, but it was an object of my solicitude, and connected with the welfare of Fleta. "If I recollect right," observed I, "there are some curious pa.s.sages in the life of Sir Henry?"

"Nothing very particular," observed the agent, looking out of the window.

"I thought that he had disappeared for some time."

"Disappeared! he certainly did not live in Ireland, because he had quarrelled with his brother. He lived in England until his brother's death."

"How did his brother die, sir?"

"Killed by a fall when hunting," replied the agent. "He was attempting to clear a stone wall, the horse fell back on him, and dislocated his spine. I was on the spot when the accident happened."

I recollected the imperfect communication of Fleta, who had heard the gipsy say that "he was dead;" and also the word _horse_ made use of, and I now felt convinced that I had found out Melchior. "Sir Henry, if I recollect right, has no family," observed I.

"No; and I am afraid there is but little chance."

"Had the late baronet, his elder brother, any family?"

"What, Sir William? No; or Sir Henry would not have come into the t.i.tle."

"He might have had daughters," replied I.

"Very true; now I think of it, there was a girl, who died when young."

"Is the widow of Sir William alive?"

"Yes; and a very fine woman she is; but she has left Ireland since her husband's death."

I did not venture to ask any more questions. Our conversation had roused Mr Cophagus and the other pa.s.senger; and as I had reflected how I should behave in case of recognition, I wished to be prepared for him.

"You have had a good nap, sir," said I, turning to him.

"Nap--yes--coach nap, bad--head sore--and so on. Why--bless me-- j.a.phet--j.a.phet New--yes--it is."

"Do you speak to me, sir?" inquired I, with a quiet air.

"Speak to you--yes--bad memory--hip! quite forgot--old master--shop in Smithfield--mad bull--and so on."

"Really, sir," replied I, "I am afraid you mistake me for some other person."

Mr Cophagus looked very hard at me, and perceiving that there was no alteration in my countenance, exclaimed, "Very odd--same nose--same face--same age too--very odd--like as two pills--beg pardon--made a mistake--and so on."

Satisfied with the discomfiture of Mr Cophagus, I turned round, when I perceived the Irish agent, with whom I had been in conversation, eyeing me most attentively. As I said before, he was a hard-featured man, and his small grey eye was now fixed upon me, as if it would have pierced me through. I felt confused for a moment, as the scrutiny was unexpected from that quarter; but a few moments' reflection told me, that if Sir Henry de Clare and Melchior were the same person, and this man his agent, in all probability he had not been sent to England for nothing; that if he was in search of Fleta, he must have heard of my name, and perhaps something of my history. "I appear to have a great likeness to many people," observed I, to the agent, smiling. "It was but the other day I was stopped in Bond Street as a Mr Rawlinson."

"Not a very common face either, sir," observed the agent: "if once seen not easily forgotten, nor easily mistaken for another."

"Still such appears to be the case," replied I, carelessly. We now stopped to take refreshment. I had risen from the table, and was going into the pa.s.sage, when I perceived the agent looking over the way-bill with the guard. As soon as he perceived me, he walked out in front of the inn. Before the guard had put up the bill, I requested to look at it, wishing to ascertain if I had been booked in my own name. It was so. The four names were, Newland, Cophagus, Baltzi, McDermott. I was much annoyed at this circ.u.mstance. McDermott was, of course, the name of the agent; and that was all the information I received in return for my own exposure, which I now considered certain; I determined, however, to put a good face on the matter, and when we returned to the coach, again entered into conversation with Mr McDermott, but I found him particularly guarded in his replies whenever I spoke about Sir Henry or his family, and I could not obtain any further information. Mr Cophagus could not keep his eyes off me--he peered into my face--then he would fall back in the coach. "Odd--very odd--must be--no--says not-- um." In about another half hour, he would repeat his examination, and mutter to himself. At last, as if tormented with his doubts, he exclaimed, "Beg pardon--but--you have a name?"

"Yes," replied I, "I have a name."

"Well, then--not ashamed. What is it?"

"My name, sir," replied I, "is Newland;" for I had resolved to acknowledge to my name, and fall back upon a new line of defence.

"Thought so--don't know me--don't recollect shop--Mr Brookes's--Tim-- rudiments--and so on."

"I have not the least objection to tell you my name; but I am afraid you have the advantage in your recollection of me. Where may I have had the honour of meeting you?"

"Meeting--what, quite forgot--Smithfield?"

"And pray, sir, where may Smithfield be?"

"Very odd--can't comprehend--same name, same face--don't recollect me, don't recollect Smithfield?"

"It may be very odd, sir; but, as I am very well known in London, at the west end, perhaps we have met there. Lord Windermear's, perhaps--Lady Maelstrom's?"--and I continued mentioning about a dozen of the most fashionable names. "At all events, you appear to have the advantage of me; but I trust you will excuse my want of memory, as my acquaintance is very extensive."

"I see--quite a mistake--same name, not same person--beg pardon, sir-- apologies--and so on," replied the apothecary, drawing in a long sigh.

PART TWO, CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

I TURN LAWYER.

I watched the countenance of the agent, who appeared at last to be satisfied that there had been some mistake; at least he became more communicative; and as I no longer put any questions to him relative to Sir Henry, we had a long conversation. I spoke to him about the De Benyons, making every inquiry that I could think of. He informed me that the deceased earl, the father of the present, had many sons, who were some of them married, and that the family was extensive. He appeared to know them all, the professions which they had been brought up to, and their careers in life. I treasured up this information, and, as soon as I had an opportunity, wrote down all which he had told me.

On our arrival at Holyhead, the weather was very boisterous, and the packet was to depart immediately. Mr McDermott stated his intentions to go over, but Mr Cophagus and the professor declined; and, anxious as I was to proceed, I did not wish to be any longer in company with the agent, and, therefore, also declined going on board. Mr McDermott called for a gla.s.s of brandy and water, drank it off in haste, and then, followed by the porter, with his luggage, went down to embark.