Roland Cashel Volume I Part 7

"You have never met this Mr. Roland Cashel, I believe?" said Mr. Softly, as he filled a very large claret gla.s.s and tasted it enjoyably.

"Never," replied Jones, whose teeth were busily engaged in smashing almonds and filberts, in open defiance of a tray of silver nutcrackers before him. "I don't think he has been in Ireland since a mere child, and very little in England."

"Then his recovery of the estate was quite unexpected?"

"Mere accident Kennyf.e.c.k came upon the proofs when making some searches for a collateral claim. The story is very short. This lad's father, whose name was G.o.dfrey Cashel, was a poor lieutenant in the 81st, and quartered at Bath, when he chanced to discover that a rich old bachelor there, a certain G.o.dfrey Browne, was a distant relation of his mother. He lost no time in making his acquaintance and explaining the relationship, which, however, brought him no more substantial benefit than certain invitations to dinner and whist parties, where the unfortunate lieutenant lost his half-crowns.

"At length a note came one morning inviting him to breakfast and to 'transact a little matter of business.' Poor G.o.dfrey read the words with every commentary that could flatter his hopes, and set out in better spirits than he had known for many a year before. What, then, was his dismay to discover that he was only wanted to witness the old gentleman's will!--a very significant proof that he was not to benefit by its provisions.

"With a very ill-repressed sigh, the poor lieutenant threw a glance over the half-opened leaves, where leasehold, and copyhold, and freehold, and every other 'hold' figured among funded property, consols, and reduced annuities,--with money lent on mortgages, shares in various companies, and What not,--a list only to be equalled by the long catalogue of those 'next of kin,' who, to the number of seventeen, were mentioned as reversionary heirs.

"'You are to sign your name here, Mr. Cashel,' said the solicitor, pointing to a carefully-scratched portion of the parchment, where already the initials were pencilled for his guidance.

"'Faith! and it's at the other side of the book I'd rather see it,' said the lieutenant, with a sigh.

"'Not, surely, after seventeen others!' exclaimed the astonished attorney.

"'Even so,--a chance is better than nothing.'

"'What's that he's saying?' interposed the old man, who sat reading his newspaper at the fire. The matter was soon explained by the attorney, and when he finished, Cashel added: 'That's just it; and I'm to sail for the Cape on the 4th of next month, and if you 'll put me down among the rest of the fellows, I 'll send you the best pipe of Constantia you ever tasted, as sure as my name is G.o.dfrey Cashel.'

"The old man threw his spectacles up on his forehead, wiped his eyes, and then, replacing his gla.s.ses, took a deliberate survey of the poor lieutenant who had proposed such a very 'soft' bargain. 'Eh! Clinchet,'

said he to the attorney, 'can we do this for him?'

"'Nothing easier, sir; let the gentleman come in last, as residuary legatee, and it alters nothing.'

"'I suppose you count on your good luck,' said old Browne, grinning.

"'Oh, then, it's not from my great experience that way.' said Cashel.

'I 've been on the "Duke's list" for promotion seventeen years already, and, for all I see, not a bit nearer than the first day; but there's no reason my poor boy should be such an unfortunate devil. Who knows but fortune may make amends to him one of these days? Come, sir, is it a bargain?'

"'To be sure. I 'm quite willing; only don't forget the Constantia. It's a wine I like a gla.s.s of very well indeed, after my dinner.'

"The remainder is easily told; the lieutenant sailed for the Cape, and kept his word, even though it cost him a debt that mortgaged his commission. Old Browne gave a great dinner when the wine arrived, and the very first name on the list of legatees, his nephew, caught a fever on his way home from it, and died in three weeks.

"Kennyf.e.c.k could tell us, if he were here, what became of each of them in succession; four were lost, out yachting, at once; but, singular as it may seem, in nineteen years from the day of that will, every life lapsed, and, stranger still, without heirs; and the fortune has now descended to poor G.o.dfrey Cashel's boy, the lieutenant himself having died in the West Indies, where he exchanged into a native regiment. That is the whole story; and probably in a romance one would say that the thing was exaggerated, so much more strange is truth than fiction."

"And what kind of education did the young man get?"

"I suppose very little, if any. So long as his father lived, he of course held the position of an officer's son,--poor, but in the rank of gentleman. After that, without parents,--his mother died when he was an infant,--he was thrown upon the world, and, after various vicissitudes, became a cabin boy on board of a merchantman; then he was said to be a mate of a vessel in the African trade employed on the Gold Coast,--just as probably a slaver; and, last of all, he was lieutenant in the Columbian navy,--which, I take it, is a very good name for piracy. It was in the Havannah we got a trace of him, and I a.s.sure you, strange as it may sound, Kennyf.e.c.k's agent had no small difficulty in persuading him to abandon that very free-and-easy service, to a.s.sume the rights and immunities of a very large property.

"Kennyf.e.c.k was to meet him on his arrival in England, about ten days ago, and they spent a few days in London, and were--But hark! there comes a carriage now,--yes, I know the step of his horses; here they are!"

CHAPTER VI. A FRACAS IN THE BETTING-RING.

Ne'er mind his torn, ill-fashioned doublet, Beshrew me! if he 's not a pretty man.

Don Lopez.

The movement and bustle in the hall showed that Mr. Jones's surmise was correct; for scarcely had the carriage stopped than the street-door was flung wide open, and Mr. Pea.r.s.e, the butler, followed by a strong detachment of bright-liveried menials, stood bowing their respectful compliments to their master and his guest. As Mr. Kennyf.e.c.k entered the house, he walked slowly and with difficulty, endeavoring at the same time to avoid all scrutiny of his appearance as he pa.s.sed through the crowded hall; but, although his hat was pressed firmly over his brows, it could not entirely conceal a very suspiciously tinted margin around one eye; while the care with which he defended his left arm, and which he carried in his waistcoat, looked like injury there also.

He, however, made an attempt at a little sprightliness of manner, as, shaking his companion's hand with cordial warmth, he said,--

"Welcome to Ireland, Mr. Cashel. I hope I shall very often experience the happiness of seeing you under this roof."

The person addressed was a remarkably handsome young man, whose air and carriage bespoke, however, much more the confidence that results from a sense of personal gifts, and a bold, daring temperament, than that more tempered ease which is the consequence of fashionable breeding.

Mr. Kennyf.e.c.k's felicitations on their arrival were scarce uttered ere Cashel had sufficiently recovered from his surprise at the unexpected magnificence of the house to make any reply; for, although as yet advanced no further than the hall, a marble group by Canova, a centre lamp of costly Sevres, and some chairs of carved ebony served to indicate the expensive style of the remainder of the mansion.

While Cashel, then, muttered his acknowledgments, he added to himself, but in a voice scarcely less loud,--

"Devilish good crib, this, Master Kennyf.e.c.k."

"Pea.r.s.e," said the host, "is dinner ready?"

"My mistress and the young ladies have dined, sir; but Mr. Jones and Mr.

Softly are in the parlor."

"Well, let us have something at once; or, would you prefer, Mr. Cashel, making any change in your dress first?"

"I say dinner above all things," said the youth, disenc.u.mbering himself of a great Mexican mantle.

"Perfectly right; quite agree with you," said Kennyf.e.c.k, endeavoring to a.s.sume a little of his guest's dash; "and here we are. Ah, Jones, how d'ye do? Mr. Cashel, this is my friend Mr. Jones. Mr. Softly, very glad to see you. Mr. Softly.--Mr. Cashel. Don't stir, I beg; keep your places. We 'll have a bit of dinner here, and join you at your wine afterwards. Meanwhile, I 'll just step upstairs, and be back again in a moment; you'll excuse me, I 'm sure."

"Oh, certainly," replied Cashel, who appeared as if he could excuse anything with a better grace than the ceremonious slowness of the butler's arrangements.

There was a pause of a few seconds as Mr. Kennyf.e.c.k left the room, broken, at last, by Mr. Jones asking if they had not been detained by contrary winds.

"No, I think not; I fancy the weather was pretty average kind of weather. Had we been expected here earlier?"

"Yes; Mrs. Kennyf.e.c.k mentioned to me Monday, and afterwards Tuesday, as the very latest day for your arrival."

Cashel made no remark; and, soon after, Mr. Pea.r.s.e's entrance with the soup put an end to the conversation. "Mr. Kennyf.e.c.k desired me to say, sir, not to wait for him; he'll be down presently."

"What do you call this soup?"

"Mock-turtle, sir."

"Rather too much Madeira in it for my taste; but that sha' n't prevent my having a gla.s.s of wine. Will you permit me, gentlemen?"

The parties bowed policy; but still the intercourse did not progress; and in the exchanged glances of those at the large table, and the sidelong looks Cashel occasionally threw towards them, it was easy to see that neither party had made way with the other.

"I fear Kennyf.e.c.k is not going to make his appearance," said Cashel, as he seemed to hesitate about proceeding with his dinner.

"I should n't advise you waiting," cried Jones; "the fish is growing cold."