Tales and Novels Volume VI Part 15

"The major looks so like a stuffed man of straw," whispered Lady Dashfort to Lord Colambre, "and the captain so like the king of spades, putting forth one manly leg."

Count O'Halloran now turned the conversation to field sports, and then the captain and major opened at once.

"Pray now, sir," said the major, "you fox-hunt in this country, I suppose; and now do you manage the thing here as we do? Over night, you know, before the hunt, when the fox is out, stopping up the earths of the cover we mean to draw, and all the rest for four miles round.

Next morning we a.s.semble at the cover's side, and the huntsman throws in the hounds. The gossip here is no small part of the entertainment: but as soon as we hear the hounds give tongue--"

"The favourite hounds," interposed Williamson.

"The favourite hounds, to be sure," continued Benson: "there is a dead silence till pug is well out of cover, and the whole pack well in: then cheer the hounds with tally-ho! till your lungs crack. Away he goes in gallant style, and the whole field is hard up, till pug takes a stiff country: then they who haven't pluck lag, see no more of him, and, with a fine blazing scent, there are but few of us in at the death."

"Well, we are fairly in at the death, I hope," said Lady Dashfort: "I was thrown out sadly at one time in the chase."

Lord Colambre, with the count's permission, took up a book in which the count's pencil lay, "Pasley on the Military Policy of Great Britain;" it was marked with many notes of admiration, and with hands pointing to remarkable pa.s.sages.

"That is a book that leaves a strong impression on the mind," said the count.

Lord Colambre read one of the marked pa.s.sages, beginning with "All that distinguishes a soldier in outward appearance from a citizen is so trifling--" but at this instant our hero's attention was distracted by seeing in a black-letter book this t.i.tle of a chapter: "Burial-place of the Nugents."

"Pray now, sir," said Captain Williamson, "if I don't interrupt you, as you are a fisherman too; now in Ireland do you, _Mr._--"

A smart pinch on his elbow from his major, who stood behind him, stopped the captain short, as he p.r.o.nounced the word _Mr._ Like all awkward people, he turned directly to ask, by his looks, what was the matter.

The major took advantage of his discomfiture, and, stepping before him, determined to have the fishing to himself, and went on with, "Count O'Halloran, I presume you understand fishing, too, as well as hunting?"

The count bowed: "I do not presume to say that, sir."

"But pray, count, in this country, do you arm your hook this ways?

Give me leave;" taking the whip from Williamson's reluctant hand, "this ways, laying the outermost part of your feather this fashion next to your hook, and the point next to your shank, this wise, and that wise; and then, sir,--count, you take the hackle of a c.o.c.k's neck--"

"A plover's topping's better," said Williamson.

"And work your gold and silver thread," pursued Benson, "up to your wings, and when your head's made, you fasten all."

"But you never showed how your head's made," interrupted Williamson.

"The gentleman knows how a head's made; any man can make a head, I suppose: so, sir, you fasten all."

"You'll never get your head fast on that way, while the world stands,"

cried Williamson.

"Fast enough for all purposes; I'll bet you a rump and dozen, captain: and then, sir,--count, you divide your wings with a needle."

"A pin's point will do," said Williamson.

The count, to reconcile matters, produced from an Indian cabinet, which he had opened for Lady Dashfort's inspection, a little basket containing a variety of artificial flies of curious construction, which, as he spread them on the table, made Williamson and Benson's eyes almost sparkle with delight. There was the _dun-fly_, for the month of March; and the _stone-fly_, much in vogue for April; and the _ruddy-fly_, of red wool, black silk, and red capon's feathers.

Lord Colambre, whose head was in the burial-place of the Nugents, wished them all at the bottom of the sea.

"And the _green-fly_, and the _moorish-fly_!" cried Benson, s.n.a.t.c.hing them up with transport; "and, chief, the _sad-yellow-fly_, in which the fish delight in June; the _sad-yellow-fly_, made with the buzzard's wings, bound with black braked hemp, and the _sh.e.l.l-fly_, for the middle of July, made of greenish wool, wrapped about with the herle of a peac.o.c.k's tail, famous for creating excellent sport." All these and more were spread upon the table before the sportsmen's wondering eyes.

"Capital flies! capital, faith!" cried Williamson.

"Treasures, faith, real treasures, by G--!" cried Benson.

"Eh! 'pon honour! re'lly now," were the first words which Heathc.o.c.k had uttered since his battle with the goat.

"My dear Heathc.o.c.k, are you alive still?" said Lady Dashfort: "I had really forgotten your existence."

So had Count O'Halloran, but he did not say so.

"Your ladyship has the advantage of me there," said Heathc.o.c.k, stretching himself; "I wish I could forget my existence, for, in my mind, existence is a horrible _bore_."

"I thought you _was_ a sportsman," said Williamson.

"Well, sir?"

"And a fisherman?"

"Well, sir?"

"Why look you there, sir," pointing to the flies, "and tell a body life's a bore."

"One can't _always_ fish or shoot, I apprehend, sir," said Heathc.o.c.k.

"Not always--but sometimes," said Williamson, laughing; "for I suspect shrewdly you've forgot some of your sporting in Bond-street."

"Eh! 'pon honour! re'lly now!" said the colonel, retreating again to his safe entrenchment of affectation, from which he never could venture without imminent danger.

"'Pon honour," cried Lady Dashfort, "I can swear for Heathc.o.c.k, that I have eaten excellent hares and ducks of his shooting, which, to my knowledge," added she, in a loud whisper, "he bought in the market."

"_Emptum aprum!_" said Lord Colambre to the count, without danger of being understood by those whom it concerned.

The count smiled a second time; but politely turning the attention of the company from the unfortunate colonel, by addressing himself to the laughing sportsmen, "Gentlemen, you seem to value these," said he, sweeping the artificial flies from the table into the little basket from which they had been taken; "would you do me the honour to accept of them? They are all of my own making, and consequently of Irish manufacture." Then, ringing the bell, he asked Lady Dashfort's permission to have the basket put into her carriage.

Benson and Williamson followed the servant, to prevent them from being tossed into the boot. Heathc.o.c.k stood still in the middle of the room, taking snuff.

Count O'Halloran turned from him to Lord Colambre, who had just got happily to _the burial-place of the Nugents_, when Lady Dashfort, coming between them, and spying the t.i.tle of the chapter, exclaimed, "What have you there?--Antiquities! my delight!--but I never look at engravings when I can see realities."

Lord Colambre was then compelled to follow, as she led the way, into the hall, where the count took down golden ornaments, and bra.s.s-headed spears, and jointed horns of curious workmanship, that had been found on his estate; and he told of spermaceti wrapped in carpets, and he showed small urns, enclosing ashes; and from among these urns he selected one, which he put into the hands of Lord Colambre, telling him, that it had been lately found in an old abbey-ground in his neighbourhood, which had been the burial-place of some of the Nugent family.

"I was just looking at the account of it, in the book which you saw open on my table.--And as you seem to take an interest in that family, my lord, perhaps," said the count, "you may think this urn worth your acceptance."

Lord Colambre said, "It would be highly valuable to him--as the Nugents were his near relations."

Lady Dashfort little expected this blow; she, however, carried him off to the moose-deer, and from moose-deer to round-towers, to various architectural antiquities, and to the real and fabulous history of Ireland, on all which the count spoke with learning and enthusiasm.

But now, to Colonel Heathc.o.c.k's great joy and relief, a handsome collation appeared in the dining-room, of which Ulick opened the folding-doors.

"Count, you have made an excellent house of your castle," said Lady Dashfort.