Tales and Novels Volume VI Part 24

Lord Colambre's attention was now engaged by the view of the castle and park of Clonbrony. He had not seen it since he was six years old.

Some faint reminiscence from his childhood made him feel or fancy that he knew the place. It was a fine castle, s.p.a.cious park; but all about it, from the broken piers at the great entrance, to the mossy gravel and loose steps at the hall-door, had an air of desertion and melancholy. Walks overgrown, shrubberies wild, plantations run up into bare poles; fine trees cut down, and lying on the ground in lots to be sold. A hill that had been covered with an oak wood, where in his childhood our hero used to play, and which he called the black forest, was gone; nothing to be seen but the white stumps of the trees, for it had been freshly cut down, to make up the last remittances.--"And how it went, when sold!--but no matter," said Finnucan; "it's all alike.--It's the back way into the yard, I'll take you, I suppose."

"And such a yard! but it's no matter," repeated Lord Colambre to himself; "it's all alike."

In the kitchen, a great dinner was dressing for Mr. Garraghty's friends, who were to make merry with him when the business of the day was over.

"Where's the keys of the cellar, till I get out the claret for after dinner," says one; "and the wine for the cook--sure there's venison,"

cries another.--"Venison!--That's the way my lord's deer goes," says a third, laughing.--"Ay, sure! and very proper, when he's not here to eat 'em."--"Keep your nose out of the kitchen, young man, if you _plase_," said the agent's cook, shutting the door in Lord Colambre's face. "There's the way to the office, if you've money to pay, up the back stairs."

"No; up the grand staircase they must,--Mr. Garraghty ordered," said the footman; "because the office is damp for him, and it's not there he'll see any body to-day; but in my lady's dressing-room."

So up the grand staircase they went, and through the magnificent apartments, hung with pictures of great value, spoiling with damp.

"Then, isn't it a pity to see them? There's my lady, and all spoiling," said the widow.

Lord Colambre stopped before a portrait of Miss Nugent--"Shamefully damaged!" cried he.

"Pa.s.s on, or let me pa.s.s, if you _plase_," said one of the tenants; "and don't be stopping the door-way."

"I have business more nor you with the agent," said the surveyor; "where is he?"

"In the _presence-chamber_," replied another: "Where should the viceroy be but in the _presence-chamber_?"

There was a full levee, and fine smell of great coats.--"Oh! would you put your hats on the silk cushions?" said the widow to some men in the doorway, who were throwing off their greasy hats on a damask sofa.

"Why not? where else?"

"If the lady was in it, you wouldn't," said she, sighing.

"No, to be sure, I wouldn't: great news! would I make no _differ_ in the presence of Old Nick and my lady?" said he, in Irish. "Have I no sense or manners, good woman, think ye?" added he, as he shook the ink out of the pen on the Wilton carpet, when he had finished signing his name to a paper on his knee.

"You may wait long before you get to the speech of the great man,"

said another, who was working his way through numbers.

They continued pushing forward, till they came within sight of Mr.

Nicholas Garraghty, seated in state; and a worse countenance, or a more perfect picture of an insolent, petty tyrant in office, Lord Colambre had never beheld.

We forbear all further detail of this levee. "It's all the same!" as Lord Colambre repeated to himself, on every fresh instance of roguery or oppression to which he was witness; and having completely made up his mind on the subject, he sat down quietly in the back-ground, waiting till it should come to the widow's turn to be dealt with, for he was now interested only to see how she would be treated. The room gradually thinned I Mr. Dennis Garraghty came in, and sat down at the table, to help his brother to count the heaps of gold.

"Oh, Mr. Dennis, I'm glad to see you as kind as your promise, meeting me here," said the widow O'Neil, walking up to him;

"I'm sure you'll speak a good word for me: here's the _lases_--who will I offer this to?" said she, holding the _glove-money_ and _sealing-money_, "for I'm strange and ashamed."

"Oh, don't be ashamed--there's no strangeness in bringing money or taking it," said Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, holding out his hand. "Is this the proper compliment?"

"I hope so, sir: your honour knows best."

"Very well," slipping it into his private purse. "Now what's your business?"

"The _lases_ to sign--the rent's all paid up."

"Leases! Why, woman, is the possession given up?"

"It was, _plase_ your honour; and Mr. Dennis has the key of our little place in his pocket."

"Then I hope he'll keep it there. _Your_ little place--it's no longer yours; I've promised it to the surveyor. You don't think I'm such a fool as to renew to you at this rent."

"Mr. Dennis named the rent. But any thing your honour _plases_--any thing at all that we can pay."

"Oh, it's out of the question--put it out of your head. No rent you can offer would do, for I have promised it to the surveyor."

"Sir, Mr. Dennis knows my lord gave us his promise in writing of a renewal, on the back of the _ould lase_."

"Produce it."

"Here's the _lase_, but the promise is rubbed out."

"Nonsense! coming to me with a promise that's rubbed out. Who'll listen to that in a court of justice, do you think?"

"I don't know, plase your honour; but this I'm sure of, my lord and Miss Nugent, though but a child at the time, G.o.d bless her! who was by when my lord wrote it with his pencil, will remember it."

"Miss Nugent! what can she know of business?--What has she to do with the management of my Lord Clonbrony's estate, pray?"

"Management!--no, sir."

"Do you wish to get Miss Nugent turned out of the house?"

"Oh, G.o.d forbid!--how could that be?"

"Very easily; if you set about to make her meddle and witness in what my lord does not choose."

"Well, then, I'll never mention Miss Nugent's name in it at all, if it was ever so with me. But be _plased_, sir, to write over to my lord, and ask him; I'm sure he'll remember it."

"Write to my lord about such a trifle--trouble him about such nonsense!"

"I'd be sorry to trouble him. Then take it on my word, and believe me, sir; for I would not tell a lie, nor cheat rich or poor, if in my power, for the whole estate, nor the whole world: for there's an eye above."

"Cant! nonsense!--Take those leases off the table; I never will sign them. Walk off, ye canting hag; it's an imposition--I will never sign them."

"You _will_, then, sir," cried Brian, growing red with indignation; "for the law shall make you, so it shall; and you'd as good have been civil to my mother, whatever you did--for I'll stand by her while I've life; and I know she has right, and shall have law. I saw the memorandum written before ever it went into your hands, sir, whatever became of it after; and will swear to it too."

"Swear away, my good friend; much your swearing will avail in your own case in a court of justice," continued Old Nick.

"And against a gentleman of my brother's established character and property," said St. Dennis. "What's your mother's character against a gentleman's like his?"

"Character! take care how you go to that, any way, sir," cried Brian.

Grace put her hand before his mouth, to stop him.