Tales and Novels Volume IX Part 45

Sir Ulick O'Shane wrote to Harry that he was at this time _peculiarly_ engaged with affairs of his own. He said, that as to the material point of the money lodged for the commission, he would see the executrix, and do what he could to have that settled; but as to all lesser points, Sir Ulick said, he really had not leisure to answer letters at present. He enclosed a note to Dr. Cambray, whom he recommended it to his ward to consult, and whose advice and a.s.sistance he now requested for him in pressing terms.

In consequence of this direct application from the young gentleman's guardian, Dr. Cambray felt himself authorized and called upon to interfere, where, otherwise, delicacy might have prevented him. It was fortunate for Ormond that he had Dr. Cambray's counsel to guide him, or else he would, in the first moments of feeling, have yielded too much to the suggestions of both grat.i.tude and pride.

In the first impulse of generous pride, Ormond wanted to give up the farm which his benefactor had left him, because he wished that no possible suspicion of interested motives having influenced his attachment to Cornelius O'Shane should exist, especially with Mr.

Connal, who, as the husband of Dora, would soon be the lord of all in the Black Islands.

On the other hand, when Mr. Connal wrote to him, that the executrix, having no written order from the deceased to that effect, could not pay the five hundred pounds, lodged in the bank, for his commission, Ormond was on the point of flying out with intemperate indignation. "Was not his own word sufficient? Was not the intention of his benefactor apparent from the letters? Would not this justify any executor, any person of common sense or honour?"

Dr. Cambray, his experienced and placid counsellor, brought all these sentiments to due measure by mildly showing what was law and justice, and what was fit and proper in each case; putting jealous honour, and romantic generosity, as they must be put, out of the question in business.

He prevented Ormond from embroiling himself with Connal about the legacy, and from giving up his farm. He persuaded him to decline having any thing to do with the affairs of the Black Islands.

A proper agent was appointed, who saw Ormond's accounts settled and signed, so that no blame or suspicion could rest upon him.

"There seems no probability, Mr. Ormond," said Dr. Cambray, "of your commission being immediately purchased. Your guardian, Sir Ulick O'Shane, will be detained some time longer, I understand, in Dublin. You are in a desolate situation here--you have now done all that you ought to do--leave these Black Islands, and come to Vicar's Dale: you will find there a cheerful family, and means of spending your time more agreeably, perhaps more profitably, than you can have here. I am sensible that no new friends _can_ supply to you the place of him you have lost; but you will find pleasure in the perception, that you have, by your own merit, attached to you one friend in me, who will do all in his power to soothe and serve you.--Will you _trust_ yourself to me?"

added he, smiling, "You have already found that I do not flatter. Will you come to us?--The sooner the better--to-morrow, if you can."

It scarcely need be said, that this invitation was most cordially accepted. Next day Ormond was to leave the Black Islands. Sheelah was in despair when she found he was going: the child hung upon him so that he could hardly get out of the house, till Moriarty promised to return for the boy, and carry him over in the boat often, to see Mr. Ormond.

Moriarty would not stay in the islands himself, he said, after Harry went: he let the cabin and little tenement which O'Shane had given him, and the rent was to be paid him by the agent. Ormond went, for the last time, that morning, to Ormond's Vale, to settle his own affairs there: he and Moriarty took an unusual path across this part of the island to the waterside, that they might avoid that which they had followed the last time they were out, on the day of Corny's death. They went, therefore, across a lone tract of heath-bog, where, for a considerable time, they saw no living being.

On this bog, of which Cornelius O'Shane had given Moriarty a share, the grateful poor fellow had, the year before, amused himself with cutting in large letters of about a yard long the words

"LONG LIVE KING CORNY."

He had sowed the letters with broom-seed in the spring, and had since forgotten ever to look at them; but they were now green, and struck the eye.

"Think then of this being all the trace that's left of him on the face of the earth!" said Moriarty. "I'm glad that I did even that same."

After crossing this lone bog, when they came to the waterside, they found a great crowd of people, seemingly all the inhabitants of the islands, a.s.sembled there, waiting to take leave of Master Harry; and each of them was cheered by a kind word and a look, before they would let him step into the boat.

"Ay, go _to the continent_," said Sheelah, "ay, go to fifty continents, and in all Ireland you'll not find hearts warmer to you than those of the Black Islands, that knows you best from a child, Master Harry dear."

CHAPTER XVIII.

Ormond was received with much kindness in Dr. Cambray's family, in which he felt himself at ease, and soon forgot that he was a stranger: his mind, however, was anxious about his situation, as he longed to get into active life. Every morning, when the post came in, he hoped there would be a letter for him with his commission; and he was every morning regularly surprised and disappointed, on finding that there was none. In the course of each ensuing day, however, he forgot his disappointment, and said he believed he was happier where he was than he could be any where else. The regular morning question of "Any letters for me?" was at last answered by "Yes; one franked by Sir Ulick O'Shane." "Ah! no commission--I feel no enclosure--single letter--no! double." Double or single, it was as follows:--

"DEAR HARRY,

At last I have seen the executrix and son-in-law, whom that great genius deceased, my well-beloved cousin in folly, King Corny, chose for himself. As to that thing, half mud, half tinsel, half Irish, half French, Miss, or Mademoiselle, O'Faley, that jointed doll, is--all but the eyes, which move of themselves in a very extraordinary way--a mere puppet, pulled by wires in the hands of another. The master showman, fully as extraordinary in his own way as his puppet, kept, while I was by, as much as possible behind the scenes. The hand and ruffle of the French pet.i.t-maitre, and the prompter's voice, however, were visible and audible enough for me. In plain English, I suppose it is no news to you to hear that Mdlle. O'Faley is a fool, and Monsieur de Connal, Captain O'Connal, Black Connal, or by whatever other _alias_ he is to be called, is _properly_ a puppy. I am sorry, my dear boy, to tell you that the fool has let the rogue get hold of the five hundred pounds lodged in the bank--so no hopes of your commission for three months, or at the least two months to come. My dear boy, your much-lamented friend and benefactor (is not that the style?), King Corny, who began, I think, by being, years ago, to your admiration, his own tailor, has ended, I fear to your loss, by being his own lawyer: he has drawn his will so that any attorney could drive a coach and six through it--so ends 'every man his own lawyer.' Forgive me this laugh, Harry. By-the-bye, you, my dear ward, will be of age in December, I think--then all my legal power of interference ceases.

"Meantime, as I know you will be out of spirits when you read this, I have some comfort for you and myself, which I kept for a bonne-bouche--you will never more see Lady O'Shane, nor I either.

Articles of separation--and I didn't trust myself to be my own lawyer--have been signed between us: so I shall see her ladyship sail for England this night--won't let any one have the pleasure of putting her on board but myself--I will see her safe off, and feel well a.s.sured nothing can tempt her to return--even to haunt me--or scold you. This was the business which detained me in Dublin--well worth while to give up a summer to secure, for the rest of one's days, liberty to lead a bachelor's merry life, which I mean to do at Castle Hermitage or elsewhere, now and from henceforth--Miss Black in no ways notwithstanding. Miss Black, it is but justice to tell you, is now convinced of my conjugal virtues, and admires my patience as much as she used to admire Lady O'Shane's. She has been very useful to me in arranging my affairs in this separation--_in consequence_, I have procured a commission of the peace for a certain Mr. M'Crule, a man whom you may remember to have seen or heard at the bottom or corner of the table at Castle Hermitage, one of the _Cromwellians_, a fellow with the true draw-down of the mouth, and who speaks, or snorts, through his nose. I have caused him, not without some difficulty, to ask Miss Black to be his helpmate (Lord _help_ him and forgive me!); and Miss Black, preferring rather to stay in Ireland and become Mrs. M'Crule than to return to England and continue companion to Lady O'Shane, hath consented (who can blame her?) to marry on the spur of the occasion--to-morrow--I giving her away--you may imagine with what satisfaction. What with marriages and separations, the business of the nation, my bank, my ca.n.a.l, and my coal-mines, you may guess my hands have been full of business. Now, all for pleasure! next week I hope to be down enjoying my liberty at Castle Hermitage, where I shall be heartily glad to have my dear Harry again. Marcus in England still--the poor Annalys in great distress about the son, with whom, I fear, it is all over. No time for more. Measure my affection by the length of this, the longest epistle extant in my hand-writing.

"My dear boy, yours ever,

"Ulick O'Shane."

The mixed and crossing emotions which this letter was calculated to excite having crossed, and mixed, and subsided a little, the predominating feeling was expressed by our young hero with a sigh, and this reflection: "Two months at the least! I must wait before I can have my commission--two months more in idleness the fates have decreed."

"That last is a part of the decree that depends on yourself, not on the fates. Two months you must wait, but why in idleness?" said Dr. Cambray.

The kind and prudent doctor did not press the question--he was content with its being heard, knowing that it would sink into the mind and produce its effect in due season. Accordingly, after some time, after Ormond had exhaled impatience, and exhausted invective, and submitted to necessity, he returned to reason with the doctor. One evening, when the doctor and his family had returned from walking, and as the tea-urn was just coming in bubbling and steaming, Ormond set to work at a corner of the table, at the doctor's elbow.

"My dear doctor, suppose I was now to read over to you my list of books."

"Suppose you were, and suppose I was to fall asleep," said the doctor.

"Not the least likely, sir, when you are to do any thing kind for a friend--may I say friend?"

"You may. Come, read on--I am not proof against flattery, even at my age--well, read away."

Ormond began; but at that moment there drove past the windows a travelling chariot and four.

"Sir Ulick O'Shane, as I live!" cried Ormond, starting up. "I saw him--he nodded to me. Oh! no, impossible--he said he would not come till next week--Where's his letter?--What's the date?--Could it mean this week?--No, he says next week quite plainly--What can be the reason?"

A note for Mr. Ormond was brought in, which had been left by one of Sir Ulick O'Shane's servants as they went by.

"My commission, after all," cried Harry. "I always knew, I always said, that Sir Ulick was a good friend."

"Has he purchased the commission?" said Dr. Cambray.

"He does not actually say so, but that must be what his note means,"

said Ormond.

"Means! but what does it say?--May I see it?"

"It is written in such a hurry, and in pencil, you'll not be able to make it out."

The doctor, however, read aloud--

"If Mr. Harry Ormond will inquire at Castle Hermitage, he will hear of something to his advantage.

"U. O'SHANE."

"Go off this minute," said Mrs. Cambray, "and inquire at Castle Hermitage what Mr. Harry Ormond may hear to his advantage, and let us learn it as soon as possible."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Harry; and ere the words were well uttered, a hundred steps were lost.

With more than his usual cordiality, Sir Ulick O'Shane received him, came out into the hall to meet his dear Harry, his own dear boy, to welcome him again to Castle Hermitage.

"We did not expect you, sir, till next week--this is a most agreeable surprise. Did you not say--"

"No matter what I said--you see what I have done," interrupted Sir Ulick; "and now I must introduce you to a niece of mine, whom you have never yet seen--Lady Norton, a charming, well-bred, pleasant little widow, whose husband died, luckily for her and me, just when they had run out all their large fortune. She is delighted to come to me, and is just the thing to do the honours of Castle Hermitage--used to the style; but observe, though she is to rule my roast and my boiled, she is not to rule me or my friends--that is a preliminary, and a special clause for Harry Ormond's being a privileged _ami de la maison_. Now, my dear fellow, you understand how the land lies; and depend upon it, you'll like her, and find her every way of _great advantage to you_."

So, thought Harry, is this all the advantage I am to hear of?