The Evil Eye; Or, The Black Spector Part 5

"You think! why, d--n it, sir, do you not know whether you are or not?"

"May I ax, sir," inquired the other in his turn, "if you are a religious character?"

"WHy, what the devil has that to do with the matter in question?" said Woodward, beginning to lose his temper. "I ask you to direct me to the residence of a certain gentleman, and you ask me whether I am a religious character? What do you mean by that?"

"Why, sir," replied the man, "not much, I'm afeard--only if you had let me speak, which you didn't, G.o.d pardon you, I was going to say, that if you knew the way to heaven as well as I do to Misther Lindsay's you might call yourself a happy man, and born to luck."

Woodward looked with something of curiosity at his new companion, and was a good deal struck with his appearance. His age might be about twenty-eight or from that to thirty; his figure stout and well-made; his features were decidedly Milesian, but then they were Milesian of the best character; his mouth was firm, but his lips full, red, and handsome; his clear, merry eyes would puzzle one to determine whether they were gray or blue, so equally were the two colors blended in them.

After a very brief conversation with him, no one could doubt that humor formed a predominant trait in his disposition. In fact, the spirit of the forthcoming jest was visible in his countenance before the jest itself came forth; but although his whole features bore a careless and buoyant expression, yet there was no mistaking in them the unquestionable evidences of great shrewdness and good sense. He also indulged occasionally in an ironical and comic sarcasm, which, however, was never directed against his friends; this he reserved for certain individuals whose character ent.i.tled them to it at his hands. He also drew the long-bow, when he wished, with great skill and effect.

Woodward, after having scrutinized his countenance for some time, was about to make some inquiries, as a stranger, concerning his family and the reputation they bore in the neighborhood, when he found himself, considerably to his surprise, placed in the witness-box for a rather brisk fire of cross-examination.

"You are no stranger in this part of the country, I presume" said he, with a view of bringing him out for his own covert and somewhat ungenerous purposes.

"I am no stranger, sure enough, sir," replied the other, "so far as a good slice of the counthry side goes; but if I am not you are, sir, or I'm out in it."

"Yes, I am a stranger here."

"Never mind, sir, don't let that disthress you; it's a good, man's case, sir. Did you thravel far, wid submission? I spake in kindness, sir."

"Why, yes, a--a--pretty good distance; but about Mr. Lindsay and--"

"Yes, sir; crossed over, sir, I suppose? I mane from the other side?"

"O! you want to know if I crossed the Channel?"

"Had you a pleasant pa.s.sage, sir?"

"Yes, tolerable."

"Thank G.o.d! I hope you'll make a long stay with us, sir, in this part of the counthry. If you have any business to do with Mr. Lindsay--as of coorse you have--why, I don't think you and he will quarrel; and by the way, sir, I know him and the family well, and if I only got a glimpse, I could throw in a word or two to guide you in dalin' wid him--that is, if I knew the business."

"As to that," replied Woodward, "it is not very particular; I am only coming on a pretty long visit to him, and as you say you know the family, I would feel glad to hear what you think of them."

"Misther Lindsay, or rather Misther Charles, and you will have a fine time of it, sir. There's delightful fishin' here, and the best of shootin' and huntin' in harvest and winter--that is, if you stop so long."

"What kind of a man is Mr. Lindsay?"

"A fine, clever (*Portly, large, comely) man, sir; six feet in his stockin' soles, and made in proportion."

"But I want to know nothing about his figure; is the man reputed good or bad?"

"Why, just good or bad, sir, according as he's treated."

"Is he well liked, then? I trust you understand me now."

"By his friends, sir, no man betther--by them that's his enemies, not so well."

"You mentioned a son of his, Charles, I think; what kind of a young fellow is he?"

"Very like his father, sir."

"I see; well, I thank you, my friend, for the liberality of your information. Has he any daughters?"

"Two, sir; but very unlike their mother."

"Why, what kind of a woman is their mother?"

"She's a saint, sir, of a sartin cla.s.s--ever and always at her prayers,"

(_sotto voce_, "such as they are--cursing her fellow-cratures from mornin' till night.")

"Well, at all events, it is a good thing to be religious."

"Devil a better, sir; but she, as I said, is a saint from--heaven"

(_sotto voce_, "and very far from it too.) But, sir, there's a lady in this neighborhood--I won't name her--that has a tongue as sharp and poisonous as if she lived on rattlesnakes; and she has an eye of her own that they say is every bit as dangerous."

"And who is she, my good fellow?"

"Why, a very intimate friend of Mrs. Lindsay's, and seldom out of her company. Now, sir, do you see that house wid the tall chimleys, or rather do you see the tall chimleys--for you can't see the house itself?

That's where the family we spake of lives, and there you'll see Mrs.

Lindsay and the lady I mention."

Woodward, in fact, knew not what to make of his guide; he found him inscrutable, and deemed it useless to attempt the extortion of any further intelligence from him. The latter was ignorant that Mrs.

Lindsay's son was expected home, as was every member of that gentleman's family. He had, in fact, given them no information of his return.

The dishonest fraud which he had practised upon his uncle, and the apprehension that that good old man had transmitted an account of his delinquency to his relatives, prevented him from writing, lest he might, by subsequent falsehoods, contradict his uncle, and thereby involve himself in deeper disgrace. His uncle, however, was satisfied with having got rid of him, and forbore to render his relations unhappy by any complaint of his conduct. His hope was, that Woodward's expulsion from his house, and the withdrawal of his affections from him, might, upon reflection, cause him to turn over a new leaf--an effort which would have been difficult, perhaps impracticable, had he transmitted to them a full explanation of his perfidy and ingrat.i.tude.

A thought now occurred to Woodward with reference to himself. He saw that his guide, after having pointed out his father's house to him, was still keeping him company.

"Perhaps you are coming out of your way," said he; "you have been good enough to show me Mr. Lindsay's residence, and I have no further occasion for your services. I thank you: take this and drink my health;",and as he spoke he offered him some silver.

"Many thanks, sir," replied the man, in a far different tone of voice, "many thanks; but I never resave or take payment for an act of civility, especially from any gentleman on his way to the family of Mr. Lindsay.

And now, sir, I will tell you honestly and openly that there is not a better gentleman alive this day than he is. Himself, his son, and daughter* are loved and honored by all that know them; and woe betide the man that 'ud dare to crock (crook) his finger at one of them."

* His daughter Jane was with a relation in England, and does not appear in this romance.

"You seem to know them very well."

"I have a good right, sir, seein' that I have been in the family ever since I was a gorson."

"And is Mrs. Lindsay as popular as her husband?"

"She is his wife, sir--the mother of his children, and my misthress; afther that you may judge for yourself."

"Of course, then, you are aware that they have a son abroad."

"I am, sir, and a fine young man they say he is. Nothing vexes them so much as that he won't come to see them. He's never off their tongue; and if he's aquil to what they say of him, upon my credit the sun needn't take the trouble of shinin' on him."

"Have they any expectation of a visit from him, do you know'?"

"Not that I hear, sir; but I know that nothing would rise the c.o.c.kles of their hearts aquil to seein' him among them. Poor fellow! Mr. Hamilton's will was a bad business for him, as it was thought he'd have danced into the property. But then, they say, his other uncle will provide for him, especially as he took him from the family, by all accounts, on that condition."