The Knight Of Gwynne Volume II Part 2

"Oh, reverses of fortune!" interrupted Miss Daly, rapidly, "people think much more about them than they merit; it is the world itself makes them so difficult to bear; one can think and act as freely beneath the thatch of a cabin as the gilded roof of a palace. It is the mock sympathy, the affected condolence for your fallen estate, that tortures you; the never-ending recurrence to what you once were, contrasted with what you are; the cruelty of that friendship that is never content save when reminding you of a station lost forever, and seeking to unfit you for your humble path in the valley because your step was once proudly on the mountain-top."

"I will not concede all this," said the Knight, mildly; "my fall has been too recent not to remind me of many kindnesses."

"I hate pity," said Miss Daly; "it is like a recommendation to mercy after the sentence of an unjust judge. Now tell me of Lionel."

"A fine, high-spirited soldier, as little affected by his loss as though it touched him not; and yet, poor boy! to all appearance a bright career was about to open before him,--well received by the world, honored by the personal notice of his Prince."

"Ha! now I think of it, why did you not vote against the Minister?"

"It was on that evening," said Darcy, sorrowfully,--"on that very evening--I heard of Gleeson's flight."

"Well,"--then suddenly correcting herself, and restraining the question that almost trembled on her lip, she added, "And you were, doubtless, too much shocked to appear in the House?"

"I was ill," said Darcy, faintly; "indeed, I believe I can say with truth, my own ruin preyed less upon my mind than the perfidy of one so long confided in."

"And they made this accidental illness the ground of a great attack against your character, and sought to discover in your absence the secret of your corruption. How basely minded men must be, when they will invent not only actions, but motives to calumniate!" She paused, and then muttered to herself, "I wish you had voted against that Bill."

"It would have done little good," said the Knight, answering her soliloquy; "my vote could neither r.e.t.a.r.d nor prevent the measure, and as for myself, personally, I am proud enough to think I have given sufficient guarantees by a long life of independent action, not to need this crowning test of honesty. Now to matters nearer to us both: when will you come and visit my wife and daughter? or shall I bring them here to you?"

"No, no, not here. I am not ashamed of this place for myself, though I should be so if they were once to see it."

"But you feel less lonely," said Darcy, in a gentle tone, as if antic.i.p.ating the reason of her choice of residence.

"Less lonely!" replied she, with a haughty laugh; "what companionship or society have I with people like these? It is not that,--it is my poverty compels me to live here. Of them and of their habits I know nothing; from me and from mine they take good care to keep aloof. No, with your leave I will visit Lady Eleanor at your cottage,--that is, if she has no objection to receive me."

"She will be but too happy," said Darcy, "to know and value one of her husband's oldest and warmest friends."

"You must not expect me soon, however," said she, hastily; "I have grown capricious in everything, and never can answer for performing a pledge at any stated time, and therefore never make one."

Abrupt and sudden as had been the changes of her voice and manner through this interview, there was a tone of unusual harshness in the way this speech was uttered; and as Darcy rose to take his leave, a feeling of sadness came over him to think that this frame of mind must have been the slow result of years of heart-consuming sorrow.

"Whenever you come, Maria," said he, as he took her hand in his, "you will be most welcome to us."

"Have you heard any tidings of Forester?" said Miss Daly, as if suddenly recalling a subject she wished to speak on.

"Forester of the Guards? Lionel's friend, do you mean?"

"Yes; you know that he has left the army, thrown up his commission, and gone no one knows where?"

"I did not know of that before. I am sincerely sorry for it. Is the cause surmised?"

Miss Daly made no answer, but stood with her eyes bent on the ground, and apparently in deep thought; then looking up suddenly, she said, with more composure than ordinary, "Make my compliments to Lady Eleanor, and say that at the first favorable moment I will pay my personal respects to her--kiss Helen for me--good-bye." And, without waiting for Darcy to take his leave, she walked hastily by, and closed the door after her.

"This wayward manner," said Darcy, sorrowfully, to himself, "has a deeper root than mere capriciousness; the heart has suffered so long that the mind begins to partake of the decay." And with this sad reflection he left the village, and turned his solitary steps towards home.

If Darcy was grieved to find Miss Daly surrounded by such unsuitable companionship, he was more thau recompensed at finding that her taste rejected nearer intimacy with Mrs. Fumbally's household. More than once the fear crossed his mind that, with diminished circ.u.mstances, she might have lapsed into habits so different from her former life, and he could better look upon her struggling as she did against her adverse fortune than a.s.similating herself to those as much below her in sentiment as in station. He was happy to have seen his old friend once more, he was glad to refresh his memory of long-forgotten scenes by the sight of her who had been his playfellow and his companion, but he was not free of a certain dread that Miss Daly would scarcely be acceptable to his wife, while her wayward, uncertain temper would form no safe companionship for his daughter. As he pondered on these things, he began to feel how altered circ.u.mstances beget suspicion, and how he, who had never known the feeling of distrust, now found himself hesitating and doubting, where formerly he had acted without fear or reserve.

"Yes," said he, aloud, "when wealth and station were mine, the consciousness of power gave energy to my thoughts, but now I am to learn how narrow means can fetter a man's courage."

"Some truth in that," said a voice behind him; "would cut a very different figure myself if old Bob Dempsey, of Dempsey Grove, were to betake himself to a better world."

Darcy's cheek reddened between shame and anger to find himself overheard by his obtrusive companion, and, with a cold salute, he pa.s.sed on. Mr.

Dempsey, however, was not a man to be so easily got rid of; he possessed that happy temper that renders its owner insensible to shame and unconscious of rebuke; besides that, he was always "going your way,"

quite content to submit to any amount of rebuff rather than be alone.

If you talked, it was well; if you listened, it was better; but if you affected open indifference to him, and neither exchanged a word nor vouchsafed the slightest attention, even that was supportable, for he could give the conversation a character of monologue or anecdote, which occupied himself at least.

CHAPTER II. A TALE OF MR. DEMPSEY'S GRANDFATHER

The Knight of Gwynne was far too much occupied in his own reflections to attend to his companion, and exhibited a total unconcern to several piquant little narratives of Mrs. Mackie's dexterity in dealing the cards, of Mrs. Fumbally's parsimony in domestic arrangements, of Miss Boyle's effrontery, of Leonard's intemperance, and even of Miss Daly's a.s.sumed superiority.

"You 're taking the wrong path," said Mr. Dempsey, suddenly interrupting one of his own narratives, at a spot where the two roads diverged,--one proceeding inland, while the other followed the line of the coast.

"With your leave, sir," said Darcy, coldly, "I will take this way, and if you 'll kindly permit it, I will do so alone."

"Oh, certainly!" said Dempsey, without the slightest sign of umbrage; "would never have thought of joining you had it not been from overhearing an expression so exactly pat to my own condition, that I thought we were brothers in misfortune; you scarcely bear up as well as I do, though."

Darcy turned abruptly round, as the fear flashed across him, and he muttered to himself, "This fellow knows me; if so, the whole county will soon be as wise as himself, and the place become intolerable." Oppressed with this unpleasant reflection, the Knight moved on, nor was it till after a considerable interval that he was conscious of his companion's presence; for Mr. Dempsey still accompanied him, though at the distance of several paces, and as if following a path of his own choosing.

Darcy laughed good-humoredly at the pertinacity of his tormentor; and half amused by the man, and half ashamed of his own rudeness to him, he made some casual observation on the scenery to open a reconciliation.

"The coast is much finer," said Dempsey, "close to your cottage."

This was a home-thrust for the Knight, to show him that concealment was of no use against so subtle an adversary.

"'The Corvy' is, as you observe, very happily situated," replied Darcy, calmly; "I scarcely know which to prefer,--the coast-line towards Dunluce, or the bold cliffs that stretch away to Bengore."

"When the wind comes north-by-west," said Dempsey, with a shrewd glance of his greenish gray eyes, "there 's always a wreck or two between the Skerries and Portrush."

"Indeed! Is the sh.o.r.e so unsafe as that?"

"Oh, yes. You may expect a very busy winter here when the homeward-bound Americans are coming northward."

"D----n the fellow! does he take me for a wrecker?" said Darcy to himself, not knowing whether to laugh or be angry.

"Such a curiosity that old 'Corvy' is, they tell me," said Dempsey, emboldened by his success; "every species of weapon and arm in the world, they say, gathered together there."

"A few swords and muskets," said the Knight, carelessly; "a stray dirk or two, and some harpoons, furnish the greater part of the armory."

"Oh, perhaps so! The story goes, however, that old Daly--brother, I believe, of our friend at Mother Fum's--could arm twenty fellows at a moment's warning, and did so on more than one occasion too."

"With what object, in Heaven's name?"

"Buccaneering, piracy, wrecking, and so on," said Dempsey, with all the unconcern with which he would have enumerated so many pursuits of the chase.