The Knight Of Gwynne Volume II Part 24

"But it need not, madam," interposed I; "or, at all events, it may be rendered very brief. I sought an opportunity of speaking to you, in the hope that whatever impressions you may have received of my conduct in Ireland were either exaggerated or unjust; that I might convince you, however I may have erred in prudence or judgment, I have transgressed neither in honor nor good faith."

"Vindications," said my mother, "are very weak things in the face of direct facts. Did you, or did you not, resign your appointment on the viceroy's staff--I stop not to ask with what scant courtesy--that you might be free to rove over the country, on some knight-errant absurdity?

Did you, after having one disreputable quarrel in the same neighborhood, again involve yourself and your name in an affair with a notorious mob-orator and disturber, and thus become the 'celebrity' of the newspapers for at least a fortnight? And lastly, when I hoped, by absence from England, and foreign service, to erase the memory of these follies--to give them no harsher name,--did you not refuse the appointment, and without advice or permission sell out of the army altogether?"

"Without adverting to the motives, madam, you have so kindly attributed to me, I beg to say 'yes' to all your questions. I am no longer an officer in his Majesty's service."

"Nor any longer a member of _my_ family, sir," said my mother, pa.s.sionately; "at least so far as the will rests with me. A gentleman so very independent in his principles is doubtless not less so in his circ.u.mstances. You are ent.i.tled to five thousand pounds only, by your father's will: this, if I mistake not, you have received and spent many a day ago. I will not advert to what my original intentions in your behalf were; they are recorded, however, in this paper, which you, my Lord, have read." Here her Ladyship drew forth a doc.u.ment, like a law-paper, while the Earl bowed a deep acquiescence, and muttered something like--"Very generous and n.o.ble-minded, indeed!"

"Yes, sir," resumed my mother, "I had no other thought or object, save in establishing you in a position suitable to your name and family; you have thought fit to oppose my wishes on every point, and here I end the vain struggle." So saying, she tore the paper in pieces, and threw the fragments into the fire.

A deep silence ensued, which I, for many reasons, had no inducement to break. The Earl coughed and hemmed three or four times, as though endeavoring to hit upon something that might relieve the general embarra.s.sment, but my mother was again the first to speak.

"I have no doubt, sir, you have determined on some future career. I am not indiscreet enough to inquire what; but that you may not enter upon it quite unprovided, I have settled upon you the sum of four hundred pounds yearly. Do not mistake me, nor suppose that this act proceeds from any lingering hope on my part that you will attempt to retrace your false steps, and recover the lost place in my affection. I am too well acquainted with the family gift of determination, as it is flatteringly styled, to think so. You owe this consideration entirely to the kind interference of the Earl of Netherby. Nay, my Lord, it is but fair that you should have any merit the act confers, where you have incurred all the responsibility."

"I will relieve his Lordship of both," said I. "I beg to decline your Ladyship's generosity and his Lordship's kindness, with the self-same feeling of respect."

"My dear Captain Forester, wait one moment," said Lord Netherby, taking my arm. "Let me speak to you, even for a few moments."

"You mistake him, my Lord," said my mother, with a scornful smile, while she arose to leave the room,--"you mistake him much."

"Pray hear me out," said Lord Netherby, taking my hand in both his own.

"It is no time, nor a case for any rash resolves," whispered he; "Lady Wallincourt has been misinformed,--her mind has been warped by stories of one kind or other. Go to her, explain fully and openly everything."

"Her Ladyship is gone, my Lord," exclaimed I, stopping him.

Yes, she had left the room while we were yet speaking. This was my last adieu from my mother! I remember little more, though Lord Netherby detained me still some time, and spoke with much kindness; indeed, throughout, his conduct was graceful and good-natured.

Why should I weary you longer? Why speak of the long dreary night, and the longer day that followed this scene,--swayed by different impulses,-now hoping and fearing alternately,--not daring to seek counsel from my friends, because I well knew what worldly advice would be given,--I was wretched. In the very depth of my despondency, like a ray of sunlight darting through some crevice of a prisoner's cell, came your own words to me, "Be a soldier in more than garb or name, be one in the generous ardor of a bold career. Let it be your boast that you started fairly in the race, and so distanced your compet.i.tors." I caught at the suggestion with avidity. I was no more depressed or down-hearted.

I felt as if, throwing off my load of care, a better and a brighter day was about to break for me; the same evening I left London for Plymouth, and became a volunteer.

Before concluding these lines, I would ask why you tell me no more of Miss Darcy than that "she is well, and, the reverse of her fortune considered, in spirits." Am I to learn no more than that? Will you not say if my name is ever spoken by or before her? How am I remembered? Has time-have my changed fortunes softened her stern determination towards me? Would that I could know this,--would that I could divine what may lurk in her heart of compa.s.sionate pity for one who resigned all for her love, and lost! With all my grat.i.tude for your kindness, when I well-nigh believed none remained in the world for me,

I am, yours in sincere affection,

Richard Forester.

I forgot to ask if you can read one strange mystery of this business, at least so the words seem to imply. Lord Netherby said, when endeavoring to dissuade me from leaving my mother's house, "Remember, Captain Forester, that Lady Wallincourt's prejudices regarding your Irish friends have something stronger than mere caprice to strengthen them.

You must not ask her to forget as well as forgive, all at once." Can you interpret this riddle for me? for although at the time it made little impression, it recurs to my mind now twenty times a day.

Here concluded Forester's letter. A single line in pencil was written at the foot, and signed "M. D. ": "I am a bad prophet, or the volunteer will turn out better than the aide-de-camp."

CHAPTER XV. A DINNER AT COM HEFFERNAN'S

When the Union was carried, and the new order of affairs in Ireland a.s.sumed an appearance of permanence, a general feeling of discontent began to exhibit itself in every cla.s.s in the capital. The patriots saw themselves neglected by the Government, without having reaped in popularity a recompense for their independence. The mercantile interest perceived, even already, the falling off in trade from the removal of a wealthy aristocracy; and the supporters of the Minister, or such few as still lingered in Dublin, began to suspect how much higher terms they might have exacted for their adhesion, had they only antic.i.p.ated the immensity of the sacrifice to which they contributed.

Save that comparatively small number who had bargained for English peerages and English rank, and had thereby bartered their nationality, none were satisfied.

Even the moderate men--that intelligent fraction who believe that no changes are fraught with one half the good or evil their advocates or opponents imagine--even they were disappointed on finding that the incorporation of the Irish Parliament with that of England was the chief element of the new measure, and no more intimate or solid Union contemplated. The shrewd men of every party saw not only how difficult would be the future government of the country, but that the critical moment was come which should decide into whose hands the chief influence would fall. Among these speculators on the future, Mr. Heffernan held a prominent place. No man knew better the secret machinery of office, none had seen more of that game, half fair, half foul, by which an administration is sustained. He knew, moreover, the character and capability of every public man in Ireland, had been privy to their waverings and hesitations, and even their bargains with the Crown; he knew where gratified ambition had rendered a new peer indifferent to a future temptation, and also where abortive negotiations had sowed the seeds of a lingering disaffection.

To construct a new party from these scattered elements--a party which, possessing wealth and station, had not yet tasted any of the sweets of patronage--was the task he now proposed to himself. By this party, of whom he himself was to be the organ, he hoped to control the Minister, and support him by turns. Of those already purchased by the Government, few would care to involve themselves once more in the fatigues of a public life. Many would gladly repose on the rewards of their victory; many would shrink from the obloquy their reappearance would inevitably excite. Mr. Heffernan had then to choose his friends either from that moderate section of politicians whom scruples of conscience or inferiority of ability had left un-bought, or the more energetic faction, suddenly called into existence by the success of the French Revolution, and of which O'Halloran was the leader. For many reasons his choice fell on the former. Not only because they possessed that standing and influence which, derived from property, would be most regarded in England, but that their direction and guidance would be an easier task; whereas the others, more numerous and more needy, could only be purchased by actual place or pension, while in O'Halloran Heffernan would always have a dangerous rival, who, if he played subordinate for a while, it would only be at the price of absolute rule hereafter.

From the moment Lord Castlereagh withdrew from Ireland, Mr. Heffernan commenced his intrigue,--at first by a tour of visits through the country, in which he contrived to sound the opinions of a great number of persons, and subsequently by correspondence, so artfully sustained as to induce many to commit themselves to a direct line of action which, when discussing, they had never speculated on seeing realized.

With a subtlety of no common kind, and an indefatigable industry, Heffernan labored in the cause during the summer and autumn, and with such success that there was scarcely a county in Ireland where he had not secured some leading adherent, while for many of the boroughs he had already entered into plans for the support of new candidates of his own opinions.

The views he put forward were simply these: Ireland can no longer be governed by an oligarchy, however powerful. It must be ruled either by the weight and influence of the country gentlemen, or left to the mercy of the demagogue. The gentry must be rewarded for their adhesion, and enabled to maintain their pre-eminence, by handing over to them the patronage, not in part or in fractions, but wholly and solely. Every civil appointment must be filled up by them,--the Church, the law, the revenue, the police, must all be theirs. "The great aristocracy,"

said he, "have obtained the marquisates and earldoms; bishoprics and governments have rewarded their services. It is now _our_ turn; and if our prizes be less splendid and showy, they are not devoid of some sterling qualities.

"To make Ireland ungovernable without us must be our aim and object,--to embarra.s.s and confound every administration, to oppose the ministers, pervert their good objects, and exaggerate their bad. Pledged to no distinct line of acting, we can be patriotic when it suits us, and declaim on popular rights when nothing better offers. Acting in concert, and diffusing an influence in every county and town and corporation, what ministry can long resist us, or what government anxious for office would refuse to make terms with us? With station to influence society, wealth to buy the press, activity to watch and counteract our enemies, I see nothing which can arrest our progress. We must and will succeed."

Such was the conclusion of a letter he wrote to one of his most trusted allies,--a letter written to invite his presence in Dublin, where a meeting of the leading men of the new party was to be held, and their engagements for the future determined upon.

For this meeting Heffernan made the greatest exertions, not only that it might include a great portion of the wealth and influence of the land, but that a degree of _eclat_ and splendor should attend it, the more likely to attract notice from the secrecy maintained as to its object and intention. Many were invited on the consideration of the display their presence would make in the capital; and not a few were tempted by the opportunity for exhibiting their equipages and their liveries at a season when the recognized leaders of fashion were absent.

It is no part of our object to dwell on this well-known intrigue, one which at the time occupied no small share of public attention, and even excited the curiosity and the fears of the Government. Enough when we say that Mr. Heffernan's disappointments were numerous and severe.

Letters of apology, some couched in terms of ambiguous cordiality, others less equivocally cold, came pouring in for the last fortnight.

The n.o.ble lord destined to fill the chair regretted deeply that domestic affairs of a most pressing nature would not permit of his presence. The baronet who should move the first resolution would be compelled to be absent from Ireland; the seconder was laid up with the gout. Scarcely a single person of influence had promised his attendance: the greater number had given vague and conditional replies, evidently to gain time and consult the feeling of their country neighbors.

These refusals and subterfuges were a sad damper to Mr. Heffernan's hopes. To any one less sanguine, they would have led to a total abandonment of the enterprise. He, however, was made of sterner stuff, and resolved, if the demonstration could effect no more, it could at least be used as a threat to the Government,--a threat of not less power because its terrors were involved in mystery. With all these disappointments time sped on, the important day arrived, and the great room of the Rotunda, hired specially for the occasion, was crowded by a numerous a.s.semblage, to whose proceedings no member of the public press was admitted. Notice was given that in due time a declaration, drawn up by a committee, would be published; but until then the most profound secrecy wrapped their objects and intentions.

The meeting, convened for one o'clock, separated at five; and, save the unusual concourse of carriages, and the spectacle of some liveries new to the capital, there seemed nothing to excite the public attention. No loud-tongued orator was heard from without, nor did a single cheer mark the reception of any welcome sentiment; and as the members withdrew, the sarcastic allusions of the mob intimated that they were supposed to be a new sect of "Quakers." Heffernan's carriage was the last to leave the door; and it was remarked, as he entered it, that he looked agitated and ill,--signs which few had ever remarked in him before. He drove rapidly home, where a small and select party of friends had been invited by him to dinner.

He made a hasty toilet, and entered the drawing-room a few moments after the first knock at the street-door announced the earliest guest. It was an old and intimate friend, Sir Giles St. George, a south-country baronet of old family, but small fortune, who for many years had speculated on Heffernan's interest in his behalf. He was a shrewd, coa.r.s.e man, who from eccentricity and age had obtained a species of moral "writ of ease," absolving him from all observance of the usages in common among all well-bred people,--a privilege he certainly did not seem disposed to let rust from disuse.

"Well, Con," said he, as he stood with his back to the fire, and his hands deeply thrust into his breeches-pockets,--"well, Con, your Convention has been a d.a.m.nable failure. Where the devil did you get up such a rabble of briefless barristers, ungowned attorneys, dissenting ministers, and illegitimate sons? I'd swear, out of your seven hundred, there were not five-and-twenty possessed of a fifty-pound freehold,--not five who could defy the sheriff in their own county."

Heffernan made no reply, but with arms crossed, and his head leaned forward, walked slowly up and down the room, while the other resumed,--

"As for old Killowen, who filled the chair, that was enough to d.a.m.n the whole thing. One of King James's lords, forsooth!--why, man, what country gentleman of any pretension could give precedence to a fellow like that, who neither reads, writes, nor speaks the King's English--and your great gun, Mr. Hickman O'Reilly--"

"False-hearted scoundrel!" muttered Heffernan, half aloud.

"Faith he may be, but he's the cleverest of the pack. I liked his speech well. There was good common sense in his asking for some explicit plan of proceeding,--what you meant to do, and how to do it. Eh, Con, that was to the point."

"To the point!" repeated Heffernan, scornfully; "yes, as the declaration of an informer, that he will betray his colleagues, is to the point."

"And then his motion to admit the reporters," said St. George, as with a malignant pleasure he continued to suggest matter of annoyance.

"He 's mistaken, however," said Heffernan, with a sarcastic bitterness that came from his heart. "The day for rewards is gone by. He 'll never get the baronetcy by supporting the Government in this way. It is the precarious, uncertain ally they look more after. There is consummate wisdom, Giles, in not saying one's last word. O'Reilly does not seem aware of that. Here come G.o.dfrey and Hume," said he, as he looked out of the window. "Burton has sent an apology."

"And who is our sixth?"

"O'Reilly--and here's his carriage. See how the people stare admiringly at his green liveries; they scarcely guess that the owner is meditating a change of color. Well, G.o.dfrey, in time for once. Why, Robert, you seem quite f.a.gged with your day's exertion. Ah! Mr. O'Reilly, delighted to find you punctual. Let me present you to my old friend Sir Giles St.

George. I believe, gentlemen, you need no introduction to each other.

Burton has disappointed us; so we may order dinner at once."