The Knight Of Gwynne Volume II Part 32

"Yes," said Helen, eagerly, "he would be the very person to a.s.sist us; but, poor little man! he has his own troubles, too, at this moment."

"She's a kind creature," muttered Paul; "how fond I'm growing of her!"

"It is no time for the indulgence of scruples; otherwise, Helen, I 'd not place much reliance on the gentleman's taste."

"Proud as Lucifer," thought Paul.

"His good-nature, mamma, is the quality we stand most in need of, and I have a strong trust that he is not deficient there."

"What a situation to be placed in!" sighed Lady Eleanor: "that we should turn with a shudder from seeking protection where it is our due, and yet ask counsel and a.s.sistance from a man like this!"

"I feel no repugnance whatever to accepting such a favor from Mr.

Dempsey, while I should deem it a great humiliation to be suitor to the Earl of Netherby."

"And yet he is our nearest relative living,--with vast wealth and influence, and I believe not indisposed towards us. I go too fast, perhaps," said she, scornfully; "his obligations to my own father were too great and too manifold, that I should say so."

"What a Tartar!" murmured Paul.

"If the proud Earl could forget the services my dear father rendered him, when, a younger son, without fortune or position, he had no other refuge than our house,--if he could wipe away the memory of benefits once received,--he might perhaps be better minded towards us; but obligation is so suggestive of ill-will."

"Dearest mamma," said Helen, laughing, "if your hopes depend upon his Lordship's forgetfulness of kindness, I do think we may afford to be sanguine. I am well inclined to think that he is not weighed down by the load of grat.i.tude that makes men enemies. Still," added she, more seriously, "I am very averse to seeking his aid, or even his counsel; I vote for Mr. Dempsey."

"How are we to endure the prying impertinence of his curiosity? Have you thought of that, Helen?"

Paul's cheek grew scarlet, and his very fingers' ends tingled.

"Easily enough, mamma. Nay, if our troubles were not so urgent, it would be rather amusing than otherwise; and with all his vulgarity--"

"The little vixen!" exclaimed Paul, so much off his guard that both mother and daughter started.

"Did you hear that, Helen? I surely heard some one speak."

"I almost thought so," replied Miss Darcy, taking up a candle from the table, and proceeding towards the door. Mr. Dempsey had but time to retreat behind the curtain of the bed, when she reached the spot where he had been standing. "No, all is quiet in the house," said she, opening the door into the corridor and listening. "Even our respectable guests would seem to be asleep." She waited for a few seconds, and then returned to her place on the sofa.

Mr. Dempsey had either heard enough to satisfy the immediate cravings of his curiosity, or, more probably, felt his present position too critical; for when he drew the curtain once more close over the gla.s.s door, he slipped noiselessly into the corridor, and entering the first room he could find, opened the window and sprang out.

"You shall not be disappointed in Paul Dempsey, anyhow," said he, as he b.u.t.toned up the collar of his coat, and pressed his hat more firmly on his head. "No, my Lady, he may be vulgar and inquisitive, though I confess it's the first time I ever heard of either; but he is not the man to turn his back on a good-natured action, when it lies full in front of him. What a climate, to be sure! it blows from the four quarters of the globe all at once, and the rain soaks in and deluges one's very heart's blood. Paul, Paul, you 'll have a smart twinge of rheumatism from this night's exploit."

It may be conjectured that Mr. Dempsey, like many other gifted people, had a habit of compensating for the want of society by holding little dialogues or discourses with himself,--a custom from which he derived no small gratification, for, while it lightened the weariness of a lonely way, it enabled him to say many more flattering and civil things to himself than he usually heard from an ungrateful world.

"They talk of Demerara," said he; "I back Antrim against the world for a hurricane. The rainy season here lasts all the year round; and if practice makes perfect--There, now I 'm wet through, I can't be worse.

Ah! Helen, Helen, if you knew how unfit Paul Dempsey is to play Paris!

By the way, who was the fellow that swam the h.e.l.lespont for love of a young lady? Not Laertes, no--that's not it-Leander, that's the name--Leander."

Paul muttered the name several times over, and by a train of thought which we will not attempt to follow or unravel, began humming to himself the well-known Irish ditty of--

"Teddy, ye gander, Yer like a Highlander."

He soon came to a stop in the words, but continued to sing the air, till at last he broke out in the following version of his own:--

"Paul Dempsey, ye gander, You 're like that Leander Who for somebody's daughter--for somebody's daughter Did not mind it one pin To be wet to the skin, With a dip in salt water--a dip in salt water.

"Were you wiser, 'tis plain, You 'd be now in Coleraine, A nightcap on your head--a nightcap on your head, With a jorum of rum, Made by old Mother Fum, At the side of your bed--at the side of your bed.

"For tho' love is divine, When the weather is fine, And a season of bliss--a season of bliss, 'Tis a different thing For a body to sing On a night such as this--a night such as this.

"Paul Dempsey! remember, On the ninth of December You 'll be just forty-six--you 'll be just forty-six, And the world will say That at your time o' day You 're too old for these tricks--you 're too old for these tricks.

"And tho' water may show One's love, faith, I know I 'd rather prove mine--I 'd rather prove mine With my feet on the fender; 'T is then I grow tender, O'er a b.u.mper of wine--o'er a b.u.mper of wine!

"A b.u.mper of wine!" sighed he. "On my conscience, it would be an ugly toast I 'd refuse to drink this minute, if the liquor was near.

"Ah! when warm and snog, With my legs on the rug, By a turf fire red--a turf fire red-- But how can I rhyme it?

With this horrid climate, Destroying my head--destroying my head?

"With a coat full of holes, And my shoes without soles, And my hat like a teapot--my hat like a teapot--

"Oh, murther, murther!" screamed he, aloud, as his shins came in contact with a piece of timber, and he fell full length to the ground, sorely bruised, and perfectly enveloped in snow. It was some minutes before he could rally sufficiently to get up; and although he still shouted for help, seeing a light in a window near, no one came to his a.s.sistance, leaving poor Paul to his own devices.

It was some consolation for his sufferings to discover that the object over which he had stumbled was the shaft of a jaunting-car, such a conveyance being at that moment what he most desired to meet with. The driver at last made his appearance, and informed him that he had brought Nickie and his two companions from Larne, and was now only waiting their summons to proceed to Coleraine.

Paul easily persuaded the man that he could earn a fare in the mean time, for that Nickie would probably not leave "The Corvy" till late on the following day, and that by a little exertion he could manage to drive to Coleraine and back before he was stirring. It is but fair to add that poor Mr. Dempsey supported his arguments by lavish promises of reward, to redeem which he speculated on mortgaging his silver watch, and probably his umbrella, when he reached Coleraine.

It was yet a full hour before daybreak, as Lady Eleanor, who had pa.s.sed the night in her dressing-room, was startled by a sharp tapping noise at her window; Helen lay asleep on the sofa, and too soundly locked in slumber to hear the sounds. Lady Eleanor listened, and while half fearing to disturb the young girl, wearied and exhausted as she was, she drew near to the window. The indistinct shadow of a figure was all that she could detect through the gloom, but she fancied she could hear a weak effort to p.r.o.nounce her name.

There could be little doubt of the intentions of the visitor; whoever he should prove, the frail barrier of a window could offer no resistance to any one disposed to enter by force, and, reasoning thus, Lady Eleanor unfastened the cas.e.m.e.nt, and cried, "Who is there?"

A strange series of gestures, accompanied by a sound between a sneeze and the crowing of a c.o.c.k, was all the reply; and when the question was repeated in a louder tone, a thin quivering voice muttered, "Pau-au-l De-de-dempsey, my La-dy."

"Mr. Dempsey, indeed!" exclaimed Lady Eleanor. "Oh! pray come round to the door at your left hand; it is only a few steps from where you are standing."

Short as the distance was, Mr. Dempsey's progress was of the slowest, and Lady Eleanor had already time to awaken Helen, ere the half-frozen Paul had crossed the threshold.

"He has pa.s.sed the night in the snow," cried Lady Eleanor to her daughter, as she led him towards the fire.

"No, my Lady," stammered out Paul, "only the last hour and a half; before that I was snug under old Daly's blanket."

A very significant interchange of looks between mother and daughter seemed to imply that poor Mr. Dempsey's wits were wandering.

"Call Tate; let him bring some wine here at once, Helen."

"It's all drunk; not a gla.s.s in the decanter," murmured Paul, whose thoughts recurred to the supper-table.

"Poor creature, his mind is quite astray," whispered Lady Eleanor, her compa.s.sion not the less strongly moved, because she attributed his misfortune to the exertions he had made in their behalf. By this time the group was increased by the arrival of old Tate, who, in a flannel nightcap fastened under the chin, and a very ancient dressing-gown of undyed wool, presented a lively contrast to the shivering condition of Mr. Dempsey.

"It's only Mr. Dempsey!" said Lady Eleanor, sharply, as the old butler stood back, crossing himself and staring with sleepy terror at the white figure.

"May I never! But so it is," exclaimed Tate, in return to an attempt at a bow on Dempsey's part, which he accomplished with a brackling noise like creaking gla.s.s.