The Martins Of Cro' Martin Volume I Part 13

"Well, there's shooting; but to be sure you know nothing about that, nor fishing, either; and I suppose farming, if you did understand it, would n't be genteel. Indeed, I see little that is n't dangerous, except the dearness of everything. I remark that's a subject n.o.body ever tires of, and all can take their share in."

"And I conclude it to be fact, mother?"

"A very melancholy fact, my dear; and so I said to Betty Gargan, yesterday. 'It's well for _you_,' said I, 'and the likes of you, that use nothing but potatoes; but think of us, that have to pay sixpence a pound for mutton, six-and-a-half for the prime pieces, and veal not to be had under eightpence.' They talk of the poor, indeed! but sure they never suffer from a rise in butcher's meat, and care nothing at all what tea costs. I a.s.sure you I made the tears come into her eyes, with the way I described our hardships."

"So that this will be a safe subject for me, mother?"

"Perfectly safe, my dear, and no ways mean, either; for I always remarked that the higher people are, the stingier they are, and the more pleasure they take in any little sharp trick that saves them sixpence.

And when that 's exhausted, just bring in the Rams."

"The Rams?"

"I mean my aunt Ram, and my relations in Wexford. I 'm sure, with a little address, you 'll be able to show how I came to be married beneath me, and all the misery it cost me."

"Well, mother, I believe I have now ample material," said Joe, rising, with a lively dread of an opening which he knew well boded a lengthy exposition; "and to my own want of skill must it be ascribed if I do not employ it profitably." And with this he hurried to his room to prepare for the great event.

The "Gentlemen of England" do not deem it a very formidable circ.u.mstance to repair towards seven, or half-past, to a dinner-party, even of the dullest and most rigid kind. There is a sombre "routine" in these cases, so recognized that each goes tolerably well prepared for the species of entertainment before him. There is nothing very exhilarating in the prospect, and as little to depress. It is a leaf torn out of one of the tamest chapters in life's diary, where it is just as rare to record a new dish as a new idea, and where the company and the cookery are both foreknown.

No one goes with any exaggerated expectations of enjoyment; but as little does he antic.i.p.ate anything to discompose or displease him.

The whole thing is very quiet and well-bred; rather dull, but not unpleasant. Now, Joseph Nelligan had not graduated as a "diner-out;" he was about as ignorant of these solemn festivals as any man well could be. He was not, therefore, without a certain sense of anxiety as to the conversational requisites for such occasions. Would the company rise to themes and places and people of which he had never as much as heard?

or would they treat of ordinary events, and if so, on what terms? If politics came to be discussed, would Mr. Martin expect him to hear in silence opinions from which he dissented? Dare he speak his sentiments, at the cost of directing attention to himself?--a course he would fain have avoided. These, and innumerable other doubts, occupied him as he was dressing, and made him more than once regret that he had determined to accept this invitation; and when the hour at last came for him to set out, he felt a sense of shrinking terror of what was before him greater than he had ever known as he mounted the dreaded steps of the College Examination Hall.

He might, it is true, have bethought him of the fact that where Simmy Crow and Maurice Scanlan were guests, he too might pa.s.s muster without reproach; but he did not remember this, or, at least, it failed to impress him sufficiently. Nor was his dread without a certain dash of vanity, as he thought of the contrast between the humble place he was perhaps about to occupy at a great man's table, and the proud one he had achieved in the ranks of scholarship and science. Thus musing, he sauntered slowly along till he found himself in front of the little garden of the Osprey's Nest. He looked at his watch,--it was exactly seven; so he pulled the bell, and entered.

CHAPTER IX. THE MARTIN ARMS

In the small and not over-neat parlor of the Martin Arms at Oughterard, a young man sat at his breakfast, at times casting his eyes over the columns of the "Vindicator," and anon strolling to the window to watch the gathering of the country people at the weekly market. The scene was one of that mingled bustle and languor so characteristically Irish.

Cart-loads of turf, vegetables, fruit, or turkeys blocked up the narrow pa.s.sage between booths of fancy wares, gilt jewelry, crockery, and cutlery; the vendors all eagerly vociferating commendations of their stores, in chorus with still more clamorous beggars, or the discordant notes of vagrant minstrelsy. Some animal monstrosity, announced by a cracked-voiced herald and two clarionets, added to a din to which loud laughter contributed its share of uproar.

The a.s.semblage was entirely formed of the country people, many of whom made the pretext of having a pig or a lamb to sell the reason of their coming; but, in reality, led thither by the native love of a gathering,--that fondness to be where their neighbors were,--without any definite aim or object. There was, then, in strong contrast to the anxious solicitation of all who had aught to sell, the dreary, languid, almost apathetic look of the mere lounger, come to while away his weary hour and kill time just like any very bored fine gentleman who airs his listlessness along St James's Street, or lazily canters his _ennui_ down Rotten Row.

Jack Ma.s.singbred--for he was the traveller whose straw hat and knapsack stood upon a table near--was amused at a scene so full of its native characteristics. The physiognomy, the dress, the bearing of the people, their greetings as they met, their conduct of a bargain, all bespoke a nation widely differing from the sister country, and set him a-dreaming as to how it was that equality of laws might very possibly establish anything but equality of condition amongst people so dissimilar.

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While thus musing, his eye chanced to rest upon the half-effaced inscription over a shop door in front, and where the name of Daniel Nelligan figured as "licensed for all kinds of groceries and spirits."

"Nelligan," repeated he to himself, "I shall certainly quiz my friend Joe, when we meet, about his namesake in Oughterard. How good it would be to pick up some details of our friend opposite to torment him with!

What rare fun to affect to have discovered a near relative in this man of hides, glue, sugar, and Jamaica rum! Eh, gad, I'll try it." And with this resolve he crossed the street at once, and soon found himself in the compact crowd which thronged the doorway of this popular shop.

It was, indeed, a busy scene, since many who were there came as much sellers as buyers, giving all the complexity of barter to their several transactions. Here was a staid country-woman exchanging her spunyarn, or her "cloth," as it is called, for various commodities in tea, candles, and such like; here a farmer, with a sample of seed-oats in his pocket-handkerchief, of which he wanted the value in certain farm utensils; here was another, with a stout roll of home-made frieze to dispose of; some were even fain to offer a goose or a hen as the medium for a little tobacco, or some equally tempting luxury of cottier life.

But there was another cla.s.s of customers, who, brushing their way through the throng, made for a small, dingy-looking chamber behind the shop, in which Mr. Nelligan performed the functions of banker and money-lender, discounting small bills, advancing loans, and transacting all the various duties of a petty capitalist,--means by which, it was alleged, he had already ama.s.sed a very ample fortune.

An announcement in writing on the gla.s.s door of this sanctum informed Ma.s.singbred that "bank-notes" were exchanged, and "small loans advanced on good security," suggesting to him at once the means of opening an acquaintance with the interior. Without any very definite purpose, however, he now found himself one of a very closely packed crowd within the chamber. At a small desk, around which ran a railing of about a foot in height, serving, as it were, to "filter the stream" of solicitation that poured in upon him, sat a dark-eyed, bilious-looking man of about fifty; a black wig, cut in two deep arches over the temples, showed a strongly formed, ma.s.sive head, very favorably in contrast to the features beneath it, which were only indicative of intense shrewdness and cunning. The eyes, in particular, were restless and furtive-looking, distrust and suspicion giving their entire expression,--qualities, it was to be owned, in very active employment in the intercourse of his daily life.

The anxious looks around him--careworn, eager, tremulous with anxiety as they were--seemed the very opposite to his own, full of the security that a strong purse bestows, and stern in the conscious strength of his affluence.

"It won't do, Hagan," said he, with a half-smile, as he pushed back through the grating a very dirty, discolored piece of paper. "You 'll be off to America before it comes due. I would n't take the Lord-Lieutenant's note at six months, as times go."

"See, now, Mr. Nelligan," replied the other, pressing his face close to the cage, and talking with intense eagerness. "May I never see Christmas, but I 'll pay it 'T was marryin' the daughter left me low in cash; but with the blessing of G.o.d and your help--"

"I hope you 're more certain of the blessing than the help. What's this with the string round it?" continued Nelligan, addressing another applicant.

"'T is a roll of notes I wanted to ax your honor about. Molly never 'let on' she had them till Friday last; and now that James is going away, and wants a trifle to fit him out--"

"Why, they're French's Bank, man, that broke years ago,--they 're not worth a farthing!"

"Arrah, don't say so, and G.o.d reward you," cried the poor fellow, while his eyes filled up and his lip trembled convulsively; "don't take the hope out of my heart all at onst. Look at them again, your honor, and maybe you 'll think different."

"If I did, I 'd be as great a fool as yourself, Patsy. The bank is closed, and the banker dead this many a day; and I would n't give you sixpence for sixty thousand of them. Take him out in the fresh air,--give him a mouthful of water," added he, hastily, as the wretched countryman staggered back, sick, and almost fainting with the sad tidings.

"Mrs. Mooney," said he, addressing a pale, mild-featured woman in a widow's cap and black gown, "you can't expect to hear from Dublin for a week or ten days to come. It takes some time to administer; but if you are in want of a few pounds--"

"No, sir, thank you," said she, in a low voice; "but as I can't go back to the place again,--as I 'll never be able to live there now--"

"Don't be in a hurry, Mrs. Mooney, do nothing rash. None of us know what we can do till we 're tried. There's Miles Dogherty never thought he 'd be paying me that eight pound fifteen he owes me, and see now if he is n't come with it to-day."

"Faix, and I am not," st.u.r.dily responded a very powerfully built man in the comfortable dress of a substantial farmer. "I don't owe it, and I 'll never pay it; and what's more, if you get a decree against me to-morrow, I'd sell every stick and stone in the place and go to 'Quay bec'."

"Indeed you would n't, Miles, not a bit more than I'd go and take the law of an old friend and neighbor."

"Faix, I never thought you would," said the stout man, wiping his forehead, and appearing as if he had forgotten his wrath.

"And now, Miles, what about that water-course?" said Nelligan, good-humoredly; "are you content to leave it to any two fair men--"

As he got thus far, his eye for the first time fell upon Ma.s.singbred, who, with folded arms, was leaning against a wall, an attentive spectator of the whole scene.

"That is a stranger yonder! what can he want here?" said Nelligan, who watched the attentive look of Ma.s.singbred's face with considerable distrust. He whispered a few words into the ear of a man beside him, who, making his way through the crowd, addressed the young man with--

"It's the master, sir, wants to know if he could do anything for your honor?"

"For _me?_ oh, you spoke to _me?_" said Ma.s.singbred, suddenly recalled to himself. "Yes, to be sure; I wanted to know--that is, I was thinking--" And he stopped to try and remember by what device he had purposed making Mr. Nelligan's acquaintance.

While he thus stood doubting and confused, his eyes suddenly met the black, searching, deep-set orbs that peered at him behind the grating; and without knowing how or why, he slowly approached him.

"In what way can I be of any use to you, sir?" said Nelligan, in a tone which very palpably demanded the reason of his presence there.

Jack Ma.s.singbred was eminently "cool,"--that is, he was possessed of that peculiar a.s.surance which rarely suffers itself to be ruffled by a difficulty. In the intercourse of society, and with men of the world, he could have submitted to any test unabashed; and yet now, in presence of this shrewd-looking and very commonplace personage, he, somehow, felt marvellously ill at ease, and from the simple reason that the man before whom he stood was not of his "world," but one of a set of whose habits and thoughts and ways he was in utter ignorance.

Nelligan's question was a second time addressed to him, and in the same words, before he thought of framing a reply to it. For a second or two it occurred to him to say that he had strolled in, half inadvertently, and apologizing for the intrusion, to withdraw; but his pride was offended at the notion of defeat this conduct implied, and with an a.s.sumption of that conventional impudence far more natural to him, he said,--

"It was your name, sir, attracted me--the name 'Nelligan' which I read over your door--being that of a very dear and valued friend of mine, suggested to me to inquire whether you might not be relatives."

The cool indifference which accompanied these words, uttered as they were in a certain languid drawl, were very far from predisposing Nelligan in favor of the speaker; while the pretence of attaching any singularity to a name so common as his own, struck him at once as indicative of covert impertinence.

"Nelligan is not a very remarkable name down here, sir," dryly responded he.