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Ma.s.singbred saw the effect he was producing, and saw it with pleasure.
His calculation was this: "Had I started 'at speed' with these fellows, they would have blown me at once. All my efforts to a.s.similate myself to their tastes, to join in their habits and adopt their notions, would have been detected in a trice. They must be brought to believe that they have made a convert of me themselves; the wider the s.p.a.ce between us at first, the greater will be their merit in making me forget it in the end."
As the whiskey-punch made its appearance, and the bottle of port was pa.s.sed up beside the stranger, Ma.s.singbred thought the time was come when he might change his tactics, and open the campaign in force. "No,"
said he, as the host pushed the wine towards him, "I 've come over here to try and learn something about Ireland, and I must give myself every advantage of judging from a native point of view. This excellent old port may strengthen a man to stand by many an old prejudice, but my object is to lay in a new stock of ideas, and I 'd rather try a new regimen."
"That 's your bottle, then, sir. Try that," said Brierley, pushing towards him a small square decanter of a faint greenish fluid.
"That is 'poteen,' Mr. Ma.s.singbred," said the host. "It's the small still that never paid the King a farthing."
"I like it all the better, for that reason," said Jack. "There's something independent in the very thought of a liquor that never submitted to the indignity of a gauger."
"That's not a very English sentiment, sir," said the priest, slyly.
"I don't know whether it be or not," rejoined Ma.s.singbred; "but I can neither perceive common-sense or justice in a law that will not allow a man to do what he likes with his own. Why, if Parliament declared to-morrow you should n't boil your potatoes in Ireland, but eat them fried--or that you should n't make bread of your corn, but eat it with milk as the Neapolitans do--"
"I wish we could do the same here, with all my heart," said the priest.
"It's little wheat or even barley-meal one of our poor people ever sees."
"A wet potato and water is their diet," said old Hayes, as he sipped his punch.
"I can believe it well," said Ma.s.singbred, with great semblance of feeling. "I witnessed dreadful poverty and dest.i.tution as I came along, and I couldn't help asking myself: What are the gentry about in this country? Do they or do they not see these things? If they do, are they indifferent to them?"
"They are indifferent to them; or even worse, they rejoice in them,"
broke in a deep-voiced, energetic-looking man, who sat at the foot of the table, and had, although silent, taken a deep interest in the conversation. "They see, sir, in the dest.i.tution of Ireland another rivet in the chains of her bondage. As my 'august leader' remarked, it's the rust on the fetters, though--and if it proclaims the length of the captivity, it suggests the hope of freedom."
"Mr. Magennis is the dearest friend and trusty agent of Mr. O'Connell,"
said Nelligan, in a whisper to Ma.s.singbred.
"Here's his health, whoever said that!" cried Jack, enthusiastically, and as if not hearing the host's observation.
"That's a toast; we'll all drink--and standing, too," exclaimed Magennis. "'Daniel O'Connell, gentlemen, hip, hip, hurra! '" And the room rang again with the hearty acclamations of the company.
"By Jove! there was something very fine--it was chivalrous--in the way he brought the Catholic question to issue at last. The bold expedient of testing the event by an individual experience was as clever as it was daring," exclaimed Ma.s.singbred.
"You were in favor of the measure then, sir?" said Father Neal, with a bland smile that might mean satisfaction or suspicion.
"I was always an Emanc.i.p.ationist; but I am little satisfied with the terms on which the bill has been pa.s.sed. I 'd have had no restrictions,--no reservations. It should, according to me, have been unconditional or nothing."
"You've heard the old proverb about half a loaf, sir?" said Hayes, with a dry laugh.
"And a poor adage it is, in its ordinary acceptation," said Jack, quickly. "It 's the prompting spirit to many a shabby compromise! What disabilities should apply to any of us here, in regard to any post or position in our country's service, by reason of opinions which are between ourselves and our own hearts--I say any of us, because some here--one I perceive is"--and he bowed to Father Rafferty--"a Catholic; and I for myself avow that, if for no other reason than this proscription, I'd be on this side."
"You're not in Parliament, sir, are you?" asked old Peter, with a seriousness that sorely tested the gravity of those at either side of him.
"No," said Jack, frankly. "My father and I don't agree on these subjects; and, consequently, though there is a seat in my family, I have not the honor to occupy it."
"Are you any relation to Colonel Moore Ma.s.singbred, sir?" asked Magennis. "His son, sir."
The questioner bowed, and a brief silence ensued; short as it was, it enabled Jack to decide upon his next move, and take it.
"Gentlemen," said he, "I 'm fully aware that my name is not a favorite in Ireland; and shall I own to you, till I came to this country myself, I half believed that this same humble opinion of us was to our credit!
I used to hear such narratives of Irish barbarism, Irish brutality, priestcraft, superst.i.tion, and Heaven knows what besides, that I fully persuaded myself that our small repute was very nigh to an eulogium on us. Well, I came over to Trinity College strongly impressed with the notion that, because I had gained successes at Oxford, here I should be triumphant. It is in no boastfulness I say that I had acquitted myself well at home; I had attained to rather a reputation. Well, as I said, I came over to Trinity and pitted myself against the best man going, and a very pretty beating he gave me. Yes, gentlemen, he beat me in everything, even in those which we Oxford men fancy our specialties. I soon learned that I had not the shadow of a pretension to stand against him, and I learned, also, that it was no disgrace to me to be thus vanquished, since he was not alone the foremost man of his time, but the best scholar the University had seen for a full century; and shall I add, as unpretending and as modest in the midst of all his triumphs as he was unapproachable by all compet.i.tors. And now; gentlemen, I will ask your leave to drink his health; doubtless it has been many a time toasted before over the same table, but none ever more ardently followed the sentiment with his whole heart than do I in proposing to you, 'Three cheers for Joe Nelligan.'"
The rambling opening of this brief speech was quite forgotten in the enthusiasm that greeted its close. In every respect it was a happy diversion. It relieved the company from a discussion that promised but gloomily. It brought back their minds to a pleasant theme, and enabled them, so to say, to pay off in grateful cheers to their host his own hospitable reception of them. As for Nelligan himself, he was sincerely, deeply affected; and though he twice essayed to speak, he could get no further than "My son Joe"--"my boy"--and sat down murmuring--"Thank you--G.o.d bless you for it"--and covered his face with his hands.
Awkward as was the moment, it was relieved by the company filling their gla.s.ses and nodding in most friendly fashion to Ma.s.singbred as they drank his health; while a low murmur of approbation went round the table, of which he was most unmistakably the object.
"Are you fond of shooting, sir?" asked Brierley. "Well, then, I hope you'll not leave the country without giving me a day or two up at my little place in the mountains: There's some snipe left; and, upon my conscience, I'll be proud to see you at Kilmaccud."
"And there's worse quarters, too!" broke in Magennis. "My 'august leader' spent a day and a half there."
"I'll drive you over there myself," whispered Father Neal, "if you'll finish the week at the 'Rookery,'--that's what they call the priest's house."
Ma.s.singbred accepted everything, and shook hands across the table in ratification of half a dozen engagements.
"You don't think I'll let you cheat me out of my guest so easily," said Nelligan. "No, gentlemen. This must be Mr. Ma.s.singbred's head-quarters as long as he stays here, for, faith, I 'd not give him up to Mr. Martin himself."
"And who may he be?" asked Jack.
"Martin of Cro' Martin."
"The owner of half the county."
"Of the town you 're in, this minute."
"The richest proprietor in the West."
Such were the pattering replies that poured in upon him, while words of intense astonishment at his ignorance were exchanged on all sides.
"I believe I have given you a fair guarantee for my ignorance, gentlemen," said Jack, "in confessing that I never so much as heard of Martin of Cro' Martin. Does he reside on his estate here?"
"Yes, sir," said Nelligan, "he lives at Cro' Martin Castle, about sixteen miles from this; and certainly, while in this part of the country, you ought to pay the place a visit. I have never been there myself, but I hear the most astonishing accounts of the splendor of the furniture and the magnificence of the whole establishment."
"There's pictures there," said the priest, "that cost the grandfather of the present man a quarter of a million sterling."
"Why, the three statues in the hall, they say, are worth ten thousand pounds," said Brierley.
"Be gorra! when a man would give four hundred for a bull, there 's no saying what he 'd stop at," broke in Peter Hayes. "I went up to see him myself, and indeed he's a beauty, there 's no denying it,--but four hundred pound! Think of four hundred pound!"
"The stable is the best thing in the place," said Father Neal; "they 're mighty nice cattle, there, for every kind of work."
"Thanks to his niece for that," cried Magennis; "she knows a horse with any man in the West of Ireland."
"And can break him, too," chimed in Brierley; "I don't care what his temper is. Let Miss Mary get her hand on him, and he 'll turn out well."
"I 'm driving an old chestnut mare this minute that she trained," said the priest; "and though she has n't a good leg amongst the four, and is touched in the wind, she 's as neat a stepper, and as easy in the mouth as a five-year-old."
"She 's a fine young woman!" said old Hayes, drinking off his gla.s.s as though toasting her to himself, "and not like any Martin ever I seen before."