The Martins Of Cro' Martin Volume I Part 45

"After the kind of life you 've led in England, I wonder how you endure this country at all," said Maurice, with real sincerity of voice and manner.

"I like it," said Jack; "the whole thing is new to me, and vastly amusing. I don't mean to say I 'd willingly pa.s.s a lifetime in this fashion, but for a few weeks--"

"Just so; to give you a better relish for the real thing when you go back again," said Maurice.

"What a neat stepper that leader is!" said Jack, to change the topic from himself and his own affairs. "She's a well-bred one; that's clear."

"Nearly full-bred; the least bit of c.o.c.ktail in the world. She's out of Crescent, that ran a very good third for the Oaks."

"A strong horse, and a very honest one," said Jack.

"Well, I bought that little mare from young Mr. Martin--the Captain--when he was ordered out to India; I put her in training, and ran her at the Curragh in three weeks, and won, too, the St. Lawrence Handicap."

"Is Captain Martin a sporting character?" asked Jack, carelessly.

"He is and he is not," said Scanlan, half querulously. "He likes a safe thing,--do you understand?" and he gave a most significant wink as he spoke.

"Oh, then he's close about money matters?" said Ma.s.singbred.

"Not exactly that. He 's wasteful and spendthrift, but he'd go to the world's end to do a knowing thing; you 've seen men of that kind?"

"Scores of them," replied Jack; "and they were always the easiest fellows to be duped!"

"Exactly my own experience," said Scanlan, delighted to find his opinions confirmed in such a quarter. "Now, young Martin would give five hundred pounds for a horse to win a fifty pound cup. Don't you know what I mean?"

"Perfectly," said Ma.s.singbred, with an approving smile.

"n.o.body knows the sums he has drawn since he went away," exclaimed Scanlan, who was momentarily growing more and more confidential.

"There 's a deal of high play in India; perhaps he gambles," said Jack, carelessly.

A significant wink and nod gave the answer.

"Well, well," added he, after a pause, "he 'll not mend matters by coming back again."

"And is he about to visit England?" asked Ma.s.singbred, in the same easy tone.

"So they say," replied Scanlan, with an effort at the easy indifference of the other.

"On leave, perhaps?" said Jack, indolently.

"That 's more than I know," replied he, and relapsed into a thoughtful silence, during which Ma.s.singbred continued to scan his features with a sly, downcast glance peculiar to himself.

"You've never been in Leicestershire, Mr. Scanlan?" said he, when he had fully satisfied himself with his examination. "Well, then, come over there in the spring--say about March next--and pay me a visit. I 've got a sort of hunting-box there, with a neat stable, and by that time I hope to raise funds for a couple of nags."

"Trust _me_ for the horseflesh, sir. I know where to mount you this very minute. You 're not much above eleven stone?"

"Eleven-eight,--at least, so I used to be. Is it a bargain? Will you come?"

"There's my hand on't," said the attorney, overjoyed at the prospect.

"Mackworth, and Lord Harry Coverdale, and Sir Went-worth Danby, and a few more, are all my neighbors. Capital fellows, whom you 'll be delighted with. Just the sort of men to suit you,--up to everything that means sport."

"Exactly what I like!" cried Maurice, in ecstasy.

"We'll arrange it all this evening, then," said Jack. "Just drop into my room after they 're all gone to bed, and we'll have a talk over it. You don't know my father, do you?"

"I haven't that honor," said Scanlan, with an accent of real deference in his voice.

"Another kind of person from these I've mentioned," said Jack, slowly.

"So I should suppose, sir," said Scanlan, a tone of respect involuntarily attaching itself to him as he addressed the son of a Secretary of State.

"Not that he doesn't like field sports, and all the enjoyments of a country life. But, you know, he's an old official--a Downing Street veteran--who really relishes public business, just as you and I would a coursing-match, or a heavy pool at Crocky's."

Scanlan nodded as if in perfect a.s.sent.

"While I say this, it's only fair to add that he has most excellent qualities, and is a stanch friend when he takes any one up. I suspect you 'd like him. I know he 'd like your--"

"I 'm greatly flattered. I don't deserve--"

"You see," said Jack, not heeding the interruption, and a.s.suming the low accents of a confidential communication--"You see, he and I have not been on the very best of terms for some time back; I 've done some silly things--spent a little more money than he liked--and, what was still worse in his eyes, refused a first-rate Government appointment--a really good thing, and such as one does n't meet with every day--and now, the only road back to his favor will be for me to come out strongly in some shape, either as a college prizeman or in public life. I despise the former. It's all very well for fellows like Nelligan--it's their natural 'beat,'--but for a man like _me_, one who has seen the world,--the real world,--these are nothing more than schoolboy distinctions,--the silver medal he brings home of a Sat.u.r.day, and makes him the wonder of his sisters for twenty-four hours. I'll have to strike out a line of my own!"

"No fear of you, sir,--devil a bit!" said Maurice, with a sententious shake of the head. "Here we are now at Cro' Martin, and then there's the first dinner-bell ringing."

"We shall be late, perhaps," said Jack.

"You'll be in good time. As for me, I haven't been asked to dinner, so that when I drop you I 'll go down to the village."

"Well, then, I 'll walk over and see you in the evening," said Ma.s.singbred. "It seems to me--I don't know whether you are of the same opinion, though--but it seems strongly to me that you and I ought to be allies."

"If I thought I was worthy--"

"Come, come, Scanlan, no modesty, old boy. You know you 're a devilish clever fellow, and you no more intend to pa.s.s your life cruising after petty-session practice in Galway, than I do to settle down here as under-gardener."

"They 're all looking at us, sir, from the drawing-room window," said Scanlan, in a cautious voice; "don't let us appear too confidential."

And at the same instant he extended his whip as though to point attention to some distant object, and seem as if he were describing the scenery.

"Shrewd dog it is," muttered Ma.s.singbred in soliloquy, but taking good care to be overheard. "I 'll beat up your quarters, Scanlan, in a couple of hours or so," said Ma.s.singbred, as he descended from the lofty "drag."

Somewhat, but not very much, later than the time appointed, Jack Ma.s.singbred appeared in the small chamber of the "Crueskeen,"--the humble hostel on the roadside adjoining the demesne of Cro' Martin.

Maurice Scanlan had made every preparation which the fluid resources of the house admitted to receive his guest, but they were not destined to be put in requisition.

"I have only come lest you should accuse me of forgetting you, Scanlan,"

said Ma.s.singbred, as he stood in the doorway without removing his hat.

"I 'm off to Oughter-ard, having made my adieux at Cro' Martin."

"Left Cro' Martin, and for good!" exclaimed Scanlan.