The O'Donoghue Part 22

"The beast is snug in the stable--that's where he is, eating a peck of oats--last year's corn--divil a less."

"And the gig?"

"Oh, the gig, is it? Musha, we have the gig too," responded Kerry, but with a reluctance that could not escape the shrewd questioner.

"Where is it, then?" said Roach, impatiently.

"Where would it be, but in the yard?--we're going to wash it."

The Doctor did not wait for the conclusion of this reply, but hastening from the room, pa.s.sed down the few stairs that led towards the old court-yard, followed by Sir Archy and Kerry, the one, eager to witness the termination of the scene--the other, muttering in a very different spirit--"Oh, but it's now we'll have the divil to pay!"

As soon as Roach arrived at the court-yard, he turned his eyes on every side, to seek his conveyance; but although there were old harrows, broken ploughs, and disabled wheel-barrows in numbers, nothing was there, that bore any resemblance to what he sought.

"Where is it?" said he, turning to Kerry, with a look of exasperation that defied all attempt to a.s.suage by mere "blarney"--"where is it?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: 151]

"Here it is, then," said O'Leary, with the tone of one, whose courage was nerved by utter despair, while at the same time, he drew forth two wheels and an axle, the sole surviving members of the late vehicle, As he displayed the wreck before them, the ludicrous--always too strong for an Irish peasant, no matter how much it may be a.s.sociated with his own personal danger--overcame his more discreet instincts, and he broke forth into a broad grin, while he cried--"'There's the inside of her, now!' as Darby Gossoon said, when he tuk his watch in pieces, 'and begorra, we'll see how she's made, any way!'"

This true history must not recount the expressions in which Roach permitted himself to indulge; it is enough to say, that his pa.s.sion took the most violent form of invective, against the house, the glen, the family, and their retainers, to an extreme generation, while he stamped and gesticulated like one insane.

"Ye'll hae sma' s.p.a.ce for yer luggage in you," said M'Nab, with one of his driest laughs, while he turned back and re-entered the house.

"Where's my pony?--where's my pony?" shouted out the Doctor, determined to face all his calamities at once.

"Oh, faix, he's nothing the worse," said Kerry, as he unlocked the door of the stable, and pointed with all the pride of veracity to a beast in the stall before them. "There, he is, jumping like a kid, out of his skin wid' fun this morning."

Now, although the first part of Kerry's simile was a.s.suredly incorrect, as no kid, of which we have any record, ever bore the least resemblance to the animal in question, as to the fact of being "out of his skin"

there could not be a second opinion, the beast being almost entirely flayed from his shoulders to his haunches, his eyes being represented by two globular ma.s.ses, about the size of billiard-b.a.l.l.s, and his tail bearing some affinity to an overgrown bamboo, as it hung down, jointed and knotted, but totally dest.i.tute of hair.

"The thief of the world," said Kerry, as he patted him playfully; "he stripped a trifle of hair off him with kicking; but a little gunpowder and b.u.t.ter will bring it on again, in a day or two." "Liar that thou art, Kerry--it would take a cask of one, and a firkin of the other to make up the necessary ointment!"

There are some evils which no antic.i.p.ation can paint equal to their severity, and these, in compensation perhaps, are borne for the most part, without the same violent exuberance of sorrow lesser misfortunes elicit. So it was--Roach spoke not a word: one menace of his clenched hand towards Kerry, was the only token he gave of his malice, and he left the stable.

"I've a note here for Doctor Roach," said a servant, in Sir Marmaduke's livery, to Kerry, as he proceeded to close and lock the stable-door.

"I'm the person," said the Doctor, taking the billet and breaking the seal. "Have you the carriage here now?" asked he, when he had finished reading.

"Yes, sir, it's on the road. Sir Marmaduke desired me not to drive up, for fear of disturbing the sick gentleman."

"I'm ready, then," said the Doctor; "and never casting a look backward, nor vouchsafing another word, he pa.s.sed out of the gate, and descended towards the high road.

"I'll take good care of the baste till I see you, sir," shouted Kerry after him; and then, as the distance widened, he added, "and may I never see your ould yallow wig agin, I pray this day. Divil take me, but I hope you've some of the slugs in ye, after all;" and with these pious wishes, expressed fervently, Kerry returned to the house, his heart considerably lightened by the Doctor's departure.

Scarcely was he seated beside the kitchen fire--the asylum he regarded as his own--when, all fears for his misconduct and its consequences past, he began speculating in a very Irish fashion, on the reasons of the Doctor's sudden departure.

"He's off now to 'the Lodge'--devil fear him--faix if he gets in there, they'll not get him out so asy--they'll have a pain for every day of the week before he leaves them. Well, well, thanks be to G.o.d, he's out of this."

"Is he gone, Kerry?" said Mrs. Branagan. "Did he leave a 'cure' for Master Herbert before he went?"

"Sorra bit," cried Kerry, as if a sudden thought struck him, "that's what he didn't!" and without hesitating another moment, he sprung from his chair, and mounted the stairs towards the parlour, where now the O'Donoghue, Mark, and Sir Archy were a.s.sembled at breakfast.

"He's away, sir, he's off again," said Kerry, as though the nature of his tidings did not demand any more ceremonious preliminary.

"Who's away? Who's gone?" cried they all in breath.

"The Doctor, sir, Doctor Roach. There was a chap in a sky-blue livery came up with a bit of a letter for him to go down there, and when he read it, he just turned about, this way," here Kerry performed a not over graceful pirouette, "and without saying by yer leave, he walks down the road and gets into the coach. 'Won't you see Master Herbert before you go, sir,' says I; 'sure you're not leaving him that way?' but bad luck to one word he'd say, but went away wid a grin on him."

"What!" cried Mark, as his face crimsoned with pa.s.sion. "Is this true?--are you sure of what you're saying?"

"I'll take the book an it," said Kerry, solemnly.

"Well, Archy," said the O'Donoghue, addressing his brother-in-law. "You are a good judge of these matters. Is this conduct on the part of our neighbour suitable or becoming? Was it exactly right and proper to send here for one, whose services we had taken the trouble to seek, and might much have needed besides? Should we not have been consulted, think you?"

"There's not a poor farmer in the glen would not resent it!" cried Mark, pa.s.sionately.

"Bide a wee, bide a wee," said Sir Archy, cautiously, "we hae na heard a' the tale yet. Roach may perhaps explain."

"He had better not come here, to do so," interrupted Mark, as he strode the room in pa.s.sion; "he has a taste for hasty departures, and, by G--, I'll help him to one; for out of that window he goes, as sure as my name is Mark."

"'Tis the way to serve him, divil a doubt," chimed in Kerry, who was not sorry to think how agreeably he might thus be relieved from any legal difficulties.

"I am no seeking to excuse the man," said Sir Archy, temperately.

"It's weel kenned we hae na muckle love for ane anither; but fair play is bonnie play."

"I never heard a mean action yet, but there was a Scotch adage to warrant it," muttered Mark, in a whisper inaudible by the rest.

"Its no' improbable but that Sir Marmaduke Travers did ask if the Doctor could be spared, and it's no' impossible, either, that Roach took the answering the question in his ain hands."

"I don't think so," broke in Mark; "the whole thing bears a different aspect. It smacks of English courtesy to an Irish kern."

"By Jove, Mark is right," said the O'Donoghue, whose prejudices, strengthened by poverty, too readily chimed in with any suspicion of intended insult.

"They were not long learning the game," said Mark, bitterly; "they are, if I remember aright, scarce two months in the country, and, see, they treat us as 'mere Irish' already.

"Ye'r ower hasty, Mark. I hae na muckle respect for Roach, nor wad I vouch for his good breeding; but a gentleman, as this Sir Marmaduke's note bespeaks him----."

"What note? I never heard of it."

"Oh! it was a polite kind of message, Mark, to say he would be obliged if I permitted him to pay his respects here. I forget to tell you of it."

"Does the enemy desire a peep at the fortress, that he may calculate how long we can hold out?" said the youth, sternly.

"Begorra, with the boys from Ballyvourney and Inchigeela, we'll howld the place agin the English army," said Kerry, mistaking the figurative meaning of the speech; and he rubbed his hands with delight at the bare prospect of such a consummation.

Sir Archy turned an angry look towards him, and motioned with his hand for him to leave the room. Kerry closed the door after him, and for some minutes the silence was unbroken.

"What does it matter after all?" said the O'Donoghue, with a sigh. "It is a mere folly to care for these things, now. When the garment is worn and threadbare, one need scarce fret that the lace is a little tarnished."