Volume I Part 22 (1/2)
”Well, I have the village doctor,” croaked out M'Cor-mick, ”and there's Barrington--old Peter--up at the 'Fisherman's Home.' I have _them_ by way of society. I might have better, and I might have worse.”
”They told me at Cobham that there was no getting you to 'go out;' that, like a regular old soldier, you liked your own chimney-corner, and could not be tempted away from it.”
”They didn't try very hard, anyhow,” said he, harshly. ”I'll be nineteen years here if I live till November, and I think I got two invitations, and one of them to a 'dancing tea,' whatever that is; so that you may observe they did n't push the temptation as far as St. Anthony's!”
Stapylton joined in the laugh with which M'Cormick welcomed his own drollery.
”Your doctor,” resumed he, ”is, I presume, the father of the pretty girl who rides so cleverly?”
”So they tell me. I never saw her mounted but once, and she smashed a melon-frame for me, and not so much as 'I ask your pardon!' afterwards.”
”And Barrington,” resumed Stapylton, ”is the ruined gentleman I have heard of, who has turned innkeeper. An extravagant son, I believe, finished him?”
”His own taste for law cost him just as much,” muttered M'Cormick. ”He had a trunk full of old t.i.tle-deeds and bonds and settlements, and he was always poring over them, discovering, by the way, flaws in this and omissions in that, and then he 'd draw up a case for counsel, and get consultations on it, and before you could turn round, there he was, trying to break a will or get out of a covenant, with a special jury and the strongest Bar in Ireland. That's what ruined him.”
”I gather from what you tell me that he is a bold, determined, and perhaps a vindictive man. Am I right?”
”You are not; he's an easy-tempered fellow, and careless, like every one of his name and race. If you said he hadn't a wise head on his shoulders, you 'd be nearer the mark. Look what he 's going to do now!”
cried he, warming with his theme: ”he 's going to give up the inn--”
”Give it up! And why?”
”Ay, that's the question would puzzle him to answer; but it's the haughty old sister persuades him that he ought to take this black girl--George Barrington's daughter--home to live with him, and that a shebeen is n't the place to bring her to, and she a negress. That's more of the family wisdom!”
”There may be affection in it.”
”Affection! For what,--for a black! Ay, and a black that they never set eyes on! If it was old Withering had the affection for her, I wouldn't be surprised.”
”What do you mean? Who is he?”
”The Attorney-General, who has been fighting the East India Company for her these sixteen years, and making more money out of the case than she 'll ever get back again. Did you ever hear of Barrington and Lot Rammadahn Mohr against the India Company? That's the case. Twelve millions of rupees and the interest on them! And I believe in my heart and soul old Peter would be well out of it for a thousand pounds.”
”That is, you suspect he must be beaten in the end?”
”I mean that I am sure of it! We have a saying in Ireland, 'It's not fair for one man to fall on twenty,' and it's just the same thing to go to law with a great rich Company. You 're sure to have the worst of it.”
”Did it never occur to them to make some sort of compromise?”
”Not a bit of it. Old Peter always thinks he has the game in his hand, and nothing would make him throw up the cards. No; I believe if you offered to pay the stakes, he 'd say, 'Play the game out, and let the winner take the money!'”
”His lawyer may, possibly, have something to say to this spirit.”
”Of course he has; they are always bolstering each other up. It is, 'Barrington, my boy, you 'll turn the corner yet. You 'll drive up that old avenue to the house you were born in, Barrington, of Barrington Hall;' or, 'Withering, I never heard you greater than on that point before the twelve Judges;' or, 'Your last speech at Bar was finer than Curran.' They'd pa.s.s the evening that way, and call me a cantankerous old hound when my back was turned, just because I did n't hark in to the cry. Maybe I have the laugh at them, after all.” And he broke out into one of his most discordant cackles to corroborate his boast.
”The sound sense and experience of an old Walcheren man might have its weight with them. I know it would with me.”
”Ay,” muttered the Major, half aloud, for he was thinking to himself whether this piece of flattery was a bait for a little whiskey-and-water.
”I 'd rather have the unbought judgment of a shrewd man of the world than a score of opinions based upon the quips and cranks of an attorney's instructions.”
”Ay!” responded the other, as he mumbled to himself, ”he's mighty thirsty.”