Volume I Part 12 (1/2)

Go and tell him so.'

'Most obliging, no doubt,' said Terence, with a half-smile; 'but you must refrain this time, for my sake. Indeed, you employed language such as sure never before was used to a lord chancellor. If he survives your words, no bullet can affect him.'

'It's no use!' persisted the little man, s.h.i.+vering like an aspen; 'I shan't sleep until I shoot that rascal.'

But Terence pa.s.sed his arm affectionately within his, and Curran perceived that there was something amiss with him.

'You have other duties, my old friend,' the young man sighed. 'Come, come--you must be dignified.'

'Is it I?' returned the other, rubbing his nose ruefully. 'I fear dignity is a robe which he who would box must lay aside during the sparring. Maybe, when the fight's done, he'll find that it has been stolen during the battle! A fig for dignity! I'd rather have a blaze.'

'No!' pursued the young man, mournfully. 'For my sake, you will abandon this quarrel. I must leave this house, and to whose should I fly if not to yours? I must go away, for this can be borne no longer.

There is a limit to human patience, and mine is a small allowance.'

'Do nothing rashly,' Curran urged.

'I tell you I cannot bear it,' the young man retorted with vehemence.

'Who knows to what I might be tempted if Shane should go too far? I tell you I dare not trust myself. And my mother has no sympathy for me, as you saw; for she was superbly indifferent when he threw that insult in my teeth. What cares she if I am insulted or not? Such words from another man, and I would have sprung at his throat at once. When we fear temptation, it is best to run away from it.'

Curran reflected for a moment, and then grunted:

'Boy! Coriola.n.u.s replied to his pleading parent, ”Mother, you have conquered.” To oblige you, I will not shoot Lord Clare.'

'I thank you for making an old woman of me!' Terence replied, with a tinge of humour. 'My conduct was somewhat like a woman's, I confess, for sure no man should bear so great an insult, even from a brother!'

'You know best,' the little man said, patting his companion's shoulder fondly. 'But it seems sad thus to shake off the dust of your ancestral home. Maybe, if he sees you won't be put upon, my lord may grow more civil. Shane no doubt is trying, and you are a warm-complexioned young gentleman. Having no son, I would gladly take you to fill the vacant place, as no one knows better than yourself. You shall stay with me for a few months, and I'll speak to her ladys.h.i.+p about my lord, who must be taught to cultivate a civil tongue and apologise; for there must be no open rupture between you. We'll say it's for convenience'

sake, as I want to make a great lawyer of you. There are briefs you must study for me, and they pour in, you know. How'll I get through the papers at all at all, unless I have my junior near me?'

And thus the matter was settled between them, while the elder wondered what Mrs. Gillin would think of the arrangement. She must be hoodwinked without delay to prevent mischief, or she would come clamouring up to the Abbey in her quality-clothes, and all the fat would be in the fire at once.

Hearing a light footstep on the gravel, Terence turned, and a pang shot through his heart as he beheld his cousin. It was dreadful to leave her behind, in the maw as it were of Shane. Yet what difference could his absence make to one who treated him so scurvily? And those smart garments, too--that aggravatingly bewitching bonnet--for whose behoof were they intended? Not for his, certainly. All things considered, it was best that he should go.

Meanwhile my lady calmly discussed a late breakfast in the oak parlour with Lord Clare, unconscious that the behaviour of her sons had been more indecorous than usual, while the originator of the quarrel trifled languidly with an egg, speculating about time and place, whether the duel between Curran and the chancellor was to be with sword or pistol. Why not directly after breakfast in the rosary? a capital spot, sheltered from wind and observation. Terence would of course be Curran's second; Ca.s.sidy here, who had been hanging about in a deprecatory manner, first on one leg, then on the other, would be the chancellor's; while he, my lord, would see fair play. An excellent arrangement. Then the combatants might amicably return together to Dublin in the golden coach to set about the business of the day.

Having settled the party of pleasure to his liking and reviewed its details, the King of the Cherokees was no little disgusted to see Mr.

Curran enter presently and take his seat as if nothing had happened.

My lady, on the other hand, was mightily relieved, for she liked the two almost equally well, leaning a little perhaps to the side of the chancellor, on account of his polish and fine manners. She was not blind to the faults of either of her friends. Clare, she knew, despised literature, in which Curran delighted. He disdained the arts of winning; was sullen sometimes, and always overbearing; and when he condescended to be jocular was usually offensive. But then he was a dazzling light. Curran was particularly interesting to the stately countess by reason of his marvellous energy and originality. He was quicksilver--surcharged with life--restless, sparkling, bewildering; and it amused her to try to control his erratic movements. Many a time she lectured, in private, Curran with reference to Clare--Clare with regard to Curran.

The latter was in the habit of deploring that the former was a patriot lost, seduced by England, because of his aristocratic proclivities. A patriot cannot be a courtier, he constantly declared. The ways of the aristocracy grow more brutal and more reckless with impunity; the coa.r.s.eness of their debauchery would have disgusted the crew of Comus; their drunkenness, their blasphemy, their ferocity, have left the ignorant English squires far behind. To this the countess would reply (who knew little of the Dublin _monde_, living as she did a retired life) that he was bia.s.sed by the prejudice of his Irish slovenliness, in that he could not look upon a man as honest who wore clean linen and velvet small-clothes. And so the friendly conflict would go on, one scoring a point and then the other, one breaking into rage and the other apologising; and so the incongruous cronies wrangled along the road of life, battling with the breezes which blew round them, whether from east or west.

Mr. Curran sat down to his breakfast as if nothing had happened, tucking a napkin into his vest, and handing my Lord Clare, with biting amiability, the salt or the b.u.t.ter or the bread, while my lady marked with satisfaction that this tempest was but a squall. That the chairs of Terence and her niece should remain unoccupied was a matter of no moment, for the former was probably sulky after his snubbing; while as for Doreen, her conduct was always more or less improper. Perhaps her serene ladys.h.i.+p would have been ruffled if she could have looked on them in the stable-yard, for they were standing very close together, the one subdued by the prospect of leaving his home for the first time, the other saddened with thinking of the arrests.

They stood very close together, oblivious of the morning meal; and Terence caressed the moist muzzles of the hounds with lingering fingers, while his cousin observed that an interesting air of sadness suited him. A too healthy look, a too ruddy cheek, are to be deprecated as unfavourable to romance; yet is there a peculiar and specially captivating interest about a humdrum exterior with a blight on it. Terence was too fat and sleek; unheroic, prosaic to an absurd degree. At least his cousin chose to think so as she looked at him.

Then she glanced down at her own fine raiment with disgust, and hated prosperity. What right had she to flaunt in delicate muslins while her people were in bondage? Sackcloth and ashes would become her better, now that the last champions of her faith were pining in duress. As for the youth here, it was only fitting that he should be fat and sleek; for was he not a Protestant, one of the oppressors? What was his trouble to her trouble--sorrow for a race ground down? True, his mother loved him not, and his brother was inconsiderate. He should have spoken boldly, putting his foot down as Doreen would have done, though his was big and hers was tiny--demanding at least some sort of respectful consideration, instead of wrapping himself in injured airs as he proposed to do. And as the thought pa.s.sed through her mind it was touched by a tinge of self; for if Terence were to go away, one of the safeguards of his cousin's peace would slip from her. With the instinct of intrigue, which is planted in the staidest of female bosoms, she had determined that the best way, perhaps, of counteracting her aunt's eccentric marriage scheme would be to play one brother off against the other. As to a match with Shane, that was out of the question; to marry Terence would be equally undesirable.

Even now, the wistful humility with which he surveyed her fairy bonnet was conducive only to laughter. He did not care for her any more than she cared for him--of course not. But is it not _de rigueur_ for youths to sigh intermittently after domesticated cousins till the moment for the _grande pa.s.sion_ arrives, when they breathe like furnaces and threaten to fling themselves out of windows? His was clearly a case of primary intermittent fever, which was not a serious cause for alarm; and the damsel was quite justified in employing its vagaries for the protection of her own peace. My lady's project, she considered, would tumble to pieces in time through inherent weakness.

Till that auspicious moment arrived it would be necessary to stave off a crisis. It was merely a matter of time--a brief struggle between two strong wills, in which my lady would succ.u.mb, as she invariably did when pitted against her stubborn niece. For this reason it was annoying that Terence should go away, and Doreen felt tempted to employ such arts as she might, without being unmaidenly, for the prevention of a family split. She said therefore, with a distracting glance of her brown eyes, while eager muzzles wormed into her hand: