Part 18 (2/2)

'Are you fond of pickled herrings, Jack?' said O'Grady, as he took my arm.

'Pickled herrings! Why, what do you mean?'

'Probably,' resumed he, in the same dry tone of voice, 'you prefer ash bark, or asafetida?'

'Why, I can't say.'

'Ah, my boy, you 're difficult to please, then. What do you say to whale oil and Welsh wigs?'

'Confound me if I understand you!'

'Nothing more easy after all, for of each of these commodities I 'm now a possessor to the amount of some two hundred and twenty pounds. You look surprised, but such is the nature of our transactions here; and for my bill of five hundred, payable in six months, I have become a general merchant to the extent I've told you, not to mention paying eighty more for a certain gig and horse, popularly known in this city as the discount dennet. This,' continued he with a sigh, 'is about the tenth time I've been the owner of that vile conveyance; for you must know whenever f.a.gan advances a good round sum he always insists upon something of this kind forming part of it, and thus, according to the figure of your loan, you may drive from his door in anything, from a wheel-barrow to a stage-coach. As for the discount dennet, it is as well known as the black-cart that conveys the prisoners to Newgate, and the reputation of him who travels in either is pretty much on a par. From the crank of the rusty springs, to the limping amble of the malicious old black beast in the shafts, the whole thing has a look of beggary about it. Every jingle of the ragged harness seems to whisper in your ear, ”Fifty per cent.”; and drive which way you will, it is impossible to get free of the notion that you're not trotting along the road to ruin. To have been seen in it once is as though you had figured in the pillory, and the very fact of its being in your possession is a blow of a battering-ram to your credit for ever!'

[Ill.u.s.tration: 205]

'But why venture into it? If you must have it, let it be like the pickled herrings and the paving-stones--so much of pure loss.'

'The fact is, Jack, it is generally pa.s.sed off on a young hand, the first time he raises money. He knows little of the town, less of its secret practices, and not until he has furnished a hearty laugh to all his acquaintances does he discover the blunder he has committed.

Besides, sometimes you're hard up for something to carry you about.

I remember once keeping it an entire winter, and as I painted Lat.i.tat a good piebald, and had his legs whitewashed every morning, few recognised him, except such as had paid for their acquaintance. After this account, probably, you'll not like to drive with me; but as I am going to Loughrea for the races, I 've determined to take the dennet down, and try if I can't find a purchaser among the country gentlemen. And now let's think of dinner. What do you say to a cutlet at the club, and perhaps we shall strike out something there to finish our evening?'

CHAPTER XVII. AN EVENING IN TOWN

We dined at the club-house, and sat chatting over our wine till near ten o'clock. The events of the morning were our princ.i.p.al topics; for although I longed myself to turn the conversation to the Rooneys, I was deterred from doing so by the fear of another outbreak of O'Grady's mirth. Meanwhile the time rolled on, and rapidly too, for my companion, with an earnestness of manner and a force of expression I little knew he possessed, detailed to me many anecdotes of his own early career. From these I could glean that while O'Grady suffered himself to be borne along the current of dissipation and excess, yet in his heart he hated the life he led, and, when a moment of reflection came, felt sorrow for the past, and but little hope for the future.

'Yes, Jack,' said he, on concluding a narrative of continual family misfortune, 'there would seem a destiny in things; and if we look about us in the world we cannot fail to see that families, like individuals, have their budding spring of youth and hope, their manhood of pride and power, and their old age of feebleness and decay. As for myself, I am about the last branch of an old tree, and all my endeavour has been, to seem green and cheerful to the last. My debts have hung about my neck all through life; the extravagances of my early years have sat like a millstone upon me; and I who began the world with a heart brimful of hope, and a soul bounding with ambition, have lingered on my path like a truant schoolboy. And here I am, at the age of three-and-thirty, without having realised a single promise of my boyhood, the poorest of all imaginable things--a gentleman without fortune, a soldier without service, a man of energy without hope.'

'But why, Phil,' said I, 'how comes it that you never went out to the Peninsula?'

'Alas, my boy! from year to year I have gone on expecting my gazette to a regiment on service. Too poor to purchase, too proud to solicit, I have waited in anxious expectancy from some of those with whom, high as was their station, I've lived on terms of intimacy and friends.h.i.+p, that notice they extended to others less known than I was; but somehow the temperament that would seem to const.i.tute my happiness, has proved my bane, and those qualities which have made me a boon companion, have left me a beggar. Handed over from one viceroy to another, like a state trumpeter or a b.u.t.t of sherry, I have been left to linger out my best years a kind of court-jester; my only reward being, the hour of merriment over, that they who laughed with, should laugh at me.'

There was a tone of almost ferocity in the way he spoke these words; while the trembling lip, the flas.h.i.+ng eye, and the swollen veins of his temple betrayed that the very bitterest of all human emotions--self-scorn--was racking his heart within him.

For some time we were both silent. Had I even known what to say at such a moment, there was that comfortless expression about his face, that look of riveted despair, which would have rendered any effort on my part to console him a vain and presumptuous folly.

'But come, Jack,' said he, filling his gla.s.s and pus.h.i.+ng over the decanter to me, 'I have learned to put little faith in patrons; and although the information has been long in acquiring, still it has come at last, and I am determined to profit by it. I am now endeavouring to raise a little money to pay off the most pressing of my creditors, and have made an application to the Horse Guards to be appointed to any regiment on service, wherever it may be. If both these succeed, and it is necessary both should, then, Jack, I 'll try a new path, and even though it lead to nothing, yet, at least, it will be a more manly one to follow. And if I am to linger on to that period of life when to look back is nearly all that's left us--why, then, the retrospect will be less dashed with shame than with such a career as this is. Meanwhile, my boy, the decanter is with you, so fill your gla.s.s; I 'll join you presently.'

As he spoke, O'Grady sprang up and walked to the other end of the room, where a party of some half-dozen persons were engaged in putting on greatcoats, and b.u.t.toning up previous to departure. In an instant I could hear his voice high above the rest--that cheerful ringing tone that seemed the very tocsin of a happy heart--while at some observation he made, the whole party around him were convulsed with laughter. In the midst of all this he drew one of them aside, and conversing eagerly with him for a few seconds, pointed to me as he spoke.

'Thank you, my lord, thank you,' said he, as he turned away. 'I'll be answerable for my friend. Now, Hinton,' whispered he, as he leaned his hand upon my shoulder and bent over me, 'we 're in luck to-night, at all events, for I have just got permission to bring you with me where I am to spend the evening. It's no small favour if you knew but all; so finish your wine, for my friends there are moving already.'

All my endeavours to ascertain where we were going, or to whose house, were in vain; the only thing I could learn was, that my admission was a prodigious favour--while to satisfy my scruples about dress he informed me that no change of costume was necessary.

'I perceive,' said O'Grady, as he drew the curtain and looked out into the street, 'the night is fine and starlight; so what say you if we walk? I must tell you, however, our place of rendezvous is somewhat distant.'

Agreeing to the proposition with pleasure, I took his arm, and we sallied forth together. Our way led at first through a most crowded and frequented part of the capital We traversed Dame Street, pa.s.sed by the Castle, and ascended a steep street beyond it; after this we took a turning to the left, and entered a part of the city, to me at least, utterly unknown. For about half an hour we continued to wander on, now to the right, now to the left, the streets becoming gradually narrower, less frequented, and less lighted; the shops were all closed, and few persons stirred in the remote thoroughfares.

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