My Lords of Strogue. Volume 2 of 3. Wingfield Lewis

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СКАЧАТЬ read for the second time after grave and mature deliberation at 2.10 a.m.; and Doreen, when she read the note which informed her that it was carried by 137 against 7, had an extra douche of sorrow poured over her, in that her too facile parent had been its godfather!

      So martial law was declared, and the humane and benignant soldiery, whose good feeling had already been proven at Armagh and elsewhere, were to work their wicked will unrestrained. Doreen was too much upset to appear at breakfast, so my lady picnicked alone on the window-seat which looked upon the stable-yard, watching for her vagrant darling, keeping a keen look-out, too, as to whether her niece went out for a scamper. For my lady had passed a sleepless night-one of those terrible nuits blanches much worse than any nightmare-when all our sins sit heavy on our chests; when our brains throb to bursting, and we hope there is no hereafter. She tossed-listening for Shane's return-growing more feverish as hour after hour passed silently. Still at the Little House! This was maddening. The vision of Shane and Norah arriving to throw themselves upon their knees, danced before her eyes. Once or twice, when sinking into a doze, she sat up with a start, clutching the luxuriant braids of white hair which gave her in her looking-glass such an odd look of winter and autumn united. Manfully she had quelled any shrinking on her own account about returning to Ennishowen. To her who had borne so much, what mattered a little extra suffering? It was excellent advice that her niece had given her. The way, and the only way, out of the labyrinth was to transfer the establishment en bloc; she had recognised the fact, and had resolved, for her dear boy's sake, not to spare herself. But now, in dead of night, when the past stood out in phosphorescent light, and the future loomed even yet more ghastly, she had to fight the old weary moral fight again, in which she had so frequently been worsted. Again she saw her husband on that bed of chairs at Daly's. Again she heard him say, ere the last rattle stopped his voice for ever, 'Make right that wrong while there is time!' Again she welled over with impotent rage, whimsically mixed with penitence, in that she must wear the Nessus shirt which he had shuffled off long since. She realised, as she ruminated, that she had been deceiving herself as to the motives which kept her still at Strogue. It was a terror of the island of Glas-aitch-é at Ennishowen-of the tales which each twig and shrub would tell her there-of the songs which the waves would sing to her as they dashed against the cliffs-which had really delayed her starting. But there must be an end of this weakness. All was ready. For Shane's sake she would like to start upon the morrow, for the sooner she drank her dose the better; but, unfortunately, a promise had been given to attend their excellencies at a great ball which was to take place at the Castle-and to retire suddenly, in ticklish times like these, would certainly be construed as big with political import. But after all, this fête (which was to show the scum that their betters did not fear them) would be past in a few days. Till that time arrived my lady would continue to wait; but in order to underline for herself in her midnight self-communing the determination that there was to be no more cowardice, she then and there resolved that the great coach should take them upon the very same evening within the Castle-yard, and spirit them forward on their way, instead of making a fresh start from the Abbey on the morrow. This resolution being come to, my lady's mind became calmer. As the blue light of wintry morning struggled in she felt quite relieved, and got up presently-as imperious as usual-to await Lord Clare's communication, and watch the stable-yard for Shane's return.

      It was fully eleven o'clock before Lord Clare's carriage wheezed up the avenue-the casket which held Ireland's great man. For once Doreen had not bucketed forth on one of her wild rides. Shane had not yet come in.

      My lady swept out upon the narrow terrace in front of the hall-door to receive her guest. He must stand in need of refreshment; what would he please to take?

      He would take nothing for the moment. Yes-he would. It was a strange conceit in one who had visited there as a familiar gossip during so many years. He would take a view of Strogue Abbey-he would be shown over the mansion by its chatelaine. My lady was surprised. Indeed, she had not been over the quaint place herself for ages. What did my Lord Clare desire to see? Was it the dungeon? or the ancient kitchen and buttery, with its black woodwork, or the water-tower?

      He would see everything while he was about it, he said. In the first instance the young men's wing, with its museum of fishing-rods and guns-and-what was that over it-an armoury? Oh, indeed! he would like to look at it.

      'But perchance I should disturb the young gentlemen,' her guest said with hesitation. 'By-the-bye, has your son gone out?'

      To Lord Clare's genuine astonishment, my lady reddened and looked away. Could she know the mission on which he had come? If so, then she was a greater mistress of her face than he supposed. If not, what troubled her? He forgot that shrined in her love there was but one son. That while he was hinting of the second, she, with sorrow, was thinking of the first-who was dallying-where?

      The twain wandered in the young men's rooms-in Shane's, whose bed was smooth and neat-in Terence's, where faithful Phil was sitting, deeply engrossed in fly-making, as innocently as if he had never heard of a bough in England's crown.

      'Both boys out, then? so much the better,' gaily quoth the chancellor, who chose for a moment to ignore Terence's mysterious absence. 'I hope Terence is safe; I can assure you Shane is; I saw him not an hour since. He roystered with the Blasters all night, and of course had to fight a duel in the morning. Is not the motto of their gay society "Nemo me impune lacessit"? But he didn't get a scratch-indeed he's a splendid swordsman-such a tactician-so sharp and quick of eye! I must really congratulate him when he comes in by-and-by. Those spiral stairs? Ah! That's the armoury.'

      Phil dropped his flies, and leapt up from his seat. My lady and her guest, taking no heed of him, climbed upward, opened the armoury-door, went in and shut it. He could hear the creaking of their feet above. What could he do? Nothing! He sank panting on his seat, bewildered-then, stealing out, made the best of his way to the shebeen.

      'By-the-bye, where is Terence?' asked Lord Clare. 'You don't know? I do. My poor old friend, prepare yourself for a shock. Sit down.'

      With a gentleness which would have astonished his numerous enemies, the chancellor laid his two hands on my lady's shoulders and pressed her into a seat. The pupils of her eyes assumed that look, as of a startled hare, which shone in them sometimes. She sat down silently and waited.

      Had Terence been guilty of something base? That was her first thought, in which there was a touch of remorse. Then came a feeling of anger in that he existed at all. Oh that he had never been born, or had died in his early childhood! This in its turn was followed by intense self-loathing; but her face remained immovable, while she looked up with inquiring gaze.

      'I have most unpleasant news for you,' said Lord Clare kindly, for he liked my lady better than any one except himself, 'and thought it would come best to you from me. For we'll hush the matter up-rest easy on that score, trusting that no worse may come of it. Terence, as you know, was rude to me at Crow Street, t'other day. I didn't mind his petulance, of course; but for your sake I was hurt that he should have gone astray and made an exhibition of himself in public. It's your rough diamond Curran's fault, with his romantic balderdash about his country. He threw the young man into dangerous society, forgetting that it takes a seasoned head to weigh the hollowness of enthusiasm. Terence has been bitten by the prevailing rabies; the fever's hot upon him, and being of a higher breed than his companions, has rushed straightway into action, instead of merely prating like the others. As his mother, you should have greater influence over him than any one. Argue him out of his dangerous course. You think he's at Cork on law business? He's strutting up and down the landing-stage at Brest, with Tone and Hoche, and all the rest of the jays in peacock-plumes. He's urging the bevy of juvenile generals there to come across the water, despite the lateness of the season; in fact, he's beginning the risky game which brought Balmerino, Kilmarnock, Lovat, to the block. I'm sure of what I state-trust me for that. Why! these hot-pated fools do nothing that we're not informed of; and Mr. Pitt's staff in France is every whit as sharp as ours here. Do you desire a proof that I speak with authority? What are these things stacked here, under these cloths, within these presses, even piled, as СКАЧАТЬ