The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. I (of II). Lever Charles James

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СКАЧАТЬ me what a blessing it was, through all her troubles and trials in life; and she had her share of them, for my father was often in drink, and very cruel at times. ‘It supports me,’ she used to say, ‘to remember who I am, and the stock I came from, and to know that there ‘s not one belonging to me would speak to me, nor look at the same side of the road with me, after what I done; and, Matty,’ said she to me, ‘if ever it happens to you to marry a man beneath you in life, always bear in mind that, no matter how he treats you, you ‘re better than him.’ And, indeed, it’s a great support and comfort to one’s feelings, after all,” said she, with a deep sigh.

      “I’m certain of it,” muttered Joe, who had not followed one word of the harangue.

      “But mind that you never tell your father so. Indeed, I would n’t let on to him what happened this evening.”

      “What was that?” asked the young man, roused by the increased anxiety of her manner.

      “It was a visit I had, my dear,” replied the old lady, with a simpering consciousness that she had something to reveal, – “it was a visit I had paid me, and by an elegant young lady, too.”

      “A young lady? Not Miss Cassidy, mother. I think she left yesterday morning.”

      “No, indeed, my dear. Somebody very different from Miss Cassidy; and you might guess till you were tired before you ‘d think of Miss Martin.”

      “Miss Martin!” echoed Joe.

      “Exactly so. Miss Martin of Cro’ Martin; and the way it happened was this. I was sitting here alone in the room after my tea, – for I sent Biddy out to borrow the ‘Intelligence’ for me; and then comes a sharp knock to the door, and I called out, ‘Come in;’ but instead of doing so there was another rapping, louder than before, and I said, ‘Bother you, can’t you lift the latch?’ and then I heard something like a laugh, and so I went out; and you may guess the shame I felt as I saw a young lady fastening the bridle of her horse to the bar of the window. ‘Mrs. Nelli-gan, I believe,’ said she, with a smile and a look that warmed my heart to her at once; and as I courtesied very low, she went on. I forget, indeed, the words, – whether she said she was Miss Martin, or it was I that asked the question; but I know she came in with me to the room, and sat down where you are sitting now. ‘Coming back from Kyle’s Wood this morning,’ said she, ‘I overtook poor Billy with the post. He was obliged to go two miles out of his way to ford the river; and what with waiting for the mail, which was late in coming, and what with being wet through, he was completely knocked up; so I offered to take the bag for him, and send it over to-morrow by one of our people. But the poor fellow would n’t consent, because he was charged with something of consequence for you, – a small bottle of medicine. Of course I was only too happy to take this also, Mrs. Nelligan, and here it is.’ And with that she put it on the table, where you see it. I ‘m sure I never knew how to thank her enough for her good nature, but I said all that I could think of, and told her that my son was just come back from college, after getting the gold medal.”

      “You did n’t speak of that, mother,” said he, blushing till his very forehead was crimson.

      “Indeed, then, I did, Joe; and I ‘d like to know why I would n’t. Is it a shame or a disgrace to us! At any rate, she didn’t think so, for she said, ‘You must be very proud of him;’ and I told her so I was, and that he was as good as he was clever; and, moreover, that the newspapers said the time was coming when men like young Nelligan would soar their way up to honors and distinctions in spite of the oppressive aristocracy that so long had combined to degrade them.”

      “Good Heavens! mother, you could n’t have made such a speech as that?” cried he, in a voice of downright misery.

      “Did n’t I, then? And did n’t she say, if there were any such oppression as could throw obstacles in the way of deserving merit, she heartily hoped it might prove powerless; and then she got up to wish me good-evening. I thought, at first, a little stiffly, – that is, more haughty in her manner than at first; but when I arose to see her out, and she saw I was lame, she pressed me down into my chair, and said, in such a kind voice, ‘You must n’t stir, my dear Mrs. Nelligan. I, who can find my road over half of the county, can surely discover my way to the door.’ ‘Am I ever like to have the happiness of seeing you again, miss?’ said I, as I held her hand in mine. ‘Certainly, if it would give you the very slightest pleasure,’ said she, pressing my hand most cordially; and with that we parted. Indeed, I scarce knew she was gone, when I heard the clattering of the horse over the shingle; for she was away in a gallop, dark as the night was. Maybe,” added the old lady, with a sigh, – “maybe, I ‘d have thought it was all a dream if it was n’t that I found that glove of hers on the floor; she dropped it, I suppose, going out.”

      Young Nelligan took up the glove with a strange feeling of bashful reverence. It was as though he was touching a sacred relic; and he stood gazing on it steadfastly for some seconds.

      “I ‘ll send it over to the house by Biddy, with my compliments, and to know how the family is, in the morning,” said Mrs. Nelligan, with the air of one who knew the value of conventional usages.

      “And she ‘ll make some stupid blunder or other,” replied Joe, impatiently, “that will cover us all with shame. No, mother, I ‘d rather go with it myself than that.”

      “To be sure, and why not?” said Mrs. Nelligan. “There ‘s no reason why you should be taking up old quarrels against the Martins; for my part, I never knew the country so pleasant as it used to be long ago, when we used to get leave to go picnicking on the grounds of Cro’ Martin, up to the Hermitage, as they called it; and now the gates are locked and barred like a jail, and nobody allowed in without a ticket.”

      “Yes, I’ll go myself with it,” said Joe, who heard nothing of his mother’s remark, but was following out the tract of his own speculations. As little did he attend to the various suggestions she threw out for his guidance and direction, the several topics to which he might, and those to which he must not, on any account, allude.

      “Not a word, for your life, Joe, about the right of pathway to Clune Abbey, and take care you say nothing about the mill-race at Glandaff, nor the shooting in Kyle’s Wood. And if by any chance there should be a talk about the tolls at Oughterard, say you never heard of them before. Make out, in fact,” said she, summing up, “as if you never heard of a county where there was so much good-will and kindness between the people; and sure it is n’t your fault if it’s not true!” And with this philosophic reflection Mrs. Nelligan wished her son good-night, and retired.

      CHAPTER III. AN AUTUMN MORNING IN THE WEST

      The Osprey’s Nest was, I have said, like a direct challenge hurled at the face of western gales and Atlantic storms. With what success, its aspect of dilapidation and decay but too plainly betrayed. The tangled seaweed that hung in dripping festoons over the porch, the sea-shells that rattled against the window-panes, seemed like an angry denunciation of the attempt to brave the elements by the mere appliances of ease and luxury.

      It was better, however, in the inside, where, in a roomy apartment, most comfortably furnished, a lady and gentleman sat at breakfast. The table stood in a little projection of the room, admitting of a wide sea-view over the bay and the distant islands of Lettermullen, but as carefully excluded all prospect of the port, – a locality which held no high place in the esteem of the lady of the house, and which, by ignoring, she half fancied she had annihilated. Wild promontories of rocks, jutting out here and there, broke the coast line, and marked the shore with a foaming stream of white water, as the ever-restless sea dashed over them. The long booming swell of the great ocean bounded into many a rocky cavern, with a loud report like thunder, and issued forth again with a whole cataract of falling stones, that rattled like the СКАЧАТЬ