The O'Donoghue: Tale of Ireland Fifty Years Ago. Lever Charles James

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СКАЧАТЬ the pack to their glorious sport. As time wore on, and its course brought saddening fortunes to his master, Kerry’s occupation was invaded; the horses were sold, the hounds given up, and the kennel fell to ruins. Of the large household that once filled the castle, a few were now retained; but among these was Kerry. It was not that he was useful, or that his services could minister to the comfort or convenience of the family; far from it, the commonest offices of in-door life he was ignorant of, and, even if he knew, would have shrunk from performing them, as being a degradation. His whole skill was limited to the stable-yard, and there, now, his functions were unneeded. It would seem as if he were kept as a kind of memento of their once condition, rather than any thing else. There was a pride in maintaining one who did nothing the whole day but lounge about the offices and the court-yard, in his old ragged suit of huntsman. And so, too, it impressed the country people, who seeing him, believed that at any moment the ancient splendour of the house might shine forth again, and Kerry, as of yore, ride out on his thoroughbred, to make the valleys ring with music. He was, as it were, a kind of staff, through which, at a day’s notice, the whole regiment might be mustered. It was in this spirit he lived, and moved, and spoke. He was always going about looking after a “nice beast to carry the master,” and a “real bit of blood for Master Mark,” and he would send a gossoon to ask if Barry O’Brien of the bridge “heard tell of a fox in the cover below the road.” In fact, his preparations ever portended a speedy resumption of the habits in which his youth and manhood were spent.

      Such was the character who now, in the easy deshabille described, descended into the court-yard with a great bunch of keys in his hand, and led the way towards the stable.

      “I put the little mare into the hack-stable, Mr. Lawler,” said he, “because the hunters is in training, and I didn’t like to disturb them with a strange beast.”

      “Hunters in training!” replied Lanty in astonishment. “Why, I thought he had nothing but the grey mare with the black legs.”

      “And sure, if he hasn’t,” responded Kerry crankily, “couldn’t he buy them when he wants them.”

      “Oh, that’s it,” said the other, laughing to himself. “No doubt of it Kerry. Money will do many a thing.”

      “Oh, it’s wishing it I am for money! Bad luck to the peace or ease I ever seen since they became fond of money. I remember the time it was, ‘Kerry go down and bring this, or take that,’ and devil a more about it; and lashings of every thing there was. See now! if the horses could eat pease pudding, and drink punch, they’d got it for askin’; but now it’s all for saving, and saving. And sure, what’s the use of goold? God be good to us, as I heard Father Luke say, he’d do as much for fifteen shillings as for fifty pounds, av it was a poor boy wanted it.”

      “What nonsense are you talking, you old sinner, about saving. Why man, they haven’t got as much as they could bless themselves on, among them all. You needn’t be angry, Kerry. It’s not Lanty Lawler you can humbug that way. Is there an acre of the estate their own now? Not if every perch of it made four, it wouldn’t pay the money they owe.”

      “And if they do,” rejoined Kerry indignantly, “who has a better right, tell me that? Is it an O’Donoghue would be behind the rest of the country – begorra, ye’re bould to come up here and tell us that.”

      “I’m not telling you any thing of the kind – I’m saying that if they are ruined entirely – ”

      “Arrah! don’t provoke me. Take your baste and go, in God’s name.”

      And so saying, Kerry, whose patience was fast ebbing, pushed wide the stable-door, and pointed to the stall where Lanty’s hackney was standing.

      “Bring out that grey mare, Master Kerry,” said Lanty in a tone of easy insolence, purposely assumed to provoke the old huntsman’s anger, “Bring her out here.”

      “And what for, would I bring her out?”

      “May be I’ll tell you afterwards,” was the reply. “Just do as I say, now.”

      “The devil a one o’ me will touch the beast at your bidding; and what’s more, I’ll not let yourself lay a finger on her.”

      “Be quiet, you old fool,” said a deep voice behind him. He turned, and there stood Mark O’Donoghue himself, pale and haggard after his night’s excess. “Be quiet, I say. The mare is his – let him have her.”

      “Blessed Virgin!” exclaimed Kerry, “here’s the hunting season beginning, and sorrow thing you’ll have to put a saddle on, barrin’ – barrin’ – ”

      “Barring what?” interposed Lanty, with an insolent grin.

      The young man flushed at the impertinence of the insinuation, but said not a word for a few minutes, then suddenly exclaimed —

      “Lanty, I have changed my mind; I’ll keep the mare.”

      The horse-dealer started, and stared him full in the face —

      “Why Mr. Mark, surely you’re not in earnest? The beast is paid for – the bargain all settled.”

      “I don’t care for that. There’s your money again. I’ll keep the mare.”

      “Ay, but listen to reason. The mare is mine. She was so when you handed me the luck-penny, and if I don’t wish to part with her, you cannot compel me.”

      “Can’t I?” retorted Mark, with a jeering laugh; “can’t I, faith? Will you tell me what’s to prevent it? Will you take the law of me? Is that your threat?”

      “Devil a one ever said I was that mean, before!” replied Lanty, with an air of deeply-offended pride. “I never demeaned myself to the law, and I’m fifteen years buying and selling horses in every county in Munster. No, Mr. Mark, it is not that; but I’ll just tell you the truth, The mare is all as one as sold already; – there it is now, and that’s the whole secret.”

      “Sold! What do you mean? – that you had sold that mare before you ever bought her?”

      “To be sure I did,” cried Lanty, assuming a forced look of easy assurance he was very far from feeling at the moment. “There’s nothing more common in my trade. Not one of us buys a beast without knowing where the next owner is to be had.”

      “And do you mean, sir,” said Mark, as he eyed him with a steady stare, “do you mean to tell me that you came down here, as you would to a petty fanner’s cabin, with your bank-notes, ready to take whatever you may pitch your fancy on, sure and certain that our necessities must make us willing chapmen for all you care to deal in – do you dare to say that you have done this with me?”

      For an instant Lanty was confounded. He could not utter a word, and looked around him in the vain hope of aid from any other quarter, but none was forthcoming. Kerry was the only unoccupied witness of the scene, and his face beamed with ineffable satisfaction at the turn matters had taken, and as he rubbed his hands he could scarcely control his desire to laugh outright, at the lamentable figure of his late antagonist.

      “Let me say one word, Master Mark,” said Lanty at length, and in a voice subdued to its very softest key – “just a single word in your own ear,” and with that he led the young man outside the door of the stable, and whispered for some minutes, with the greatest earnestness, concluding in a voice loud enough to be heard by Kerry —

      “And after that, I’m sure I need say no more.”

      Mark made СКАЧАТЬ