Lord Kilgobbin. Lever Charles James

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СКАЧАТЬ and as in traffic it contributes wonderfully to the facilities of business to use the same money, so in the common intercourse of life will the habit to estimate things at the same value conduce to very easy relations, and something almost like friendship.

      While they sat over the fire awaiting their supper, each had lighted a cigar, busying himself from time to time in endeavouring to dry some drenched article of dress, or extracting from damp and dripping pockets their several contents.

      ‘This, then,’ said the younger man – ‘this is the picturesque Ireland our tourist writers tell us of; and the land where the Times says the traveller will find more to interest him than in the Tyrol or the Oberland.’

      ‘What about the climate?’ said the other, in a deep bass voice.

      ‘Mild and moist, I believe, are the epithets; that is, it makes you damp, and it keeps you so.’

      ‘And the inns?’

      ‘The inns, it is admitted, might be better; but the traveller is admonished against fastidiousness, and told that the prompt spirit of obligeance, the genial cordiality, he will meet with, are more than enough to repay him for the want of more polished habits and mere details of comfort and convenience.’

      ‘Rotten humbug! I don’t want cordiality from my innkeeper.’

      ‘I should think not! As, for instance, a bit of carpet in this room would be worth more than all the courtesy that showed us in.’

      ‘What was that lake called – the first place I mean?’ asked Lockwood.

      ‘Lough Brin. I shouldn’t say but with better weather it might be pretty.’

      A half-grunt of dissent was all the reply, and Walpole went on —

      It’s no use painting a landscape when it is to be smudged all over with Indian ink. There are no tints in mountains swathed in mist, no colour in trees swamped with moisture; everything seems so imbued with damp, one fancies it would take two years in the tropics to dry Ireland.’

      ‘I asked that fellow who showed us the way here, why he didn’t pitch off those wet rags he wore, and walk away in all the dignity of nakedness.’

      A large dish of rashers and eggs, and a mess of Irish stew, which the landlord now placed on the table, with a foaming jug of malt, seemed to rally them out of their ill-temper; and for some time they talked away in a more cheerful tone.

      ‘Better than I hoped for,’ said Walpole.

      ‘Fair!’

      ‘And that ale, too – I suppose it is called ale – is very tolerable.’

      ‘It’s downright good. Let us have some more of it.’ And he shouted, ‘Master!’ at the top of his voice. ‘More of this,’ said Lockwood, touching the measure. ‘Beer or ale, which is it?’

      ‘Castle Bellingham, sir,’ replied the landlord; ‘beats all the Bass and Allsopp that ever was brewed.’

      ‘You think so, eh?’

      ‘I’m sure of it, sir. The club that sits here had a debate on it one night, and put it to the vote, and there wasn’t one man for the English liquor. My lord there,’ said he, pointing to the portrait, ‘sent an account of it all to Saunders’ newspaper.’

      While he left the room to fetch the ale, the travellers both fixed their eyes on the picture, and Walpole, rising, read out the inscription – ‘Viscount Kilgobbin.’

      ‘There’s no such title,’ said the other bluntly.

      ‘Lord Kilgobbin – Kilgobbin? Where did I hear that name before?’

      ‘In a dream, perhaps.’

      ‘No, no. I have heard it, if I could only remember where and how! I say, landlord, where does his lordship live?’ and he pointed to the portrait.

      ‘Beyond, at the castle, sir. You can see it from the door without when the weather’s fine.’

      ‘That must mean on a very rare occasion!’ said Lockwood gravely.

      ‘No indeed, sir. It didn’t begin to rain on Tuesday last till after three o’clock.’

      ‘Magnificent climate!’ exclaimed Walpole enthusiastically.

      ‘It is indeed, sir. Glory be to God!’ said the landlord, with an honest gravity that set them both off laughing.

      ‘How about this club – does it meet often?’

      ‘It used, sir, to meet every Thursday evening, and my lord never missed a night, but quite lately he took it in his head not to come out in the evenings. Some say it was the rheumatism, and more says it’s the unsettled state of the country; though, the Lord be praised for it, there wasn’t a man fired at in the neighbourhood since Easter, and he was a peeler.’

      ‘One of the constabulary?’

      ‘Yes, sir; a dirty, mean chap, that was looking after a poor boy that set fire to Mr. Hagin’s ricks, and that was over a year ago.’

      ‘And naturally forgotten by this time?’

      ‘By coorse it was forgotten. Ould Mat Hagin got a presentment for the damage out of the grand-jury, and nobody was the worse for it at all.’

      ‘And so the club is smashed, eh?’

      ‘As good as smashed, sir; for whenever any of them comes now of an evening, he just goes into the bar and takes his glass there.’

      He sighed heavily as he said this, and seemed overcome with sadness.

      ‘I’m trying to remember why the name is so familiar to me. I know I have heard of Lord Kilgobbin before,’ said Walpole.

      ‘Maybe so,’ said the landlord respectfully. ‘You may have read in books how it was at Kilgobbin Castle King James came to stop after the Boyne; that he held a “coort” there in the big drawing-room – they call it the “throne-room” ever since – and slept two nights at the castle afterwards?’

      ‘That’s something to see, Walpole,’ said Lockwood.

      ‘So it is. How is that to be managed, landlord? Does his lordship permit strangers to visit the castle?’

      ‘Nothing easier than that, sir,’ said the host, who gladly embraced a project that should detain his guests at the inn. ‘My lord went through the town this morning on his way to Loughrea fair; but the young ladies is at home; and you’ve only to send over a message, and say you’d like to see the place, and they’ll be proud to show it to you.’

      ‘Let us send our cards, with a line in pencil,’ said Walpole, in a whisper to his friend.

      ‘And there are young ladies there?’ asked Lockwood.

      ‘Two born beauties; it’s hard to say which is handsomest,’ replied the host, overjoyed at the attraction his neighbourhood possessed.

      ‘I suppose that will do?’ said Walpole, showing what he had written on his card.

      ‘Yes, СКАЧАТЬ