Read The Knight Of Gwynne, Vol. 1 (of 2) Page 7


  CHAPTER V. AN AFTER-DINNER STORY

  The unhappy event which so suddenly interrupted the conviviality of theparty scarcely made a more than momentary impression. Altercationswhich ended most seriously were neither rare nor remarkable at thedinner-tables of the country gentlemen, and if the present instancecaused an unusual interest, it was only because one of the parties wasan Englishman.

  As for Forester himself, his first burst of anger over, he forgot allin his astonishment that the host was not "the Knight" himself, but onlyhis representative and friend, Bagenal Daly.

  "Come, Captain Forester," said he, "I owe you an _amende_ for themystification I have practised upon you. You shall have it. Yourtravelling acquaintance at Kilbeggan was the 'Knight of Gwynne;' and thefew lines he sent through your hands contained an earnest desire thatyour stay here might be sufficiently prolonged to admit of his meetingyou at his return."

  "I shall be extremely sorry," said Forester, in a low voice, "ifanything that has occurred to-night shall deprive me of that pleasure."

  "No, no--nothing of the kind," said Daly, with a significant nod of hishead. "Leave that to me." Then, raising his voice, he added: "What doyou say to that claret, Conolly?"

  "I agree with you," replied a rosy-cheeked old squire in ahunting-dress, "it 's too old,--there's little spirit left in it."

  "Quite true, Tom. Wine has its dotage, like the rest of us. All that thebest can do is to keep longest; and, after all, we scarcely can complainof the vintage that has a taste of its once flavor at our age. It's along time since we were schoolfellows."

  "It is not an hour less than--"

  "Stop, Tom,--no more of that. Of all scores to go back upon, that ofyears past is the saddest."

  "By Jove! I don't think so," said the hearty old squire, as he tossedoff a bumper. "I never remember riding better than I did to-day. AskBeecham O'Reilly there which of us was first over the double ditch atthe red barn."

  "You forget, sir," said the young gentleman referred to, "that I was onan English-bred mare, and she doesn't understand these fences."

  "Faith, she wasn't worse off, in that respect, than the man on herback," said old Conolly, with a hearty chuckle. "If to look before youleap be wisdom, you ought to be the shrewdest fellow in the country."

  "Beecham, I believe, keeps a good place in Northamptonshire," said hisfather, half proudly.

  "Another argument in favor of the Union, I suppose," whispered a guestin Conolly's ear.

  "Well, well," sighed the old squire, "when I was a young man, we 'dhave thought of bringing over a dromedary from Asia as soon as anEnglish horse to cross the country with."

  "Dick French was the only one I ever heard of backing a dromedary," saida fat old farmer-like man, from the end of the table.

  "How was that, Martin?" said Daly, with a look that showed he eitherknew the story or anticipated something good.

  "And by all accounts, it 's the devil to ride," resumed the old fellow;"now it's the head down and the loins up, and then a roll to one side,and then to the other, and a twist in the small of your back, as if itwere coming in two. Oh, by the good day! Dick gave me as bad as a stitchin the side just telling me about it."

  "But where did he get his experience, Martin? I never heard of itbefore," said Daly.

  "He was a fortnight in Egypt, sir," said the old farmer. "He was in afrigate, or a man-of-war of one kind or another, off--the devil a one o'me knows well where it was, but there was a consul there, a son of oneof his father's tenants--indeed, ould French got him the place from theGovernment--and when he found out that Dick was on board the ship, whatdoes he do but writes him an invitation to pass a week or ten days withhim at his house, and that he 'd show him some sport. 'We 've eleganthunting,' says he; 'not foxes or hares, but a big bird, bigger nor agoose, they call--'By my conscience, I 'll forget my own name next, forI heard Dick tell the story at least twenty times."

  "Was it an ostrich?" said Tom.

  "No; nor an oyster either, Mr. Conolly," said the old fellow, whothought the question was meant to quiz him.

  "'T was an ibis, Martin," cried Daly,--"an ibis."

  "The devil a doubt of it,--that's the name. A crayture with legs aslong as Mr. Beecham O'Reilly's, and a way of going--half-flying,half-walking--almost impossible to catch; and they hunt him ondromedaries. Dick liked the notion well, and as he was a favorite onboard, he got lave for three days to go on shore and have his fun;though the captain said, at parting, 'It's not many dromedaries you'llsee, Dick, for the Pasha has them all up the country at this time.' Thiswas true enough; sorra a bit of a camel or dromedary could be seen formiles round. But however it was, the consul kept his word, and had onefor Dick the next morning,--a great strapping baste, all covered withtrappings of one kind or other; elegant shawls and little hearthrugs allover him.

  "The others were mounted on mules or asses, any way they could, and awaythey went to look after the goose--the 'ibis,' I mean. Well, to be shortwith it, they came up with one on the bank of the river, and soon gavechase; he was a fine strong fellow, and well able to run. I wish youheard Dick tell this part of it; never was there such sport in theworld, blazing away all together as fast as they could prime and load,at one time at the goose, more times at each other; the mules kicking,the asses braying, and Dick cantering about on his dromedary, upsettingevery one near him, and shouting like mad. At last he pinned the gooseup in a narrow corner among some old walls, and Dick thought he 'dhave the brush; but sorra step the dromedary would stir; he spurred andkicked, and beat away with a stick as hard as he could, but it was allno good,--it was the carpets maybe, that saved him; for there he stoodfast, just for all the world as if he was made of stone.

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  "Dick pulled out a pistol and fired a shot in his ear, but all to nouse; he minded it no more than before. 'Bad luck to you for a baste,'says Dick, 'what ails you at all--are you going to die on me? Get alongnow.' The divil receave the step I 'll go till I get some spiritsand wather!' says the dromedary, 'for I 'm clean smothered with themb------y blankets;' and with them same words the head of the baste felloff, and Dick saw the consul's own man wiping the perspiration off hisface, and blowing like a porpoise. 'How the divil the hind legs bearsit I can't think,' says he; 'for I 'm nigh dead, though I had a taste offresh air.'

  "The murther was out, gentlemen, for ye see the consul could n't geta raal dromedary, and was obliged to make one out of a Christian and ablack fellow he had for a cook, and sure enough in the beginning of theday Dick says he went like a clipper; 'twas doubling after the goosedestroyed him."

  Whether the true tale had or had not been familiar to most of thecompany before, it produced the effect Bagenal Daly desired, by at firstcreating a hearty roar of laughter, and then, as seems the consequencein all cases of miraculous narrative, set several others upon recountingstories of equal credibility. Daly encouraged this new turn ofconversation with all the art of one who knew how to lead men's thoughtsinto a particular channel without exciting suspicion of his intentionsby either abruptness or over zeal: to any ordinary observer, indeed, hewould have now appeared a mere enjoyer of the scene, and not the spiritwho gave it guidance and direction.

  In this way passed the hours long after midnight, when, one by one,the guests retired to their rooms; Forester remaining at the tablein compliance with a signal which Daly had made him, until at lengthHickman O'Reilly stood up to go, the last of all, save Daly and theyoung guardsman.

  Passing round the table, he leaned over Forester's chair, and in a low,cautious whisper, said, "You have put down the greatest bully in thiscountry, Captain Forester; do not spoil your victory by being drawn intoa disreputable quarrel! Good night, gentlemen both," said he, aloud, andwith a polite bow left the room.

  "What was that he whispered?" said Daly, as the door closed and theywere left alone together.

  Forester repeated the words.

  "Ah, I guessed why he sat so late; he sees the game clearly enough.You, sir, have taken up the glaive th
at was thrown down for his son'sacceptance, and he knows the consequence--clever fellow that he is! Hadyou been less prompt, Beecham's poltroonery might have escaped notice;and even now, if you were to decline a meeting--"

  "But I have no intention of doing any such thing."

  "Of course, I never supposed you had; but were you to be swayed by wrongcounsels and do so, Master Beecham would be saved even yet. Well, well,I am sorry, Captain Forester, you should have met such a receptionamongst us, and my friend Darcy will be deeply grieved at it. However,we have other occupation now than vain regret, so to bed as fast as youcan, and to sleep; the morning is not very far off, and we shall havesome one from MacDonough here by daybreak."

  With a cordial shake-hands, like men who already knew and felt kindlytowards each other, they separated for the night.

  While Forester was thus sensible of the manliness and straightforwardresolution that marked Bagenal Daly's character, he was very far fromfeeling satisfied with the position in which he found himself placed. Aduel under any circumstances is scarcely an agreeable incident in one'slife; but a meeting whose origin is at a drinking-bout, and wherethe antagonist is a noted fire-eater, and by that very reputationdiscreditable, is still a great aggravation of the evil.

  To have embroiled himself in a quarrel of this kind would, he well knew,greatly prejudice him in the estimation of his cold-tempered relative,Lord Castlereagh, who would not readily forgive an indiscretion thatshould mar his own political views. As he sat in his dressing-roomrevolving such unpleasant reflections, there came a gentle tap at thedoor; he had but time to say, "Come in," when Mr. Hickman O'Reillyentered.

  "Will you excuse this intrusion, Captain Forester?" said he, with anaccent in which the blandest courtesy was mingled with a well-affectedcordiality; "but I really could not lay my head on a pillow intranquillity until I had seen and spoken to you in confidence. Thisfoolish altercation--"

  "Oh, pray don't let that give you a moment's uneasiness! I believe Iunderstand the position the gentleman you allude to occupies in yourcountry society: that license is accorded him, and freedoms taken withhim, not habitually the case in the world at large."

  "You are quite right, your views are strictly accurate. MacDonough is alow fellow of very small fortune, no family,--indeed, what pretension hehas to associate with the gentry I am unable to guess, nor would youhave ever seen him under this roof had the Knight been at home; Mr.Daly, however, who, being an old schoolfellow and friend of Darcy's,does the honors here in his absence, is rather indiscriminate in hishospitalities. You may have remarked around the table somesingular-looking guests,--in fact, he not only invites the wholehunting-field, but half the farmers over whose ground we 've ridden,and, were it not that they have sense and shame enough to see their ownplace with truer eyes, we should have an election mob here every day ofthe week; but this is not exactly the topic which led to my intrudingupon you. I wished, in the first place, to rest assured that you had nointention of noticing the man's impertinence, or of accepting anyprovocation on his part; in fact, were he admissible to such aprivilege, my son Beecham would have at once taken the whole uponhimself, it being more properly his quarrel than yours."

  Forester, with all his efforts, was unable to repress a slight smileat these words. O'Reilly noticed it, and colored up, while he added:"Beecham, however, knew the impossibility of such a course,--in fact,Captain Forester, I may venture to say, without any danger of beingmisunderstood by you, that my son has imbibed more correct notions ofthe world and its habits at _your_ side of St. George's Channel thancould have fallen to him had his education been merely Irish."

  This compliment, if well meant, was scarcely very successful, forForester bit his lip impatiently, but never made any answer. WhetherO'Reilly perceived the cause of this, or that, like a skilful painter,he knew when to take his brush off the canvas, he arose at once andsaid, "I leave you, then, with a mind much relieved. I feared that amistaken estimate of MacDonough's claims in society, and probably somehot-brained counsels of Mr. Bagenal Daly--"

  "You are quite in error there; let me assure you, sir, his view of thematter is exactly my own," interrupted Forester, calmly.

  "I am delighted to hear it, and have now only one request: will youfavor us with a few days' visit at Mount O'Reilly? I may say, withoutvanity, that my son is more likely to be a suitable companion to youthan the company here may afford; we 've some good shooting and--"

  "I must not suffer you to finish the catalogue of temptations," saidForester, smiling courteously; "my hours are numbered already, and Imust be back in Dublin within a few days."

  "Beecham will be sorely disappointed; in fact, we came back here to-dayfor no other reason than to meet you at dinner. Daly told us of yourarrival. May we hope to see you at another opportunity? are yourengagements formed for Christmas yet?"

  "I believe so,--Dorsetshire, I think," muttered Forester, with a tonethat plainly indicated a desire to cushion the subject at once; and Mr.O'Reilly, with a ready tact, accepted the hint, and, wishing him a mostcordial goodnight, departed.