CHAPTER XXV. COUNTRY AUCTION
With feelings akin to those with which the populace of a revolted cityinvade the once sacred edifice of the deposed Prince, the whole town andneighborhood of Oughterard now poured into the demesne of Cro' Martin,wandered through the grounds, explored the gardens, and filled thehouse. An immense advertisement in the local papers had announced ageneral sale of horses and carriages, farming stock, and agriculturalimplements; cattle of choice breeding, sheep of fabulous facilitiesfor fat, and cows of every imaginable productiveness, were there, withdraft-horses like dwarf elephants, and bulls that would have puzzled amatador.
The haughty state in which the Martins habitually lived, the widedistance by which they separated themselves from the neighborhoodaround, had imparted to Cro' Martin a kind of dreamy splendor in thecountry, exalting even its well-merited claims to admiration. Some hadseen the grounds, a few had by rare accident visited the gardens, butthe house and the stables were still unexplored territories, of whosemagnificence each spoke without a fear of contradiction.
Country neighborhoods are rarely rich in events, and of these, few canrival a great auction. It is not alone in the interests of barter andgain thus suggested, but in the thousand new channels for thought thussuddenly opened,--the altered fortunes of him whose effects have cometo the hammer; his death, or his banishment,--both so much alike.The visitor wanders amidst objects which have occupied years incollection,--some the results of considerable research and difficulty,some the long-coveted acquisitions of half a lifetime, and some--we haveknown such--the fond gifts of friendship. There they are now side byside in the catalogue, their private histories no more suspected thanthose of them who lie grass-covered in the churchyard. You admire thathighly bred hunter in all the beauty of his symmetry and his strength,but you never think of the "little Shelty" in the next stable withshaggy mane and flowing tail; and yet it was on _him_ the young heirused to ride; _he_ was the cherished animal of all the stud, led inbeside the breakfast-table to be caressed and petted, fed with sugarfrom fair fingers, and patted by hands a Prince might have knelt tokiss! His rider now sleeps beneath the marble slab in the old aisle, andthey who once brightened in smiles at the sound of his tiny trot wouldburst into tears did they behold that pony!
So, amidst the triumphs of color and design that grace the walls, youhave no eyes for a little sketch in water-color,--a mill, a shealingbeside a glassy brook, a few trees, and a moss-clad rock; and yet thatlittle drawing reveals a sad story. It is all that remains of her whowent abroad to die. You throw yourself in listless lassitude upon acouch; it was the work of one who beguiled over it the last hours of abroken heart! You turn your steps to the conservatory, but never noticethe little flower-garden, whose narrow walks, designed for tiny feet,need not the little spade to tell of the child-gardener who tilled it.
Ay, this selling-off is a sad process! It bespeaks the disruption of ahome; the scattering of those who once sat around the same hearth, withall the dear familiar things about them!
It was a bright spring morning--one of those breezy, cloud-flittingdays, with flashes of gay sunlight alternating with broad shadows, andgiving in the tamest landscape every effect the painter's art couldsummon--that a long procession, consisting of all imaginable vehicles,with many on horseback intermixed, wound their way beneath the grandentrance and through the park of Cro' Martin. Such an opportunity ofgratifying long pent-up curiosity had never before offered; since, evenwhen death itself visited the mansion, the habits of exclusion were notrelaxed, but the Martins went to their graves in the solemn state oftheir households alone, and were buried in a little chapel within thegrounds, the faint tolling of the bell alone announcing to the worldwithout that one of a proud house had departed.
The pace of the carriages was slow as they moved along, their occupantspreferring to linger in a scene from which they had been hithertoexcluded, struck by the unexpected beauty of the spot, and wondering atall the devices by which it was adorned. A few--a very few--had seen theplace in boyhood, and were puzzling themselves to recall this and thatmemory; but all agreed in pronouncing that the demesne was far finer,the timber better grown, and the fields more highly cultivated thananything they had ever before seen.
"I call this the finest place in Ireland, Dan!" said Captain Bodkin, ashe rode beside Nelligan's car, halting every now and then to look aroundhim. "There's everything can make a demesne beautiful,--wood, water, andmountain!"
"And, better than all, a fine system of farming," broke in Nelligan."That's the best field of 'swedes' I ever beheld!"
"And to think that a man would leave this to go live abroad in a dirtytown in France!" exclaimed Mrs. Clinch, from the opposite side of thecar. "That's perverseness indeed!"
"Them there is all Swiss cows!" said Mr. Clinch, in an humble tone.
"Not one of them, Clinch! they're Alderneys. The Swiss farm, as theycall it, is all on the other side, with the ornamented cottage."
"Dear! dear! there was no end to their waste and extravagance!" mutteredMrs. Nelligan.
"Wait till you see the house, ma'am, and you 'll say so, indeed," saidthe Captain.
"I don't think we 're likely!" observed Nelligan, dryly.
"Why so?"
"Just that Scanlan told Father Mather the auction would be held in thestables; for as there was none of the furniture to be sold, the housewould n't be opened."
"That's a great disappointment!" exclaimed Bodkin. A sentiment fullyconcurred in by the ladies, who both declared that they'd never have,come so far only to look at pigs and "shorthorns."
"Maybe we 'll get a peep at the gardens," said Bodkin, endeavoring toconsole them.
"And the sow!" broke in Peter Hayes, who had joined the party some timebefore. "They tell me she's a beauty. She's Lord Somebody's breed, andbeats the world for fat!"
"Here's Scanlan now, and he 'll tell us everything," said Bodkin.But the sporting attorney, mounted on a splendid little horse, in topcondition, passed them at speed, the few words he uttered being lost ashe dashed by.
"What was it he said?" cried Bodkin.
"I didn't catch the words," replied Nelligan; "and I suppose it was nogreat loss."
"He's an impudent upstart!" exclaimed Mrs. Clinch.
"I think he said something about a breakfast," meekly interposed Mr.Clinch.
"And of course he said nothing of the kind," retorted his spouse. "Younever happened to be right in your life!"
"Faix! I made sure of mine before I started," said old Hayes, "I ate acowld goose!"
"Well, to be sure, they could n't be expected to entertain all that'scoming!" said Mrs. Nelligan, who now began a mental calculation of thenumbers on the road.
"There will be a thousand people here to-day," said Bodkin.
"Five times that," said Nelligan. "I know it by the number of smallbills that I gave cash for the last week. There's not a farmer in thecounty does n't expect to bring back with him a prize beast of one kindor other."
"I'll buy that sow if she goes 'reasonable,'" said Peter Hayes, whosewhole thoughts seemed centred on the animal in question.
"What do they mean to do when they sell off the stock?" asked theCaptain.
"I hear that the place will be let," said Nelligan, in a half whisper,"if they can find a tenant for it. Henderson told Father Mather that,come what might, her Ladyship would never come back here."
"Faix! the only one of them worth a groat was Miss Mary, and I supposethey did n't leave her the means to do much now."
"'Tis she must have the heavy heart to-day," sighed Mrs. Nelligan.
"And it is only fair and reasonable she should have her share oftroubles, like the rest of us," replied Mrs. Clinch. "When Clinch wasremoved from Macroon, we had to sell off every stick and stone we had;and as the neighbors knew we must go, we didn't get five shillings inthe pound by the sale."
"That's mighty grand,--that is really a fine place!" exclaimed Bodkin,as by a sudden turn of the road they came directly in front of thehou
se; and the whole party sat in silent admiration of the magnificentedifice before them.
"It is a royal palace,--no less," said Nelligan, at last; "and that'sexactly what no country gentleman wants. Sure we know well there's nofortune equal to such a residence. To keep up that house, as it ought tobe, a man should have thirty thousand a year."
"Give me fifteen, Dan, and you'll see if I don't make it comfortable,",said Bodkin.
"What's this barrier here,--can't we go any further?" exclaimedNelligan, as he perceived a strong paling across the avenue.
"We 're to go round by the stables, it seems," said Bodkin; "the hallentrance is not to be invaded by such vulgar visitors. This is our road,here."
"Well, if I ever!" exclaimed Mrs. Clinch, whose feelings reallyoverpowered utterance.
"I don't see any great hardship in this after all, ma'am," saidNelligan; "for we know if the family were at home we couldn't even behere. Drive on, Tim."
A short circuit through a very thickly wooded tract brought them atlength to a large and massive gateway, over which the Martins' armswere sculptured in stone; passing through which they entered a greatcourtyard, three sides of which were occupied by stables, the fourthpresenting a range of coach-houses filled with carriages of everydescription.
A large tent was erected in the midst of the court for the convenienceof the sale, in front of which were pens for the cattle, and a spacerailed off, wherein the horses were to be viewed and examined.
"This is all mighty well arranged," said Bodkin, as he gave his horse toa groom, who, in the undress livery of Cro' Martin, came respectfully tohis aid as he got down.
"The sale will begin in about an hour, sir," said the man, in answerto a question. "Mr. Scanlan is now in the house with Mr. Gibbs, theauctioneer."
Vast crowds of people of every class, from the small squire to theOughterard shopkeeper and country farmer, now came pouring in, all eagerin their curiosity, but somehow all subdued into a kind of reverence fora spot from which they had been so rigidly excluded, and the very aspectof which so far transcended expectations. Everything, indeed, was anobject of wonderment. The ornamental tanks for watering the horses,supplied by beautifully designed fountains; the sculptured medallionsalong the walls, emblematizing the chase or the road; the brightmahogany partitions of the stalls, even to the little channels linedwith shining copper, all demanded notice and comment; and many were thewise reflections uttered with regard to those who thus squandered awaytheir wealth. The sight of the cattle, however, which occupied thisluxurious abode, went far to disarm this criticism, since certainly noneever seemed more worthy of the state and splendor that surrounded them.For these the admiration was hearty and sincere, and the farmers wentalong the stalls amazed and wonderstruck at the size and symmetry of thenoble animals that filled them.
"To be sold at Tattersall's, sir, on the 4th of next month," said agroom, whose English accent imparted an almost sneer to the suppositionthat such a stud should meet purchasers in Ireland. "They 're alladvertised in 'Bell's Life.'"
"What becomes of the hounds?" asked Bodkin.
"Lord Cromore takes them, sir; they're to hunt in Dorsetshire."
"And the sow?" asked old Hayes, with eagerness; "she isn't to go toEngland, is she?"
"Can't say, sir. We don't look arter no sows here," replied the fellow,as he turned away in evident disgust at his questioner.
A certain stir and bustle in the court without gave token that the salewas about to begin; and Scanlan's voice, in its most authoritative tone,was heard issuing orders and directions on all sides, while servantswent hither and thither distributing catalogues, and securingaccommodation for the visitors with a degree of deference and attentionmost remarkable.
"I suppose we're to pass the day in the stables or the cowhouses,ma'am?" said Mrs. Clinch, as with a look of indignation she gazed at therange of seats now being hastily occupied by a miscellaneous company.
"If we could only get into the gardens," said Mrs. Nelligan, timidly."I'm sure if I saw Barnes he'd let us in." And she slipped rapidly fromher friend's arm, and hastily crossing the court, went in search of heronly acquaintance in the household. "Did you see Barnes? Where could Ifind Barnes?" asked she of almost every one she met. And following thecomplicated directions she received, she wandered onward, through akitchen-garden, and into a small nursery beyond it. Bewildered as shereceded beyond the sounds of the multitude, she turned into a littlepath which, traversing a shrubbery, opened upon a beautifully cultivated"parterre," whose close-shaven sward and flowery beds flanked a longrange of windows opening to the ground, and which, to her no smallhorror, she perceived to form one wing of the mansion. While in herdistraction to think what course was best to take, she saw a groomstanding at the head of a small pony, harnessed to a diminutivecarriage, and hastily approached him. Before, however, she had attainedwithin speaking distance, the man motioned to her, by a gesture, toretire. Her embarrassment gave her, if not courage, something ofresolution, and she advanced.
"Go back!" cried he, in a smothered voice; "there 's no one admittedhere."
"But I 've lost my way. I was looking for Barnes--"
"He's not here. Go back, I say," reiterated the man, in the samestealthy voice.
But poor Mrs. Nelligan, came on, confusion rendering her indifferentto all reproof, and in spite of gestures and admonitions to retire,steadily advanced towards the door. As she passed one of the openwindows, her glance caught something within; she stopped suddenly,and, in seeming shame at her intrusion, turned to go back. A mutteredmalediction from the servant increased her terror, and she uttered afaint cry. In an instant the object at which she had been gazing arose,and Mary Martin, her face traced with recent tears, started up andapproached her. Mrs. Nelligan felt a sense of sickly faintness come overher, and had to grasp the window for support.
"Oh, my dear young lady!" she muttered, "I did n't mean to do this--Istrayed here by accident--I didn't know where I was going--"
"My dear Mrs. Nelligan, there is no need of these excuses," said Mary,taking her hand cordially, and leading her to a seat. "It is a greatpleasure to me to see a friendly face, and I am grateful for the chancethat sent you here."
Mrs. Nelligan, once relieved of her first embarrassment, poured forthwith volubility the explanation of her presence; and Mary heard her tothe end with patient politeness.
"And you were going away somewhere," resumed she, "when I stopped you.I see your pony-chaise there at the door waiting for you, and you're offto the quarries or Kilkieran, I 'll be bound; or maybe it's only goingaway you are, to be out of this for a day or two. God knows, I don'twonder at it! It is a trying scene for you, and a great shock to yourfeelings, to see the place dismantled, and everything sold off!"
"It is sad enough," said Mary, smiling through her tears.
"Not to say that you're left here all alone, just as if you were n't oneof the family at all; that 's what I think most of. And where were yougoing, dear?"
"I was going to pass a few days at the cottage,--the Swiss cottage.Catty Broon, my old nurse, has gone over there to get it in readinessfor me, and I shall probably stay there till all this confusion beover."
"To be sure, dear. What's more natural than that you'd like to spareyour feelings, seeing all carried away just as if it was bankrupts youwere. Indeed, Dan said to me the things wouldn't bring more than at asheriff's sale, because of the hurry you were in to sell them off."
"My uncle's orders were positive on that subject," said Mary, calmly.
"Yes, dear, of course he knows best," said she, with a shake of the headnot exactly corroborating her own speech. "And how are you to live hereby yourself, dear?" resumed she; "sure you 'll die of the loneliness!"
"I don't think so: I shall have plenty to occupy me,--more, indeed, thanI shall be equal to."
"Ay, in the daytime; but the long evenings--think of the long evenings,dear! God knows, I find them very often dreary enough, even though Ihave a home and Dan."
"I 'm not a
fraid of the long evenings, my dear Mrs. Nelligan. It is theonly time I can spare for reading; they will be my hours of recreationand amusement."
"Well, well, I hope so, with all my heart," said she, doubtingly. "Youknow yourself best, and maybe you'd be happier that way, than if you hadsomebody to talk to and keep you company."
"I didn't say that," said Mary, smiling. "I never implied that a visitfrom some kind friend--Mrs. Nelligan, for instance--would not be a verypleasant event in my solitude."
"To come and see you,--to come to Cro' Martin!" exclaimed Mrs. Nelligan,as though trying to reconcile her mind to the bare possibility of such acircumstance.
"If you would not think it too far, or too much trouble--"
"Oh dear, oh dear, but it's too much honor it would be; and Dan--nomatter what he 'd say to the contrary--would feel it so, in his ownheart. Sure I know well how he felt about Joe being asked here todinner; and he 'd never have taken a part against your uncle in theelection if it was n't that he thought Joe was slighted some way--"
"But nothing of the kind ever occurred. Mr..Joseph Nelligan met from usall the respect that his character and his talents entitled him to."
"Don't get warm about it, or I 'll forget everything that's in my head!"exclaimed Mrs. Nelligan, in terror at the eagerness of Mary's manner."Maybe it was Joe's fault--maybe it was young Massingbred's--maybe itwas--"
"But what was it?" cried Mary. "What was alleged? What was laid to ourcharge?"
"There, now, I don't remember anything; you frightened me so that it'sgone clean out of my mind."
"My dear friend," said Mary, caressingly, "I never meant to alarm you;and let us talk of something else. You say that you 'll come to see mesometimes; is it a promise?"
"Indeed it is, my dear, whenever Dan gives me the car and horse--"
"But I 'll drive in for you, and bring you safely back again. You 'veonly to say when you 'll spend the day with me; and there's so much toshow you here that you 'd like to see. The gardens are really handsome,and the hothouses. And Catty will show us her dairy, and I am very proudof my lambs."
"It is all like a dream to me,--just like a dream," said Mrs. Nelligan,closing her eyes, and folding her arms, "to think that I 'm sittinghere, at Cro' Martin, talking to Miss Mary just as if I were her equal."
"My dear, dear friend, it shall be a reality whenever you like to makeit so; and you'll tell me all the news of Oughterard,--all about everyone there; for I know them, at least by name, and will be charmed tohear about them."
"Mr. Scanlan wants an answer, miss, immediately," said a servant,presenting Mary with a few lines written in pencil.
She opened the paper and read the following: "Nelligan offers seventypounds for the two black horses. Is he to have them? Sir Peter shows anincipient spavin on the off leg, and I think he 'd be well sold."
"Tell Mr. Scanlan I 'll send him an answer by and by," said she,dismissing the servant. Then ringing the bell, she whispered a few wordsto the man who answered it. "I have just sent a message to tell Mr.Nelligan I wish to speak to him," said she, resuming her place onthe sofa. "It is a mere business matter," added she, seeing that Mrs.Nelligan waited for some explanation. "And now, when have you heardfrom your son? Is he learning to spare himself anything of those greatefforts he imposes upon his faculties?"
This was to touch the most sensitive chord in all her heart; and so sheburst forth into a description of Joseph's daily life of toil andstudy; his labors, his self-denial, his solitary, joyless existence, allcalling up, in turn, her praises and her sympathy.
"And I," cried she, "am always saying, what is it all for?--what's theuse of it?--who is to be the better of it? Sure there 's only himself toget whatever his father leaves behind him; and a pretty penny it is!Not that _you_ would think so; but for the like of _us_, and in _our_station, it's a snug fortune. He 'll have upwards of two thousand ayear, so that there 's no need to be slaving like a Turk."
"Your son's ambitions take, very probably, a higher range than meremoney-making," said Mary. "He has a good right to suppose that hisabilities may win him the highest of rewards! But here's Mr. Nelligan."And she advanced courteously to meet him at the door.
Flushed and heated by the scene he had just quitted, and evidentlyembarrassed by the situation in which he stood, Nelligan bowedrepeatedly in reply to Miss Martin's greeting, starting with amazementas he perceived Mrs. Nelligan, who maintained an air of unbroken dignityon the sofa.
"Well you may stare, Dan!" said she. "I 'm sure you never expected tosee me here!"
"It was a most agreeable surprise for _me_, at least," said Mary,motioning to a seat; then, turning to Nelligan, added, "This little notewas the occasion of my asking you to step over here. Will you please toread it?"
"How handsome, how candid, Miss Martin!" said Nelligan, as he restoredit, after perusing it. "Ah, my dear young lady, why would n't yourfamily deal always with us in this fashion and in everything? I begyour forgiveness, but I forgot myself. I 'll stick to my offer, miss,--Iwouldn't take fifty pounds for my bargain!"
"This, of course, is in confidence between us, sir," said Mary, as shetore up the note and threw the fragments on the ground.
368]
"I wish I knew how to acknowledge this, Miss Martin; I wish I couldshow how sensible one in _my_ station could be of generosity from one in_yours_."
"You remind me very opportunely that I have a favor to ask, Mr.Nelligan. It is this: My kind friend here, Mrs. Nelligan, has justpromised to take pity on my solitude, and occasionally to come and seeme. Will you kindly strengthen her in this benevolent intention, and aidher to turn her steps very often towards Cro' Martin?"
Nelligan's face grew deeply red, and an expression of the greatestembarrassment settled down on his features; and it was with muchdifficulty, and in a voice laboring for utterance, that he said,--
"I don't see how this can be. Your friends would not approve,--yourfamily, I mean, Miss Martin,--would, very naturally, resent the thoughtof such an intimacy! They look upon _me_ as an enemy,--an open anddeclared enemy,--and so I am, where politics is concerned; but--" Hehesitated, and after a struggle went on: "No matter, it _is_ war betweenus, and must be till one crushes the other. What I mean is this, younglady: that to encourage such acquaintanceship as you speak of would looklike an undue condescension on _your_ part, or something even worse on_ours_."
"I 'll not listen to such subtleties!" cried Mary, hastily. "Neither younor I, my dear Mrs. Nelligan, care for party triumphs or defeats. Thereare a thousand themes wherein our hearts can feel alike; and these we'll discuss together. We're of the same country; have passed our livesamidst the same scenes, the same events, and the same people, and itwill be hard if we cannot as easily discover topics for mutual esteem,as subjects of difference and disagreement."
"But will it not be hinted, Miss Martin, that we took the opportunityof your solitude here to impose an acquaintanceship which had beenimpossible under other circumstances?"
"If you are too proud, sir, to know me,--lest an ungenerous sneer shoulddamage your self-esteem--"
"Indeed, indeed we're not," broke in Mrs. Nelligan. "You don't know Danat all. He would n't exchange the honor of sitting there, opposite you,to be High Sheriff."
A servant fortunately presented himself at this awkward moment with awhispered message for Miss Martin; to which she replied aloud,--
"Of course. Tell Mr. Scanlan it is my wish,--_my_ orders," added she,more firmly. "The house is open to any one who desires to see it. Andnow, before I go, Mr. Nelligan, tell me that I have convinced you,--tellme that my reasons have prevailed, and that you acknowledge we ought tobe friends." And as she said the last words, she held out her hand tohim with a grace so perfect, and an air of such winning fascination,that old Nelligan could only stammer out,--
"It shall be how you please. I never bargained to dispute against suchodds as this. We are, indeed, your friends; dispose of us how you like."And, so saying, he conducted her to the little carriage, and, assisti
ngher to her seat, took his leave with all the respect he could have showna queen.
"It's more than a prejudice, after all," muttered he, as he looked afterher as she drove away. "There's something deeper and stronger in it thanthat, or else a few words spoken by a young girl could n't so suddenlyrout all the sentiments of a lifetime! Ay, ay," added he, still tohimself, "we may pull them down; we may humble them; but we 'll neverfill their places!"
"And we 're to see the house, it seems!" exclaimed Mrs. Nelligan,gathering her shawl around her.
"I don't care to look at it till she herself is here!" said oldNelligan, taking his wife's arm, and leading her away across thelawn, and in the direction of the stables. There was that in his moodypreoccupation which did not encourage her to venture on a word, and soshe went along at his side in silence.
"You're to have the black horses, Mr. Nelligan," said Scanlan,overtaking him. Nelligan nodded. "You 've got a cheap pair of nags, andas good as gold," continued he. A dry half-smile was all the reply. "Mr.Martin bred them himself," Scanlan went on, "and no price would havebought them three weeks ago; but everything is going for a song to-day!I don't know how I 'll muster courage to tell them the results of thesale!"
"You 'll have courage for more than that," said Nelligan. And althoughonly a chance shot, it fell into a magazine; for Scanlan grew crimson,and then pale, and seemed ready to faint.
Nelligan stared with amazement at the effect his few words had produced,and then passed on; while the attorney muttered between his teeth, "Canhe suspect me? Is it possible that I have betrayed myself?"
No, Maurice Scanlan. Be of good cheer, your secret is safe. No one hasas much as the very barest suspicion that the pettifogging practitioneraspires to the hand of Mary Martin; nor even in the darkest dreams ofthat house's downfall has such a humiliation obtruded itself anywhere!