CHAPTER XVI.
PADDY WHEEL-ABOUT'S OLD COAT.
It was a moonlit evening in the County Donegal, and there was a broadbar of silver shining in burnished splendor across the beautiful LakeCoulin. Two boys were standing on the edge of the lake. Aprettily-trimmed little boat was lying at their feet. One, the taller ofthe two, was standing with his hand up to his ear, listening intently.
"Ah, then, Pat, can't you stop that shuffling?" he cried to his youngercompanion. "I can't listen if you keep whistling and moving your feet.It is about time for Daneen to appear. Kitty is sure to send the tinos,dear old girl. Father takes care to keep her well supplied."
"There, I hear Dan's horn; he is coming through the Gap," cried Pat, hisface lighting up. "Stay there, Laurie, and I'll run to meet him. He'lljust be at the other side of Haggart's Glen when I get up."
The younger boy put wings to his feet, and the next moment was out ofsight. The older boy, thrusting both his hands deep into his pockets,stood staring straight before him into the silver light caused by a fullmoon. The white radiance lit up his young person, his pronouncedfeatures, and handsome face. There were gloomy depths in his big blackeyes, although the slightest movement, the faintest play of expressionwould cause them to dance with vitality and fun; the petulantexpression, round lips, curved and cut with the delicacy of a cameo, wasvery manifest. The lad was built in almost Herculean mould, so broadwere his shoulders, so upright and tall his young figure. With his headthrown back, the listening attitude on his face, his black hair sweptfrom his forehead, he looked almost like a young god--all was _verve_,expectancy, eagerness in his attitude.
"If only Kitty is true it will be all right," he muttered. "Ah, then,what a fool I was when I allowed the other fellows to tempt me to playthat practical joke on old Wheel-about. I don't think the governor mindsanything else; but he cannot stand our making fun of that poor, old,half-witted chap. Never again will I do such a thing. I would not havefather know this matter for all the world. Hullo! there comes Pat. Iwonder if he has got my letter."
"Nothing, nothing, and worse than nothing," sang out Pat, extending twoempty hands as he approached.
"No letter for me?" cried Laurie. He stepped out of the light, andstriding up to his brother, laid one of his big hands on the boy'sslighter shoulder. "No letter? But did you really meet Daneen?"
"Of course I did. Don't grip me so hard, old chap. He had only oneletter in his pocket, and that was for Aunt Honora, two newspapers forfather, and a heap of circulars--nothing else whatever."
"But are you certain sure? Surely Kitty would not fail a gossoon when hewas in trouble."
"I tell you, Laurie, there was nothing from her, nor from any one,except that one letter for Aunt Honora; but perhaps you'll hear in themorning."
Laurie made no reply; his hands dropped to his sides. The next moment hedived into his trousers pocket and extracted a few coins.
"Have we enough for a telegram, I wonder?" he said. "Ah, to besure--why, we can send one now for sixpence. And I have tenpence here.I'll wire at once. I say, Pat, we must go to the nearest post office,and to-night. We will start now; do you mind? We can row across theCoulin, and anchor the boat at the opposite side, and then it is onlyeight miles across the mountains to Ballyshannon."
"But James Dunovan will have shut up the office," exclaimed Pat; "and ifwe are absent from supper what will father say?"
"Old Jim knows us; he'll open fast enough when he hears that we two ladshave come on business."
"But they can't send the telegram after the office is shut."
"Don't make difficulties, Pat. I tell you this is a serious business.You don't want to be banished from the country do you? We'll goto the post office at once, and see that the message is sent to Kittythe very first thing in the morning. Come, what are young lingeringfor?"
"Supper is waiting, and Aunt Bridget will make a fuss. You know we arenot allowed to be out after ten at night."
"Bother!" cried Laurie. "Well, then, we must go home first. What anuisance. We'll have a bite, and then slink out. The dad can think wehave gone to bed. Why, Pat, old boy, I met Wheel-about to-day, and hewas like a mad man. He told me he had collected all that money for hisfuneral. What apes we were to touch the coat!"
"Sure, it's unlike Kitty not to write," said Pat. "She is the last inthe world to leave a fellow in the lurch."
"Don't I know that? Who's fault it is it isn't hers, poor old girl.Something has happened to the letter. Now, Pat, let us get supper over,for we have no time to lose."
As Laurie spoke he fastened the little boat securely by a rope to astone near by, and then the lads turned their backs upon thesilver-burnished lake, and strode into the darkness of a narrow mountaindefile. The path was steep, and they had to scramble up, doing so withthe agility of young ponies.
"It is the thought of Wheel-about that bothers me entirely," saidLaurie, after a pause. "I don't want to have it lying on my soul--uponmy honor I don't--that I turned the poor old chap's brain stillcrazier."
"Oh, the money will come along before Saturday," said Pat; "and you knowyou told him he must wait until Saturday. Don't you worry, Laurie. Comeon, I tell ye; there's the gong sounding at the Castle."
The deep notes of a very sonorous old gong were distinctly borne on thebreeze; the boys ran, hurrying and panting. A few moments later they hadclimbed an almost inaccessible rock, had tumbled over each other up alawn, and entered a huge hall, where supper was spread. Squire Malonewas seated at the head of the table; down both sides were crowdedguests and different retainers--Squire Malone's cousins, all of them,some to the fifth or sixth removed. Miss Honora Malone was at the footof the table, and Miss Bridget presided at the tea tray at one of thesides.
"Sit down, you lads," roared the squire when he saw his sons; "you havebeen keeping us waiting. Now take your places and fall to."
The boys dropped into the seats reserved for them without a word. Theywere hungry, and enjoyed the abundant fare provided. Miss Honora beganto address them with a volley of words.
"Ah, then, boys," she said, "it is ashamed of you I am. Why should youcome in to supper like that, without your hair brushed or your handwashed and looking as rough as a pair of young colts? Look at me, now,how neat I am--I have changed my dress for the evening." As she spokeshe glanced at her thin arms, bare to the elbow, and touched the goldchain that encircled her scraggy throat. "You'll never get Dublinmanners, you two," she continued, "and what will you do when you go intosociety? Ah, it is enough to break the heart to look at ye."
Laurie winked boldly at her; Pat laughed, and helped himself so somepotatoes.
"Dennis," called out the lady, addressing her brother, "don't you agreewith me that it is very bad manners on the part of the boys to come tosupper without so much as washing their hands or brushing their hair?Ought they not to put on evening clothes now that they are almostassuming manhood's estate?"
"Oh, leave 'em alone, Honor," was the reply. "Boys will be boys, andCastle Malone is Liberty Hall. Time enough a few years hence to put onthat high-faluting style. I like 'em as they are: rough diamonds nodoubt, but diamonds all the same."
The old man looked fondly at his sons. He was a picturesque-lookingfigure, with snow-white hair.
"What will you do, lads, when I send you to England to school?" he said.
"England, father?" said Pat, turning pale. "It would kill me to leavethe soil on which I was born. Ah, now, father, I could not live throughit; and as to Laurie, why he would--Laurie, you know what you would do."
"Oh, father's joking," said Laurie, but his face went a little white, andas he drained off a great glass of ice-cold water his hand trembled atrifle.
"It would not be for the making of our happiness, father," he said, justglancing at his father. "Pat is right--it would about kill us both."
"You young beggars, kill you, indeed!" cried the squire. "Well, I havenot made my plans yet. I am thinking of it, and you may as well know it.I have sent the girleen away, and if you
can't stand what she can, why,I don't think you have much grit in you. As to Pat, when he's a littleolder he'll have to prepare for the army."
"Ay, and that's a fine polishing up," said Aunt Bridget, bridling as shespoke, and arranging the set of her very fashionable sleeve. "My jewelof a lad, you'll know what life is like then. You'll think a deal ofyour clothes, and of the sort of thing that will kill the girls then.Why, if you know how to manage, and with my help I dare say I cancontrive it for you, you'll get easily into the very height of Dublinsociety, and be petted, and spoiled, and coaxed no end. I wonder, now,how that girleen is conducting herself. Sometimes, Dennis when I look atyou and think how your heart is wrapped up in her and how she is so tospeak the jewel of your eye and the core of your heart I wonder how youhad the courage to let her go."
"Don't you worry me about it," cried the squire. "I did it for her good.Laurie, where are you off to?"
"I have had about enough supper," answered Laurie. Pat also scrambledto his feet.
"You are as ill-mannered a pair of young cubs as I ever came across,"cried Miss Honora, now really angry. "Why, the syllabub is coming onsoon, and the trifle, and the cream that I whipped myself. Well, Pat,you'll have to mend your manners when you get into the army; and as toyou Laurie, you'll never be as good a squire as your father, try hard asyou may."
A loud laugh at the head of the table interrupted the good lady's flowof words.
"Honora, my woman, you are talking to the air," called out the squire."The boys are out of earshot. Bless 'em can't you let 'em be? They arehearty lads, and I don't think I'll send either of them out of thecountry unless they happen to displease me."
Meanwhile the lads had gone down to the lake, unshipped the little boat,and were by this time half across the Coulin. They soon reached theopposite shore, jumped to land, pulled up the boat, fastened it, andstarted along a long narrow and mountainous path which was the shortestcut to Ballyshannon. They walked so quickly and the hill was so steepthat they had little or no time for words. Nor were they boys who talkedmuch when they were alone. Laurie was given to his own meditations. Patwas always planning some scheme which should circumvent Aunt Honora, wholived with them, and annoy Aunt Bridget, who nearly lived with them,although not quite. Aunt Bridget was the most fashionable member of thefamily; her real home was in Dublin. She was the one who had worked uponthe squire's feelings until he had decided to send Kitty to an Englishschool. Pat was not fond of either of his aunts, but he disliked AuntBridget the most. After an hour-and-a-half's brisk walking they reachedBallyshannon, knocked up the postmaster, who had gone to bed, asked himto let them in, and confided to him what they wanted. He was ahearty-looking Irishman, and was soon as much interested in the telegramwhich Laurie was to send as the boy was himself.
"You have heard what a scrape I have got into?" said Laurie.
"About that poor, mad fellow?" said James Dunovan.
"Yes; some other fellows and I stole his coat away in a fit of frolicthat day when we were out in the crazy boat on the Coulin. A suddenbreeze got up and the boat upset; and the coat--bad luck to it--sank tothe bottom like a stone. We have tried to get it up, but it is all nogo; it has got right into the mud, and not all the boys in Irelandcould move it. If the squire heard we had played a trick on Wheel-abouthe would just do what I don't want him to."
"And what may that be, Master Laurie?"
"Why, Jim, he would banish me to England. You think of that!"
"Ah, to be sure, sir; and it would be a hard punishment entirely, andall for a boy's freak. But how can you circumvent him, sir? that's thepuzzle, for old Wheel-about is as sly a fellow as walks. He knows hispower with the squire--there's a story about, but I have not got therights of it. Anyhow, the squire is always trying to help him. If hecannot get his coat in which he has hidden all his money he will goraving mad about the country, and the squire will soon get at the bottomof the mischief."
"Oh, that's all right," answered Laurie. I saw there was no help for it,and I took Wheel-about into my confidence. He promised if I gave him tenpounds by Saturday next to let the matter of the coat slip by. He saidhe would never tell."
"I wonder now if the craychur is to be trusted," muttered Jim, in athoughtful tone.
"Oh, yes, he is, Jim; don't you meet trouble halfway. If once he getsthe money everything will be as right as possible. But this 'gram mustgo off, and you must see to it for me."
"I'll do that, sir, and welcome, the very moment the office opens itsdoors in the morning."
"How soon do you think it will reach my sister?"
"Well, to be sure, I expect in about half an hour or an hour at themost. I often think I'd like to see them messages a-tumbling along thewires. Do you believe as they go by the wires sir?"
"Oh, I suppose so; I don't bother my head about it. Now, then, Jim, handus a form and we'll fill it in. What do you think we had best say, Pat?"
"Make it strong," said Pat.
"Yes, I know that." Laurie stood biting the end of his pencil andconsidering the blank form which Jimmy had provided him with.
"We must make it powerful strong," he said after a pause. "If dad hearsthis, we two are about done, Pat. He's the easiest old boy in the world,but when once he takes the bit between his teeth he is just like SlieveLoon, our new mare. But I must not keep you up Jim; you are wanting toget back to your bed."
"It don't matter, sir; don't you hurry yourself. I told the wife it wastwo of the young gentlemen from Castle Malone, and she said I wasn't tomind how much time I spent with you; it was only proper respect to thefamily."
"All right Jim. Now, then, Pat, what shall I say?"
"Hurry up," said Pat; "if you're not sleepy I am, and the whole housewill be locked up if we are not quick."
"I cracked a pane of glass in our window on purpose this morning," saidLaurie. "I thought it might turn out convenient."
Pat laughed. Laurie, his face flushed, bent over the telegraph form.After a time, during which beads of perspiration stood out on hisforehead, the following message was transcribed:
"Miss Kitty Malone, care of Mrs. Denvers, Franklin Avenue, Middleton,London, S.E.--Wake up, old girleen; hurry with the tin.--Laurie."
"That's the time of day," he said. "You read it, Jim. Can you make outthe address plain?"
"Yes, to be sure," answered Jim. "Very well, sir; this shall go. I amsorry you're in trouble, sir; but I know the squire sends a lot of moneyto Miss Kitty, for he is always coming here for postal orders."
"Oh, I am safe to have it," said Laurie. "Well, good-night Jim, and longlife to you."
The boys left the office and retraced their steps across the mountain.They had gone about halfway home when they were interrupted by a curioussort of sound, something between a croon and a chant. It came nearer andnearer, and the next moment a grotesque figure showed clearly in themoonlight. This was no other than Paddy Wheel-about himself. He was atall man, with a long shaggy beard, penthouse eyebrows, and eyes whichwere lit now with a fitful and uncertain gleam. He was dressed in rags,his hat was pushed far back on his head, his hair streamed over hisshoulders. The savage and yet pathetic-looking creature stopped nowbefore the two boys.
"I say, Paddy, it is all right," said Laurie, going up to him and layinghis hand on his shoulder. "You'll get the tin I promised eitherto-morrow morning or the day after. I have just sent a telegram to thegirleen in England. Why, Kitty wouldn't let you suffer; no, not if itwere to break her heart."
A wild and yet softened look came into the man's eyes.
"It is because of the girleen I'm fretting," he said. "Listen, you two,I feel fit to die sometimes when I think the coat is lost, and it is allon account of the girleen herself. Why, it was she put in the last patchand a bit of gold was hidden in it; yes, and she sewed it round with herown pretty hands, the darling."
"We'll get back the coat some day, see if we don't," said Laurie. "Andmeanwhile Paddy, you are safe to have your money on Saturday."
"All right if I do," said Paddy; "
if not it is all wrong. I go to SquireMalone. Yes, I go to Squire Malone; but I'll wait until Saturday. Ipromise that much, and I'll keep my word."
"You'll keep your word for Kitty's sake?" said Laurie.
The man nodded; again his eyes softened and changed in expression, thenext moment he had turned on his heel and was out of sight.
"I do believe the only person he cares for in the world is Kitty," saidLaurie. "Do you remember when he was so ill he would only allow Kitty tovisit him? I say, Pat, we must get back that coat somehow; but in themeantime the ten pounds will keep matters quiet."