The Absentee (26 page)

Lord Colambre encouraged her to go on.

'"Where's your gown and cloak, Grace!" says I.—"Gone," says she. "The
cloak was too warm and heavy, and I don't doubt, mother, but it was that
helped to make me faint this morning. And as to the gown, sure I've a
very nice one here, that you spun for me yourself, mother; and that I
prize above all the gowns ever came out of a loom; and that Brian said
become me to his fancy above any gown ever he see me wear; and what
could I wish for more?" Now I'd a mind to scold her for going to sell
the gown unknown'st to me, but I don't know how it was, I couldn't scold
her just then, so kissed her, and Brian the same, and that was what no
man ever did before. And she had a mind to be angry with him, but could
not, nor ought not, says I; "for he's as good as your husband now,
Grace; and no man can part yees now," says I, putting their hands
together. Well, I never saw her look so pretty; nor there was not a
happier boy that minute on God's earth than my son, nor a happier mother
than myself; and I thanked God that had given them to me; and down they
both fell on their knees for my blessing, little worth as it was; and
my heart's blessing they had, and I laid my hands upon them. "It's the
priest you must get to do this for you to-morrow," says I. And Brian
just held up the ring, to show me all was ready on his part, but could
not speak. "Then there's no America any more!" said Grace low to me, and
her heart was on her lips; but the colour came and went, and I was a
FEARED she'd have swooned again, but not for sorrow so I carried her
off Well, if she was not my own—but she is not my own born so I may
say it—there never was a better girl, nor a more kind-hearted, nor
generous; never thinking anything she could do, or give, too much for
them she loved, and anything at all would do for herself; the sweetest
natured and tempered both, and always was, from this high; the bond that
held all together, and joy of the house.'

'Just like her namesake,' cried Lord Colambre.

'Plase your honour?'

'Is not it late?' said Lord Colambre, stretching himself and gaping;
'I've walked a great way to-day.'

The old woman lighted his rushlight, showed him to his red check bed,
and wished him a very good night; not without some slight sentiment of
displeasure at his gaping thus at the panegyric on her darling Grace.
Before she left the room, however, her short-lived resentment vanished,
upon his saying that he hoped, with her permission, to be present at the
wedding of the young couple.

Early in the morning Brian went to the priest, to ask his reverence when
it would be convenient to marry him; and, whilst he was gone, Mr. Dennis
Garraghty came to the cottage, to receive the rent and possession. The
rent was ready, in gold, and counted into his hand.

'No occasion for a receipt; for a new LASE is a receipt in full for
everything.'

'Very well, sir, said the widow; 'I know nothing of law. You know
best—whatever you direct—for you are acting as a friend to us now. My
son got the attorney to draw the pair of new LASES yesterday, and here
they are ready, all to signing.'

Mr. Dennis said his brother must settle that part of the business,
and that they must carry them up to the castle; 'but first give me the
possession.'

Then, as he instructed her, she gave up the key of the door to him, and
a bit of the thatch of the house; and he raked out the fire, and said
every living creature must go out. 'It's only form of law,' said he.

'And must my lodger get up and turn out, sir?' said she. 'He must turn
out, to be sure—not a living soul must be left in it, or it's no legal
possession properly. Who is your lodger?'

On Lord Colambre's appearing, Mr. Dennis showed some surprise, and said,
'I thought you were lodging at Brannagan's; are not you the man who
spoke to me at his house about the gold mines?'

'No, sir, he never lodged at Brannagan's,' said the widow.

'Yes, sir, I am the person who spoke to you about the gold mines at
Brannagan's; but I did not like to lodge—'

'Well, no matter where you liked to lodge; you must walk out of this
lodging now, if you please, my good friend.'

So Mr. Dennis pushed his lordship out by the shoulders, repeating, as
the widow turned back and looked with some surprise and alarm, 'Only for
form sake, only for form sake!' then locking the door, took the key, and
put it into his pocket. The widow held out her hand for it: 'The form's
gone through now, sir, is not it? Be plased to let us in again.'

'When the new lease is signed, I'll give you possession again; but not
till then—for that's the law. So make away with you to the castle; and
mind,' added he, winking slily, 'mind you take sealing-money with you,
and something to buy gloves.'

'Oh, where will I find all that?' said the widow.

'I have it, mother; don't fret,' said Grace. 'I have it—the price
of—what I can want.
(What I can do without.)
So let us go off to the
castle without delay. Brian will meet us on the road, you know.'

They set off for Clonbrony Castle, Lord Colambre accompanying them.
Brian met them on the road. 'Father Tom is ready, dear mother; bring her
in, and he'll marry us. I'm not my own man till she's mine. Who knows
what may happen?'

'Who knows? that's true,' said the widow.

'Better go to the castle first,' said Grace.

'And keep the priest waiting! You can't use his reverence so.' said
Brian.

So she let him lead her into the priest's house, and she did not make
any of the awkward draggings back, or ridiculous scenes of grimace
sometimes exhibited on these occasions; but blushing rosy red, yet
with more self-possession than could have been expected from her timid
nature, she gave her hand to the man she loved, and listened with
attentive devotion to the holy ceremony.

'Ah!' thought Lord Colambre, whilst he congratulated the bride, 'shall I
ever be as happy as these poor people are at this moment?' He longed to
make them some little present, but all he could venture at this moment
was to pay the priest's DUES.

The priest positively refused to take anything. 'They are the best
couple in my parish,' said he; 'and I'll take nothing, sir, from you, a
stranger and my guest.'

'Now, come what will, I'm a match for it. No trouble can touch me,' said
Brian.

'Oh, don't be bragging,' said the widow.

'Whatever trouble God sends, He has given one now will help to bear it,
and sure I may be thankful,' said Grace.

'Such good hearts must be happy—shall be happy!' said Lord Colambre.

'Oh, you're very kind,' said the widow, smiling; 'and I wouldn't
doubt you, if you had the power. I hope, then, the agent will give you
encouragement about them mines, that we may keep you among us.'

'I am determined to settle among you, warm-hearted, generous people!'
cried Lord Colambre, 'whether the agent gives me encouragement or not,'
added he.

It was a long walk to Clonbrony Castle; the old woman, as she said
herself, would not have been able for it, but for a LIFT given to her
by a friendly carman, whom they met on the road with an empty car. This
carman was Finnucan, who dissipated Lord Colambre's fears of meeting and
being recognised by Mrs. Raffarty; for he, in answer to the question
of, 'Who is at the castle?' replied, 'Mrs. Raffarty will be in it afore
night; but she's on the road still. There's none but old Nick in it yet;
and he's more of a NEGER than ever; for think, that he would not pay me
a farthing for the carriage of his SHISTER'S boxes and bandboxes down.
If you're going to have any dealings with him, God grant ye a safe
deliverance!'

'Amen!' said the widow, and her son and daughter.

Lord Colambre's attention was now engaged by the view of the castle and
park of Clonbrony. He had not seen it since he was six years old. Some
faint reminiscence from his childhood made him feel or fancy that he
knew the place. It was a fine castle, spacious park; but all about it,
from the broken piers at the great entrance, to the messy gravel and
loose steps at the hall-door, had an air of desertion and melancholy.
Walks overgrown, shrubberies wild, plantations run up into bare poles;
fine trees cut down, and lying on the gravel in lots to be sold. A hill
that had been covered with an oak wood, in which, in his childhood,
our hero used to play, and which he called the black forest, was gone;
nothing to be seen but the white stumps of the trees, for it had been
freshly cut down, to make up the last remittances.—'And how it went,
when sold!—but no matter,' said Finnucan; 'it's all alike.—It's the
back way into the yard, I'll take you, I suppose.'

And such a yard! 'But it's no matter,' repeated Lord Colambre to
himself; 'it's all alike.'

In the kitchen a great dinner was dressing for Mr. Garraghty's friends,
who were to make merry with him when the business of the day was over.

'Where's the keys of the cellar, till I get out the claret for after
dinner,' says one; 'and the wine for the cook—sure there's venison,'
cries another.—'Venison!—That's the way my lord's deer goes,' says a
third, laughing.—'ay, sure! and very proper, when he's not here to eat
'em.'—'Keep your nose out of the kitchen, young man, if you PLASE,'
said the agent's cook, shutting the door in Lord Colambre's face.
'There's the way to the office, if you've money to pay, up the back
stairs.'

'No; up the grand staircase they must—Mr. Garraghty ordered,' said the
footman; 'because the office is damp for him, and it's not there he'll
see anybody to-day; but in my lady's dressing-room.'

So up the grand staircase they went, and through the magnificent
apartments, hung with pictures of great value, spoiling with damp.
'Then, isn't it a pity to see them? There's my lady, and all spoiling,'
said the widow.

Lord Colambre stopped before a portrait of Miss Nugent.—'Shamefully
damaged!' cried he. 'Pass on, or let me pass, if you PLASE,' said one of
the tenants; 'and don't be stopping the doorway.' 'I have business more
nor you with the agent,' said the surveyor; 'where is he?'

'In the PRESENCE-CHAMBER,' replied another; 'where should the viceroy be
but in the PRESENCE-CHAMBER?'

There was a full levee, and fine smell of greatcoats. 'Oh! would you
put your hats on the silk cushions?' said the widow to some men in the
doorway, who were throwing off their greasy hats on a damask sofa.—'Why
not? where else?' 'If the lady was in it, you wouldn't,' said she,
sighing.—'No, to be sure, I wouldn't; great news! would I make no
DIFFER in the presence of old Nick and my lady?' said he, in Irish.
'Have I no sense or manners, good woman, think ye?' added he, as he
shook the ink out of his pen on the Wilton carpet, when he had finished
signing his name to a paper on his knee. 'You may wait long before you
get to the speech of the great man,' said another, who was working his
way through numbers. They continued pushing forward, till they came
within sight of Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, seated in state; and a worse
countenance, or a more perfect picture of an insolent, petty tyrant in
office, Lord Colambre had never beheld.

We forbear all further detail of this levee. 'It's all the same!' as
Lord Colambre repeated to himself, on every fresh instance of roguery or
oppression to which he was witness; and, having completely made up his
mind on the subject, he sat down quietly in the background, waiting
till it should come to the widow's turn to be dealt with, for he was
now interested only to see how she would be treated. The room gradually
thinned; Mr. Dennis Garraghty came in, and sat down at the table, to
help his brother to count the heaps of gold.

'Oh, Mr. Dennis, I'm glad to see you as kind as your promise, meeting me
here,' said the widow O'Neill, walking up to him; 'I'm sure you'll speak
a good word for me; here's the LASES—who will I offer this to?' said
she, holding the GLOVE-MONEY and SEALING-MONEY,—'for I'm strange and
ashamed.'

'Oh, don't be ashamed—there's no strangeness in bringing money or
taking it,' said Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, holding out his hand. 'Is this
the proper compliment?'

'I hope so, sir; your honour knows best.'

'Very well,' slipping it into his private purse. 'Now, what's your
business?'

'The LASES to sign—the rent's all paid up.'

'Leases! Why, woman, is the possession given up?'

'It was, PLASE your honour; and Mr. Dennis has the key of our little
place in his pocket.'

'Then I hope he'll keep it there. YOUR little place—it's no longer
yours; I've promised it to the surveyor. You don't think I'm such a fool
as to renew to you at this rent.'

'Mr. Dennis named the rent. But anything your honour PLASES—anything at
all that we can pay.'

'Oh, it's out of the question—put it out of your head. No rent you can
offer would do, for I've promised it to the surveyor.'

'Sir, Mr. Dennis knows my lord gave us his promise in writing of a
renewal, on the back of the OULD LASE.'

'Produce it.'

'Here's the LASE, but the promise is rubbed out.'

'Nonsense! coming to me with a promise that's rubbed out. Who'll listen
to that in a court of justice, do you think?'

'I don't know, plase your honour; but this I'm sure of, my lord and Miss
Nugent, though but a child at the time, God bless her! who was by when
my lord wrote it with his pencil, will remember it.'

'Miss Nugent! what can she know of business?—What has she to do with
the management of my Lord Clonbrony's estate, pray?'

'Management!—no, sir.'

'Do you wish to get Miss Nugent turned out of the house?'

'Oh, God forbid!—how could that be?'

'Very easily; if you set about to make her meddle and witness in what my
lord does not choose.'

'Well then, I'll never mention Miss Nugent's name in it at all, if it
was ever so with me. But be PLASED, sir, to write over to my lord, and
ask him; I'm sure he'll remember it.'