Roland Cashel, Volume II (of II). Lever Charles James
it will be a sad blow for him,” said Linton, with admirably feigned emotion.
“But it need not, Mr. Linton; the church can tie a knot not even an equity suit can open. Let him marry.”
“Ay, if he will.”
“Tell him he must; tell him what I now tell you, that this girl is the greatest heiress in the land, and that he is a beggar. Plain speaking, Mr. Linton, but time is short Good-bye.”
“One word more. Is the document of such a nature that leaves him no case whatever? Is all the ground cut away beneath his feet?”
“Every inch of it. Once more, good-bye. Here is your parchment; keep it safely. There are few men in this city hold in their hands a paper of such moment.”
“I’ll take good care of it,” said Linton, sententiously; “and so good-bye, and a safe journey to you. I ‘ll not forget our conversation of this morning; Meek shall hear of it before I sleep to-night. Adieu.”
“The richest heiress in the land, and Cashel a beggar,” repeated Linton, slowly, to himself, as the carriage drove off. “Charley Frobisher would say, ‘Hedge on the double event,’ but I ‘ll keep my book.” And, with this slang reflection, he sauntered into the inn to wait for his horses.
CHAPTER VIII. ROLAND DISCOVERS THAT HE HAS OVERDRAWN
– His counsel, like his physic,
If hard to take, was good when taken.
Long before the guests of Tubbermore were astir, Cashel sat in his library awaiting the arrival of Dr. Tiernay. In obedience to Roland’s request, Mr. Kennyfeck was present, and affected to look over books or out of windows, – to scan over prints or inspect maps, – anything, in short, which should pass the time and shorten the interval of waiting, doubly awkward from being the first moment he had been alone with Cashel since his arrival. Cashel was silent and absorbed, and, more intent upon following out the train of his own thoughts, never noticed the various arts by which Kennyfeck affected to interest himself. The solicitor, too, bent from time to time a stealthy look on the young man, on whose features he had rarely seen the same traces of deep reflection.
At last, with a half start, as if suddenly awaking, Cashel sat up in his chair, and said, —
“Have I explained to you what Dr. Tiernay’s business is here this morning? It is to make a proposition from Mr. Corrigan for the sale of his interest in Tubber-beg. He wishes to leave the country and go abroad.”
“His interest, sir,” replied Kennyfeck, calmly, “although more valuable to you than to any one else, must be a matter of small amount; for years back, he has done little more than vegetate on the property, without capital or skill to improve it.”
“I ‘m not asking you to appraise it, just yet,” said Roland, snappishly; “I was simply informing you of the object of the gentleman’s visit. It is the advantage of this purchase that I wished you to consider, not its cost.”
“The cost will define the advantage, sir,” rejoined Kennyfeck, “particularly as the demand may be high, and the payment inconvenient.”
“How do you mean, inconvenient?”
Kennyfeck hesitated. There was something in the hurried abruptness of the question, as well as in the excited expression of the questioner’s face, that confused him; so that Cashel had time to repeat the words before he could reply.
“Is it that I am straitened for money?” said he, passionately.
“Not quite – that – sir,” replied Kennyfeck, stopping between every word. “You have resources – very great resources – untouched, and you have considerable sums in foreign securities, intact – ”
“Never mind these,” broke in Roland, hurriedly. “How do we stand with those London fellows?”
Kennyfeck shook his head gravely, but without speaking.
“I pray you, sir,” said Roland, in a voice of hardly suppressed passion, “keep pantomime for another moment, or a keener interpreter of it, and condescend, in plain English, to answer me my last question.”
“There is no difficulty with Bigger and Swain, sir,” said Kennyfeck, as his cheek grew slightly red. “They will neither be pressing for a settlement, nor exacting when making it; besides, you have not overdrawn very heavily, After all.”
“Overdrawn, said you? – did you say overdrawn, Mr. Kennyfeck?”
“Yes, sir. In the account last forwarded, your debit was eleven thousand four hundred and forty pounds; since that you have drawn – but not for any large amount.”
“Overdrawn!” repeated Cashel, as though his thoughts had never wandered beyond the first shock of that fact; then rallying into something like his habitual easy humor, he said, “I am, I need not tell you, the stupidest man of business that ever breathed, so pray forgive me if I ask you once more if I understood you aright, that I have not only expended all the money I owned in these people’s hands, but actually had contracted a debt to them?”
“That is the case, sir,” said Kennyfeck, gravely.
A deep groan broke from Cashel, and he sat silent and still.
“I would wish to observe, sir,” said Kennyfeck, who was shocked at the alteration a few moments had made in the young man’s countenance – “I would wish to observe, sir, that if you desire a sum of money for any purpose – ”
“Stay – let me interrupt you here,” said Cashel, laying his hand on Kennyfeck’s arm, and using a tone whose earnest distinctness thrilled through his hearer’s heart; “I should deceive you, were you to suppose that it is the want of money gives me the pain I am now suffering. That I had believed myself rich a few moments back, and now found myself a beggar, could not give one-thousandth part of that suffering which I feel here. I have braved poverty in every form, and I could brave it again; but I ‘ll tell you what it is that now cuts me to the soul, and lowers me to myself. It is that, in a senseless, heartless career, I should have squandered the wealth by which I once imagined I was to bless and succor hundreds. It is to think, that of all the gold I have wasted, not one memory has been purchased of a sick-bed consoled, a suffering lessened, a sinking spirit encouraged, – I have done nothing, actually nothing, save pamper vice and sensual heartlessness. I came to this kingdom a few months back, my very dreams filled with schemes of benevolence; I felt as if this wealth were given to me that I might show the world how much of good may be done by one who, having experienced narrow fortune, should best know how to relieve it in others; and now, here am I, the wealth and the high aspirations alike departed, with no tradition to carry away, save of a life passed in debauch, the friendship of worthless, the pitying contempt of good men! Hear me out I was nurtured in no school of sentiment; I belonged to a class who had too little time or taste to indulge in scruples. We were reckless, passionate, – cruel, if you will, – but we were not bad in cold blood; we seldom hated long; we never could turn on a benefactor. These are not the lessons I ‘ve lived to learn here! It is over, however – it is past now! I ‘ll go back to the old haunts, and the old comrades. It will go hard with me if I quarrel with their rude speech and rough demeanor. I ‘ll think of gentlemen! and be grateful.”
The rapid utterance in which he poured forth these words, and the fervid excitement of his manner, abashed Kenny-feck, and deterred him from reply. Cashel was the first to speak.
“This arrangement, however, must be provided for; whatever Mr. Corrigan’s interest be worth – or rather, whatever he will accept in lieu of it – I insist upon his having. But I see Dr. Tiernay coming up to the door; we can talk of these things at another time.”
When Tiernay entered the library he was heated with his walk, and his face betrayed unmistakable signs of recent irritation; indeed, he did not long conceal the reason.
“Is it true, Mr. Cashel, that Mr. Linton is your nominee for the borough of Derraheeny?”
“Yes; what of that?”
“Why,