Lord Kilgobbin. Lever Charles James
or I should certainly not part with it.’
‘It did not belong to a friend now no more?’
‘Nor that either,’ said he, smiling at the other’s persistent curiosity.
‘Then if it be neither the gift of an old love nor a lost friend, I’ll not relinquish it,’ cried Joe.
‘Be it so,’ said Walpole, half carelessly. ‘Mine was a mere caprice after all. It is linked with a reminiscence – there’s the whole of it; but if you care for it, pray keep it.’
‘I do care for it, and I will keep it.’
It was a very peculiar smile that curled Walpole’s lip as he heard this speech, and there was an expression in his eyes that seemed to say, ‘What manner of man is this, what sort of nature, new and strange to me, is he made of?’
‘Bye-bye!’ said Atlee carelessly, and he strolled away.
CHAPTER XV
When Atlee quitted Walpole’s room, he was far too full of doubt and speculation to wish to join the company in the drawing-room. He had need of time to collect his thoughts, too, and arrange his plans. This sudden departure of his would, he well knew, displease Kearney. It would savour of a degree of impertinence, in treating their hospitality so cavalierly, that Dick was certain to resent, and not less certain to attribute to a tuft-hunting weakness on Atlee’s part of which he had frequently declared he detected signs in Joe’s character.
‘Be it so. I’ll only say, you’ll not see me cultivate “swells” for the pleasure of their society, or even the charms of their cookery. If I turn them to no better uses than display, Master Dick, you may sneer freely at me. I have long wanted to make acquaintance with one of these fellows, and luck has now given me the chance. Let us see if I know how to profit by it.’
And, thus muttering to himself, he took his way to the farmyard, to find a messenger to despatch to the village for post-horses.
The fact that he was not the owner of a half-crown in the world very painfully impressed itself on a negotiation, which, to be prompt, should be prepaid, and which he was endeavouring to explain to two or three very idle but very incredulous listeners – not one of whom could be induced to accept a ten miles’ tramp on a drizzling night without the prompting of a tip in advance.
‘It’s every step of eight miles,’ cried one.
‘No, but it’s ten,’ asseverated another with energy, ‘by rayson that you must go by the road. There’s nobody would venture across the bog in the dark.’
‘Wid five shillings in my hand – ’
‘And five more when ye come back,’ continued another, who was terrified at the low estimate so rashly adventured.
‘If one had even a shilling or two to pay for a drink when he got in to Kilbeggan wet through and shivering – ’
The speaker was not permitted to finish his ignominiously low proposal, and a low growl of disapprobation smothered his words.
‘Do you mean to tell me,’ said Joe angrily, ‘that there’s not a man here will step over to the town to order a chaise and post-horses?’
‘And if yer honour will put his hand in his pocket and tempt us with a couple of crown-pieces, there’s no saying what we wouldn’t do,’ said a little bandy old fellow, who was washing his face at the pump.
‘And are crown-pieces so plentiful with you down here that you can earn them so easily?’ said Atlee, with a sneer.
‘Be me sowl, yer honour, it’s thinking that they’re not so aisy to come at, makes us a bit lazy this evening!’ said a ragged fellow, with a grin, which was quickly followed by a hearty laugh from those around him.
Something that sounded like a titter above his head made Atlee look up, and there, exactly over where he stood, was Nina, leaning over a little stone balcony in front of a window, an amused witness of the scene beneath.
‘I have two words for yourself,’ cried he to her in Italian. ‘Will you come down to the garden for one moment?’
‘Cannot the two words be said in the drawing-room?’ asked she, half saucily, in the same language.
‘No, they cannot be said in the drawing-room,’ continued he sternly.
‘It’s dropping rain. I should get wet.’
‘Take an umbrella, then, but come. Mind me, Signora Nina, I am the bearer of a message for you.’
There was something almost disdainful in the toss of her head as she heard these words, and she hastily retired from the balcony and entered the room.
Atlee watched her, by no means certain what her gesture might portend. Was she indignant with him for the liberty he had taken? or was she about to comply with his request, and meet him? He knew too little of her to determine which was the more likely; and he could not help feeling that, had he only known her longer, his doubt might have been just as great. Her mind, thought he, is perhaps like my own: it has many turnings, and she’s never very certain which one of them she will follow. Somehow, this imputed wilfulness gave her, to his eyes, a charm scarcely second to that of her exceeding beauty. And what beauty it was! The very perfection of symmetry in every feature when at rest, while the varied expressions of her face as she spoke, or smiled, or listened, imparted a fascination which only needed the charm of her low liquid voice to be irresistible.
How she vulgarises that pretty girl, her cousin, by mere contrast! What subtle essence is it, apart from hair and eyes and skin, that spreads an atmosphere of conquest over these natures, and how is it that men have no ascendencies of this sort – nothing that imparts to their superiority the sense that worship of them is in itself an ecstasy?
‘Take my message into town,’ said he to a fellow near, ‘and you shall have a sovereign when you come back with the horses’; and with this he strolled away across a little paddock and entered the garden. It was a large, ill-cultivated space, more orchard than garden, with patches of smooth turf, through which daffodils and lilies were scattered, and little clusters of carnations occasionally showed where flower-beds had once existed. ‘What would I not give,’ thought Joe, as he strolled along the velvety sward, over which a clear moonlight had painted the forms of many a straggling branch – ‘What would I not give to be the son of a house like this, with an old and honoured name, with an ancestry strong enough to build upon for future pretensions, and then with an old home, peaceful, tranquil, and unmolested, where, as in such a spot as this, one might dream of great things, perhaps more, might achieve them! What books would I not write! What novels, in which, fashioning the hero out of my own heart, I could tell scores of impressions the world had made upon me in its aspect of religion, or of politics, or of society! What essays could I not compose here – the mind elevated by that buoyancy which comes of the consciousness of being free for a great effort! Free from the vulgar interruptions that cling to poverty like a garment, free from the paltry cares of daily subsistence, free from the damaging incidents of a doubtful position and a station that must be continually asserted. That one disparagement, perhaps, worst of all,’ cried he aloud: ‘how is a man to enjoy his estate if he is “put upon his title” every day of the week? One might as well be a French Emperor, and go every spring to the country for a character.’
‘What shocking indignity is this you are dreaming of?’ said a very soft voice near him, and turning he saw Nina, who was moving across the grass, with her dress so draped as to show the most perfect instep and ankle with a very unguarded indifference.
‘This is very damp for you; shall we not come out into the walk?’ said he.
‘It is very damp,’ said she quickly; ‘but I came because you said you had a message for me: is this true?’
‘Do you think I could deceive you?’ said he, with a sort of tender reproachfulness.
‘It might not be so very easy, if you were to try,’ replied she, laughing.
‘That is not the most gracious way to answer me.’
‘Well,