The Martins Of Cro' Martin, Vol. I (of II)

“Dear me!” cried she, in a weary tone, “my great difficulty will be to discard its evil influence, and even write a common note like a reasonable being again.”

“But come, confess frankly: you think that a political career is the only one worth embracing, and that any other life offers no reward worthy the name?”

“I think you mistake me,” said she. “It is the social position consequent upon success in a political life that I value, – the eminence it confers in the very highest and greatest circles. If I regarded the matter otherwise, I’d not be indifferent as to the line to follow – I ‘d have great convictions, and hold them, – I mean, if I were you.”

“Then of course you consider me as one who has none such?”

“To be sure I do. Men of your measures of ability can no more burden themselves with principles than a thoroughbred hackney can carry extra weight, – they ‘ve quite enough to do to make their running without.”

“Well, I shall certainly not be spoiled by flattery, at least from you,” said Jack, laughing.

“They who know you less will make up for it all, depend upon it,” said she, quietly. “Don’t fancy, Mr. Massingbred,” added she, with more earnestness of manner, – “don’t fancy that I ‘m insensible to the impertinences I have dared to address to you, or that I venture upon them without pain; but when I perceived that you would admit me to the liberty of criticising your conduct, character, and manners, I thought that I might render you good service by saying what better taste and better breeding would shrink from, and the only cost be the dislike of myself.”

“You took a very bad way to accomplish the latter,” said Jack, fervently.

“I did n’t give it much consideration,” said she, haughtily. “It was very little matter what opinion you entertained of ‘the governess.’”

“I should like to convince you that you were wrong,” said he, looking fixedly at her.

“You’d find your task harder than you suspect, sir,” said she, coldly. “There is a sense of pride about the humbleness of a station such as mine, as all the elevation of one in yours could never fathom. And,” added she, in a still more determined tone, “there is but one condition on which this intercourse of ours can continue, which is, that this topic be never resumed between us. The gulf that separates your position in life from mine is the security for mutual frankness; to attempt to span it over by deception would be to build a bridge that must break down the first moment of its trial. Enough of this! I’ll take these,” said she, gathering up the papers, “and copy them out clearly. They ought to be with the printer to-morrow; and, indeed, you should not defer your canvass.”

Massingbred made no answer, but sat with his head buried between his hands.

“I’d have you to visit the ‘dear constituency’ at once, Mr. Massingbred,” said she, with a slight touch of scorn in her voice. “They are not well bred enough to bear a slight!” And with this she left the room.

“I should like excessively to know the secret of this interest in my behalf,” said Jack, as he arose and slowly walked the room. “It is not, unquestionably, from any high estimate of my capacity; as little is it anything bordering on regard; and yet,” added he, after a pause, “there are moments when I half fancy she could care for me, – at least I know well that I could for her, Confound it!” cried he, passionately, “what a terrible barrier social station throws up! If she were even some country squire’s daughter, – portionless as she is, – the notion would not be so absurd; but ‘the governess!’ and ‘the steward!’ what frightful figures to conjure up. No, no; that’s impossible. One might do such a folly by retiring from the world forever, but that would be exactly to defeat the whole object of such a match. She is essentially intended for ‘the world;’ every gift and grace she possesses are such as only have their fitting exercise where the game of life is played by the highest, and for the heaviest stakes! But it is not to be thought of!”

“Have I found you at last?” cried Repton, entering the room. “They say the writ will be here on Monday, so that we ‘ve not an hour to lose. Let us drive over to Oughterard at once, see the editor of the ‘Intelligence,’ call on Priest Rafferty, and that other fellow – the father of our young friend here.”

“Mr. Nelligan,” said Jack. “But I can’t well visit him– there have been some rather unpleasant passages between us.”

“Ah! you told me something about it. He wanted you to fill a bail-bond, or do something or other, rather than shoot me. An unreasonable old rascal! Never mind; we shall come before him now in another character, and you ‘ll see that he’ll be more tractable.”

“The matter is graver than this,” said Jack, musingly; “and our difference is serious enough to make intercourse impossible.”

“You shall tell me all about it as we drive along, – that is, if it be brief and easy to follow, for my head is so full of election matters I don’t desire a new element of complication. Step in now, and let us away.” And with this he hurried Massingbred to the door, where a pony-phaeton was in waiting for them.

Once on the road, Repton changed the conversation from the domain of politics, and talked entirely of the host and his family. There was a sort of constitutional frankness and familiarity about the old lawyer which all the astute habits and instincts of his profession had never mastered. Like a great many acute men, his passion for shrewd observation and keen remark overbore the prudent reserve that belongs to less animated talkers, and so he now scrupled not to dis-cuss Martin and his affairs to one who but a few days back had been a complete stranger amongst them.

At first Jack heard him without much interest, but, as he continued, the subject attracted all his attention, full as it was of views of life and the world perfectly new and strange to him.

To Massingbred’s great astonishment, he learned that vast as the estates, and large as was the fortune of the Martins, that they were deeply encumbered with bond-debts and mortgages. The wasteful habits of the gentry generally, combined with great facilities for obtaining money at any emergency, had led to this universal indebtedness; and, in fact, as the lawyer expressed it, an old estate was supposed to be the victim of debt, as an elderly gentleman was liable to gout; nobody presuming to think that the tenure, in either case, was a whit the more precarious on account of the casualty.

“Now,” said Repton, as they reached a point of the road from which a view of the country could be obtained for miles on every side – “now, as far as you can see belongs to Martin. Beyond that mountain yonder, too, there is a large tract – not very productive, it is true – extending to the sea. The fine waving surface to your left is all tillage land; and the islands in the bay are his. It is really a princely estate, with even greater hidden resources than those palpable and open to view. But, were I to show it to you on a map, and point out at the same time every spot on which some moneylender has a claim – how much has been advanced upon this – what sums have been lent upon that – you ‘d be more amazed at the careless ease of the proprietor than you now are at the extent of his fortune.”

“But he is spending immensely in improving and developing the property,” said Jack.

“Of course he is, sir. That new-fangled notion of ‘gentleman-farming ‘ – which has come to us from countries where there are no gentlemen – won’t suit Ireland, at least in the present generation. What we want here is, not to make more money, but to learn how to spend less; and although the first very often teaches the last, it is a hard way for an Irishman to acquire his knowledge. There’s your borough, sir, – that little spot in the valley yonder is Oughterard. Do you feel, as you behold it, as though it were to be the mainspring of a great career? Is there an instinctive throb within that says, ‘The honorable member for Oughterard will be a great name in the “Collective Wisdom “‘?”

“I can scarcely say yes to that appeal,” said Jack, smiling; “though, if what you have just told me of the mediocrity of public men be true – ”

“Can you doubt it? You have them all before you, – their lives, their sayings, and their doings. Show me one in the whole mass who has originated a new idea in politics, or developed a new resource in the nation. Do they exhibit the common inventiveness displayed in almost every other walk of life, or do they even dress up their common platitudes in any other garb than the cast-off clothes of their predecessors? Mediocrity is a flattery when applied to them. But what’s this coming along behind us, with such clattering of hoofs?”

“A tandem, I think,” said Jack, looking backward, “and very well handled, too.”

“Oh, that illustrious attorney, Mr. Scanlan, I ‘ve no doubt. Let us draw up till he passes.” And so saying, Repton moved to one side of the road, giving a wide space for the other to proceed on his way. Mr. Scanlan, however, had subdued his nags, by a low, soft whistle, to a half-trot, when, giving the reins to his servant, he descended and advanced to the carriage. “I’ve been in pursuit of you, gentlemen,” said he, touching his hat courteously, “for the last four miles, and I assure you you ‘ve given me a breathing heat of it. Mr. Martin requested me to hand you this note, sir,” added he, addressing Repton, “which demands immediate attention.”

The note was marked “Instantaneous,” and “Strictly private,” on the cover, and Repton opened it at once. Its contents were as follows, —

“Dear Rep., – The post has just arrived, with intelligence that Harry is coming home, – may be here within a week or so, – so that we must not go on with our present plans for the borough, as H., of course, will stand. Come back, therefore, at once, and let as talk over the matter together.

“Yours, in haste,

“G. M.”

“You know what this contains, perhaps?” said Repton, in a whisper to Scanlan. He nodded an assent, and the old lawyer re-read the note. “I don’t see my way here quite clearly,” added he, in the same subdued voice, to Scanlan.

“I’ll stroll on and stretch my legs a bit,” said Jack, springing out of the pony phaeton, and seeing that the others had some private matter of discussion; and Scanlan now drew nigh, while Repton informed him what the note contained.

“It’s a little too late for this now,” said Scanlan, gravely.

“How do you mean too late?” asked Repton.

“Why, that Massingbred stands well with the people in the borough. They think that he ‘ll be more their man than Martin’s, and, indeed, they ‘re so confident of it, I half suspect he has told them so.”

“But there has been no canvass as yet, – his address isn’t even printed.”

“There has been a correspondence, however,” said Scanlan, with a knowing wink. “Take my word for it, Mr. Repton, he ‘s a deep fellow.”

“Are you quite sure of this? – can you pledge yourself to its truth?”

“I only know that Father Rafferty said the night before last he was satisfied with him, and the one difficulty was about old Nelligan, who somehow is greatly incensed against Massingbred.”

“He ‘d have no chance in the borough without us,” said Repton, confidently.

“If old Dan would consent to spend the money, he’d be the member in spite of us,” rejoined Scanlan.

“I’ll not dispute local knowledge with you, sir,” said Repton, peevishly. “Let us turn back at once. Where’s Mr. Massingbred? I saw him standing on the hill yonder a few minutes ago; maybe, he ‘s strolling along the road in front.” Repton moved forward to a rising spot of ground, from whence a wide view extended for a distance on every side, but no trace of Massingbred could be discovered. “What can have become of him? – has he turned towards Cro’ Martin?” asked Repton.

“There he is,” cried Scanlan, suddenly; “there he is, walking with Magennis. They’re taking the short cut over the hills to Oughterard – that’s unfortunate, too!”

“How so?”

“Why, before they’re in the town they’ll be as thick as two pickpockets – see how they ‘re talking! I think, if I was to drive on, I’d catch them before they entered the town.”

“Do so, then, Scanlan. Say that a sudden message from Mr. Martin recalled me, but that you’ll drive him back with you to Cro’ Martin.”

“Am I to allude to the contents of the note, sir?”

“I think not; I opine it’s best not to speak of it. Say, however, that something of importance has occurred at Cro’ Martin, and suggest to him that the sooner he returns thither the better.”

There was an amount of vacillation and uncertainty about Repton’s manner as he uttered these few words that showed not only how gravely he regarded the crisis, but how totally unprepared he found himself for the emergency. Not so Scanlan, who took his seat once more on his lofty “buggy,” and was soon spinning along the road at a pace of full twelve miles the hour.

As Repton drove back to Cro’ Martin, he thought once, and not without humiliation, of his late lessons in statecraft to young Massingbred. “To fancy that I was instilling all these precepts at the very moment that he was countermining us. The young villain is a worthy son of his father! And how he will laugh at me, and make others laugh too! It will never do to drive him into opposition to us. Martin must consent to make the best of it, now, and accept him as his member, – for the present, at least. With time and good opportunity we can manage to trip up his heels, but, for the moment, there’s no help for it.” And with these not very consoling reflections he entered once more the grounds of Cro’ Martin Castle.

Let us now turn to Massingbred, as, accompanied by Magennis, he walked at a rapid pace towards Oughterard. It needed but a glance at the figures, and the rate at which they moved, to see that these two men were bent upon an object.

“Don’t you see the town now before you?” said Magennis. “It’s not much above two miles, and by the road it is every step of six, or six and a half; and if we walk as we’re doing now, we’ll be there at least twenty minutes before them.”

“But what will Repton think of my leaving him in this fashion?”

“That it was a bit of your usual eccentricity, – no more,” said the other, laughing.

“You are quite certain of what you’ve just told me?” asked Jack, after a pause.

“I tell you that you shall have it from Hosey’s own lips. He showed the post-mark on the back of the letter to Father Rafferty, and it was ‘Cape Town, August 24.’ Now, as Hosey knows young Martin’s writing as well as any man, what doubt can there be about it?”

“By that calculation,” said Jack, thoughtfully, “he might be here within the present month!”

“Exactly what Father Neal said.”

“A shrewd fellow that same Hosey must be to put things together in this fashion,” said Jack. “Such a head as he has on his shoulders might n’t be a bad counsellor at this moment.”

“Just come and talk to him a bit,” rejoined Magennis; “say you want to be trimmed about the whiskers, and he’ll be a proud man to have you under his hand.”

“And the committee are satisfied with my letter?” asked Jack.

“They are, and they are not; but, on the whole, they think it’s a step in the right direction to get anything out of the Martins, and, as Father Neal remarks, ‘where we can pass with our head, we can put our whole body through.’”

“But what ‘s to be done about Nelligan? The breach with him is, I suspect, irreparable.”

“Why, it was Nelligan himself moved the first resolution in the committee, that your address be accepted as embodying the views – he said the present views – of the liberal electors.”

“You amaze me!” cried Massingbred; “and Joe, where was he?”

“Joe is off to Dublin; there ‘s some examination or other he must attend. But old Dan is your friend, rely upon that.”

“This is inexplicable,” muttered Jack to himself.

“We ‘ll go there, straight, the moment we get into the town. He ‘ll take it as a great compliment; and you can talk to him frankly and openly, for old Dan is a man to be trusted.”

“I wish I could guess at how this reconciliation has been effected,” muttered Jack.

“It was your letter did it, I think.”

“But I never wrote one.”

“Well, somebody else did, perhaps; at all events, Dan had an open letter in his hand when he addressed the committee, and said, ‘After reading this, gentlemen,’ said he, ‘I can only say that I ‘ll not oppose Mr. Massingbred; and if the free and independent men of Oughterard ask me who is the man to represent them, I’ll answer, he ‘s your man! And what’s more, there ‘s my name down for two hundred pounds for the election, if it ever comes to be a contest!’”

“This is all very good, but very strange news,” cried Jack.

“Well, I can explain nothing of the mystery, if there be one. I only know what I heard and saw myself.”

“Let us go to his house, at all events,” said Massingbred, who now suffered his companion to rattle on about the state of parties and politics in Oughterard, little heeding his remarks, and only bent on following out his own thoughts. “Give whom the slip?” asked he, suddenly catching at the last words of some observation of Magennis.

“The Martins, of course,” resumed the other; “for, as Father Neal says, ‘if we can secure the borough for you, you can well afford to stand by us; but if you were only Martin’s member, he ‘d drop you whenever it suited him.’”

“As to-morrow, for instance, if his son should make his appearance!”

“Just so; and that’s the very reason for not losing a minute about getting the Martins in for the cost. What can they say, after choosing you and putting you forward?”

“They might make a personal appeal to me, – a distinct request to give place to the son.”

“And would n’t you pay great attention to it?” said Magennis, in mockery.

“I ‘m not so very sure I ‘d refuse,” said Massingbred, slowly.

“Faith, then, you ‘d better be candid enough to tell the electors so ‘at once.’ Look now, Mr. Massingbred,” said he, coming to a dead halt, and standing directly in front of him; “we don’t go the same road, not one step, till I hear from you, distinctly and plainly, what you mean to do.”

“This is somewhat of a peremptory proceeding,” replied Jack. “I think it would not be very unreasonable to allow a man in my situation a little time for reflection.”

“Reflect upon what?” cried Magennis. “Is it what politics you ‘d be? If that’s what you mean, I think you ‘d better say nothing about it.”

“Come, come, Mac, you are not quite fair in this business; there are difficulties, – there are embarrassments very often in the way of doing things which we have made up our minds to do. Now, if I were perfectly certain that the liberal interest here could succeed in spite of Martin – ”

“So it will.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“I ‘ll show it to you on paper. We ‘d rather have Martin with us and no contest, because it’s cheaper; but if it must come to money, we ‘ll do it.”

“Satisfy me on that point, and I’m with you; there’s my hand on’t!”

And Magennis grasped him in his own strong fingers to ratify the contract.

While “Mac” went on to give some insight into the views and wishes of his party, they reached the town and entered the main street, and held their way towards old Nelligan’s shop.

“That’s Father Neal’s pony at the door,” said Mac, as they approached the shop; “so we’ll find them both together.”

“I scarcely think I can enter here,” said Massingbred, “after what passed last between us. We surely did not part as friends.”

“How little you know about us at all!” said Mac. “Old Dan bears you no malice, I ‘d lay fifty pounds on it! But, if you like, I ‘ll just step in and take soundings.”

“Do so, then,” said Massingbred, not sorry to have even a few moments to himself for quiet thought and consideration. He was still standing, and deeply engrossed by his reflections, when he was aroused by hearing his name called aloud, and, on looking up, perceived Magennis beckoning to him from a window overhead. In obedience to the signal, Jack turned and entered the shop, where his friend quickly joined him. “Old Dan is in his bed, with a heavy cold and a rheumatism, but he ‘ll see you; and Father Neal’s with him, and Hayes, besides.” And with this information he hurried Jack up the stairs, and led him into a darkened room, where the figures of the priest and old Hayes were dimly discernible. Before Massingbred had well crossed the door-sill, Nelligan called out, “Your servant, Mr. Massingbred. I ‘m more than pleased with your explanation. Let me shake your hand once more.”

“I’m not quite sure that I understand you,” said Jack, in a low voice; but before he could continue, the priest advanced to greet him, followed by old Peter.

“Wasn’t I in luck to catch him on the road this morning?” said Magennis; “he was coming in with the old Counsellor, and just got out to walk up a hill – ”

“Remember,” said Jack, “that I have few minutes to spare, for I must be in waiting about the market-place when he drives in.”

“We must have a conference, though,” said Father Neal; “there ‘s much to be settled. First of all, are we to coalesce for the representation?”

“No, no, no!” cried Nelligan. “We ‘ll have it our own way. If Mr. Massingbred will be our Member, we want no help from the Martins.”

“There ‘s five pounds, and I ‘ll make it guineas if you like,” said old Hayes, putting a note upon the table; “but the devil a Whig or Tory will ever get more out of Peter Hayes!”

A very good-natured laugh from the others showed how little umbrage the frank avowal excited.

“We ‘ll not want for money, Peter, make your mind easy about that,” said Dan. “When can you meet the committee, Mr. Massingbred? Could you say to-night?”

“Better to-morrow morning. I must return to Cro’ Martin this evening.”

“Certainly, – of course,” said Father Neal, blandly. “You ‘ll have to come to an understanding with Mr. Martin about the borough, declare what your principles are, and how, upon very mature consideration, you find you can’t agree with the opinions of himself and his party.”

Magennis winked significantly at Jack, as though to say, “Listen to him; he ‘s the man to instruct and direct you;” and the priest resumed: —

“Go on to explain that your only utility in the House could arise from your being the exponent of what you feel to be the truth about Ireland, the crying evils of the Established Church, and the present tenure of land! When you throw these two shells in, sir, the town will be on fire. He ‘ll reply that under these circumstances there ‘s no more question about your standing for the borough; you’ll say nothing, – not a word, not a syllable; you only smile. If Repton ‘s by – and he ‘s likely to be – he ‘ll get hot, and ask you what you mean by that – ”

“There ‘s Scanlan just driving round the corner,” said Magennis, in a whisper; and Massingbred arose at once and drew nigh to the bedside.

“Could I say one word to you alone, Mr. Nelligan?” said he, in a low voice.

“Of course,” said he. And whispering the priest to take the others into an adjoining room, old Nelligan motioned Jack to sit down beside him.

“You said, as I came in,” said Jack, “that you were satisfied with my explanation – ”

“To be sure I was,” broke in Dan. “All I wanted to know was, that you acted under a misconception. That being once explained, there was no offence on either side. Now, Catty Henderson’s letter to my wife put the thing straight at once; she showed that your conduct at Cro’ Martin arose out of a notion that Joe had slighted you.”

“Have you got this letter?” asked Jack, eagerly.

“Indeed, then, I have not; his mother forwarded it to Joe by the same post; but, as I tell you I ‘m satisfied, there ‘s an end of it.”

“Scanlan ‘s asking for you below stairs,” said Magennis, putting in his head; “and I hear them saying that they didn’t see you in town.”

“All right,” said Jack; “so I’ll just slip out by the garden gate and meet him in the market-square.” And with a hurried leave-taking Jack withdrew, his mind very far from that state of tranquil composure in which it was his pride to affect that he invariably revelled.

“There they go!” cried Father Neal, shortly after, as Scanlan drove rapidly by, with Massingbred beside him. “Maybe Master Maurice won’t abuse us all round before he turns in at the gate of Cro’ Martin!”