But there was no jocular reply. The thing was too serious for that.
The man was inflamed. Why cannot the English appreciate that the
love of nationality is inextinguishable?
The rain began again and fell persistently and we slithered on our
way. It's a long lane that has no turning, and this was one, though
it did nothing but turn. Always it was leading to the right, though
I _felt_ it should lead straight on or else bear to the left.
Finally we came to a highway that somehow looked familiar, and before
we had gone a mile farther, I found that we were where we had started
from an hour before! There was the wretched hovel where the giant
dwelt, and a vigorous shout brought him to the door.
"See here, my friend," I cried, "what did you mean by telling me that
that road would lead to Blarney Castle? I have kept on it all the
time, and it has brought me back here."
"Now ain't that a shame? I never thought such a thing would happen
to you. Now I'll tell you God's truth. You was clean out of your
way when you was last here. You ought to have left the road you are
on this minute as much as seven miles back. And when you asked me if
yonder road would lead to Blarney Castle, and I looked at the lovely
face of the lady, and she lookin' tired, too, I hadn't the heart to
tell you you must turn back. I thought when you got on this road
again ye would have turned the other way, and not have lost so much
anyway. And how was I to know you wouldn't meet a man who wouldn't
mind telling bad news, and who would set you on your way? But as for
me, I hadn't the heart to do it!"
And that's what Ruth calls "lying from a kind heart!" A cynic might
suggest that the "lovely lady" had something to do with this
charitable if immoral dictum!
Well, there was nothing to do but to turn back and drive for the
third time over a road I had come to hate. About seven miles back we
found the proper turning, and, after much splashing, came to Blarney
Castle.
I did not kiss the stone, for I had no desire to get a water-spout
down the back of my neck by leaning out of the window--as you may
remember one must do--to perform the feat. Indeed I thought there
was force in Lord Chesterfield's advice to his son, when he said he
intended to go down into a coal-mine:
"What for?" asked the noble lord.
"Why, to say I have been down one!"
"Why not say it?" he replied.
Indeed I am inclined to think that is what a good many people have
done at Blarney!