STARLIGHT AND TILLY.
Tilly felt very proud of herself when she put on Margot's smart little
dark-blue habit, and although the crimson cap certainly did not look as
well on her nondescript sort of hair as it had done on Margot's, she
imagined that it did, which comes after all to the same thing.
Malachi was in the best of spirits, his face was all twinkles and light
and laughter. His sisters accompanied him as he brought Starlight and
Brian the Brave round to the mounting block.
"You are kind, you _are_ kind," said Tilly, trying to show some of her
gratitude in her face.
"Ah, to be sure, why wouldn't I?" said Malachi. "Here, spring up,
missie, you must be quick, for he's a thoroughbred, remember, he's not
like the old mare, but when we get him right under way and you show no
fear, which of course you haven't got, we'll have a fine spin together
on the King's highroad."
Matilda felt altogether uplifted, as she expressed it. The awful pins
had been in some mysterious way removed. Who had done it? One of the
grooms, she supposed, and yet there was malicious laughter in Malachi's
bright dark eyes.
"Now then, no time to lose," he said. "Stand back, gurrls, both of
you, you'll have your rides this afternoon, but it is fair enough that
missie should have her turn on this her last day and she so brave--my
word, so wonderful brave! Now then, put your foot on my hand, stand on
this block and spring."
Tilly, very much excited because of the new habit, highly pleased at
having got the victory, feeling quite sure that she could outdo Margot
in the art of riding, sprang into her saddle in her somewhat awkward
fashion.
Starlight looked askance with almost a wicked look in his eye at the
creature on his back. Notwithstanding the habit and the red cap, she
was not Margot. She did not know how to sit on him comfortably. He
began to feel a sense of annoyance and a great desire to get rid of
her, but Malachi whistled to him softly, somewhat as a thrush whistles
to her young. Ah, well, he understood _that_ note. He settled down to
endure and do his best.
He thought, in his dear horsey mind, how very easily he could pitch
the thing that he didn't like off his back and get rid of her forever
when they reached the wide ditch. He did not object to trying the wide
ditch this morning, anything to get rid of the thing on his back.
Tilly, for a moment, felt inclined to scream.
"Don't let out any noise for the Lord's sake," said Malachi. "You'll
set him off if you do and when he does go, it is like a lightning
flash, I can tell you. You say you are brave, prove it! Ah, that's
better. Hold yourself erect, but for the Lord's sake don't keep the
reins so tight. You don't want to strangle the creature. Sit easy,
for Heaven's sake, just as though you were part of Starlight and he
was part of you. That's the way to ride. That's the way pushkeen rode
yesterday."
They had passed the tumble-down gate by this time and Tilly had partly
recovered her courage.
"I can ride better than la Comtesse," she said. "I have had far more
experience."
"Have ye now? Ye weren't born a Desmond, by any chance?"
"No, I'm a Raynes. The Rayneses are----"
"You needn't tell me," said Malachi. "They are the finest family in
the whole of England. They can skim the air on a horse's back like a
bit of a bird. Once you put'em on, you can't get'em off. Those are the
Rayneses for you. I know the breed, otherwise I wouldn't have mounted
you on pushkeen's thoroughbred."
"Why do you call her pushkeen? It is a very ugly name. She's nothing
whatever but a little French shopgirl. I told you so my own self,
Malachi."
"Did ye now? Well, ye see I wasn't listening. I never listen to
untruths."
"But this isn't an untruth. Oh, my, Malachi--I'm--I'm frightened!"
"Whatever are ye frightened about, Miss Raynes of England? Maybe as you
are so uncommon brave, we might try a bit of cross-country riding. Why
there you are again, jumping like anything. Whatever has come to ye? It
seems to me you are a sort of cuckoo in the nest of the Rayneses."
"I'm not, indeed I'm not. But he does jump so. See, look for yourself.
Oh, please, Malachi, hold him. He doesn't like me; he's got a wicked
sort of spirit in him."
"Maybe his saddle isn't easy," said Malachi. "You sit still and I'll
settle it. For the Lord's sake don't let him think you are afraid of
him or you are done, done black and blue."
Malachi slipped off Brian the Brave and without in the least disturbing
Tilly managed to push the pin a little further out so that it might
work a surer and a graver mischief.
"Now we are all right," he said, jumping on his own gallant steed. "Go
it Starlight, old boy, why it's one of the Rayneses you have got on
your back. Think of that, Starlight, old chap!"
Starlight certainly did think of it and thought of it with growing
passion and indignation. The pin had now thoroughly worked its way
through his satiny hide and he was altogether beside himself with rage.
Just then an old-fashioned lumbering motor car came by. This was the
finish to Starlight. He reared upright, bolt upright in the air, shook
Tilly off him as though she was a fly, left her sitting on the road
and immediately relieved from his burden began to munch some delicious
green grass from the roadside.
"I'm killed, Malachi, I'm killed," sobbed Tilly.
"Well, to be sure, are you now?" said Malachi. "I'm thinking perhaps
'twas a pin. I don't think you are killed, but you might have been if I
hadn't let you down soft. I took all the pins out, I thought."
"What pins?" said Tilly, turning very white.
"What pins! Oh, but ye are a nasty little beggar; didn't I watch you
when ye were sticking them all over the inside of the saddle yesterday?
Ye didn't guess I was having a snooze in the loose box. I often sleep
there when I'm partial to the beasts. Well, to be sure, I put the pins
in a packet. Here they are, you can look at them. How many do you
reckon you put in?"
"I don't remember--oh, none! Don't scold me, Malachi!"
"Don't scold ye, ye little liar!"
"Malachi, I tell you I am dying, I am going to faint, I know I am."
"Well, faint away, colleen, it doesn't matter to me!"
This remarkable announcement on the part of Malachi had also a
remarkable effect in restoring Tilly's nerves. It was no use to faint
if nobody cared. How dreadful Tilly felt, how sore and bruised and
broken.
Malachi led the two horses to the nearest tree, and fastened them there
with a piece of rope, which he always kept handy in his pocket. He then
proceeded to unfasten Starlight's saddle and to remove the obnoxious
pin. It was a black pin, deep and strong, and it had already made a
decided mark on the satin coat of the lovely horse.
"Now how came _this_ here, to be sure?" said he, going over to Tilly.
"I must have missed this, to be sure I did. And here are the others.
We will put them all together. Ten pins. Upon my word, it's a goodly
number. I want you to make a present of 'em, Tilly."
"A present?" answered the girl, raising her white and terrified face.
"Yes, to be sure, a present to The Desmond, and you are to tell him
why you put them in, and you are to do it at dinner to-day with the
pushkeen looking at you. You are not hurt a bit, no, not a bit. You are
shook up, whereas you deserved to die, and you may be thankful you are
let off so easy. I'm thinking that after you have told the true story
of the pins, the story of the shop will go in one ear and out of the
other, so far as The Desmond is concerned. The Rayneses may be fine
riders--I'm not taking from their merits, not I--but they are black big
liars, too, that I can swear by. Now then, get up, I'll mount ye on
Starlight. He'll go as easy as a lamb now that that black horror isn't
pricking him to death. We'll just get back in time for lunch."
"Oh, Malachi, I--I can't mount that horse again. He fairly terrifies
me, and as to that story you want me to tell about the pins, do you
think I'd disgrace myself before your father, and me so frightened of
him?"
"Very well, Tilly, you can keep silent and I'll tell. But he's got to
know."
"It isn't true, it isn't true," wailed Tilly.
"Whist, for the Lord's sake, don't let out any more black ones. Did ye
ever see a cat asleep?"
"Why, yes, Malachi, I suppose I have."
"Have you got a cat at your home?"
"Yes, my stepmother has a cat."
"Well, you watch it the next time it dozes, then you'll learn once and
forever how a cat sleeps, with one eye half open, never more, never
less. Well that eye is on, we'll call it the alert, for mice or birds
or any kind of prey. I was lying like the cat, with my one eye open,
when I saw you come along. Soon, from being half opened, it was whole
opened, and the other eye was opened, too, and I saw ye sticking in the
pins. So ye can't get out of it, Tilly Raynes from England. Very badly
ye did your job, very badly, entirely, but when ye left the stables, I
crept out all choking with laughter and I thought I'd punish ye after
all. I took out nine of the pins altogether, for one properly managed
could do the job better than your ten, anyhow. Then I palavered ye a
bit and got ye to ride on Starlight. I meant it as a punishment and the
punishment will end when ye have confessed the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth to The Desmond and made him a present of the
ten pins. You thought you'd kill his pushkeen because you were mad with
jealousy. Well, now you have just got to do what I say and no bones
about it whatsomdever!"
"Oh, Malachi, oh, Malachi, I can't."
"But I say ye can! I'll keep the pins till the minute arrives, and as
ye won't mount Starlight, I must walk the two horses home. We are a
good bit out and we'd best start at once. You keep in front of me, for
I'm not going to lose sight of ye, not for a moment. Now, then, Till
Raynes of England, march is the word!"
It was a very miserable, draggled little girl, with a white face
considerably scratched from her fall, who arrived at Desmondstown just
as the stable clock struck one. Malachi gave the horses over to his own
special groom and followed Tilly to her bedroom.
"I'll be standing outside the door waiting for you," he said. "Go in
and take off the habit and wash that scratch off your face, for it
ain't pretty, to say the least of it."
"Oh, but please, I don't want any lunch," said Tilly.
"You'll come down and take your place at the table. It don't matter in
the least whether ye eat or not."
Tilly felt herself sore and beaten and bruised. She had met her master
in Malachi and could not get rid of him. In the end she put on a neat
white frock and went downstairs and took her place at the long table.
There was a huge sirloin of beef, and new potatoes and peas, and
quantities of raspberries and cream on the sideboard. Altogether it
was a refreshing and tempting repast and not one she was likely to get
in her own poor home.
Malachi deliberately seated himself beside her. He pretended to be very
attentive to her. Margot was openly affectionate and asked eagerly how
she had enjoyed her ride.
"Oh, to be sure, she is a wonder, no less," said Malachi, "but don't
bother her with talking too much till she has got a little food inside
her. I didn't know she was one of those celebrated Rayneses. Why they
can ride a bear, a bull, a cow, anything! She let it all out to me
to-day when she was scampering so gaily on Starlight."
"I never heard of any Raynes who could ride," said The Desmond.
"You've got an ugly scratch on your cheek," said Norah. "How did ye
come by that, Till?"
"Didn't I say, let her eat her meal in quiet!" said Malachi. "A gurrl,
even though she is a Raynes, can't take it out of a thoroughbred when
he's as fresh as Starlight was this morning. Now eat, Till, eat."
He piled her plate with provisions and The Desmond did not trouble
himself to look at her again.
"You're a good, a very good little girl," said Malachi. "You're a true
Raynes, that is what you are. Now, swallow these peas and get ready
for the raspberries and cream."
Margot looked on in a puzzled way. She felt sure that there was
something behind the scenes which she would know about later on.
Malachi never put on that kind of look for nothing. At last the meal
came to an end, and just at its close Mr. Flannigan appeared on the
scene.
"Who's for Puss-in-the-Corner?" he said, glancing from one young-old
aunt to another.
"We'll have a rare game; it's a fine afternoon," said Bride.
"Help yourself to some more raspberries, Flannigan," said Malachi, "and
there's the cream jug by you. Pour it on plentiful, for there's a bit
of a lark coming on, man. Till and me, _we_ know all about it, don't
we, Till?"
Matilda had in reality hardly touched her dinner. She felt her head in
a whirl and her limbs aching. The strangely fierce appearance of The
Desmond at the head of the board terrified her beyond speaking.
"Now, we'll soon get it over," said Malachi. "Here you are, Till,
shaking a bit, well, I'll take your little hand. Come along, you know
old Malachi well enough by this time."
"I can't--I won't--I can't!" sobbed Tilly.
"For the Lord's sake don't have that girl howling in my presence," said
The Desmond.
"She's not howling really, father. She's only bringing you a little
present. She's taken a mighty fancy to you, dad, and she wants to give
you this little parcel with her humble respects."
"I don't mind taking presents if they are properly earned and
suitable," said The Desmond. "What's the matter with ye, colleen? I'm
not a bear or a lion."
"To be sure no, dad, ye are the finest man in Kerry."
By this time Malachi and Tilly were standing by The Desmond's chair.
Tilly thrust the little packet of pins into the old man's hands and
then tried to escape, but she was surrounded on all sides, and finally
it was Mr. Flannigan who brought her back to stand by The Desmond's
side and watch his face as he opened the paper which contained the
strange gift.
"Pins!" he exclaimed. "By the mighty archangels, pins! What do I want
with them, colleen?"
"Tell the story," said Malachi, who was watching her.
"I won't--I can't--I can't!" sobbed Tilly.
"Then I will," said Malachi. "I have given you every chance, and I
can't do more, but The Desmond shall know and you shall stand by and
look at him as he hears those black wicked lies of yours--no less----"
Whereupon Malachi proceeded to enlighten his old father with regard
to the pins which Tilly had inserted in the thick deep lining of
Starlight's saddle.
He told his story with great verve and passion and made far more of it
than Tilly herself would have done. He did not conceal the motive for
a moment. He did not attempt to shield the naughty and unhappy girl.
Towards the end of the narrative, The Desmond stood up. It was very
awful when The Desmond stood up. He looked so much bigger than anyone
else, and so much fiercer. His black eyes seemed to eat through Tilly.
The fire in them seemed to burn into her.
"You _go_," he said, "not to-morrow, but _to-day_! This clergyman, Mr.
Flannigan, will see you into the train. I'll give him sufficient money
to get you out of the house. You are a bad, wicked, deceitful girl. You
wanted to kill my heart's treasure! Now, leave the room, and let me
never see your face again! As to these pins they bring a curse on you,
otherwise they are harmless. You _go_! Flannigan, will you see her off
and put her into the train? Nay, it would be safer to put her on board
the ship. I didn't think there was such wickedness anywhere in the
world, but I'm learning in my old age; yes, God help me, I'm learning
in my old age. Pack your own things and _go_!"
Tilly turned and went like a half-drowned kitten out of the room. She
was met, however, in the passage by Margot. Margot's beautiful black
eyes were brimful of tears.
"Oh, Tilly, Tilly," she exclaimed, "did you really want to kill me?"
"I--I--I think I did," said Tilly. "I hated you, Margot, and I--I hate
you now."
"Anyhow I'm going to help you to pack, poor Tilly. It's an awful thing
to hate, and why should you hate one who never hated you?"
"Don't you hate me after this?" said Tilly in bewilderment.
"Oh, no, indeed; no, I love you because you are so miserable."
Suddenly Tilly found quite a different order of tears filling her eyes.
Margot swept her dear, little round arms about her and took her quickly
upstairs and packed for her because she was incapable of packing for
herself.
Phinias Maloney's funny old cart was summoned and Tilly and her
belongings were packed into it, but the last thing she remembered of
Desmondstown was the sweet face of little Margot, who kissed her hand
to her, and whose eyes were brimful of tears as she watched her drive
away.