We never experience to the full how far sorrow has made its inroad upon
us until we come back, after absence, to the places where we have once
been happy, and find them lone and tenantless. While we recognise each
old familiar object, we see no longer those who gave them all their
value in our eyes; every inanimate thing about speaks to our senses,
but where are they who were wont to speak to our hearts? The solitary
chamber is then, indeed, but the body of all our pleasure, from which
the soul has departed for ever.
These feelings were mine as I paced the old well-worn stairs, and
entered my quarters in the Castle. No more I heard the merry laugh of my
friend O'Grady, nor his quick step upon the stair. The life, the stir,
the bustle of the place itself seemed to have all fled; the court echoed
only to the measured tread of the grenadier, who marched backwards
and forwards beside the flagstaff in the centre of the open space. No
cavalcade of joyous riders, no prancing horses led about by grooms, no
showy and splendid equipages; all was still, sad, and neglected-looking.
The dust whirled about in circling eddies, as the cold wind of an
autumnal day moaned through the arched passages and gloomy corridors of
the old building. A care-worn official, or some slatternly inferior of
the household, would perhaps pass from time to time; but except such as
these, nothing stirred. The closed shutters and drawn-down blinds showed
that the viceroy was absent and I found myself the only occupant of the
building.
It requires the critical eye of the observant resident of great cities
to mark the changes which season and fashion effect in their appearance.
To one unaccustomed to their phases it seems strange to hear, 'How empty
the town is! how very few people are in London!'--while the heavy tide
of population pours incessantly around him, and his ear is deafened
with the ceaseless roll of equipage. But in such a city as Dublin the
alteration is manifest to the least observant. But little frequented by
the country gentry, and never except for the few months when the court
is there; still less visited by foreigners; deserted by the professional
classes, at least such of them as are independent enough to absent
themselves--the streets are actually empty. The occupations of trade,
the bustle of commerce, that through every season continue their
onward course in the great trading cities such as Liverpool, Hamburg,
Frankfort, and Bourdeaux, scarce exist here; and save that the tattered
garments of mendicancy, and the craving cries of hunger are ever before
you, you might fall into a drowsy reverie as you walked, and dream
yourself in Palmyra.
I had strolled about for above an hour, in the moody frame of mind my
own reflections and the surrounding objects were well calculated to
suggest, when, meeting by accident a subaltern with whom I was slightly
acquainted, I heard that the court had that morning left the Lodge in
the Park for Kilkenny, where the theatricals of that pleasant city were
going forward--a few members of the household alone remaining, who were
to follow in a day or two.
For some days previous I had made up my mind not to remain in Ireland.
Every tie that bound me to the country was broken. I had no heart to set
about forming new friendships while the wounds of former ones were
still fresh and bleeding; and I longed for change of scene and active
occupation, that I might have no time to reflect or look back.
Resolving to tender my resignation on the duke's staff without any
further loss of time, I set out at once for the Park. I arrived there in
the very nick of time; the carriages were at the entrance, waiting for
the private secretary of his grace and two of the aides-de-camp, who
were eating a hurried luncheon before starting. One of the aides-de-camp
I knew but slightly, the other was a perfect stranger to me; but the
secretary, Horton, was an intimate acquaintance. He jumped up from his
chair as my name was announced, and a deep blush covered his face as he
advanced to meet me.
'My dear Hinton, how unfortunate! Why weren't you here yesterday? It's
too late now.'
'Too late for what? I don't comprehend you.'
'Why, my dear fellow,' said he, drawing his arm within mine, and leading
me towards a window, as he dropped his voice to a whisper, 'I believe
you heard from me that his grace was provoked at your continued absence,
and expected at least that you would have written to ask an extension
of your leave. I don't know how it was, but it seemed to me that the
duchess came back from England with some crotchet in her head, about
something she heard in London. In any case, they ordered me to write.'
'Well, well,' said I impatiently; 'I guess it all. I have got my
dismissal. Isn't that the whole of it?'
He nodded twice, without speaking.
'It only anticipates my own wishes,' said I coolly, 'as this note may
satisfy you.' I placed the letter I had written for the purpose of my
resignation in his hand, and continued: 'I am quite convinced in my own
mind that his grace, whose kindness towards me has never varied, would
never have dreamed of this step on such slight grounds as my absence.
No, no; the thing lies deeper. At any other time I should certainly have
wished to trace this matter to its source; now, however, chiming as it
does with my own plans, and caring little how fortune intends to treat
me, I'll submit in silence.'
'And take no notice of the affair further?'
'Such is my determination,' said I resolutely.
'In that case,' said Horton, 'I may tell you that some story of a lady
had reached the duchess, when in London--some girl that it was reported
you endeavoured to seduce, and had actually followed for that purpose
to the west of Ireland. There, there! don't take the matter up that way,
for heaven's sake! My dear fellow, hear me out!' But I could hear no
more; the rushing blood that crowded on my brain stunned and stupefied
me, and it took several minutes before I became sufficiently collected
to ask him to go on.
'I heard the thing so confusedly,' said he, 'that I cannot attempt
anything like connection in relating it. But the story goes that your
duel in Loughrea did not originate about the steeplechase at all, but in
a quarrel about this girl, with her brother or her cousin, who, having
discovered your intentions regarding her, you wished to get rid of, as a
preliminary. No one but a fool could credit such a thing.'
'None but such could have invented it,' said I, as my thoughts at once
recurred to Lord Dudley de Vere.
'The duke, however, spoke to General Hinton----'
'To my father! And how did he----'
'Oh, behaved as only he could have done: “Stop, my lord!” said he; “I'll
spare you any further relation of this matter. If it be true, my son is
unworthy of remaining on your staff. If it be false, I'll not permit him
to hold an appointment where his reputation has been assailed without
affording him an opportunity of defence.” High words ensued, and the end
was that if you appeared before to-day, you were to hear the charge and
have an opportunity for reply. If not, your dismissal was to be made
out, and another appointed in your place. Now that I have told you what
I feel the indiscretion of my ever having spoken of, promise me, my
dear Hinton, that you will take no step in the matter. The intrigue is
altogether beneath you, and your character demands no defence on your
part.'
'I almost suspect I know the person,' said I gloomily.
'No, no; I'm certain you can't. It is some woman's story; some piece of
tea-table gossip, depend on it--in any case, quite unworthy of caring
about.'
'At all events, I am too indifferent at this moment to feel otherwise
about anything,' said I. 'So, good-bye; Horton. My regards to all our
fellows; good-bye!'
'Good-bye, my boy,' said he, warmly shaking my hand. 'But, stop a
moment, I have got some letters for you; they arrived only a few days
since.'
He took a packet from a drawer as he spoke, and once more bidding him
adieu, I set out on my return to the Castle.