O'BRIEN AND MYSELF TAKE A STEP EACH, "PARI PASSU"--A FAMILY REUNION,
PRODUCTIVE OF ANYTHING BUT UNITY--MY UNCLE, NOT ALWAYS THE BEST FRIEND.
A few days afterwards I left my card with my address with the First
Lord, and the next day received a letter from his secretary, which, to
my delight, informed me that my commission had been made out some days
before. I hardly need say that I hastened to take it up, and when
paying my fee to the clerk, I ventured, at a hazard, to inquire whether
he knew the address of Lieutenant O'Brien.
"No," replied he, "I wish to find it out, for he has this day been
promoted to the rank of Commander."
I almost leaped with joy when I heard this good news; I gave O'Brien's
address to the clerk, hastened away with my invaluable piece of
parchment in my hand, and set off immediately for my father's house.
But I was met with sorrow. My mother had been taken severely ill, and I
found the house in commotion--doctors, and apothecaries, and nurses,
running to and fro, my father in a state of excitement, and my dear
sister in tears. Spasm succeeded spasm; and although every remedy was
applied, the next evening she breathed her last. I will not attempt to
describe the grief of my father, who appeared to feel remorse at his
late unkind treatment of her, my sister, and myself. These scenes must
be imagined by those who have suffered under similar bereavements. I
exerted myself to console my poor sister, who appeared to cling to me as
to her only support, and, after the funeral was over, we recovered our
tranquillity, although the mourning was still deeper in our hearts than
in our outward dress. I had written to O'Brien to announce the mournful
intelligence, and, like a true friend, he immediately made his
appearance to console me.
O'Brien had received the letter from the Admiralty, acquainting him with
his promotion; and, two days after he arrived, went to take up his
commission. I told him frankly by what means he had obtained it, and he
again concluded his thanks by a reference to the mistake of the former
supposition, that of my being "the fool of the family."
"By the powers, it would be well for any man if he had a few of such
foolish friends about him," continued he; "but I won't blarney you,
Peter; you know what my opinion always has been, so we'll say no more
about it."
When he came back, we had a long consultation as to the best method of
proceeding to obtain employment, for O'Brien was anxious to be again
afloat, and so was I. I regretted parting with my sister, but my father
was so morose and ill-tempered, that I had no pleasure at home, except
in her company. Indeed, my sister was of opinion, that it would be
better if I were away, as my father's misanthropy, now unchecked by my
mother, appeared to have increased, and he seemed to view me with
positive dislike. It was, therefore, agreed unanimously between my
sister, and me, and O'Brien, who was always of our councils, that it
would be advisable that I should be again afloat.
"I can manage him much better when alone, Peter; I shall have nothing to
occupy me, and take me away from him, as your presence does now; and,
painful as it is to part with you, my duty to my father, and my wish for
your advancement, induce me to request that you will, if possible, find
some means of obtaining employment."
"Spoken like a hero, as ye are, Miss Ellen, notwithstanding your pretty
face and soft eyes," said O'Brien. "And now, Peter, for the means to
bring it about. If I can get a ship, there is no fear for you, as I
shall choose you for my lieutenant; but how is that to be managed? Do
you think that you can come over the old gentleman at Eagle Park?"
"At all events I'll try," replied I; "I can but be floored, O'Brien."
Accordingly, the next day I set off for my grandfather's, and was put
down at the lodge, at the usual hour, about eleven o'clock. I walked up
the avenue, and knocked at the door: when it was opened, I perceived a
hesitation among the servants, and a constrained air which I did not
like. I inquired after Lord Privilege--the answer was, that he was
pretty well, but did not see _any_ body.
"Is my uncle here," said I.
"Yes, sir," replied the servant, with a significant look, "and all his
family are here too."
"Are you sure that I cannot see my _grandfather_," said I, laying a
stress upon the word.
"I will tell him that you are here, sir," replied the man, "but even
that is against orders."
I had never seen my uncle since I was a child, and could not even
recollect him--my cousins, or my aunt, I had never met with. In a
minute, an answer was brought, requesting that I would walk into the
library. When I was ushered in, I found myself in the presence of Lord
Privilege, who sat in his usual place, and a tall gentleman, whom I knew
at once to be my uncle, from his likeness to my father.
"Here is the young gentleman, my lord," said my uncle, looking at me
sternly.
"Heh! what--oh! I recollect. Well, child, so you've been behaving very
ill--sorry to hear it. Good-bye."
"Behaving ill, my lord!" replied I. "I am not aware of having so done."
"Reports are certainly very much against you, nephew," observed my uncle
dryly. "Some one has told your grandfather what has much displeased
him. I know nothing about it myself."
"Then some rascal has slandered me, sir," replied I.
My uncle started at the word rascal; and then recovering himself,
replied, "Well, nephew what is it that you require of Lord Privilege,
for I presume this visit is not without a cause?"
"Sir," replied I, "my visit to Lord Privilege was, first to thank him
for having procured me my commission as lieutenant, and to request the
favour that he would obtain me active employment, which a line from him
will effect immediately."
"I was not aware, nephew, that you had been made lieutenant; but I agree
with you, that the more you are at sea the better. His lordship shall
sign the letter. Sit down."
"Shall I write it, sir?" said I to my uncle: "I know what to say."
"Yes; and bring it to me when it is written."
I felt convinced that the only reason which induced my uncle to obtain
me employment, was the idea that I should be better out of the way, and
that there was more risk at sea than on shore. I took a sheet of paper
and wrote as follows:--
"MY LORD,--May I request that your lordship will be pleased to appoint
the bearer of this to a ship, as soon as convenient, as I wish him to
be actively employed.
"I am, my lord, etcetera, etc."
"Why not mention your name?"
"It is of no consequence," replied I, "as it will be delivered in
person, and that will insure my speedy appointment."
The letter was placed before his lordship for signature. It was with
some difficulty that he was made to understand that he was to sign it.
The old gentleman appeared much more imbecile than when I last saw him.
I thanked him, folded up the letter, and put it in my pocket. At last,
he looked at me, and a sudden flash of recollection appeared to come
across his mind.
"Well, child--so you escaped from the French prison--heh! and how's your
friend--what is his name, heh?"
"O'Brien, my lord."
"O'Brien!" cried my uncle, "he is _your_ friend; then, sir, I presume it
is you am indebted for all the inquiries and reports which are so
industriously circulated in Ireland--the tampering with my servants--and
other impertinences?"
I did not choose to deny the truth, although I was a little fluttered by
the sudden manner in which it came to light. I replied, "I never tamper
with any people's servants, sir."
"No," said he, "but you employ others so to do. I discovered the whole
of your proceedings, after the scoundrel left for England."
"If you apply the word scoundrel to Captain O'Brien, sir, in his name I
contradict it."
"As you please, sir," replied my uncle, in a passion; "but you will
oblige me by quitting this house immediately, and expect nothing more,
either from the present or the future Lord Privilege, except that
retaliation which your infamous conduct has deserved."
I felt much irritated, and replied very sharply, "From the present Lord
Privilege I certainly expect nothing more, neither do I from his
successor;--but after your death, uncle, I expect that the person who
succeeds to the title will do all he can for your humble servant. I
wish you a good morning, uncle."
My uncle's eyes flashed fire as I finished my speech, which indeed was a
very bold, and a very foolish one too, as it afterwards proved. I
hastened out of the room, not only from the fear of being turned out of
the house before all the servants, but also from the dread that my
letter to the first Lord might be taken from me by force; but I never
shall forget the scowl of vengeance which crossed my uncle's brows as I
turned round and looked at him as I shut the door. I found my way out
without the assistance of the servants, and hastened home as fast as I
could.
"O'Brien," said I, on my return, "there is no time to be lost; the
sooner you hasten to town with this letter of introduction, the better
it will be, for depend upon it my uncle will do me all the harm that he
can." I then repeated to him all that had passed, and it was agreed,
that O'Brien should take the letter, which having reference to the
bearer, would do as well for him as for me; and, if O'Brien obtained on
appointment, I was sure not only of being one of his lieutenants, but
also of sailing with a dear friend. The next morning, O'Brien set off
for London, and fortunately saw the First Lord the day after his
arrival, which was a _levee_ day. The First Lord received the letter
from O'Brien, and requested him to sit down. He then read it, inquired
after his lordship, asked whether his health was good, etc.
O'Brien replied that, "with the blessing of God, his lordship might live
many years: that he had never heard him complain of ill health." All
which was not false, if not true. I could not help observing to
O'Brien, when he returned home and told me what had passed, that "I
thought, considering what he had expressed with respect to white lies
and black lies, that he had not latterly adhered to his own creed."
"That's very true, Peter; and I've thought of it myself, but it is my
creed nevertheless. We all know what's right, but we don't always
follow it. The fact is, I begin to think that it is absolutely
necessary to fight the world with it own weapons. I spoke to Father
McGrath on the subject, and he replied, `That if any one, by doing
wrong, necessitated another to do wrong to circumvent him, that the
first party was answerable, not only for his own sin, but also for the
sin committed in self-defence.'"
"But O'Brien, I do not fix my faith so implicitly upon Father McGrath;
and I do not much admire many of his directions."
"No more do I, Peter, when I think upon them; but how am I to puzzle my
head upon these points? All I know is, that when you are divided
between your inclination and your duty, it's mighty convenient to have a
priest like Father McGrath to decide for you, and to look after your
soul into the bargain."
It occurred to me, that I myself, when finding fault with O'Brien, had,
in the instance of both the letters from Lord Privilege, been also
guilty of deceit. I was therefore blaming him for the same fault
committed by myself; and I am afraid that I was too ready in consoling
myself with Father McGrath's maxim, "That one might do evil, that good
might come." But to return to O'Brien's interview.
After some little conversation, the First Lord said, "Captain O'Brien, I
am always very ready to oblige Lord Privilege, and the more so as his
recommendation is of an officer of your merit. In a day or two, if you
will call at the Admiralty, you will hear further." O'Brien wrote to us
immediately, and we waited with impatience for his next letter; but
instead of this letter, he made his appearance on the third day, and
first hugging me in his arms, he then came to my sister, embraced her,
and skipped and danced about the room.
"What is the matter, O'Brien?" said I, while Ellen retreated in
confusion.
O'Brien pulled a parchment out of his pocket. "Here, Peter, my dear
Peter; now for honour and glory. An eighteen-gun brig, Peter. The
_Rattlesnake_--Captain O'Brien--West India station. By the holy father!
my heart's bursting with joy," and down he sank into an easy chair
"A'n't I almost beside myself?" inquired he, after a short pause.
"Ellen thinks so, I daresay," replied I, looking at my sister, who stood
in a corner of the room, thinking O'Brien was really out of his senses,
and still red with confusion.
O'Brien, who then called to mind what a slip of decorum he had been
guilty of, immediately rose, and resuming his usual unsophisticated
politeness, as he walked up to my sister, took her hand and said,
"Excuse me, my dear Miss Ellen: I must apologise for my rudeness; but my
delight was so great and my gratitude to your brother so intense, that I
am afraid that in my warmth, I allowed the expressions of my feelings to
extend to one so dear to him, and so like him in person and in mind.
Will you only consider that you received the overflowings of a grateful
heart towards your brother, and for his sake pardon my indiscretion?"
Ellen smiled, and held out her hand to O'Brien, who led her to the sofa,
where we all three sat down: and O'Brien commenced a more intelligible
narrative of what had passed. He had called on the day appointed, and
sent up his card. The First Lord could not see him, but referred him to
the private secretary, who presented him with his commission to the
_Rattlesnake_, eighteen-gun brig. The secretary smiled most graciously,
and told O'Brien in confidence, that he would proceed to the West India
station as soon as his vessel was manned and ready for sea. He inquired
of O'Brien whom he wished as his first lieutenant. O'Brien replied that
he wished for me; but as, in all probability, I should not be of
sufficient standing to be first lieutenant, that the Admiralty might
appoint any other to the duty, provided I joined the ship. The
secretary made a minute of O'Brien's wish, and requested him, if he had
a vacancy to spare as midshipman, to allow him to send one on board; to
which O'Brien willingly acceded, shook hands with him, and O'Brien
quitted the Admiralty to hasten down to us with the pleasing
intelligence.
"And now," said O'Brien, "I have made up my mind how to proceed. I
shall first run down to Plymouth and hoist my pennant; then I shall ask
for a fortnight's leave, and go to Ireland to see how they get on, and
what Father McGrath may be about. So, Peter, let's pass this evening as
happily as we can: for though you and I shall soon meet again, yet it
may be years, or perhaps never, that we three shall sit down on the same
sofa as we do now."
Ellen, who was still nervous from the late death of my mother, looked
down, and I perceived the tears start in her eyes at the remark of
O'Brien, that perhaps we should never meet again. And I did pass a
happy evening: my father dined out, and did not interrupt us. I had a
dear sister on one side of me, and a sincere friend on the other. How
few situations more enviable.
O'Brien left us early the next morning, and, at breakfast time, a letter
was handed to my father. It was from my uncle, coldly communicating to
him that Lord Privilege had died the night before very suddenly, and
informing him that the burial would take place on that day week, and
that the will would be opened immediately after the funeral. My father
handed the letter over to me without saying a word, and sipped his tea
with his tea-spoon. I cannot say that I felt very much on the occasion;
but I did feel, because he had been kind to me at one time: as for my
father's feelings, I could not--or rather I should say, I did not wish
to analyse them. As soon as he had finished his cup of tea, he left the
breakfast-table, and went into his study. I then communicated the
intelligence to my sister Ellen.
"My God!" said she, after a pause, putting her hand up to her eyes,
"what a strange, unnatural state of society must we have arrived at when
my father can thus receive the intelligence of a parent's death. Is it
not dreadful?"
"It is, my dearest girl," replied I; "but every feeling has been
sacrificed to worldly considerations and an empty name. The younger
sons have been neglected, if not deserted. Virtue, talent, everything
set at naught--intrinsic value despised--and the only claim to
consideration admitted, that of being the heir entail. When all the
ties of nature are cast loose by the parents, can you be surprised if
the children are no longer bound by them? Most truly do you observe,
that it is a detestable state of society."
"I did not say detestable, brother; I said strange and unnatural."
"Had you said what I said, Ellen, you would not have been wrong. I
would not, for the title and wealth which it brings, be the heartless,
isolated, I may say neglected, being that my grandfather was: were it
offered now, I would not barter for it Ellen's love."
Ellen threw herself in my arms; we then walked into the garden, where we
had a long conversation relative to our future wishes, hopes and,
prospects.