Down in the valley squirrels were busy climbing the hazel trees;
rabbits made bold and ventured from their hiding places to gambol in
the autumnal sunshine; weasels sported among the ferns; birds sang and
insects buzzed, while nature looked on and smiled. Larch, birch, oak,
and sycamore were altogether mingled, and perfect harmony there was in
bower and hedgerow. Everybody came to the valley and everybody enjoyed
coming, because there was no place like it. There was no color that
you could not find there; but if you searched all day and all night
too, only one house could you find in all its leafy splendor. Nor was
it a large house. Just two stories high, with medium-sized windows
below and small dormer windows on top. The roof was made of thatch,
and the thatch, from being bleached in the sun, had turned to a
golden hue. The walls, no one could tell what they were made of,
so well were they covered with ivy and other green creepers. In the
garden in front there were roses, pinks, and geraniums; and in the
garden behind, nasturtiums, money-musk, and golden feather grew on a
rockery made of large stones that were brought from Conlan's Strand,
where the children of Lir (before they became swans) used to play
and watch the great ships sailing over the seas. It was a beautiful
place to live, was this house, and whosoever looked upon it never
forgot the house in the valley.
"This is a wonderful place, surely!" said a stranger, as he looked
down from a crag and surveyed the winding valley beneath.
"A more wonderful place you could not find in a lifetime," responded
Micus Pat, as he lit his pipe.
"I believe you," said the stranger. "Sure, 'tis ten years of my life
I'd give to own that house," as he pointed to where blue smoke was
curling skywards. "Who built it at all, I'd like to know?"
"Sit down there," said Micus Pat, as he pointed to a fallen tree,
"and I'll tell you."
And this is what he told:
"Well, it all happened when His Royal Highness the Czar of Russia
came on a visit to the Mayor of Cahermore."
"That must have been a long time ago," interrupted the stranger.
"Of course it was," said Micus. "But, as I was saying, when His Royal
Highness came to the town, there was great excitement entirely. Every
man, woman, and child put on their Sunday clothes, and never before
nor since was there such eating and drinking, nor such dancing and
singing. Flags were flying from the windows and the housetops, and
the birds in the cages and the birds in the trees sang until they
got so hoarse that they couldn't sing any more. The Czar himself was
delighted, and some say that he grew two inches taller from all he
had seen: but he wasn't much of a man at that. He was just an inch or
so bigger than yourself, and maybe a bit better looking, but who'd
be boasting about such things, anyway? Well, though the Czar was
neither big nor small, good looking nor bad looking, all the Grand
Dukes and Grand Duchesses were the sight of the world. They too were
delighted with themselves and everybody else, and all went well until
the Czar was making his speech, and Bryan O'Loughlin taking it down
in shorthand."
"What did he want taking down the speech for?" said the stranger.
"I'm surprised at your ignorance," said Micus. "Sure you ought to
know that the Czar gets all his speeches printed and gives them to
his children to read during the cold wintry nights in Russia. There's
so much frost and snow there that His Royal Highness never leaves his
children run about the roads to warm themselves, like other children,
for fear of their getting chilblains and toothaches."
"He must be a good father, then," said the stranger.
"Of course he is," said Micus, and he proceeded. "Well, the speech was
wonderfully worded and loudly applauded, and nearly ended, when a loud
report rang out like as if some one was trying to blow up the world--"
"The Lord save us!" said the stranger.
"Amen!" said Micus. "And when the silence was resumed, some one
shouted at the top of his voice. 'Anarchists! Anarchists! Anarchists!'"
"What is an anarchist?" asked the stranger.
"An anarchist," answered Micus, "is one who don't know what's the
matter with himself or the world, and cares as little about his own
life as he does about any one else's."
"There are a lot of fools in the world, I'm thinking," said the
stranger.
"There are, thank God," replied Micus. "Well, as true as I'm telling
you, every one in the place took to their heels when the great noise
came, except Bryan O'Loughlin and the Czar himself. And if you looked
out through the windows of the Town Hall, you'd see for miles and miles
and miles along the roads nothing but Grand Dukes and fair ladies,
soldiers and sailors, and they flying helter-skelter as though the
Devil, or Cromwell himself, was after them."
"And what did the Czar himself say?" queried the stranger.
"'The pusillanimous varmints,' ses he, as he trod the floor with
disdain; and then, lo and behold! another blast rang out, and the
Czar with all his swords and medals fell into Bryan's arms, and cried
out! 'I'm a dead man,' ses he. 'Bury me with my mother's people!'
"But he was no more dead than myself, for he only stepped on a blank
cartridge which was dropped by some of the Grand Dukes in the scrummage
for the doors--and that's what nearly took the senses from His Royal
Highness the Czar of Russia.
"Well, when he came to himself some time after, he ses to Bryan:
'You're a brave man,' ses he, 'and you must be rewarded for your
valor,' and Bryan felt as proud as the Duke of Wellington and he after
putting the comether on poor Napoleon; and to show how little he cared
for danger, he trod on every cartridge he saw on the floor, and if you
were there you'd think 'twas at the battle of Vinegar Hill you were.
"'Be careful,' ses the Czar, 'one of them cartridges might be loaded. I
can see you are a brave man' (and he was too, for he was married
three times, and he a widower, and he but three and thirty). 'There's
nothing like discretion,' ses the Czar, 'if you want to keep alive
and out of trouble.'
"'I'm afraid of nothing,' ses Bryan. 'And I'll always befriend a
stranger in a foreign country.'
"And when the Czar heard that, he ses: 'Bryan O'Loughlin of Cahermore,
come here to me,' and Bryan came. 'Sit down there,' ses he, 'while
I fill my pipe,' and when his pipe was filled, he up and ses, as
he drew a lot of photographs from his pocket: 'These are my seven
daughters,' ses he, and Bryan was delighted and surprised, so he ses:
'And is their mother living too?' 'She is, indeed,' says the Czar,
and without saying another word he pulls her photograph out of another
pocket, and when Bryan sees it, he ses: ''Pon my word, she's a fine,
decent, grauver looking woman, and I wouldn't mind having her for a
mother myself, only she looks too like a protestant.'
"'She was the Duchess of Skatchachivouchi,' ses the Czar.
"'Is that so? Well, then, she comes of a real decent family,'
ses Bryan.
"'Now,' ses the Czar, 'I want to reward you for your wonderful courage,
so you can have your choice of my seven daughters,' ses he, 'and I'll
make you Duke of Siberia besides.'
"But Bryan neither hummed nor hawed, and only asked him for the fill
of his pipe, and when both were puffing away together, ses Bryan to
the Czar: 'I can see you are a decent man, and I must thank you for
your kindness, and indeed I must say also that your daughters are
fine respectable-looking young women, and I'm sure that they would
make good wives if they were well looked after. But I promised my
last wife, and she on her dying bed, that I would never marry any
one again but the King of Spain's daughter.'
"And when he had all that said, the Czar looked very sad, and turned
as pale as a ghost, and all he said was: 'Well, I couldn't do any
more for you,' and then ses he: 'Is there any place down here where
we can have a drink?'
"'There is,' said Bryan, 'down in the glen at the Fox and Hounds.'
"So off they marched together, and after they treated each other to
three halfs of whiskey each, the Czar looked very tired and forlorn,
and said, as they made a short cut through St. Kevin's boreen, and
observed the clouds of night coming on from east and west, and south
and north, and not a friend nor an enemy in sight: 'Well,' ses he,
'how the devil am I to reach the shore in safety? I'm a mighty monarch,
and I must have a bodyguard.'
"To all this, and more besides, Bryan listened, but never a word
did he say until he smoked nearly all the Czar's tobacco, and burnt
all his matches; and then all of a sudden he ses, 'Leave it to me,'
ses he. 'I can get you a bodyguard.'
"'I wouldn't doubt you,' ses the Czar, as he slipped him a guinea. 'You
can have this,' ses he, 'as you wouldn't have any of my daughters
and be made the Duke of Siberia. But we'll none the less be friends,'
ses he. 'Life is a tragedy or a comedy according to the way you look
at it.'
"'The world's a stage,' says Bryan, 'but most of the actors don't
know how to act: they are only supers at best!'
"'That's so,' ses the Czar. 'But what about my bodyguard?'
"'I'm thinking of it,' ses Bryan. 'Do you know my brother Larry?'
"'No,' says the Czar, 'the pleasure isn't mine.
"'Well, he's a second corporal in the Ballygarvan Lancers, and he's
a great friend of the sergeant's, and between us I think we can find
a bodyguard.'
"And as true as I'm telling you, after supper that night the Czar of
Russia marched through the streets of Cahermore with a bodyguard of
the Ballygarvan Lancers behind and before him, and Bryan out in front
leading the way, with a gun on his shoulder and a sword by his side,
and everybody taking off their hats to him as he passed."
"And what happened to the Czar?" inquired the stranger.
"He went on board his warship and sacked all his generals, admirals,
and Grand Dukes, and when he went back to Russia, he sent over his
architect and masons to build a house for Bryan, and that's the house
in the valley beyond."
"And was that the end of Bryan O'Loughlin and the Czar of Russia?"
"No," answered Micus. "Every Christmas his Royal Highness used to
send Bryan Christmas cards from himself and the wife and children,
and a box of blessed candles besides, and a bag of birdseed for the
linnets, and sweetpea seed for the garden also; and there was no
happier man in the whole world than Bryan till the day he died. And
that's the end of my story."
"I think 'tis time to be going home now," said the stranger. "The
swallows are flying low, and night will be overtaking me before I
will be over the mountain."
"Don't get wet, whatever you do," said Micus. "It's bad for the
rheumatics."