It was a beautiful day, as lovely as any an indulgent Providence had
ever bestowed upon an unthankful generation.
Although I wished I had had an hour or two to spend with Mary
wandering up and down that green alley through which we had rushed
with such indecent haste, all because two aged and angry members of
the nobility might have come upon us, yet I walked through the streets
of London as if I trod on the air, and not on the rough cobble-stones
of the causeway. It seemed as if I had suddenly become a boy again,
and yet with all the strength and vigour of a man, and I was hard put
to it not to shout aloud in the sunlight, or to slap on the back the
slow and solemn Englishmen I met, who looked as if they had never
laughed in their lives. Sure it's a very serious country, this same
land of England, where their dignity is so oppressive that it bows
down head and shoulders with thinking how grand they are; and yet I'll
say nothing against them, for it was an Englishwoman that made me feel
like a balloon. Pondering over the sobriety of the nation, I found
myself in the shadow of a great church, and, remembering what my dear
Mary had said, I turned and went in through the open door, with my
hat in my hand. It was a great contrast to the bright sunlight I had
left, and to the busy streets with their holiday-making people. There
were only a few scattered here and there in the dim silence of the
church, some on their knees, some walking slowly about on tiptoe, and
some seated meditating in chairs. No service was going forward, so I
knelt down in the chapel of Saint Patrick himself; I bowed my head and
thanked God for the day and for the blessing that had come with it. As
I said, I was like a boy again, and to my lips, too long held from
them, came the prayers that had been taught me. I was glad I had not
forgotten them, and I said them over and over with joy in my heart. As
I raised my head, I saw standing and looking at me a priest, and,
rising to my feet, I made my bow to him, and he came forward,
recognizing me before I recognized him.
"O'Ruddy," he said, "if you knew the joy it gives to my old heart to
meet you in this sacred place and in that devout attitude, it would
bring some corresponding happiness to yourself."
"Now by the piper that played before Moses, Father Donovan, and is
this yourself? Sure I disrecognized you, coming into the darkness, and
me just out of the glare beyond,"--and I took his hand in both of mine
and shook it with a heartiness he had not met since he left the old
turf. "Sure and there's no one I'd rather meet this day than
yourself,"--and with that I dropped on one knee and asked for his
blessing on me and mine.
As we walked out of the church together, his hand resting on my
shoulder, I asked how such a marvel came to pass as Father Donovan,
who never thought to leave Ireland, being here in London. The old man
said nothing till we were down the steps, and then he told me what had
happened.
"You remember Patsy O'Gorman," he said.
"I do that," I replied, "and an old thief of the world and a
tight-fisted miser he is."
"Whist," said Father Donovan, quietly crossing himself. "O'Gorman is
dead and buried."
"Do you tell me that!" said I, "then rest his soul. He would be a warm
man and leave more money than my father did, I'm thinking."
"Yes, he left some money, and to me he left three hundred pounds, with
the request that I should accomplish the desire of my life and take
the pilgrimage to Rome."
"The crafty old chap, that same bit of bequestration will help him
over many a rough mile in purgatory."
"Ah, O'Ruddy, it's not our place to judge. They gave a harder name to
O'Gorman than he deserved. Just look at your own case. The stories
that have come back to Ireland, O'Ruddy, just made me shiver. I heard
that you were fighting and brawling through England, ready to run
through any man that looked cross-eyed at you. They said that you had
taken up with a highwayman; that you spent your nights in drink and
breathing out smoke; and here I find you, a proper young man, doing
credit to your country, meeting you, not in a tavern, but on your
knees with bowed head in the chapel of Saint Patrick, giving the lie
to the slanderer's tongue."
The good old man stopped in our walk, and with tears in his eyes shook
hands with me again, and I had not the heart to tell him the truth.
"Ah well," I said, "Father Donovan, I suppose nobody, except yourself,
is quite as good as he thinks, and nobody, including myself, is as bad
as he appears to be. And now, Father Donovan, where are you stopping,
and how long will you be in London?"
"I am stopping with an old college friend, who is a priest in the
church where I found you. I expect to leave in a few days' time and
journey down to the seaport of Rye, where I am to take ship that will
land me either in Dunkirk or in Calais. From there I am to make my way
to Rome as best I can."
"And are you travelling alone?"
"I am that, although, by the blessing of God, I have made many friends
on the journey, and every one I met has been good to me."
"Ah, Father Donovan, you couldn't meet a bad man if you travelled the
world over. Sure there's some that carry such an air of blessedness
with them that every one they meet must, for very shame, show the best
of his character. With me it's different, for it seems that where
there's contention I am in the middle of it, though, God knows, I'm a
man of peace, as my father was before me."
"Well," said Father Donovan slowly, but with a sweet smile on his lip,
"I suppose the O'Ruddys were always men of peace, for I've known them
before now to fight hard enough to get it."
The good father spoke a little doubtfully, as if he were not quite
approving of our family methods, but he was a kindly man who always
took the most lenient view of things. He walked far with me, and then
I turned and escorted him to the place where he resided, and, bidding
good-bye, got a promise from him that he would come to the "Pig and
Turnip" a day later and have a bite and sup with me, for I thought
with the assistance of the landlord I could put a very creditable meal
before him, and Father Donovan was always one that relished his meals,
and he enjoyed his drink too, although he was set against too much of
it. He used to say, "It's a wise drinker that knows when geniality
ends and hostility begins, and it's just as well to stop before you
come to the line."
With this walking to and fro the day was near done with when I got
back to the "Pig and Turnip" and remembered that neither a bit of pig
nor a bit of turnip had I had all that long day, and now I was
ravenous. I never knew anything make me forget my appetite before; but
here had I missed my noonday meal, and not in all my life could I
overtake it again. Sure there was many an experience crowded together
in that beautiful Sunday, so, as I passed through the entrance to the
inn I said to the obsequious landlord:
"For the love of Heaven, get placed on my table all you have in the
house that's fit to eat, and a trifle of a bottle or two, to wash it
down with."
So saying, I passed up the creaking old oaken stair and came to my
room, where I instantly remembered there was something else I had
forgotten. As I opened the door there came a dismal groan from Paddy,
and something that sounded like a wicked oath from Jem Bottles. Poor
lads! that had taken such a beating that day, such a cudgelling for my
sake; and here I stood at my own door in a wonder of amazement, and
something of fright, thinking I had heard a banshee wail. The two
misused lads had slipped out of my memory as completely as the devil
slipped off Macgillicuddy Reeks into the pond beneath when Saint
Patrick had sent the holy words after him.
"Paddy," said I, "are you hurted? Where is it you're sore?"
"Is it sore?" he groaned. "Except the soles of my feet, which they
couldn't hit with me kickin' them, there isn't an inch of me that
doesn't think it's worse hurted than the rest."
"It's sorry I am to hear that," I replied, quite truthfully, "and you,
Jem, how did you come off?"
"Well, I gave a better account of myself than Paddy here, for I made
most of them keep their distance from me; but him they got on the turf
before you could say Watch me eye, and the whole boiling of them was
on top of him in the twinkling of the same."
"The whole boiling of them?" said I, as if I knew nothing of the
occurrence, "then there was more than Strammers to receive you?"
"More!" shouted Jem Bottles, "there was forty if there was one."
Paddy groaned again at the remembrance, and moaned out:
"The whole population of London was there, and half of it on top of me
before I could wink. I thought they would strip the clothes off me,
and they nearly did it."
"And have you been here alone ever since? Have you had nothing to eat
or drink since you got back?"
"Oh," said Jem, "we had too much attention in the morning, and too
little as the day went on. We were expecting you home, and so took the
liberty of coming up here and waiting for you, thinking you might be
good enough to send out for some one who would dress our wounds; but
luckily that's not needed now."
"Why is it not needed?" I asked. "I'll send at once.
"Oh, no," moaned Paddy, "there was one good friend that did not forget
us."
"Well," said Jem, "he seemed mighty afeerd of coming in. I suppose he
thought it was on his advice that we went where we did, and he was
afeerd we thought badly of him for it; but of course we had no blame
to put on the poor little man."
"In Heaven's name, who are you talking of?" said I.
"Doctor Chord," answered Jem. "He put his head inside the door and
inquired for us, and inquired specially where you were; but that, of
course, we couldn't tell him. He was very much put out to find us
mis-handled, and he sent us some tankards of beer, which are now
empty, and we're waiting for him because he promised to come back and
attend to our injuries."
"Then you didn't see Doctor Chord in the gardens?"
"In what gardens?" asked Bottles.
"You didn't see him among that mob that set on you?"
"No fear," said Jem, "wherever there is a scrimmage Doctor Chord will
keep away from it."
"Indeed and in that you're wrong," said I. "Doctor Chord has been the
instigator of everything that has happened, and he stood in the
background and helped to set them on."
Paddy sat up with wild alarm in his eyes.
"Sure, master," says he, "how could you see through so thick a wall as
that?"
"I did not see through the wall at all; I was in the house. When you
went through the back door, I went through the front gate, and what I
am telling you is true. Doctor Chord is the cause of the whole
commotion. That's why he was afraid to come in the room. He thought
perhaps you had seen him, and, finding you had not, he'll be back here
again when everything is over. Doctor Chord is a traitor, and you may
take my word for that."
Paddy rose slowly to his feet, every red hair in his head bristling
with scorn and indignation; but as he stood erect he put his hand to
his side and gave a howl as he limped a step or two over the floor.
"The black-hearted villain," he muttered through his teeth. "I'll have
his life."
"You'll have nothing of the sort," said I, "and we'll get some good
attendance out of him, for he's a skillful man. When he has done his
duty in repairing what he has inflicted upon you, then you can give
him a piece of your mind."
"I'll give him a piece of my boot; all that's left of it," growled Jem
Bottles, scowling.
"You may take your will of him after he has put some embrocation on
your bruises," said I; and as I was speaking there came a timorous
little knock at the door.
"Come in," I cried, and after some hesitation the door opened, and
there stood little Doctor Chord with a big bottle under his arm. I was
glad there was no supper yet on the table, for if there had been I
must have asked the little man to sit down with me, and that he would
do without a second's hesitation, so I could not rightly see him
maltreated who had broken a crust with me.
He paid no attention to Jem or Paddy at first, but kept his cunning
little eye on me.
"And where have you been to-day, O'Ruddy?" he asked.
"Oh," said I, "I accompanied these two to the door in the wall, and
when they got through I heard yells fit to make a hero out of a
nigger; but you know how stout the bolts are and I couldn't get to
them, so I had just to go out of hearing of their bellowings. On the
way back I happened to meet an old friend of mine, Father Donovan,
and--"
Here Paddy, forgetting his good manners, shouted out:
"Thank God there's a holy father in this hole of perdition; for I know
I'm goin' t' die to-morrow at the latest."
"Stop your nonsense," said I. "You'll have to hold on to life at least
a day longer; for the good father is not coming here until two days
are past. You're more frightened than hurt, and the Doctor here has a
lotion that will make you meet the priest as a friend and not as a
last counsellor."
"As I was saying, Doctor Chord, I met Father Donovan, and we strolled
about the town, so that I have only now just come in. The father is a
stranger in London, on a pilgrimage to Rome. And sure I had to show
him the sights."
"It was a kindly action of you," said Doctor Chord, pulling the cork
of the medicine-bottle. "Get those rags off," he called to Paddy,
"and I'll rub you down as if you were the finest horse that ever
followed the hounds."
There was a great smell of medicine in the air as he lubricated Paddy
over the bruised places; then Jem Bottles came under his hands, and
either he was not so much hurt as Paddy was, or he made less fuss
about it, for he glared at the Doctor all the time he was attending
him, and said nothing.
It seemed an inhospitable thing to misuse a man who had acted the good
Samaritan so arduously as the little Doctor with three quarters of his
bottle gone, but as he slapped the cork in it again I stepped to the
door and turned the key. Paddy was scowling now and then, and groaning
now and again, when the cheerful Doctor said to him, as is the way
with physicians when they wish to encourage a patient:
"Oh, you're not hurt nearly as bad as you think you are. You'll be a
little sore and stiff in the morning, that's all, and I'll leave the
bottle with you."
"You've never rubbed me at all on the worst place," said Paddy
angrily.
"Where was that?" asked Doctor Chord,--and the words were hardly out
of his mouth when Paddy hit him one in the right eye that sent him
staggering across the room.
"There's where I got the blow that knocked me down," cried Paddy.
Doctor Chord threw a wild glance at the door, when Jem Bottles, with a
little run and a lift of his foot, gave him one behind that caused the
Doctor to turn a somersault.
"Take that, you thief," said Jem; "and now you've something that
neither of us got, because we kept our faces to the villains that set
on us."
Paddy made a rush, but I cried:
"Don't touch the man when he's down."
"Sure," says Paddy, "that's when they all fell on me."
"Never strike a man when he's down," I cried.
"Do ye mean to say we shouldn't hit a man when he's down?" asked Jem
Bottles.
"You knew very well you shouldn't," I told him. "Sure you've been in
the ring before now."
"That I have," shouted Bottles, pouncing on the unfortunate Doctor. He
grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and flung him to his feet, then
gave him a bat on the side of the head that sent him reeling up toward
the ceiling again.
"That's enough, Jem," I cautioned him.
"I'm not only following the Doctor," said Jem, "but I'm following the
Doctor's advice. He told us to take a little gentle exercise and it
would allay the soreness."
"The exercise you're taking will not allay the soreness on the
Doctor's part. Stop it, Jem! Now leave him alone, Paddy; he's had
enough to remember you by, and to learn that the way of the traitor is
the rocky road to Dublin. Come now, Doctor, the door is open; get out
into the passage as quick as you can, and I hope you have another
bottle of that excellent lotion at home."
The threatening attitude of both Jem and Paddy seemed to paralyse the
little man with fear, and he lay on the boards glaring up at them with
terror in his eyes.
"I'm holding the door open for you," said I, "and remember I may not
be able to hold Paddy and Jem as easily as I hold the door; so make
your escape before they get into action again."
Doctor Chord rolled himself over quickly, but, not daring to get on
his feet, trotted out into the passage like a big dog on his hands and
knees; and just then a waiter, coming up with a tray and not counting
on this sudden apparition in the hallway, fell over him; and if it
were not for my customary agility and presence of mind in grasping the
broad metal server, a good part of my supper would have been on the
floor. The waiter luckily leaned forward when he found himself
falling, holding the tray high over his head, and so, seizing it, I
saved the situation and the supper.
"What are ye grovelling down there for, ye drunken beast?" shouted the
angry waiter, as he came down with a thud. "Why don't you walk on your
two feet like a Christian?"
Doctor Chord took the hint and his departure, running along the
passage and stumbling down the stairway like a man demented. When he
got down into the courtyard he shook his fist at my window and swore
he would have the law of us; but I never saw the little man again,
although Paddy and Jem were destined to meet him once more, as I shall
tell later on.
The supper being now laid, I fell at it and I dis-remember having ever
enjoyed a meal more in my life. I sent Paddy and Jem to their quarters
with food and a bottle of good wine to keep them company, and I think
they deserved it, for they said the lotion the Doctor had put on the
outside of them was stinging, so they thought there should be
something in the inside to counteract the inconvenience.
I went to sleep the moment I touched the pillow, and dreamed I was in
the most umbrageous lover's walk that ever was, overhung with green
branches through which the sunlight flickered, and closed in with
shrubbery. There I chased a flying nymph that always just eluded me,
laughing at me over her shoulder and putting her finger to her lips,
and at last, when I caught her, it turned out to be Doctor Chord,
whereupon I threw him indignantly into the bushes, and then saw to my
dismay it was the Countess. She began giving her opinion of me so
vigorously that I awoke and found it broad daylight.