CHAPTER XII

ONE TOO MANY

At breakfast, for an old soldier, the General showed considerable want

of military skill. Miss Douglas, indeed, assumed an admirable position

of defence, flanked by Norah Macormac on one side, and the corner

of the table on the other; but her admirer, posting himself exactly

opposite, never took his eyes off her face, handed her everything he

could reach, and made himself foolishly conspicuous in paying her those

attentions to which ladies do not object so much as they profess. Like

many other players, he lost his head when risking a large stake.

Had he cared less, he would have remembered that wisest of all maxims

in dealing with others--"_Il faut se faire valoir_," and she might

have appreciated his good qualities all the more, to mark the esteem

in which he was held by her own sex. The General could fix a woman's

attention, could even excite her interest, when he chose; and many

of these laughing dames would have asked no better cavalier for the

approaching races than this handsome, war-worn veteran, who "made such

a fool of himself about that tall girl with black hair!"

Breakfast in a country house is usually a protracted and elastic meal.

The "jackeens," whose habits were tolerably active, came down in

good time, but the London young gentlemen dropped in, one later than

another, gorgeously apparelled, cool, composed, hungry, obviously proud

of being up and dressed at eleven o'clock, A.M.

Miss Norah whispered to Satanella that "she didn't like dandies, and

dandies didn't like _her_!"

Looking in the girl's bright, handsome face, the latter proposition

seemed to Miss Douglas wholly untenable.

"What sort of people _do_ you like, dear?" said she, in answer to the

former.

"The army," replied Miss Norah, with great animation. "And the cavalry,

ye know--they're beautiful; but a man must have something besides a

fine uniform to please _me_."

"What more _can_ you want?" asked Blanche, with a smile.

"Well, a good seat on his horse, now," laughed the other, "that's

the first thing, surely, and a good temper, and a good nerve, and a

pleasant smile in his face, when everything goes wrong."

"You're thinking of somebody in particular," said Blanche.

"I am," answered Miss Norah boldly, though with a rising blush. "I'm

thinking of somebody I should wish my brothers to be like--that I

should wish to be like myself. He's never puzzled; he's never put out.

Let the worst happen that will, he knows what to do, and how to do

it--a fair face, a brave spirit, and a kind heart!"

She raised her voice, for the subject seemed to interest her deeply.

Some of the guests looked up from their breakfasts, and the General

listened with a smile.

"It sounds charming," remarked Miss Douglas. "A hero--a paladin, and a

very nice person into the bargain. I should like immensely to see him."

"Would ye now?" said the Irish girl. "And so ye shall, dear. He'll be

at the races to-morrow. Ye'll see him ride. I'll engage he'll come to

the Ladies' Stand. Say the word, and I'll introduce him to ye myself."

"Is he an Irishman?" asked Miss Douglas, amused with her animated

manner and perfect good faith.

"An Irishman!" exclaimed Norah. "Did ever ye hear of Walters for an

Irishman's name? They call him Daisy that know him best, though mamma

says I am never to mention him, only as Captain Walters."

The shot was quite unexpected, but Blanche knew the General's eye was

on her, and she neither started nor winced. Scarcely even changed

countenance, except that she turned a shade paler, and looked sternly

in her admirer's face while he carried on the conversation.

"Not Captain Walters _yet_, Miss Macormac," said the old soldier

stiffly. "First for a troop though, and one going immediately. I know

him very well, but never heard so flattering an account of him before.

What a thing it is to have a charming young lady for a partisan! _We_

think him a good-humoured rattle enough, and he can ride, to do him

justice, but surely--eh?--there's not much _in_ him. Miss Douglas here

sees him oftener than I do, what does _she_ say?"

"A pleasant companion, quite as clever as other people, and a right

good fellow!" burst out Blanche, her dark eyes flashing defiance.

"That's what _she_ says, General! And what's more, she always stands up

for her friends, and _hates_ people who abuse them!"

The General, though he opened his mouth, was stricken dumb. Norah

Macormac clapped her hands, and Mrs. Lushington, looking calmly down

the table, afforded the discomfited soldier a sweet and reassuring

smile.

Lady Mary, reviewing her guests from behind an enormous tea-urn, judged

the moment had arrived for a general move, and rose accordingly. As,

late in the autumn, coveys get up all over the ground when you flush a

single bird, so the whole party followed her example, and made for the

door, which was opened by St. Josephs, who sought in vain a responsive

glance from Miss Douglas while she passed out, with her head up, and, a

sure sign she was offended, more swing than usual in the skirts of her

dress. He consoled himself by resolving that, if the weather cleared,

he would ask her to take a walk, and so make friends before luncheon.

Gleams of sunshine sucking up a mist that hung about the hills above

the park, disclosing like islands on a lake, clumps of trees, and

patches of verdure, in the valley below, glittering on the surface of a

wide and shallow river that circled and broke, over its rocky bed, in

ripples of molten gold, would have seemed favourable to his project,

but that the fine weather which might enable him to walk abroad with

his ladye-love, was welcomed by his host for the promotion of a hundred

schemes of amusement to while away a non-hunting day after the shooting

season had closed.

"It's fairing fast enough," exclaimed the cheerful old man. "We call

that a bright sky in Ireland, and why not? Annyhow it's a great light

to shoot a match at the pigeons; and if ye'd like to wet a line in the

Dabble there, I'll engage ye'll raise a ten-pound fish before ye'd say

'Paddy Snap.'"

"I'll go bail ye will!" assented a Mr. Murphy, called by his familiars,

"Mick," who made a point of agreeing with his host. "I seen them rising

yesterday afternoon as thick as payse, an' me riding by without so much

as a lash-whip in me hand."

Two of the party, confirmed anglers, proposed to start forthwith.

"There's a colt by Lord George I'd like ye to look at, General,"

continued Macormac, who would have each amuse himself in his own way.

"We're training him for the hunt next season, and a finer leaper wasn't

bred in Kildare. D'ye see that sunk fence now parting the flower

garden from the demesne? It's not two years old he was when he broke

loose from the paddock, and dashed out over it like a wild deer.

There's five-and-twenty feet, bank and ditch, ye can measure it for

yourself!"

"Thirty! if there's wan!" assented Mr. Murphy. "An' him flyin' over it

in his stride, an' niver laid an iron to the sod!"

The General, however, declined an inspection of this promising animal,

on the plea that he was not much of a walker, and had letters to write.

"The post's gone out this hour and more," said his host. "But ye'd like

to ride now. Of course ye would! See, Mick! Sullivan's harriers will be

at the kennel as usual. Wait till I tell ye. Why, wouldn't the boys get

a fallow deer off the old park, and we'll raise a hunt for ye in less

than an hour?"

"I'll engage they can be laid on in twenty minutes from this time,"

declared Mick. "Say the word, an' I'll run round to the stable, and bid

Larry saddle up every beast that can stand."

"The General might ride Whiteboy," said his host, pondering, "and

Norah's got her own horse, and I'll try young Orville, and ye shall

take the colt yerself, Mick. We'll get a hunt, annyways!"

Mr. Murphy looked as if he would have preferred an older, or as he

termed it, "a more accomplished hunter;" but he never dreamed of

disputing the master's word, and was leaving the room in haste to

further all necessary arrangements, when St. Josephs stopped him on

the threshold.

"You'll think me very slow," said he graciously. "But the truth is, I'm

getting old and rheumatic, and altogether I feel hardly fit for the

saddle to-day. Don't let me interfere with anybody's arrangements. I'll

write my letters in the library, and then, perhaps, take a turn in the

garden with the ladies."

Mick screwed up his droll Irish mouth into a meaning but inaudible

whistle. Satisfied by the courtesy of his manner that the General was

what he called "a real gentleman," it seemed impossible such a man

could resist the temptations of a pigeon match, a salmon river, above

all, an impromptu hunt, unless he had nobler game in view. Till the old

soldier talked of "a turn in the garden with the ladies," Mr. Murphy

told himself he was "bothered entirely," but now, failing any signs

of disapproval on the master's face, felt he could agree, as was his

custom, with the last speaker.

"Why wouldn't ye?" said he encouragingly. "An' finer pleasure gardens

ye'll not see in Ireland than Macormac's. That's for cucumbers, anyhow!

An' the ladies will be proud to take a turn with ye, one and all. Divil

thank them, then, when they get a convoy to their likin'!"

So the General was allowed to follow his own devices, while his host

arranged divers amusements for the other guests according to programme,

with the exception of the deer hunt. By the time a fallow buck was

secured the hounds had been fed, and, under any circumstances, Larry,

the groom, reported so many lame horses in the stable, it would have

been impossible to mount one-half of the party in a style befitting the

occasion.

St. Josephs walked exultingly into the drawing-room, where he

discovered Lady Mary alone, stitching a flannel petticoat for an old

woman at the lodge. She thought he wanted the _Times_ newspaper, and

pointed to it on a writing-table.

"Deserted, Lady Mary?" said this crafty hunter of dames, "even by

your nearest and dearest. Left, like a good fairy, doing a work of

benevolence in solitude."

"It is the--the skirt you mean?" replied her ladyship, holding up the

garment in question without the slightest diffidence. "Sure, then, I'll

get it hemmed and done with this afternoon. I'd have asked Norah to

help me,--the child was always quick at her needle,--but she's off to

show Miss Douglas the waterfall: those two by themselves. It's as much

as they'll do to be back by luncheon; though my girl's a jewel of a

walker, and the other's as straight as an arrow, and as graceful as a

deer."

The General's letters became all at once of vital importance. Excusing

himself with extreme politeness to Lady Mary, who kept working on at

the petticoat, he hastened to the library, where he did not stay two

minutes, but, gliding by a side door into the hall, got his hat, and

emerged on the park, with a vague hope of finding some one who would

direct him to the waterfall.

The two young ladies, meanwhile, were a good Irish mile from the

castle, in an opposite direction. Norah, of course, knew a short cut

through the woods, that added about a third to the distance. They

walked a good pace, and exhilarated by the air, the scenery, and the

sound of their own fresh young voices, skipped along the path, talking,

laughing, even jeering each other, as though they had been friends from

childhood.

Their conversation, as was natural, turned on the approaching races.

To Norah Macormac, Punchestown constituted, perhaps, the chief gala of

the year. For those two days, alas! so often rainy, she reserved her

freshest gloves, her newest bonnet, her brightest glances and smiles.

To the pleasure everybody experiences in witnessing the performances

of a good horse, she added the feminine enjoyment of showing her own

pretty self in all her native attractions, set off by dress. It was no

wonder she should impart to her companion that she wouldn't give up the

races even for a trip to Paris. She calculated their delights as equal

to a whole month's hunting, and at least twenty balls.

Miss Douglas, too, anticipated no little excitement from the same

source. Her trip across the Channel, with its concomitant discipline,

a new country, wild scenery, the good humour and cordiality that

surrounded her, above all, the prospect of seeing Daisy again, had

raised her spirits far above their usual pitch. Her cheek glowed, her

eye sparkled, her tongue ran on. She could hardly believe herself the

same reserved and haughty dame who was wont to ride from Prince's Gate

to Hyde Park Corner, and find nothing worthy to cost her a sigh or win

from her a smile.

"Everybody in Ireland goes there, absentees and all," said laughing

Norah. "It's such fun, you can't think, with the different turn-outs,

from the Lord Lieutenant's half-dozen carriages-and-four to Mr.

Murphy's outside car, with Mrs. Murphy and nine children packed all

over it. She never goes anywhere else with him; but you shall see her

to-morrow in all her glory. We like to be on the course early, it's

so amusing to watch the arrivals, and then we get good places on the

Stand."

"Can you see well from the Ladies' Stand?" asked Blanche eagerly. "I'm

rather interested in one of the races. You'll think me very sporting.

I've not exactly got a horse to run, but there's a mare called

Satanella going to start, and I confess I want to see her win."

Norah bounded like a young roe. "Satanella!" she repeated. "Why, that's

Daisy's mount! It is to win, dear? Oh! then, if she doesn't win, or

come very near it, I'll be fit to cry my eyes out, and never ask to go

to a race again."

Her colour rose, her voice deepened, both gait and accent denoted the

sincerity of her good wishes; and Miss Douglas, without quite admitting

she had just cause for offence, felt as a dog feels when another dog is

sniffing round his dinner.

"I've no doubt the mare will have justice done to her," she said

severely. "He's a beautiful rider."

"A beautiful rider, and a beautiful mare entirely!" exclaimed her

impulsive companion. "Now to think he should be such a friend of yours,

and me never to know it! I can't always make him out," added Miss Norah

pondering. "Sometimes he'll speak up, and sometimes he'll keep things

back. You'll wonder to hear me when I tell you I haven't so much as

seen this mare they make such a talk about!"

"I have ridden her repeatedly," observed Miss Douglas, with a

considerable accession of dignity. "In fact, she is more mine than his,

and I had to give him leave before he ever sent her to be trained."

"Did ye, now?" replied the other, looking somewhat disconcerted. "And

does he ride often with you in London--up and down the Park, as they

call it? How I'd long for a gallop in a place like that, where they

never go out of a walk!"

Blanche was obliged to admit that such rides, though proposed

very frequently, came off but rarely, and Norah seemed in no way

dissatisfied with this confession.

"When he's here, now," she said, "if there isn't a hunt to be got up,

we gallop all over the country-side, him and me, the same as if we'd a

fox and a pack of hounds before us. It's him that taught me the real

right way to hold the bridle, and I never could manage papa's Orville

horse till he showed me how. It's not likely I'd forget anything Daisy

told me! Here we are at the waterfall. Come off the rock now, or ye'll

not have a dry thread on ye in five minutes!"

Miss Douglas, keeping back a good deal of vexation, had the good sense

to follow her guide's advice, and leaped lightly down amongst the

shingle from the broad flat rock to which she had sprung, as affording

a view of the cascade.

It was a fine sight, no doubt. Swelled by the spring rains, and

increased by many little tributaries from the neighbouring hills, a

considerable volume of water came tumbling over a ledge of bold bare

rock, to roar and brawl and circle round a basin fifty feet below, not

less than ten feet deep, from which it escaped in sheets of foam over

certain shallows, till it was lost in a black narrow gorge, crowned by

copses already budding and blooming with the first smiles of spring.

"We're mighty proud of the Dabble in these parts," observed Norah

Macormac, when she had withdrawn her friend from the showers of spray

that quivered in faint and changing rainbows under the sunshine.

"There's not such a river for fish anywhere this side the Shannon. And

where there's fish there's mostly fishers. See, now; Captain Walters

killed one of nine pounds and a half in the bend by the dead stump

there. He'd have lost him only for little Thady Brallaghan and me

hurrying to fetch the gaff, and I held it while we landed the beast on

the gravel below the rocks."

It was getting unbearable! Blanche had started in such good spirits,

full of life and hope, enjoying the air, the scenery, the exercise;

but with every word that fell from her companion's lips the landscape

faded, the skies turned grey, the very turf beneath her feet seemed

to have lost its elasticity. Norah Macormac could not but perceive

the change; attributing it, however, to fatigue, and blaming herself

severely for thus tempting a helpless London girl into an expedition

beyond her strength,--anticipating, at the same time, her mother's

displeasure for that which good Lady Mary would consider a breach of

the laws of hospitality,--"Sure ye're tired," said she, offering to

carry the other's parasol, which might have weighed a pound. "It's

myself I blame, to have brought you such a walk as this, and you not

used to it, may be, like us that live up here amongst the hills."

But Blanche clung to her parasol, and repudiated the notion of fatigue.

"She had never enjoyed a walk so much. It was lovely scenery, and a

magnificent waterfall. She had no idea there was anything so fine in

Ireland. She would have gone twice the distance to see it. Tired! She

wasn't a bit tired, and believed she might be quite as good a walker as

Miss Macormac."

There were times when Miss Douglas felt her nickname not altogether

undeserved. She became Satanella now to the core.

Luncheon was on the table when the young ladies got back to the castle,

and although several of the guests had absented themselves, the General

took his place with those who remained. St. Josephs was not in the

best of humours, for a solitary walk in a strange district which had

failed in its object. He sat, as it would seem, purposely a long way

from Miss Douglas, and the servants were already clearing away before

he tried to catch her eye. What he saw, or how he gathered from an

instantaneous glance that his company was more welcome now than it had

been at breakfast, is one of those mysteries on which it seems useless

to speculate; but he never left her side again during the afternoon.

The General was true to his colours, and seldom ventured on the

slightest act of disloyalty. When he returned, as in the present

instance, to his allegiance, he always found himself under more

authority than ever for his weak attempt at insubordination.

Satanella: A Story of Punchestown · 第 12 / 30 章