RACHEL'S CORRESPONDENCE.
There was another cause of trouble at Morony Castle, which at the
present moment annoyed them much. Frank had received three or four
letters from Rachel O'Mahony, the purport of them all being to
explain her troubles with Mahomet M. M., as she called the man; but
still so as to prevent Frank from attempting to interfere personally.
"No doubt the man is a brute," she had said, "if a young lady,
without ceasing to be ladylike, may so describe so elegant a
gentleman. If not so, still he is a brute, because I can't declare
otherwise, even for the sake of being ladylike. But what you say
about coming is out of the question. You can't meddle with my affairs
till you've a title to meddle. Now, you know the truth. I'm going to
stick to you, and I expect you to stick to me. For certain paternal
reasons you want to put the marriage off. Very well. I'm agreeable,
as the folks say. If you would say that you would be ready to marry
me on the first of April, again I should be agreeable. You can
nowhere find a more agreeable young woman than I am. But I must be
one thing or the other."
Then he wrote to her the sort of love-letter which the reader can
understand. It was full of kisses and vows and ecstatic hopes but did
not name a day. In fact Mr. Jones, in the middle of his troubles, was
unable to promise an immediate union, and did not choose that his son
should marry in order that he might be supported by a singing girl.
But to this letter Frank added a request--or rather a command--that
he should be allowed to come over at once and see Mr. Mahomet. It was
no doubt true that his father was, for the minute, a little backward
in the matter of his income; but still he wanted to look after
Mahomet, and he wanted to be kissed.
You must not come at all, and I won't even see you if you
do. You men are always so weak, and want such a lot of
petting. Mahomet tried to kiss me last night when I was
singing to him before going to dress. I have to practise
with him. I gave him such a blow in the face that I don't
think he'll repeat the experiment, and I had my eyes about
me. You needn't be at all afraid of me but what I am
quick enough. He was startled at the moment, and I merely
laughed. I'm not going to give up L100 a month because
he makes a beast of himself; and I'm not going to call
in father as long as I can help it; nor do I mean to call
in your royal highness at all. I tell everybody that I'm
going to marry your royal highness, king Jones; there
isn't a bit of a secret about it. I talk of my Mr. Jones
just as if we were married, because it all comes easier to
me in that way. You will see that I absolutely believe in
you and I expect that you shall absolutely believe in me.
Send you a kiss! Of course I do; I am not at all coy of my
favours. You ask Mahomet also as to what he thinks of the
strength of my right arm. I examined his face so minutely
when I had to fall into his arms on the stage, and there I
saw the round mark of my fist, and the swelling all round
it. And I thought to myself as I was singing my devotion
that he should have it next time in his eye. But, Frank,
mark my words: I won't have you here till you can come to
marry me.
Frank did not go over, even on this occasion, as he was detained, not
only by his mistress's danger, but by his father's troubles. Florian
had almost, but had not quite, told the entire truth. He had said
that he had seen the sluices broken, but had not quite owned who had
broken them. He had declared that Pat Carroll had done "mischief,"
but had not quite said of what nature was the mischief which Carroll
had done. It was now March, and the hunting troubles were still going
on. The whole gentry in County Galway had determined to take Black
Tom Daly's part, and to carry him on through the contest. But the
effect of taking Black Tom Daly's part was to take the part against
which the Land Leaguers were determined to enrol themselves. For of
all men in the county, Black Tom was the most unpopular. And of all
men he was the most determined; with him it was literally a question
between God and Mammon. A man could not serve both. In the simplicity
of his heart, he thought that the Landleaguers were children of
Satan, and that to have any dealings with them, or the passage of
any kindness, was in itself Satanic. He said very little, but he
spent whole hours in thinking of the evil that they were doing. And
among the evils was the unparalleled insolence which they displayed
in entering coverts in County Galway. Now Frank Jones, who had not
hitherto been very intimate with Tom, had taken up his part, and was
fighting for him at this moment. Nevertheless the provocation to him
to go to London was very great, and he had only put it off till the
last coverts should be drawn on Saturday the 2nd of April. The hunt
had determined to stop their proceedings earlier than usual; but
still there was to be one day in April, for the sake of honour and
glory.
But in the latter days of March there came a third letter from Rachel
O'Mahony. Like the other letter it was cheerful, and high-spirited;
but still it seemed to speak of impending dangers, which Frank,
though he could not understand them, thought that he could perceive.
My present engagement is to go on till the end of July,
with an understanding that I am to have twenty guineas
a night, for any evening that I may be required to sing
in August. This your highness will perceive is a very
considerable increase, and at three nights a week might
afford an income on which your highness would perhaps
condescend to come and eat a potato, in the honour of
"ould" Ireland, till better times should come. That would
be the happy potato which would be the first bought for
such a purpose! But you must see that I cannot expect
a continuance of my present engagement as the head of
your royal highness' seraglio. I should have to look for
another Chancellor of the Exchequer, and should probably
find him. Mr. Mahomet M. Moss would hardly endure me
as being part of the properties belonging to your royal
highness.
And now I must tell you my own little news. Beelzebub has
taken a worse devil to himself, so that I am likely to be
trodden down into the very middle of the pit. I choose to
tell you because I won't have you think that I have ever
kept anything secret from you. If I describe the roars of
Mrs. Beelzebub to you, and her red claws, and her forky
tongue, and her fiery tail, it is not because I like her
as a subject of poetry, but because this special subject
comes uppermost; and you shall never say to me, why didn't
you tell me when you were introduced to Beelzebub's wife?
and assert, as men are apt to do, that you would not
have allowed me to make her acquaintance. Mrs. Beelzebub
appears on the stage as belonging to Mahomet but how they
have mixed it all up together among themselves, I do not
quite know. I do not think that they're in love with one
another, because she is not jealous of me. She is Madame
Socani in the plot, and a genuine American from New York;
but she can sing; she has a delicious soprano voice, soft
and powerful; but she has also a temper and temperament
such as no woman, nor yet no devil, ought to possess. Of
Monsieur Socani, or Signor Socani, or Herr Socani, I never
yet heard. But such men do not always make themselves
troublesome. I have to sing with her, and a woman you may
say would not be troublesome, but she and Mahomet between
them consider themselves competent to get me under their
thumb. I don't intend to be under their thumb. I intend
to be under nobody's thumb but yours; and the sooner the
better. Now you know all about it; but as you shall value
the first squeeze which you shall get when you do come,
don't come till your coming has been properly settled.
Then there was a fourth letter in which she described her troubles,
still humorously, and with some attempt at absolute comedy. But she
certainly wrote with a purpose of making him understand that she was
subjected to very considerable annoyance. She was still determined
not to call upon him for assistance; and she warned him that any
assistance whatever would be out of his power. A lover on the scene,
who could not declare his purpose of speedy marriage, would be worse
than useless. All that she saw plainly,--or at any rate declared that
she saw plainly, though she was altogether unable to explain it to
Frank Jones.
Mrs. Beelzebub is certainly the queen of the devils. I
remember when you read "Paradise Lost" to us at Morony
Castle, which I thought very dull. Milton arranged the
ranks in Pandemonium differently; but there has been a
revolution since that, and Mrs. Beelzebub has everything
just as she pleases. I am beginning to pity Mahomet, and
pity, they say, is akin to love. She urges him,--well,
just to make love to me. What reason there is between
them I don't know, but I am sure she wants him to get me
altogether into his hands. I'm not sure but what she is
Mahomet's own wife. This is a horrid kettle of fish, as
you will see. But I think I'll turn out to be head cook
yet. If God does not walk atop of the devils what's the
use of running straight? But I am sure he will, and the
more so because there is in truth no temptation.
She told me the other day to my face, that I was a fool.
"I know I am," said I demurely, "but why?" Then she came
out with her demand. It was very simple, and did not in
truth amount to much. I was to become just--mistress to
Mr. Moss.
Frank Jones, when he read this, crushed the paper up in his hand and
went upstairs to his bedroom, determined to pack up immediately.
But before he had progressed far, he got out the letter and read the
remainder.
"You," I said, "are an intimate acquaintance of Mr. Moss."
"I am his particular friend," she said, with that peculiar
New York aping of a foreign accent, which is the language
that was, I am sure, generally used by the devils.
"Ask him, with my best compliments," I said, "whether he
remembers the blow I hit him in the face. Tell him I can
hit much harder than that; tell him that he will never
find me unprepared, for a moment."
Now I have got another little bit of news for you.
Somebody has found out in New York that I am making
money. It is true, in a limited way. L100 a month is
something, and so they've asked papa to subscribe as
largely as he can to a grand Home-Rule, anti-Protestant,
hate-the-English, stars-and-stripes society. It is the
most loyal and beneficent thing out, and dear papa thinks
I can do nothing better with my wealth than bestow it
upon these birds of freedom. I have no doubt they are
all right, because I am an American-Irish, and have not
the pleasure of knowing Black Tom Daly. I have given
them L200, and am, therefore, at this moment, nearly
impecunious. On this account I do not choose to give up my
engagement--L100 a month, with an additional possibility
of twenty guineas a night when August shall be here. You
will tell me that after the mild suggestion made by Mrs.
Beelzebub, I ought to walk out of the house, and go back
to County Galway immediately. I don't think so. I am
learning every day how best to stand fast on my own feet.
I am earning my money honestly, and men and women here
in London are saying that in truth I can sing. A very
nice old gentleman called on me the other day from Covent
Garden, and, making me two low bows, asked whether I was
my own mistress some time in October next. I thought at
the moment that I was at any rate free from the further
engagement proposed by Mrs. Beelzebub, and told him that I
was free. Then he made me two lower bows, touched the tip
of my fingers, and said that he would be proud to wait
upon me in a few days with a definite proposal. This old
gentleman may mean twenty guineas a night for the whole
of next winter, or something like L250 a month. Think
of that, Mr. Jones. But how am I to go on in my present
impecunious position if I quarrel altogether with my bread
and butter? So now you know all about it.
Remember that I have told my father nothing as to Mrs.
Beelzebub's proposition. It is better not; he would disown
it, and would declare that I had invented it from vanity.
I do think that a woman in this country can look after
herself if she be minded so to do. I know that I am
stronger than Mr. Moss and Mrs. Beelzebub together. I do
believe that he will pay me his money, as he has always
done, and I want to earn my money. I have some little
precautions--just for a rainy day. I have told you
everything--everything, because you are to be my husband.
But you can do me no good by coming here, but may cause me
a peck of troubles. Now, good-bye, and God bless you. A
thousand kisses.
Ever your own,
R.
Tell everybody that I'm to be Mrs. Jones some day.
Frank finished packing up, and then told his father that he was going
off to Athenry at once, there to meet the night mail train up to
Dublin.
"Why are you going at once, in this sudden manner?" asked his father.
Frank then remembered that he could not tell openly the story of Mrs.
Beelzebub. Rachel had told him in pure simple-minded confidence, and
though he was prepared to disobey her, he would not betray her. "She
is on the stage," he said.
"I am aware of it," replied his father, intending to signify that his
son's betrothed was not employed as he would have wished.
"At the Charing Cross Opera," said the son, endeavouring to make the
best of it.
"Yes; at the Charing Cross Opera, if that makes a difference."
"She is earning her bread honestly."
"I believe so," said Mr. Jones, "I do believe so, I do think that
Rachel O'Mahony is a thoroughly good girl."
"I am sure of it," said Ada and Edith almost in the same breath.
"But not less on that account is the profession distasteful to me.
You do not wish to see your sisters on the stage?"
"I have thought of all that, sir," said Frank, "I have quite made up
my mind to make Rachel my wife, if it be possible."
"Do you mean to live on what she may earn as an actress?" Here Frank
remained silent for a moment. "Because if you do, I must tell you
that it will not become you as a gentleman to accept her income."
"You cannot give us an income on which we may live."
"Certainly not at this moment. With things as they are in Ireland
now, I do not know how long I may have a shilling with which to bless
myself. It seems to me that for the present it is your duty to stay
at home, and not to trouble Rachel by going to her in London."
"At this moment I must go to her."
"You have given no reason for your going." Frank thought of it, and
told himself that there was in truth no reason. His going would
be a trouble to Rachel, and yet there were reasons which made it
imperative for him to go. "Have you asked yourself what will be the
expense?" said his father.
"It may cost I suppose twelve pounds, going and coming."
"And have you asked yourself how many twelve pounds will be likely to
fall into your hands just at present? Is she in any trouble?"
"I had rather not talk about her affairs," said Frank.
"Is not her father with her?"
"I do not think he is the best man in the world to help a girl in
such an emergency." But he had not described what was the emergency.
"You think that a young man, who certainly will be looked on as the
young lady's lover, but by no means so certainly as the young lady's
future husband, will be more successful?"
"I do," said Frank, getting up and walking out of the room. He was
determined at any rate that nothing which his father could say should
stop him, as he had resolved to disobey all the orders which Rachel
had given him. At any rate, during that night and the following day
he made his way up to London.