ANNAGASSAN RACES.
It was the very month before Pierce left us, and brilliant April
weather, when we played that prank which ended so disastrously for
me, and the incidents of which I can never recall without a blush.
I was a pickle in those days, and ripe for all sorts of mischief,
while Esther was then, as now, ever ready to follow where I led. As
for the boys--did you ever know boys who didn't like forbidden fruit?
As they say hereabouts, "Would a duck swim?" and the duck's attitude
towards her native element was precisely that of Hugh and Donald
towards any wild freak, whether suggested by themselves or by those
who ought to have known better.
It was an exquisite day, more like June than April, and Pierce and
Aline had gone for one of their fishing excursions together, taking a
basket of luncheon with them.
"You'll be good children," Aline had said to us, "and not get into
any mischief, and be in punctually for luncheon, and not give Oona
any trouble."
We said we would be all she desired us; and she went off with her
look of placid contentment. We really meant to behave very well, but
we had not remembered then that it was the greatest day of the year
for the whole country-side, the day of Annagassan Races.
Well, we remembered it soon enough--too soon--after Aline had gone;
and at first we had no wilder idea than to ensconce ourselves in the
ivy of the old abbey gable and watch the country people walking and
driving by.
"There'll be no one left in the village," said Donald; "even the
babies are going."
"Barney M'Gee will be left," said Hugh, "for he told me yesterday he
was took with the rheumatiz fearful. 'Yez wouldn't be after wantin'
the little mare an' the side-car,' said he, 'for if yez would, yez'll
be kindly welcome?'"
"I say," I cried out on the impulse of the moment, "why shouldn't we
take Barney's offer, and see the races?"
The boys stood up and jumped over the backs of their chairs to
express their enthusiastic approval of the suggestion. Only Esther
timidly asked what Aline would say.
"Say!" I responded disingenuously. "Why, what would she say? She
never said we weren't to go."
"Let us ask Oona to give us our lunch to take with us," said one of
the boys.
"If you do," said I, "Oona will smell a rat and spoil everything. I
have threepence, and we can buy some gingerbread. Mind, the twins
aren't to know, or they will tell Oona."
"Or they will make us take them. They're horrid cheeky little
things," said twelve-year-old Donald, "and it would be ridiculous to
be seen with a pair of kids like them."
We got off without Oona suspecting us, and made for the village. So
far as sounds of humanity were concerned, it was silent as the grave,
the place being given over to cocks and hens, and goats, and pigs,
and cats, and ducks, and turkeys,--except that old Barney sat on his
door-step wearing an expectant look.
"I thought yez'd come to-day, bein' offered the convayniance of the
car an' horse. Sure young blood'll be young blood, an' even the dogs
is off to Annagassan Races. Not so much as an intelligent baste for
me to exchange a word wid until the people comes troopin' home in the
cool of the evenin'."
The boys "yoked up" the old mare under Barney's supervision. She was
a very Rosinante of a steed, and her harness, which must have been
the first harness made, was broken in many places, and tied together
with stout twine. The car was coated with years of mud, which hung
down in stalactites behind, and the old cushions protruded their hair
stuffing in every direction through the rags and tatters that
pretended to cover it. However, Barney looked at it with such pride
when it stood ready for us that none of us had the heart to find
fault with the equipage.
Off we started, Donald driving, and with lurchings of the old mare to
this side and that, which sent the fowls flying in every direction,
amid shrieks of indignation from the hens. However, when once she
had got clear of the village, she settled down to a leisurely walk,
which seemed likely to get us to Annagassan about sunset. When
Donald tickled her with the whip she only flicked her tail as at an
intrusive fly. This made us laugh, and at the sound of our laughter
the old mare turned calmly on to a green patch at the side of the
road and settled to make a hearty luncheon.
However, by dint of threats and coaxing we got her to a better pace
in time, and reached Annagassan just after the second race had been
run. We were all pretty hot and dusty, for we had walked up every
hill, and we had assisted the mare over so many difficult places,
that, but for the grandeur of it, as the boys said, we might as well
have walked.
The boys had come off in their old homespuns for fear of arousing
Oona's suspicions, but Esther and I had managed to creep out in our
new pink ginghams, which we weren't supposed to wear for a month yet.
I thought Esther looked lovely, with the sparkle and glow in her
dusky face, and her eyes, brown as a trout stream, made deeper in
colour by contrast with her pink frock. Of course she had only
cotton gloves and a cheap little black straw hat with pink roses in
it, but I am sure she was far prettier than any of the fine ladies
who presently passed us by with their cavaliers, on their way to see
the horses take the big jump.
I wasn't a bit pleased to see that some of the gentlemen looked at
her as if they admired her very much. It vexed me even more than the
smiles of some of the ladies at our equipage and ourselves. I felt
rather the worse for the wear by this time, though Esther seemed to
be irreproachably fresh; and the boys with their hair sticking out
through their tattered straw hats, and their muddy boots and faded
clothes, looked a pair of little scarecrows indeed.
People passed us by with an amused smile whom we should never have
dreamt of admitting to Brandon in the old days, nor indeed to-day for
the matter of that. There was that horrid Miss Pettigrew, the
daughter of a very disreputable attorney, who is said to have done a
good deal of dirty work for Sir Rupert De Lacy, and to have made his
money by very questionable means indeed. Well, I saw this great
flaunting peony of a creature look at Esther's unconscious face with
a toss of the head, and an impudent, jeering smile, which made me
furious for a moment, till I remembered that she was only Pettigrew's
daughter, and could know no better. She took occasion to pass very
near to us, flaunting her silks like any peacock, so near that we had
to stand back a little to let her pass. There was a gentleman with
her, and for a moment I included him in my glance of haughty
indignation. But only for a moment.
He was quite young, and his face had a very bright expression, but
just then he looked grave, almost angry, I thought, and it occurred
to me that what Miss Pettigrew had whispered to him disgusted him not
a little. Anyhow, as he passed quite close to us, he lifted his hat
gravely, and I caught a glimpse of bright brown hair, rippled all
over, despite its close cutting. Then they were gone.
I turned round, to find Mag Byrne, the beggar-woman, and one of the
characters of the country, at my elbow. Mag had seen the little
drama, and now spat out expressively.
"To think of the likes of her rubbin' her dirty skirts against rale
quality like yourselves, Miss Hilda dear! Why, I remember her father
thankful to get a plateful of mate at the kitchen door of your own
house, my dear, that's a shoneen now, an' his daughter trapesin'
about wid the officers from the barracks."
I laughed at Mag's indignation, and my own somehow disappeared. So
Miss Pettigrew's escort was one of the officers from the barracks.
Well, he looked a gentleman, at all events, however he came to be in
such strange company.
All the fine folk were in the carriage enclosure, or on the grand
stand. We were out on the hill among the farmers' carts and the
dancing tents and Aunt Sallies; and Esther and I enjoyed the humour
of it all greatly. Quite early in the day the boys had gone off to
amuse themselves, but as they came back frequently to share their
raptures with us, we were not anxious. Fortunately for them, the
place was full of their friends, people who had lived on Brandon land
for more generations than they or we could count, and to whom it was
untold pride and joy to "trate" the young gentlemen to all the fun of
the fair. I offered them some of the threepenny-worth of
gingerbread, but my offer was received with scorn. They had been
royally banqueted on ham and chicken and ginger-beer and
rhubarb-tart, and had seen the bearded lady and the giant and the
dwarf, and were inclined to be rather contemptuous of us.
We ourselves were not a bit sorry when Mrs. O'Sullivan, Oona's
cousin, came over to us and implored us humbly to share her home-made
bread-and-butter, and the little pot of tea she had made by the aid
of a spirit-lamp. We were very hungry by this time, and we were not
proud with our own people. I am quite sure that the chicken and the
champagne on the drags in the enclosure wasn't half so much enjoyed
as was our repast out of Mrs. O'Sullivan's basket.
The people about us vied with each other in being kind and courteous
to us. Indeed they were quite congratulatory to Annagassan Races for
being honoured by our presence, though they abstained from looking at
Barney's car and mare, while they detailed reminiscences of our
grandfather's appearance, driving a coach and six, at these same
races.
If there had only been our own dear good people, I could have enjoyed
the races as heartily as the boys did, but somehow, as the afternoon
went on and the bevies of fine folk passed and repassed us, I grew
vexed and disquieted. It was not the supercilious glances of the
ladies so much as the behaviour of some of the gentlemen. As they
passed they stared hard at us; and presently they would come back
alone, or accompanied by other gentlemen, and walk past slowly, or
stand at a little distance looking at us.
That was the worst, I said to myself crossly, of having a beauty
sister, for of course they could not want to look at me. Esther had
forgotten her misgivings, and was enjoying the day as thoroughly as
the two boys. She had the air of rapture which very small joys have
the power of awakening in her, and as she sat there radiant and
smiling, with her red lips parted over her little white teeth, and
her eyes shining, I couldn't wonder at people liking to look at her.
In other circumstances I should have enjoyed her enjoyment myself.
But I had been gradually remembering that I was the really
responsible person in this mad freak, that I was seventeen and ought
to have known better, that Aline would have been so vexed if she
could have seen these men, and so on. Conscience was pricking me so
that at last, out of discomfort, I grew cross with Esther, and said
to her viciously:
"Don't look so ridiculously happy. You are for all the world like
Juliet in the play, and you are making those people stare at us."
Then I was quite sorry, for her dear face fell and her eyes clouded
over.
"There, there!" I said repentantly. "I didn't want to frighten
you;"--at which her face slowly brightened again. "After all, since
we are here, there's no reason why you shouldn't get all the
enjoyment you can out of it."
Soon afterwards I had forgotten the disagreeable things myself in
excitement over the great race of the day. The race lay between an
English horse and a little mare called Brandon Biddy, that came of
stock from my grandfather's stables, so that my excitement was at
once a family affair and an affair of patriotism. Some one on the
hill had brought us a little glass, so that I was able to watch the
mare's green and white, as the horses and their jockeys spread
themselves over the course like a many-coloured ribbon. The mare won
by a length, and all at once I forgot myself and shouted as wildly as
anyone there, though, as everyone was shouting, it wasn't likely that
I should be noticed.
However, when I discovered what I had been betrayed into doing, I
felt myself turning crimson. I shut up the race-glasses sharply and
took a furtive look round to see if anyone had observed me. The
crowd on the hill-side was laughing and cheering and shaking hands
all round; and some men were even flinging their hats in the air
again and again in the exuberance of their delight. I was sure I had
not been noticed, and I was able to turn to Esther and answer her
"Oh, Hilda, isn't it splendid?" with a cheerful affirmative.
But just then I saw, standing quite near us, the gentleman who had
been with Miss Pettigrew earlier in the day. His face was full of
amusement, and it flashed upon me in a minute that he had been
watching my ridiculous capers. I was furious, and looked so, I
suppose, for his amused look gave way to one of such gentleness and
deprecation, that I felt my anger quite giving way. Though I was
sure that I should never cease to blush for having appeared so
ridiculous.
However, just then the boys came up.
"They're saddling for the last race," cried Hugh, "and we'd better be
making our way out of this crush, or we won't get home till midnight
with the old mare. We'll see the last race just as well from the
Upper Road."
We agreed, and I was delighted with the boy's foresight, for I didn't
want to be coming through the gap side by side with all the carriages
and drags. So we turned our Rosinante around, and came down from the
hill and across a field, and through the gap, where half an hour
later there would be such a tremendous struggle for precedence.
The mare was eager for her stable and trotted briskly enough over the
grass fields to the road. We halted to see the last race run, and
then we turned from the Upper Road into a quiet by-road which would
take us to Brandon village by a slight detour. By taking it we
should escape the crowd, and as we turned off the highroad and caught
in the distance already the shouting and tumult that showed the
people were trying to get first through the gap, I heaved a deep sigh
of relief. Then I turned to the others with a smile.
"Well," said I, "we've had a delightful day and no harm done. All's
well that ends well!"
But just at that moment there came from the Upper Road a blast of a
horn, followed by the clatter of hoofs. Barney's mare started and
flung herself almost back on us; then she was off like the wind.
Barney had always said that she had a touch of the racer. Perhaps
the events of the day had wakened it in her. Anyhow the noise of the
drags was too much for her, and she was off.