Sir Marmaduke Travers and his daughter had passed a morning of great
uneasiness at the delay in Frederic's return. Noon came, and yet no
appearance of him. They wandered along the road, hoping to meet him,
and at last turned homeward with the intention of despatching a servant
towards Carrig-na-curra, fearing lest he should have missed his
way. This determination, however, they abandoned, on being told by a
countryman, that he had seen the horse young Travers rode still standing
at the gate of the “castle.”
A feeling of curiosity to hear his son's account of the O'Donoghues,
mingled with the old man's excitement at his absence; and, as the day
declined, and still no sign of his return, he walked every now and then
to the door, and looked anxiously along the road by which he expected
his approach. Sybella, too, was not without her fears, and though vague
and undefined, she dreaded a possible collision between the hot-blood of
Mark and her brother. The evening of her first arrival was ever present
to her mind; and she often thought of what might have then occurred, had
Frederic been present.
They had wearied themselves with every mode of accounting for his delay,
guessed at every possible cause of detention, and were at length on the
point of sending a messenger in search of him, when they heard the tramp
of a horse coming, not along the high road, but, as it seemed, over the
fields in front of them. A few minutes more of anxious expectancy, and
Frederic, with his horse splashed and panting, alighted beside them.
“Well, you certainly have a very pretty eye for a country, father,” said
he, gaily. “That same line you advised, has got three as rasping fences
as I should like to meet with.”
“What do you mean, boy?” said Sir Marmaduke, as much puzzled at the
speech as the reader himself may feel.
“Simply, sir, that though the cob is a capital horse, and has a great
jump in him, that I'd rather have day-light for that kind of thing; and
I really believe the ragged fellow you sent for me, chose the
stiffest places. I saw the rascal grinning when I was coming up to the
mill-stream.”
“Messenger!--ragged fellow! The boy is dreaming.”
“My dear Frederic, we sent no messenger. We were, indeed, very anxious
at your delay, but we did not despatch any one to meet you.”
Frederic stared at both the speakers, and then repeated, in
astonishment, the last words--“Sent no messenger!” but when they once
more assured him of the fact, he gave the following account of his
return:---
“It was very late when I left the castle. I delayed there the whole day;
but scarcely had I reached the high-road, when a wild-looking fellow,
with a great pole in his hand, came up to me, and cried out,
“'Are you for the Lodge?' 'Yes,' said he, answering himself, 'you are
her brother. I'm sent over to tell you, not to go back by the road, for
the bridge is down; but you're to come over the fields, and I'll show
you the way.'”
“Supposing the fellow was what he assumed to be--your messenger, I
followed him; and, by George, it was no joking matter; for he leaped
like a deer, and seemed to take uncommon pleasure in pitting himself
against the cob. I should have given up the contest, I confess, but that
the knave had me in his power. For, when it grew dark, I knew not which
way to head, until, at length, he shouted out--
“'There's the Lodge now, where you see the light.' And after that, what
became of himself I cannot tell you.”
“It was Terry, poor Terry,” cried Sybella.
“Yes, it must have been Terry,” echoed her father. “And is this Terry
retained to play Will-o'-the-Wisp?” asked Fred; “or is it a piece of
amateurship?”
But both Sir Marmaduke and Sybella were too deeply engaged in canvassing
the motive for this strange act, to pay due attention to his question.
As Frederic was but little interested in his guide, nor mindful of what
became of him, they were not able to obtain any clue from him as to what
road he took; nor what chance there was of overtaking him.
“So then this was a piece of 'politesse,' for which I am indebted to
your friend Terry's own devising,” said Fred, half angrily. “The fellow
had better keep out of my way in future.”
“You will not harm him, Fred, you never could, when I tell you of his
gallant conduct here.”
“My sweet sister, I am really wearied of this eternal theme--I have
heard of nothing but heroism since my arrival. Once for all, I concede
the matter, and am willing to believe of the Irish, as of the family of
Bayard, that all the men are brave--and all the women virtuous. And now,
let us to dinner.”
“You have told us nothing of your visit to the enchanted castle, Fred,”
said his sister, when the servants had withdrawn, and they were once
more alone; “and I am all impatience to hear of your adventures there.”
“I confess, too,” said Sir Marmaduke, “I am not devoid of curiosity on
the subject--let us hear it all.”
“I have little to recount,” said Frederic, with some hesitation in
his manner; “I neither saw the O'Donoghue, as they call him, nor his
brother-in-law--the one was in bed, the other had gone to visit
some sick person on the mountain. But I made acquaintance with your
prieux-chevalier, Sybella: a fine-looking young fellow, even now wasted
with sickness; he was there with an elder brother, an insolent kind of
personage--half peasant, all bully.”
“He was not wanting in proper respect to _you_” said Sir Marmaduke. “I
trust, Mark, he was aware of who you were?”
“Faith, sir, I fancy he cared very little on the subject; and had I been
a much more important individual, he would have treated me in the same
way--a way, to say the least of it, not over-burthened with courtesy.”
“Had you any words together, boy?” said Sir Marmaduke, with an evident
anxiety in his look and voice.
“A mere interchange of greeting,” replied Fred, laughing, “in which each
party showed his teeth, but did not bite withal. I unhappily mistook
him for a game-keeper--and worse still, told him so, and he felt
proportionably angry at the imputation--preferring, probably, to be
thought a poacher. He is a rude coarse fellow,” said he with a changed
voice, “with pride to be a gentleman--but not breeding nor manner to
enact the character.”
“The visit was, after all, not an agreeable one,” said Miss Travers,
“and I am only surprised how you came to prolong it. You spent the whole
day there.”
Although there was not the slightest degree of suspicion insinuated
by this remark, Fred stole a quick glance at his sister, to see if she
really intended more than the mere words implied. Then, satisfied that
she had not, he said in a careless way--
“Oh, the weather broke; it came on a heavy snow-storm; and as the
younger brother pressed me to remain, and I had no fancy to face the
hurricane, I sat down to a game of chess.”
“Chess! Indeed, Fred, that sounds very humanizing. And how did he play?”
“It was not with him I played,” answered he, hesitatingly.
“What---with the elder?”
“No, nor him either; my antagonist was a cousin--I think they called her
cousin.”
“Called _her_,” said Sybella, slyly. “So then, Master Fred, there was
a lady in the case. Well, we certainly have been a long while coming to
her.”
“Yes, she has lately arrived--a day or two ago--from some convent in the
Low Countries, where she has lived since she was a child.”
“A strange home for her,” interposed Sir Marmaduke. “If I do not
misconceive them greatly, they must be very unsuitable associates for a
young lady educated in a French convent.”
“So you would say, if you saw her,” said Fred, seizing with avidity
at the opening, then offered, to coincide with an opinion he was
half afraid to broach. “She is perfectly foreign in look, dress, and
demeanour--with all the mannerism of Paris life, graceful and pleasing
in her address; and they, at least one of them, a downright boor--the
other, giving him credit for good looks and good nature, yet
immeasurably _her_ inferior in every respect.”
“Is she pretty, Frederic?” said Sybella, not lifting her eyes from her
work as she spoke.
“I should say pretty,” replied he, with hesitation, as if qualifying his
praise by a word which did not imply too much. “I prefer a quieter
style of beauty, for my own part; less dazzle, less sparkling effect;
something to see every day, and to like the better the more one sees
it”--and he placed his arm around his sister's waist, and gazed at her
as if to give the interpretation to his speech.
“You have made me quite curious to see her, Fred,” said Sybella. “The
very fact of finding one like her in such a place has its interest.”
“What if you were to visit her, my dear?” said Sir Marmaduke; “the
attention would only be a proper one; you have books and music, here,
besides, which she might be glad to have in a region so remote as this.”
Frederic never spoke a word, but anxiously awaited his sister's answer.
“I should like it greatly; what says Fred to the notion?”
“I see nothing against it,” replied he, with a well-affected
indifference. “She is a most lady-like person; and, if it be your
intention to pass a few weeks longer in this solitude, would be of
infinite value for companionship.”
“A few weeks longer!--I shall remain till Christmas, boy,” said his
father, with determination. “I have taken a fancy to Ireland; and my
intention is to go up to Dublin for a few months in winter, and return
here in the spring.”
This was at once approaching the very subject which Frederic had
journeyed to determine; but, whether it was that the time seemed
unfavourable, or that his own ideas in the matter had undergone some
modification since his arrival, he contented himself with simply a
doubtful shake of the head, as if distrusting Sir Marmaduke's firmness,
and did not endeavour to oppose his determination by a single argument
of any kind. On the contrary, he listened with patience, and even
seeming interest to his father's detailed account of his project--how
he had already given orders to secure a house in Stephen's-green for the
winter, intending to make acquaintances with the gentry of the capital,
and present himself and his daughter at the viceregal court.
“Sybella may as well make her debut in society here as in London,” said
Sir Marmaduke. “Indeed I am not sure but the provincial boards are the
best for a first appearance. In any case, such is the line I have laid
down for myself; and if it only secured me against a sea voyage to
England in such a season, I shall be amply repaid for my resolve.”
Against the season of his return, too, Sir Marmaduke hoped to make
such additions to the Lodge as should render it more comfortable as a
residence; various plans for which were heaped upon the library table,
and littered the chairs about the room.
Miss Travers had already given her hearty concurrence to all her
father's schemes, and seconded, most ably, every one of his views
by such arguments as she was possessed of; so that Frederic, even if
disposed to record his opposition, saw that the present was not an
opportune moment; and prudently reserved for another time, what, if
unsuccessful now, could never be recurred to with advantage.
The conversation on these topics lasted long. They discussed with
interest every detail of their plans; for so it is--the pleasures of
castle building are inexhaustible, and the very happiest realities of
life are poor and vague, compared with the resources provided by our
hopes and fancies. The slightest grounds of probability are enough to
form a foundation--but there is no limit to the superstructure we raise
above.
In the indulgence of this view, they continued to chat till a late hour,
and parted for the night in high good humour with each other--a visit to
the O'Donoghue being the plan for the succeeding day's accomplishment.