In the mean time young Lamh Laudher felt little suspicion that the
stolen interview between him and Ellen Neil was known. The incident,
however, which occurred to him on his way to keep the assignation,
produced in his mind a vague apprehension which he could not shake off.
To meet a red-haired woman, when going on any business of importance,
was considered at all times a bad omen, as it is in the country parts
of Ireland unto this day; but to meet a female familiar with forbidden
powers, as Nell M'Collum was supposed to be, never failed to produce
fear and misgiving in those who met her. Mere physical courage was no
bar against the influence of such superstitions; many a man was a
slave to them who never knew fear of a human or tangible enemy. They
constituted an important part of the popular belief! for the history of
ghosts and fairies, and omens, was, in general, the only kind of lore
in which the people were educated; thanks to the sapient traditions of
their forefathers.
When Nell passed away from Lamh Laudher, who would fain have flattered
himself that by turning back on the way, until she passed him, he had
avoided meeting her, he once more sought the place of appointment, at
the same slow pace as before. On arriving behind the orchard, he found,
as the progress of the evening told him, that he had anticipated the
hour at which it had been agreed to meet. He accordingly descended the
Grassy Quarry, and sat on a mossy ledge of rock, over which the brow of
a little precipice jutted in such a manner as to render those who sat
beneath, visible only from a particular point. Here he had scarcely
seated himself when the tread of a foot was heard, and in a few minutes
Nanse M'Collum stood beside him.
“Why, thin, bad cess to you, Lamh Laudher,” she exclaimed, “but it's a
purty chase I had afther you.”
“Afther me, Nanse? and what's the commission, _cush gastha_
(lightfoot)?”
“The sorra any thing, at all, at all, only to see if you war here. Miss
Ellen sent me to tell you that she's afeard she can't come this evenin',
unknownst to them.”
“An' am I not to wait, Nanse?”
“Why, she says she--_will_ come, for all that, if she can; but she
bid me take your stick from you, for a rason she has, that she'll tell
yourself when she sees you.”
“Take my stick! Why Nanse, _ma colleen baun_, what can she want with my
stick? Is the darlin' girl goin' to bate any body?”
“Bad cess to the know _I_ know, Lamh Laudher, barrin' it be to lay on
yourself for stalin' her heart from her. Why thin, the month's mether o'
honey to you, soon an' sudden, how did you come round her at all?”
“No matter about that, Nanse; but the family's bitther against me?--eh?”
“Oh, thin, in trogs, it's ill their common to hate you as they do; but
thin, you see, this faction-work will keep yees asundher for ever. Now
gi' me your stick, an' wait, any way, till you see whether she comes or
not.”
“Is it by Ellen's ordhers you take it, Nanse?”
“To be sure--who else's? but the divil a one o' me knows what she means
by it, any how--only that I daren't go back widout it.”
“Take it, Nanse; she knows I wouldn't refuse her my heart's blood, let
alone a bit of a kippeen.”
“A bit of a kippeen! Faix, this is a quare kippeen! Why, it would fell a
bullock.”
“When you see her, Nanse, tell her to make haste, an' for God's sake not
to disappoint me. I can't rest well the day I don't meet her.”
“Maybe other people's as bad, for that matter; so good night, an' the
mether o' honey to you, soon an' sudden! Faix, if any body stand in my
way now, they'll feel the weight of this, any how.”
After uttering the last words, she brandished the cudgel and
disappeared.
Lamh Laudher felt considerably puzzled to know what object Ellen could
have had in sending the servant maid for his staff. Of one thing,
however, he was certain, that her motive must have had regard to his
own safety; but how, or in what manner, he could not conjecture. It is
certainly true some misgivings shot lightly across his imagination,
on reflecting that he had parted with the very weapon which he usually
brought with him to repel the violence of Ellen's friends, should he be
detected in an interview with her. He remembered, too, that he had
met unlucky Nell M'Collum, and that the person who deprived him of his
principal means of defence was her niece. He had little time, however,
to think upon the subject, for in a few minutes after Nanse's departure,
he recognized the light quick step of her whom he expected.
The figure of Ellen Neil was tall, and her motions full of untaught
elegance and natural grace. Her countenance was a fine oval; her
features, though not strictly symmetrical, were replete with animation,
and her eyes sparkled with a brilliancy indicative of a warm heart and a
quick apprehension. Flaxen hair, long and luxuriant, decided, even at a
distant glance, the loveliness of her skin, than which the unsunned snow
could not be whiter. If you add to this a delightful temper, buoyant
spirits, and extreme candor, her character, in its strongest points, is
before you.
On reaching the bottom of the Grassy Quarry, as it was called, she
peered under the little beetling cliff that overhung the well-known
ledge on which Lamh Laudher sat.
“I declare, John,” said she, on seeing him, “I thought at first you
weren't here.”
“Did you ever know me to be late!--” said John, taking her by the hand,
and placing her beside him; “and what would you a' done, Ellen, if I
hadn't been here?”
“Why, run home as if the life was lavin' me, for fear of seein'
something.”
“You needn't be afeard, Ellen, dear; nothing could harm you, at all
events. However, puttin' that aside, have you any betther tidin's than
you had when we met last?”
“I wish to heaven I had, John! but indeed I have far worse; ay, a
thousand times worse. They have all joined against me, an' I'm not to
see or speak to you at all.”
“That's hard,” replied Lamh Laudher, drawing his breath tightly; “but
I know where it comes from. I think your father might be softened a
little, ay, a great deal, if it wasn't for your brother Meehaul.”
“Indeed, Lamh Laudher, you're wrong in that; my father's as bitther
against you as he is. It was only on Tuesday evenin' last that they told
me, one an' all they would rather see me a corpse than your wife. Indeed
an' deed, John, I doubt it never can be.”
“There,” replied John, “I see plain enough that they'll gain you over
at last. That will be the end of it: but if you choose to break the vows
and promises that passed between us, you may do so.”
“Oh! Lamh Laudher,” said Ellen, affected at the imputation contained in
his last observation; “don't you treat me with such suspicion. I suffer
enough for your sake, as it is. For nearly two years, a day has hardly
passed that my family hasn't wrung the burnin' tears from my eyes on
your account. Haven't I refused matches that any young woman in my
station of life ought to be I proud to accept?”
“You did, Ellen, you did; but still I know how hard it is for you to
hould out against the persecution you suffer at home. No, no, Ellen
dear, I never doubted you for one minute. All I wondher at is, that such
a girl as you ever could think of one so humble as I am, compared to
what you'd have a right to expect an' could get.”
“Well, but if I'm willin' to prefer you, John?” said Ellen, with a
smile.
“One thing I know, Ellen,” he replied, “an' that is, that I'm far from
bein' worthy of you; an' I ought, if I had a high enough spirit, to try
to turn you against me, if it was only that you might marry a man that
'ud have it in his power to make you happier than ever I'll be able to
do; any way, than ever it's likely I'll be able to do.”
“I don't think, John, that ever money or the wealth of the world made a
man an' wife love one another yet, if they didn't do it before; but it
has often put their hearts against one another.”
“I agree wid you in that, Ellen; but you don't know how my heart sinks
when I think of your an' my own poverty. My poor father, since the
strange disappearance of little Alice, never was able to raise his head;
and indeed my mother was worse. If the child had died, an' that we knew
she slept with ourselves, it would be a comfort. But not to know what
became of her--whether she was drowned or kidnapped--that was what
crushed their hearts. I must say that since I grew up, we're improvin';
an' I hope, God willin', now that my father laves the management of the
farm to myself, we'll still improve more an' more. I hope it for their
sakes, but--more, if possible, for yours. I don't know what I wouldn't
do to make you happy, Ellen. If my life could do it, I think I could lay
it down to show the love I bear you. I could take to the highway and rob
for your sake, if I thought it would bring me means to make you happy.”
Ellen was touched by his sincerity, as well as by the tone of manly
sorrow with which he spoke. His last words, however, startled her, when
she considered the vehement manner in which he uttered them.
“John,” said she, alarmed, “never, while you have life, let me hear a
word of that kind out of your lips. No--never, for the sake of heaven
above us, breathe it, or think of it. But, I'll tell you something, an'
you must hear it, an' bear it too, with patience.”
“What is it, Ellen! If it's fair an' manly, I'll be guided by your
advice.”
“Meehaul has threatened to--to--I mane to say, that you musn't have any
quarrel with him, if he meets you or provokes you. Will you promise
this?”
“Meenaul has threatened to strike me, has he? An' I, a Lamh Laudher, am
to take a blow from a Neil, an' to thank him, I suppose, for givin' it.”
Ellen rose up and stood before him.
“Lamh Laudher,” said she, “I must now try your love for me in earnest.
A lie I cannot tell no more than I can cover the truth. My brother has
threatened to strike you, an' as I said afore, you must bear it for his
sister's sake.”
“No, _dher Chiernah_, never. That, Ellen, is goin' beyant what I'm able
to bear. Ask me to cut off my right hand for your sake, an' I'll do it;
ask my life, an' I'll give it: but to ask a Lamh Laudher to bear a
blow from a Neil--never. What! how could I rise my face afther such a
disgrace? How could I keep the country wid a Neil's blow, like the stamp
of a thief upon my forehead, an' me the first of my own faction, as your
brother is of his. No--never!”
“An' you say you love me, John?”
“Betther than ever man loved woman.”
“No, man--you don't,” she replied; “if you did, you'd give up something
for me. You'd bear that for my sake, an' not think it much. I'm
beginin' to believe, Lamh Laudher, that if I was a poor portionless
girl, it wouldn't be hard to put me out of your thoughts. If it was only
for my own sake you loved me, you'd not refuse me the first request I
ever made to you; when you know, too, that if I didn't think more of you
than I ought, I'd never make it.”
“Ellen, would you disgrace me? Would you wish me to bear the name of a
coward? Would you want my father to turn me out of the house? Would you
want my own faction to put their feet upon me, an' drive me from among
them?”
“John,” she replied, bursting into tears, “I do know that it's a sore
obligation to lay upon you, when everything's taken into account; but
if you wouldn't do this for me, who would you do it for? Before heaven,
John, I dread a meetin' between you an' my brother, afther what he tould
me; an' the only way of preventin' danger is for you not to strike him.
Oh, little you know what I have suffered these two days for both your
sakes! Lamh Laudher Oge, I doubt it would be well for me if I had never
seen your face.”
“Anything undher heaven but what you want me to do, Ellen.”
“Oh! don't refuse me this, John. I ask it, as I said, for both your
sake, an' for my own sake. Meehaul wouldn't strike an unresistin' man.
I won't lave you till you promise; an' if that won't do, I'll go down on
my. knees an' ask you for the sake of heaven above, to be guided by me
in this.”
“Ellen, I'll lave the country to avoid him, if that'll plase you.”
“No--no--no, John: that doesn't plase me. Is it to lave your father
an' family, an' you the staff of their support? Oh, John, give me your
promise. Here on my two knees I ask it from you, for my own, for your
own, and for the sake of God above us! I know Meehaul. If he got a blow
from you on my account, he'd never forgive it to either you or me.”
She joined her hands in supplication to him as she knelt, and the tears
chased each other like rain down her cheeks. The solemnity with which
she insisted on gaining her point staggered Lamh Laudher not a little.
“There must be something undher this,” he replied, “that makes you set
your heart on it so much. Ellen, tell me the truth; what is it?”
“If I loved you less, John, an' my brother too, I wouldn't care so much
about it. Remember that I'm a woman, an' on my knees before you. A
blow from you would make him take your life or mine, sooner than that I
should become your wife. You ought to know his temper.”
“You know, Ellen, I can't at heart refuse you any thing. I will not
strike your brother.”
“You promise, before God, that no provocation will make you strike him.”
“That's hard, Ellen; but--well, I do; before God, I won't--an' it's for
your sake I say it. Now, get up, dear, get up. You have got me to do
what no mortal livin' could bring me to but yourself. I suppose that's
what made you send Nanse M'Collum for my staff?”
“Nancy M'Collum! When?”
“Why, a while ago. She tould me a quare enough story, or rather no story
at all, only that you couldn't come, an' you could come, an' I was to
give up my staff to her by your ordhers.”
“She tould you false, John. I know nothing about what you say.”
“Well, Ellen,” replied Lamh Laudher, with a firm seriousness of manner,
“you have brought me into danger. I doubt, without knowin' it. For my
own part, I don't care so much. Her unlucky aunt met me comin' here this
evenin', and threatened both our family and yours. I know she would sink
us into the earth if she could. Either she or your brother is at the
bottom of this business, whatever it is. Your brother I don't fear; but
she is to be dreaded, if, all's true that's said about her.”
“No, John--she surely couldn't have the heart to harm, you an' me. Oh,
but I'm light now, since you did what I wanted you. No harm can come
between you and Meehaul; for I often heard him say, when speakin'
about his faction fights, that no one but a coward would, strike an
unresistin' man. Now come and see me pass the Pedlar's Cairn, an'
remember that you'll thank me for what I made you do this night. Come
quickly--I'll be missed.”
They then passed on by a circuitous and retired path that led round the
orchard, until he had conducted her in safety beyond the Pedlar's Cairn,
which was so called from a heap of stones that had been loosely piled
together, to mark the spot as the scene of a murder, whose history, thus
perpetuated by the custom of every passenger casting a stone upon the
place, constituted one of the local traditions of the neighborhood.
After a tender good-night, given in a truly poetical manner under the
breaking light of a May moon, he found it necessary to retrace his steps
by a path which wound round the orchard, and terminated in the public
entrance to the town. Along this suburban street he had advanced but a
short way, when he found himself overtaken and arrested by his bitter
and determined foe, Meehaul Neil. The connection betwixt the promise
that Ellen had extorted from him and this rencounter with her brother
flashed upon him forcibly: he resolved, however, to be guided by her
wishes, and with this purpose on his part, the following dialogue took
place between the heads of the rival factions. When we say, however,
that Lamh Laudher was the head of his party, we beg to be understood as
alluding only to his personal courage and prowess; for there were in it
men of far greater wealth and of higher respectability, so far as mere
wealth could confer the latter.
“Lamh Laudher,” said Meehaul, “whenever a Neil spakes to you, you may
know it's hot in friendship.”
“I know that, Meehaul Neil, without hearin' it from you. Spake, what
have you to say?”
“There was a time,” observed the other, “when you and I were enemies
only because our cleaveens were enemies but now there is, an' you know
it, a blacker hatred between us.”
“I would rather there was not, Meehaul; for my own part, I have no
ill-will against either you or yours, all you know that; so when you
talk of hatred, spake only for yourself.”
“Don't be mane, man,” said Neil; “don't make them that hates you despise
you into the bargain.”
Lamh Laudher turned towards him fiercely, and his eye gleamed with
passion; but he immediately recollected himself, and simply said--
“What is your business with me this night, Meehaul Neil?”
“You'll know that soon enough--sooner, maybe, than you wish. I now ask
you to tell me, if you are an honest man, where you have been?”
“I am as honest, Meehaul, as any man that ever carried the name of Neil
upon him, an' yet I won't tell you that, till you show me what right you
have to ask me.”
“I b'lieve you forget that I'm Ellen Neil's brother: now, Lamh Laudher,
as her brother, I choose to insist on your answering me.”
“Is it by her wish?”
“Suppose I say it is.”
“Ay! but I won't suppose that, till you lay your right hand on your
heart, and declare as an honest man, that--tut, man--this is nonsense.
Meehaul, go home--I would rather there was friendship between us.”
“You were with Ellen, this night in the! Grassy Quarry.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“I saw you both--I watched you both; you left her beyond the Pedlar's
Cairn, an' you're now on your way home.”
“An' the more mane you, Meehaul, to become a spy upon a girl that
you know is as pure as the light from heaven. You ought to blush for
doubtin' sich a sister, or thinkin' it your duty to watch her as you
do.”
“Lamh Laudher, you say that you'd rather there was no ill-will between
us.”
“I say that, God knows, from my heart out.”
“Then there's one way that it may be so. Give up Ellen; you'll find it
for your own interest to do so.”
“Show me that, Meehaul.”
“Give her up, I say, an' then I may tell you.”
“Meehaul, good-night. Go home.”
They had now entered the principal street of the town, and as they
proceeded in what appeared to be an earnest, perhaps a friendly
conversation, many of their respective acquaintances, who lounged in the
moonlight about their doors, were not a little surprised at seeing them
in close conference. When Lamh Laudher wished him good night, he
had reached an off street which led towards his father's house, a
circumstance at which he rejoiced, as it would have been the means, he
hoped, of terminating a dialogue that was irksome to both parties. He
found himself, however, rather unexpectedly and rudely arrested by his
companion.
“We can't part, Lamh Laudher,” said Meehaul seizing him by the collar,
“'till this business is settled--I mane till you promise to give my
sister up.”
“Then we must stand here, Meehaul, as long as we live--an' I surely
won't do that.”
“You must give her up, man.”
“Must! Is it must from a Neil to a Lamh Laudher? You forgot yourself,
Meehaul: you are rich now, an' I'm poor now; but any old friend can tell
you the differ between your grandfather an' mine. Must, indeed!”
“Ay; must is the word, I say; an' I tell you that from this spot you
won't go till you swear it, or this stick--an' it's a good one--will
bring you to submission.”
“I have no stick, an' I suppose I may thank you for that.”
“What do you mane?” said Neil; “but no matter--I don't want it.
There--to the divil with it;” and as he spoke he threw it over the roof
of the adjoining house.
“Now give up my sister or take the consequence.”
“Meehaul, go home, I say. You know I don't fear any single man that ever
breathed; but, above all men on this earth, I wish to avoid a quarrel
with you. Do you think, in the mean time, that even if I didn't care a
straw for your sister, I could be mane enough to let myself be bullied
out of her by you, or any of your faction? Never, Meehaul; so spare your
breath, an' go home.”
Several common acquaintances had collected about them, who certainly
listened to this angry dialogue between the two faction leaders with
great interest. Both were powerful men, young, strong, and muscular.
Meehaul, of the two, was taller, his height being above six feet,
his strength, courage, and activity, unquestionably very great. Lamh
Laudher, however, was as fine a model of physical strength, just
proportion, and manly beauty as ever was created; his arms, in
particular, were of terrific strength, a physical advantage so peculiar
to his family as to occasion the epithet by which it was known. He had
scarcely uttered the reply we have I written, when Meehaul, with his
whole! strength, aimed a blow at his stomach, which the other so far
turned aside, as to bring it I higher up on his chest. He staggered
back, after receiving it, about seven or eight yards, but did not fall.
His eye literally blazed, and for a moment he seemed disposed to act!
under the strong impulse of self-defence. The solemnity of his promise
to Ellen, however, recurred to him in time to restrain his uplifted
arm. By a strong and sudden effort he endeavored to compose himself, and
succeeded. He approached Meehaul, and with as much calmness as he could
assume, said--
“Meehaul, I stand before you an' you may strike, but I won't return your
blows: I have reasons for it, but I tell you the truth.”
“You won't fight?” said Meehaul, with mingled rage and scorn.
“No,” replied the other, “I won't fight you.”
A murmur of “shame” and “coward” was heard from those who had been drawn
together by their quarrel.
“_Dher ma chorp_,” they exclaimed with astonishment, “but Lamh Laudher's
afeard of him!--the _garran bane's_ in him, now that he finds he has met
his match.”
“Why, hard fortune to you, Lamh Laudher, will you take a blow from a
Neil? Are you goin' to disgrace your name?”
“I won't fight him,” replied he to whom they spoke, and the uncertainty
of his manner was taken for want of courage.
“Then,” said Meehaul, “here, before witnesses, I give you the coward,
that you may carry the name to the last hour of your life.”
He inflicted, when uttering the words, a blow with his open hand on Lamh
Laudher's cheek, after which he desired the spectators to bear witness
to what he had done. The whole crowd was mute with astonishment, not a
murmur more was heard; but they looked upon the two rival champions, and
then upon each other with amazement. The high-minded young man had but
one course to pursue. Let the consequence be what it might, he could
not think for a moment of compromising the character of Ellen, nor
of violating his promise, so solemnly given; with a flushed cheek,
therefore, and a brow redder even with shame than indignation, he left
the crowd without speaking' a word, for he feared that by indulging in
any further recrimination on the subject, his resolution might give way
under the impetuous resentment which he curbed in with such difficulty.
Meehaul Neil paused and looked after him, equally struck with surprise
and contempt at his apparent want of spirit.
“Well,” he exclaimed to those who stood about him, “by the life within
me, if all the parish had sworn that Lamh Laudher Oge was a coward, I'd
not a b'lieved them!”
“Faix, Misther Neil, who would, no more, than yourself?” they replied;
“devil the likes of it ever we seen! The young fellow that no man could
stand afore five minutes!”
“That is,” replied others, “bekase he never met a man that would fight
him. You see when he did, how he has turned out. One thing any how is
clear enough--after this he can never rise his head while he lives.”