It was late in a dreary night of November. The wind blew a perfect
hurricane, rushing up the thick avenue which led to the Glebe house of
Clogheen, driving before it in its fury vast clouds of withered leaves it
had collected on its way, and showering them in impotent wrath against the
doors and windows of the house, which shook and clattered as if each had
its own separate assailant. Midnight--black midnight had passed, and the
faint light of a rising moon was beginning to mingle with the disturbed
and dismal air. It was no night for mortals to forsake quiet and
comfortable beds, and, least of all, delicate female invalids; yet Katey
Tyrrel, shadowy and wan as a ghost, was standing at this hour watching the
roaring tempest from the windows of the conservatory, that looked upon the
front lawn of the dwelling. She had not, however, been long stationed
there, when the darkness of the spot in which she stood (for there was no
candle) was made still murkier by the shadow of a man who appeared
outside. Katey softly undid the Venetian door, and Hewitt stood before
her.
"Dear, dear girl! how am I to thank you?" he murmured as he pressed with
impassioned eagerness the hand she extended to him.
"Speak low--low--low!" whispered the confused and trembling maiden. "Oh,
what a night--what an hour to meet in!"
"Any where--every where--no where--no matter--with you it is paradise to
me!" ejaculated her lover with a random delight. "How did you manage the
dogs though?"
"Oh--I--locked Buffer in the stables, ever so far off--and Bang--indeed
_he_ is so savage I was obliged to take him a field away, to the
potatoe-house;" and Katey felt her cheek blush, until she feared it would
light the gloom.
"High-souled, devoted being! how am I rewarded for all I have gone
through! You are indeed worthy to share the existence of one like me,
whose hopes have been ruined in the holiest cause that----but there is not
a single minute to lose--I have horses ready beyond the avenue gate--oh,
come, my Katey--'fly from a world'--etcetera. You know the song."
"Fly!--dear friend--you rave--do you not know how ill I have been? Can you
not see what a wretched thin fright I have become."
"Nonsense, my love, you look--(for dark as it is I can see that)--a
thousand times more interesting with that pale sweet face. My own life,
this is no time to trifle--who could suppose you were so undecided, you so
lofty-spirited, so _heroine_-like.--Oh, Katey"----
"Believe me, Hewitt, I have not strength even to mount, much less to sit a
horse at present."
"Then, why this meeting, my love?"
"Why--why--I scarce can tell; surely it is a pleasure to meet for once,
even in this way, after all we have suffered."
"Decidedly"--said her lover with an abstracted air. "I'll tell you what,"
he added eagerly, as if struck by some sudden thought, "there is fearful
danger of our being separated if we do not act quickly, and for ever.
Suppose--suppose, my beloved one--you now here, in this blest spot, give
me a _legal_ claim to your hand, we may not again have such an
opportunity?"
"What--how do you mean?" asked Katey bewilderingly.
"Why, you see the truth is this--I _did_ dread your health might have
interfered with active flight--might not have been such as seconded our
wishes--and I came prepared--the fact is, I have brought a Reverend Friend
with me--you understand?--he is now not far away--indeed, he is just
outside."
"Hewitt!--are you mad!" exclaimed the overwhelmed girl, shrinking away. "I
cannot--indeed, I cannot, think of such a thing."
"Folly--stuff! I see, my beloved one, I must act for you in this
matter"----
To go to the window--give a gentle tap--summon a low corpulent little man
before it--to seize him by the neck and drag him softly into the room, as
though the unwieldy individual were unable to accomplish the feat
himself--was but the work of an instant; the next, Hewitt had caught the
half-swooning Katey's hand and led her forward.
"'_D-d-dom-dominus adimp-p-p-lea bened-d-dic_ (hic!) _benedictionem suam
in v-v-v-obis!_ (hic!)" stutteringly whispered the new-comer, while the
powerful smell of whisky-punch, which began to pervade the apartment, bore
far less testimony to his piety than to his potations.
"Douce your lingo!" muttered Hewitt. "Keep it till 'tis called
for.----Now, my own dear Katey," he said in his most persuasive tone, "let
this moment make you mine--mine indissolubly. Come, Father Larr,[25] there
is not an instant to spare--do your office;" and supporting Katey, and
half-forcibly, half-entreatingly, bringing her forward, he stood with her
before the priest--if indeed it is right to profane that name by
conferring it on the drunken and dissolute creature, who, long since
expelled from the altar, was forced to depend for a livelihood on his
services in such desperate hours of need as the present.
"Oh, Hewitt, give me a moment--my father--Lysaght--I did not look for
this"--murmured the agitated bride.
"Then such is your faith after all?" whispered Hewitt; "but as you
please--even here--at this moment I give you up for ever, since you desire
it."
"No--it is God's will--there is no use in struggling against my fate--I am
ready," she answered, endeavouring to rouse her stupified faculties.
"Go on, then," whispered her lover to the priest, "be quick!"
"_Co--co--conjungo vos_," began Father Larr as he joined their hands, "_in
nom--nom_--(hic!)--_nomine P--p--patris_ (hic!) _et
F--f--f--fil_--(hic!)"--
The rest of his articulation was effectually stopped by his receiving,
full in the face, the contents of what he felt to be a basin of cold
water, conferred, it appeared to him, by the hands of the timid bride;
while, at the same time, a voice that split the very room like thunder
saluted the group with a blessing from the Virgin and St Patrick, and
Sally-the-tin stood beside them, who, however, no sooner recognised
Hewitt, with whose grasp she had before now been familiar, than she set up
a shriek in which entreaty, benediction, curse, complaint, and
consternation, were so vociferously blended that it would have alarmed
Erebus. The next instant the whole house above and around them was heard
in commotion; bells rung, and were instantly answered by the noise of
heavy bodies jumping out of bed; windows raising; servant-women squalling;
and grooms rushing madly down-stairs. Miss Tyrrel sank fainting on the
spot; and Hewitt had but time to treat Sally-the-tin to a parting kick,
which conveyed her in a state of collapse to a small bower of pelargoniums
at the further end of the green-house, drag his reverend friend through
the window, and disappear, when the whole effective force of the household
burst into the apartment.