THE WARNING--SHOWING HOW LARRY TOOLE FARED--WHOM HE SAW AND WHAT HE
SAID--AND HOW MUCH GOOD AND HOW LITTLE HE DID--AND MOREOVER RELATING
HOW SOMEBODY WAS LAID IN THE MIRE--AND HOW HENRY ASHWOODE PUT HIS FOOT
IN THE STIRRUP.
Flurried and frightened as Larry was, his agitation was not strong
enough to overcome in him the national, instinctive abhorrence of the
character of an informer. To the close interrogatories of his master,
he returned but vague and evasive answers. A few dark hints he threw
out as to the cause of his alarm, but preserved an impenetrable silence
respecting alike its particular nature and the persons of whose
participation in the scheme he was satisfied.
In language incoherent and nearly unintelligible from excitement, he
implored O'Connor to allow him to absent himself for about one hour,
promising the most important results, in case his request was complied
with, and vowing upon his return to tell him everything about the
matter from beginning to end.
Seeing the agonized earnestness of the man, though wholly uninformed of
the cause of his uneasiness, which Larry constantly refused to divulge,
O'Connor granted him the permission which he desired, and both left the
building together. O'Connor pursued his way to the "Cock and Anchor,"
where, restored to his chamber and to solitude, he abandoned himself
once more to the current of his wayward thoughts.
Our friend Larry, however, was no sooner disengaged from his master,
than he began, at his utmost speed, to thread the narrow and
complicated lanes and streets which lay between the haunt of profligacy
which we have just described, and the eastern extremity of the city.
After an interrupted run of nearly half an hour through pitchy dark and
narrow streets, he emerged into Stephen's Green; at the eastern side of
which, among other buildings of lesser note, there then stood, and
perhaps (with a new face, and some slight external changes) still
stands, a large and handsome mansion. Toward this building, conspicuous
in the distance by the red glare of dozens of links and torches which
flared and flashed outside, and by the gay light streaming from its
many windows, Larry made his way. Too eager and hurried to pass along
the sides of the square by the common road, he clambered over the
broken wall which surrounded it, plunged through the broad trench, and
ran among the deep grass and rank weeds, now heavy with the dews of
night; over the broad area he pursued his way, startling the quiet
cattle from their midnight slumbers, and hastening rather than abating
his speed, as he drew near to the termination of his hurried mission.
As he approached, the long dark train of carriages, every here and
there lighted by some flaming link still unextinguished, and surrounded
by crowds of idle footmen, sufficiently indicated the scene of Lady
Stukely's hospitalities. In a moment Larry had again crossed the fences
which enclosed the square, and passing the broad road among the
carriages, chairs, and lackeys, he sprang up the steps of the house,
and thundered lustily at the hall-door. It was opened by a gruff and
corpulent porter with a red face and majestic demeanour, who, having
learned from Larry that he had an important message for Mr. Henry
Ashwoode, desired him, in as few words as possible, to step into the
hall. The official then swung the massive door to, rolled himself into
his well-cushioned throne, and having scanned Larry's proportions for a
minute or two with one eye, which he kept half open for such purposes,
he ejaculated--
"Mr. Finley, I say, Mr. Finley, here's one with a message upwards."
Having thus delivered himself, he shut down his open eye, screwed his
eyebrows, and became absorbed in abstruse meditation. Meanwhile, Mr.
Finley, in person arrayed in a rich livery, advanced languidly toward
Larry Toole, throwing into his face a dreamy and supercilious
expression, while with one hand he faintly fanned himself with a white
pocket handkerchief.
"Your most obedient servant to command," drawled the footman, as he
advanced. "What can I do, my good soul, to _obleege_ you?"
"I only want to see the young master--that's young Mr. Ashwoode,"
replied Larry, "for one minute, and that's all."
The footman gazed upon him for a moment with a languid smile, and
observed in the same sleepy tone, "Absolutely impossible--_amposseeble_,
as they say at the Pallais Royal."
"But, blur an' agers," exclaimed Larry, "it's a matther iv life an'
death, robbery an' murdher."
"Bloody murder!" echoed the man in a sweet, low voice, and with a stare
of fashionable abstraction.
"Well, tear an' 'oun's," cried Larry, almost beside himself with
impatience, "if you won't bring him down to me, will you even as much
as carry him a message?"
"To say the truth, and upon my honour," replied the man, "I can't
engage to climb up stairs just now, they are so devilish fatiguing.
Don't you find them so?"
The question was thrown out in that vacant, inattentive way which seems
to dispense with an answer.
"By my soul!" rejoined Larry, almost crying with vexation, "it's a hard
case. Do you mane to tell me, you'll neither bring him down to me nor
carry him up a message?"
"You have, my excellent fellow," replied the footman, placidly,
"precisely conveyed my meaning."
"By the hokey!" cried Larry, "you're fairly breaking my heart. In the
divil's name, can you as much as let me stop here till he's comin'
down?"
"Absolutely impossible," replied the footman, in the same dulcet and
deliberate tone. "It is indeed _amposseeble_, as the Parisians have it.
You _must_ be aware, my good old soul, that you're in a positive
pickle. You are, pardon me, my excellent friend, very dirty and very
disgusting. You must therefore go out in a few moments into the fresh
air." At any other moment, such a speech would have infallibly provoked
Mr. Toole's righteous and most rigorous vengeance; but he was now too
completely absorbed in the mission which he had undertaken to suffer
personal considerations to have a place in his bosom.
"Will you, then," he ejaculated desperately, "will you as much as give
him a message yourself, when he's comin' down?"
"What message?" drawled the lackey.
"Tell him, for the love of God, to take the _old_ road home, by the
seven sallies," replied Larry. "Will you give him that message, if it
isn't too long?"
"I have a wretched memory for messages," observed the footman, as he
leisurely opened the door--"a perfect sieve: but should he catch my eye
as he passes, I'll endeavour, upon my honour; good night--adieu!"
As he thus spoke, Larry had reached the threshold of the door, which
observing, the polished footman, with a _nonchalant_ and easy air,
slammed the hall-door, thereby administering upon Larry's back,
shoulders, and elbows, such a bang as to cause Mr. Toole to descend the
flight of steps at a pace much more marvellous to the spectators than
agreeable to himself. Muttering a bitter curse upon his exquisite
acquaintance, Larry took his stand among the expectants in the street;
there resolved to wait and watch for young Ashwoode, and to give him
the warning which so nearly concerned his safety.
Meanwhile, Lady Stukely's drawing-rooms were crowded by the gay, the
fashionable, and the frivolous, of all ages. Young Ashwoode stood
behind his wealthy hostess's chair, while she played quadrille, scarce
knowing whether she won or lost, for Henry Ashwoode had never been so
fascinating before. Lady Stukely was a delicate, die-away lady, not
very far from sixty; the natural blush upon her nose outblazoned the
rouge upon her cheeks; several very long teeth--"ivory and ebon
alternately"--peeped roguishly from beneath her upper lip, which her
ladyship had a playful trick of screwing down, to conceal them--a trick
which made her ladyship's smile rather a surprising than an attractive
exhibition. It is but justice, however, to admit that she had a pair of
very tolerable eyes, with which she executed the most masterly
evolutions. For the rest, there having existed a very considerable
disparity in years between herself and her dear deceased, Sir Charles
Stukely, who had expired at the mature age of ninety, more than a year
before, she conceived herself still a very young, artless, and
interesting girl; and under this happy hallucination she was more than
half inclined to return in good earnest the disinterested affection of
Henry Ashwoode.
There, too, was old Lord Aspenly, who had, but two days before,
solicited and received Sir Richard Ashwoode's permission to pay his
court to his beautiful daughter, Mary. There, jerking and shrugging and
grimacing, he hobbled through the rooms, all wrinkles and rappee;
bandying compliments and repartees, flirting and fooling, and beyond
measure enchanted with himself, while every interval in frivolity and
noise was filled up with images of his approaching nuptials and
intended bride, while she, poor girl, happily unconscious of all their
plans, was spared, for that night, the pangs and struggles which were
hereafter but too severely to try her heart.
'Twere needless to enumerate noble peers, whose very titles are now
unknown--poets, who alas! were mortal--men of promise, who performed
nothing--clever young men, who grew into stupid old ones--and
millionaires, whose money perished with them; we shall not, therefore,
weary the reader by describing Lady Stukely's guests; let it suffice to
mention that Henry Ashwoode left the rooms with young Pigwiggynne, of
Bolton's regiment of dragoons, and one of Lord Wharton's aides-de-camp.
This circumstance is here recorded because it had an effect in
producing the occurrences which we have to relate by-and-by; for young
Pigwiggynne having partaken somewhat freely of Lady Stukely's wines,
and being unusually exhilarated, came forth from the hall-door to
assist Ashwoode in procuring a chair, which he did with a good deal
more noise and blasphemy than was strictly necessary. Our friend Larry
Toole, who had patiently waited the egress of his _quondam_ young
master, no sooner beheld him than he hastened to accost him, but
Pigwiggynne being, as we have said, in high spirits and unusual good
humour, cut short poor Larry's address by jocularly knocking him on the
head with a heavy walking-cane--a pleasantry which laid that person
senseless upon the pavement. The humorist passed on with an
exhilarating crow, after the manner of a cock; and had not a
matter-of-fact chairman drawn Mr. Toole from among the coach-wheels
where the joke had happened to lay him, we might have been saved the
trouble of recording the subsequent history of that very active member
of society. Meanwhile, young Ashwoode was conveyed in a chair to a
neighbouring fashionable hotel, where, having changed his suit, and
again equipped himself for the road, he mounted his horse, and followed
by his treacherous groom, set out at a brisk pace upon his hazardous,
and as it turned out, eventful night-ride toward the manor of Morley
Court.