The widow and her son devoted the next day to an active supervision of
their nets. In the evening a gentle westerly breeze, which had brought
in their boat safely to shore, was still blowing, and Dermot having
prepared the fish for the next day's market, ascended to the downs above
the cottage. As he gazed over the ocean, he saw under all sail,
standing in for the shore, a beautiful ship. She had royals set, and
studding-sails below and aloft on either side. It was evident she
wished to come to an anchor before dark, and he concluded from the
course she was steering, that she proposed bringing up in the bay, a
reef extending out, on the north side of it, affording her sufficient
shelter from the wind then blowing. Dermot watched the ship with
intense interest. The masts seemed so tall, the canvas so white, and
the yards extending so far on either side. On she came like a graceful
swan, gliding over the azure bosom of the deep, surrounded as it were
with the golden rays of the setting sun playing over the water in which
she floated. Dermot had not believed that any vessel so beautiful was
to be found on the ocean. She seemed so graceful, so fairy-like. As
she drew nearer her sides appeared highly polished, and all about her
wore an air of perfect order. A distant strain of music reached his ear
from the deck. On a sudden men were seen swarming up her rigging.
Every yard was covered. Now the studding-sails came in as if by magic.
The royals and the topgallant sails were handed, the topsails were
furled, the courses brailed up, and in a few seconds she was under bare
poles, when her anchor was let go with a loud rattling sound in the
securest part of the bay, showing that those on board were well
acquainted with the coast.
As he looked down on the gallant frigate, for such she was, Dermot's
admiration increased more and more. He could not help wishing to be on
board so fine a craft, and he determined to take the first opportunity
of visiting her.
On his return to the hut, he told his mother of the arrival of the
frigate.
"She comes as a friend, I hope," remarked the widow; "it is not many
years ago that I have seen vessels in this bay, which came with very
different intentions."
No one was seen, however, to land from the strange frigate, but the
widow, on further consideration, resolved to pay a visit on board, in
the hopes of disposing of the fish they had just caught, calculating
that a further supply might be obtained for the castle the following
day.
Dermot was glad of an excuse for going on board: as it was now too late
to visit her, it was arranged that they should go off the first thing on
the following morning. Although he and his mother could manage the boat
by themselves, he did not know how she might be received on board; he
therefore invited his Uncle Shane to accompany them, advising him to
carry a supply of his own fish for sale.
Early the next morning the boat was alongside the frigate. The vendors
of fish are generally welcomed by men-of-war's-men, and they very
quickly disposed of all they possessed; the only complaint of the
sailors being, that they had not brought off enough vegetables and other
fresh productions.
Dermot was invited on board, and as he showed his curiosity in all he
saw, he was allowed to go over the whole of the ship. Great was his
wonder as he examined her polished guns, the decks, white as snow, one
below the other, the ropes on the upper deck so beautifully flemished
down. The men were at breakfast, between decks. The tin mess utensils
were spread out before them. Dermot was shown how the hammocks were
hung up at night, and where they were stowed in the hammock-nettings in
the day time. He gazed aloft at the symmetrical yards and ropes, and
wondered at the perfect order which reigned around; so different to what
he had been accustomed to in the small fishing-vessels and coasters, the
only craft with which he was acquainted.
"Would you like to come to sea, lad?" said a rough sailor, putting his
hand on Dermot's shoulder; "you would make an active young topman in a
few years. There's something in you, I see. What do you say? Will you
ship aboard us? I can answer for it you would get a berth, for our
captain likes such as you."
Dermot was pleased with the compliment paid him, though uttered in a
rough way.
"Ah! if I had my heart's wish, I would do as you say," he answered; "but
there's one I cannot leave, and I do not think you would if you were in
my place."
"Who's that?" asked the sailor.
"My mother, I am her only child," answered Dermot.
"I ran away from my mother, and yet I was her only son," replied the
sailor, as he dashed a tear from his eye. "No, boy, I am not one to
advise you to do as I did. I know not whether she is alive or dead, for
never from that day to this, have I had the chance of returning home."
The widow was highly pleased with the transactions on board, for
whatever spice of romance there was in her, she never forgot the
importance of making a good bargain for her fish. Shane was delighted,
and undertook to return on board the next day.
Another successful expedition enabled Dermot to carry a supply of fish
to Mrs Rafferty at the castle. His modesty induced him to enter by the
back way, and on asking for her, after waiting some time, he was told he
might go and see her in her room. The good lady told him that she
expected the family every instant, and would take all the fish he had
brought. Dermot hurried away, fearful that they might arrive while he
was in the castle, and that he might lose the opportunity of seeing
them. He sat himself down by the side of the road which the carriages
must pass, in the hopes of gaining a glimpse of the lady who had taken
his portrait, as well as of the fair little girl her companion. He
thought very little of the rest of the party. At length, after waiting
some time, his patience was rewarded by seeing the carriages approach.
Not only were the ladies there, but they both saw him, and Lady Nora
gave a half-nod of recognition, and then turned to her companion, as if
to speak about him. Dermot would gladly have found any excuse for
returning to the castle, but as this was impossible, he hurried home,
hoping to be able to visit it the next day with a further supply of
fish. On his way he saw a boat pulling rapidly from the frigate towards
the landing-place under the castle walls. In her stern-sheets sat an
officer, who by the gold epaulets on his shoulders and his cocked hat,
he naturally concluded was the captain. Poor Dermot had very little
chance after this of attracting the attention of Lady Sophy. The boat
reached the shore, when the captain sprang out, and hurried up to the
castle. He was received with great courtesy and respect by the Earl and
his guests.
"You are indeed welcome, Falkner!" exclaimed the Earl, cordially shaking
him by the hand, "we little expected having the pleasure of seeing you.
What fortunate chance brings you into our bay?"
"We received information that there was some idea of a rising in this
part of the country, and I was ordered to cruise off the coast,"
answered the captain of the frigate. "Hearing also that you were about
to return to Kilfinnan Castle, as it was in the way of duty, I took the
opportunity of coming into the bay to visit you, and at the same time to
make inquiries as to the truth of the report."
"You are very welcome, Captain Falkner, and we are very happy to see
you," said the Earl, casting a significant glance towards Lady Sophy;
"as to the rising, I rather think the Government has been misled;
however, it is as well to be prepared, and the appearance of the frigate
on the coast may prevent the people from committing any act of folly."
"I hope so, indeed," said Captain Falkner; "for the blood of too many of
the misguided people has been shed already. They may bring much misery
and suffering on themselves, and they may do a great deal of mischief in
the country, but while England's fleet and England's army remain
faithful, their wild schemes have not the remotest prospect of success."
"No, indeed!" answered the Earl, in a somewhat scornful tone, "unless
men of character and true bravery were to lead them, they will always be
defeated as they have hitherto been. For my own part I have not the
slightest fear on the subject. However, I repeat that I am not sorry
that any excuse should have brought you into our bay."
Captain Falkner after this received the welcome of the rest of the
guests, with most of whom he was acquainted.
Lady Sophy blushed as she held out her hand, and the gallant captain
took it with a look which showed there was a perfect understanding
between them. He had already obtained a name which gave him rank among
the bravest of England's naval heroes. They before long found an excuse
for walking out together on a beautiful terrace, which extended under
the cliffs, beyond the castle to the south. The conversation need not
be repeated, it was very evident, however, that Captain Falkner was an
accepted suitor of Lady Sophy's, although there were some impediments to
their immediate union.
He told her that he expected to be on the coast for some time, for he
still believed, in spite of the Earl's assertions, that there was a
considerable number of persons disaffected in that part of the country,
who would be induced to rise, should a leader make his appearance among
them.
"Although I may sail away for a few days at a time, I shall constantly
be on the watch, and the thought that you may be placed in danger, will
certainly not make me the less vigilant," he observed, pressing Lady
Sophy's hand.
"But suppose you were to hear there would be a rising in this place, and
another at some distance, to which would you then go?" asked Lady Sophy.
"Would it not place you in a difficulty?"
"I tell you frankly, I would endeavour to forget in which place you
were, and should steer for the one in which I believed my services were
most imperatively demanded."
"Yes, I am sure you would act thus," she answered, casting on him a look
of admiration and affection. "I do not value your love the less on that
account, believe me."
Captain Falkner had to return on board in the evening, but promised to
visit the castle next day.
He arrived just as Dermot made his appearance with a basket of fish.
"Oh! that is the boy whose portrait you were admiring so much, Captain
Falkner," said Lady Sophy, pointing to Dermot as he was passing the
hall-door.
"Come in, boy," said another lady; "we wish to see if your portrait has
done you justice."
Dermot entered in his usual fearless manner, carrying his basket of
fish. The portrait was produced, and another lady insisted that he
should remain until she had taken a sketch of him for herself.
"By-the-bye," said the Earl, "have you got any good by going to the
minister, boy?"
"Yes, indeed I have, sir," said Dermot warmly, "there is many a book I
have learned to read, and though I found writing more hard, I am able to
copy whatever Mr Jamieson gives me, and while he reads I can write
after him. And there is history and geography and many more things he
has taught me."
"Ah, I must go over and thank him," said the Earl. "And do you wish,
boy, to continue under his instruction?"
"Indeed I do, sir," answered Dermot.
"Oh, but we were teaching you," exclaimed Lady Nora, who had just then
come into the hall. "You must come and let Lady Sophy and me give you
lessons as we did before."
"Indeed I am honoured, ladies," answered Dermot, with an air which none
but an Irish boy, even of much higher rank, could have assumed.
"Although I am grateful to the minister for all he has taught me, I
should be thankful to receive further lessons from you."
The Earl was somewhat amused at the thoughts of his little daughter
giving instruction to the young fisher-boy. At the same time,
good-natured and thoughtless, he made not the slightest objection.
Indeed he never thwarted Nora in anything she had taken it into her head
to wish for, and certainly he was not likely to do so in a matter so
trifling as this.
Dermot appeared, as he had been invited, to receive his lessons, but was
somewhat surprised to find that Lady Nora was scarcely as advanced in
some branches of knowledge as himself.
"Indeed you have made great progress," said Lady Sophy, who had
undertaken to be the chief instructress. "If you persevere you will
soon become as well educated as most young gentlemen of the day. I am
acquainted with several, indeed, who don't know as much as you do."
These remarks encouraged Dermot to persevere, even with more
determination than before. Every moment he could spare from his duties,
he was now engaged in reading.
His poor mother looked on with astonishment that her boy should thus
become so learned, and more than once it entered into her mind that it
was a pity she had not allowed him to follow Father O'Rourke's
suggestion, and become a priest. "He would have been a bishop to a
certainty," she exclaimed to herself--"and only think to be a holy
bishop, certain of heaven. What a great man he would have been made, a
cardinal, and that he would have been, if His Holiness the Pope had ever
become acquainted with him. I wonder now if it's too late, but I'm
afraid after what he said to Father O'Rourke that his Reverence will
never give him a helping hand."
Such and similar thoughts frequently passed through the mind of the poor
widow. More than once she ventured to broach the subject to her son,
but he shook his head with a look of disgust.
"If I am ever to be otherwise than what I am, I hope never to become
like Father O'Rourke. No, no, mother I have other thoughts, and do not,
I pray you, ever ask me again to become a priest."
The next visit Dermot paid to the castle, he was detained longer than
usual by another lady insisting on taking his portrait. His feelings
rather rebelled against this. He had been flattered when Lady Sophy had
first taken it, but he did not much like the idea of being made a figure
for the exercise of other fair artists' pencils, still his natural
feelings of politeness prevented him from showing the annoyance he felt.
While the lady was proceeding with her work, he gathered from the
conversation around him that some one of importance was expected at the
castle, and he at length made out that the young heir--Lord Fitz Barry--
was looked for during the afternoon.
Dermot had never seen him, for during the previous summer, he had not
returned home, having remained with his tutor in England. He found that
the carriage had been sent for the young Lord to the neighbouring town.
As soon as the ladies dismissed him, Dermot took his way along the road
by which he would reach the castle.
He had not long to wait before he saw an open carriage with the Earl in
it, and by his side a young boy bearing a strong resemblance to Lady
Nora.
There were the same blue eyes and the fair complexion and rich auburn
air possessed by his sister, at the same time there was a manly look and
expression in his countenance--boy as he was--which at once won Dermot's
respect.
"Ah, he has the old blood of his family in his veins," thought Dermot,
"and when he comes to man's estate, he'll prove, I hope, the same
kind-hearted, honest man that his father is."
Well pleased with his morning visit to the castle, Dermot returned to
his humble cottage. Did he ever draw a contrast between the two abodes?
Yes, but he was not discontented with his lot. He loved his mother,
and he knew that his mother loved him above all earthly things, and that
she would not exchange him, even to dwell in that lordly castle. Still,
as Dermot advanced in knowledge and in age, he could not help
discovering that his mother was ignorant and prone to superstition.
Indeed with pain he sometimes suspected that her mind was not altogether
perfectly right. She would sit occasionally talking to herself, and now
and then speak of strange events which had passed in her youth, of which
she would give no explanation. He, however, quickly banished this
latter idea, as too painful to be entertained. She loved him, what more
could he desire? When he was anxious about her, he reflected that she
had secured more than one friend in the neighbourhood. That his uncle
Shane was devoted to her, and that the kind Miss O'Reilly had promised
always to watch over her.
Many wild thoughts and schemes passed frequently through Dermot's mind.
He dared not at first give utterance to them, not even to himself, and
he would have found it impossible to mention them to any human being.
Mr Jamieson, more than once, had spoken to him of the future, and
hinted that if the way was open to him, he would scarcely fail, with the
talents and application he possessed, of rising in life. It was very
natural in Mr Jamieson to think this, for he knew that a fisher-boy's
existence on the west coast of Ireland was one of ill-requited toil, and
of great danger. Holding this opinion, he felt that the boy would not
change for the worse, and would certainly improve his position in
whatever calling he might engage.