Ned Davis, when he came down from aloft, had taken his post again near
his beloved commander. "I am a good swimmer," he said to himself, "and
I will do my best to save the captain. If I fail I will perish with
him." Such were the thoughts which passed through his mind, as the most
critical moment of all had arrived. Nearer and nearer the corvette drew
towards the rocks. Now they appeared broad on the lee-bow--now they
were right abeam--and at length many a bold seaman drew his breath more
freely as they were seen over the quarter. The danger was passed. The
beautiful little ship flew on, breasting bravely the foaming billows.
At length she had clear room once more to make a tack. She came about
before it might have been expected, crippled as she was, and now with
her courses hauled up she stood out to sea.
"Pipe below," cried the captain, leaving the weather side of the poop,
where he had stood since the ship had first got under weigh. "Keep her
south-west, Mr Matson," he observed, as he retired to his cabin; "and
call me on deck should any change take place in the weather."
It would be difficult to describe the feelings of those on shore who had
watched for so long the manoeuvres of the corvette as she worked her way
out of the bay. Often Lady Nora lifted up her hands as if praying to
Heaven for the safety of those on board. Each time, too the ship
approached the dangerous reef, with the character of which she was so
well acquainted, her cheek turned paler than usual, and her bated breath
showed the agitation of her feelings.
Yet, did she love the young commander of the corvette? She would
scarcely have acknowledged thus much to herself. He had not declared
his affection, and yet she felt almost sure that he was truly attached
to her.
"I must remember that he was poor Barry's friend," she said to herself;
"yet Barry did not pretend to know to what family he belonged; indeed,
he would never tell us how he first became acquainted with him. That
was very strange, for as often as I put the question he evaded it, and
replied, `I value him for himself, for the noble qualities he possesses,
and not for what he may possibly have been.' On board ship we think
only of our rank in the service, and what sort of fellow a man shows
himself to be by his conduct. So Nora do not say anything more about
the matter."
At length, when the corvette, as far as she was able to judge in the
thick gathering gloom of night, seemed to be clear of the land, Nora
could not refrain from giving vent to her pent-up feelings in tears,
while a prayer of thankfulness went up from her heart to Heaven.
Some time passed before she entirely recovered from the effects of the
fearful danger in which she had been placed. She looked forward, day
after day, for the return of the corvette, but in vain. She eagerly
examined the newspapers, but none of them mentioned the _Ariadne_. She
might still be on the coast of Ireland, or have been ordered elsewhere.
From what Captain Denham had said before he took his departure, she was
fully persuaded he would soon return; and it must be confessed, she
longed to ask him many questions. There were various doubts passing
through her mind which she was anxious to have solved. She scarcely,
however, would trust herself to speak of them even to Sophy. She was
soon to have her mind occupied with other cares.
Her father, who had never recovered the loss of his son, or his visit to
the West Indies, was now very evidently declining in health. He could
no longer follow the hounds, or ride out as before. He took little or
no interest in public affairs. Even his neighbours he declined seeing
when they called, though he seemed always glad to have a visit from Mr
Jamieson or his blind niece. He held frequent conversations with the
steward about his affairs, which seemed greatly to trouble him. At
length it was determined to send to Dublin to request the presence of
his family lawyer, Mr Finlayson, who, though now an old man, was
sufficiently hale to undertake the journey. He had, it appeared, as had
his father before him, managed for many years the Kilfinnan property.
Nora willingly agreed to write to request his attendance, for she felt,
that as he was a faithful friend of her father's, he would certainly be
a comfort to him, and might also be able to suggest a means of placing
the property in a more satisfactory state than it was in at present.
She thought nothing of herself; it scarcely occurred to her that she was
to become the heiress of it all. She knew that the title would become
extinct at her father's death, but that caused her no regret. She
supposed that her income would enable her and her cousin Sophy to live
as they had been accustomed. More she did not require.
Within a week Mr Patrick Finlayson arrived in a chaise from Dublin. In
those days the journey was not performed as rapidly as at present, and
the dangers to be encountered were not a few. He was a small, neatly
made, active little man, with a clear complexion, which even his
advanced age had scarcely succeeded in depriving of the hue of youth,
though his hair was white as snow. His eyes were bright and
intelligent, and his whole manner and appearance showed that he was
still capable of a considerable amount of active exertion. His brown
suit, knee breeches, and silk stockings, were set off by brightly
polished steel buttons and diamond buckles. Having paid his respects to
the ladies of the family, and addressed Lady Nora in his usual easy,
familiar style, which showed that he had from her earliest youth,
claimed the honour of being one of her admirers and friends, he made
more especial inquiries about the Earl.
"You will see a great change in my father," said Nora, "but your coming
will, I feel sure, do him good. You know more about our affairs than we
do. I only hope things are not worse than he supposes, and if they are,
I must ask you to conceal the truth from him; I am afraid it would do
him no good to make him aware of it, and would only deeply grieve him.
I care not so much if I only am the sufferer."
"You need not be alarmed, my dear Lady Nora," answered the old man,
taking her hand. "Things are not worse than the Earl supposes; on the
contrary, I have of late seen the importance of not allowing him to
believe that they were improving as much as they have been. You know,
probably, your good father's disposition, and are aware, that had he
discovered this, he would very quickly have launched out again into his
old habits of extravagance, which, however, from the sad account you
give of him, he is not now likely to do, and therefore I am prepared to
tell him the whole truth. Your affairs, Lady Nora, require nursing, I
will confess to that, and careful management, but a few years of economy
will, I hope, place them on a satisfactory footing."
"This is indeed pleasant news you bring us, Mr Finlayson, I own when I
heard that you had consented to come, that I feared things were rather
worse than better, but I am indeed very grateful to you for coming; you
have always been one of our truest friends, and I am sure at the present
moment you will be a great comfort to my poor father. I will let the
Earl know of your arrival, and I am sure he will be glad to see you at
once. During the last few days he has grown very much weaker, and his
medical attendant will not tell me what he thinks of his case. He
himself speaks very willingly to our friend and neighbour, Mr Jamieson,
who, when I ask him what he thinks, always looks very grave, and
replies, `that the lives of all of us are in God's hands, and that we
should be prepared to lose those we love at any moment.' This makes me,
as you may suppose, extremely anxious."
While Lady Nora was speaking the old gentleman became very serious.
"I should like to see the Earl as soon as possible," he observed; "I
have several matters of importance to consult him about, which I should
not like to put off until he becomes still weaker than you tell me he is
at present. You will excuse me, Lady Nora, when I say I should like to
be alone with him for some time."
"O yes, sir," said Lady Nora; "I know that whatever you have to say to
my father you have the right to say to him; and I feel such perfect
confidence in you that I have no desire to pry into any secrets you may
have with him."
Nora having left the lawyer, soon returned with the information, that
the Earl was ready to receive him.
Mr Finlayson found the Earl sitting in an armchair, propped up with
pillows, gazing out on the ocean, on whose blue and slightly ruffled
waves the sunbeams were playing brilliantly. The Earl smiled as his old
friend entered, and held out his hand warmly to him.
"Sit down, Finlayson; you have come at a sad moment. I feel a strange
weakness creeping over me, and I am glad that you have not longer put
off your visit. Yes, I believe the moment is approaching for which we
all should be prepared, when I must leave this world. I wish I could
look back to all I have done during my life with satisfaction; but I
cannot say that I can do that. I have been hospitable and generous, I
own, according to the notion of people; but alas! Finlayson, for the
peasantry under my charge, for the multitudes of my poorer neighbours,
how little have I done? I might have set them a better example; I might
have obtained some education for them; and, perhaps, by going among
them, restrained them from committing the excesses into which, from time
to time, they have plunged."
"Very true," answered the lawyer; "I believe there are very few people
who have not to say something like that, when they are about to leave
the world; but we must not think of what we have done or left undone
ourselves. You believe in the simple Gospel; I am sure you do, or you
would have listened to Mr Jamieson's preaching, as I have often seen
you doing--in vain. We will speak of that by-and-by. I rather hope
that you think worse of your case than you should do. I do not hear
that the doctor is of the same opinion as you are, and so, my dear lord,
there are certain points with regard to your property which I, as your
legal adviser, would wish, in the first place, to discuss."
Mr Finlayson then entered into particulars, which it is not here
necessary to introduce.
The Earl seemed much relieved on hearing that his property was less
encumbered than he had supposed.
"But there is another point, my lord, on which I shall wish particularly
to consult you."
"Well, the sooner we speak on anything of importance the better,
Finlayson. We know not what another day may bring forth," observed the
Earl.
He already spoke with some difficulty.
"Well, my lord, at all events I should like to know your wishes on the
subject," said the lawyer. "Your lordship knows that your father had an
elder brother."
"Yes," said the Earl, in a somewhat surprised tone.
"He was considerably older than your father," continued the lawyer. "He
was a somewhat wild and extravagant man. Your lordship may possibly
remember that he engaged in one of the unhappy outbreaks of those days."
"Yes, yes," said the Earl hastily. "I heard that he became a rebel
against his king and country."
"Well, my lord, you know many honourable men joined with him on that
occasion."
"I fancy that he was found guilty of high-treason, was he not?" said the
Earl.
"Yes," answered the lawyer. "An act of attainder was passed against
him, by which he lost both title and property. Had it not been for the
interest of your father, it would have been lost to the family
altogether; but, as he had always proved loyal, he was allowed to
inherit the property in the place of his brother, for your grandfather,
if you remember, was alive at the time."
"Yes; but of what consequence is that at the present day?" asked the
Earl.
"I am coming to that, my lord," said Mr Finlayson. "Your uncle, it
appeared, married and had a son and your father, who really loved his
brother, being at that time a bachelor, petitioned the Government, that
in case of his death without an heir, his elder brother's guiltless
child might succeed to the property, and regain the title of which his
father had been deprived."
"Ah!" said the Earl, "I was not aware of that; but had this relative of
mine (this cousin I suppose I should call him) a son?"
"That for a long time was a matter of doubt," said the lawyer. "It
appeared, however, that he, when a young man, inherited many of his
father's qualities, and was in all respects fully as wild and
unmanageable as he had been, and he very soon, in consequence, brought
himself within power of the law."
"I hope he never committed any act unworthy of a gentleman or of his
name and family," said the Earl, with more animation than he had
hitherto shown. "At least I trust one of the last scions of our race
brought no disgrace on it."
"No, my lord," said the lawyer, smiling; "he was only guilty of that
gentlemanly act,--treason, having united himself with some of those
unhappy people, who hoped to overthrow the authority of the Government.
He became a United Irishman, and took part in the rebellion of that
time. He was at length committed to prison, and to my great dismay I
found that he had been condemned to death."
"Did he retain his own name, or had he assumed another?" asked the Earl.
"He had some time before dropped his family name, and wisely too,
considering the position in which he was placed," answered the lawyer.
"He had contrived, however, to make friends both within and outside the
walls of the prison, and by their means he managed to escape. A price
was of course set upon his head, and it was generally supposed that he
had left the country. I thought so likewise for some time; but his
father, who was then alive, had placed some sums of money in my hands,
and empowered me to devote them to his assistance. I suppose he
discovered this, for after a short time I received a letter from him, by
which he led me to understand that he was still in the country, but in a
position where it was not at all likely he would be discovered. He told
me, moreover, that he had no intention of leaving Ireland; that he had
lately married a young country girl, and was very happy in his present
position. He praised his wife as a most beautiful creature, and said
that in her society he hoped in future to remain quiet, and refrain from
any of the acts which had hitherto brought him into trouble. He had
taken so many precautions that, notwithstanding all my exertions, I
could not find out where he was. Still he enabled me to remit the money
he required. I should have told you that when your father had made the
arrangement which I have been describing, he bound over his nephew and
his son not to make any claim to the title, as long as an heir of his
own line existed. But should he have no male heir, then the eldest of
his descendants was allowed to put in a claim for the title. This
document, and other legal proofs of his identity, your cousin had
obtained possession of. He told me, I remember, in his letter, that he
considered himself strictly bound to adhere to the agreement, and that
as for himself, he had no wish ever to claim the title which had
belonged to his ancestors; that he had sufficient to satisfy his wants;
that he was tired of ambition; and that he was perfectly content to let
his country go on in its present condition, without interfering in
politics. I replied that his resolution was a wise one, and undertook
whenever he desired to have the money forwarded to him, to send it
immediately. I of course did my best to try and discover where he was
and whom he had married. Once or twice I was very near succeeding. I
traced him to two or three places, but at length I entirely lost all
clue to him. I suspect he was aware I was endeavouring to discover him,
and thus, as he had already had much practice in playing the game of
hide-and-seek, he was able completely to evade me."
"That is a strange story you have told me," said the Earl; "I had
forgotten many of the circumstances to which you allude. Alas! as long
as my own boy lived it was a matter of no consequence. I felt very sure
that my own patent was secure, and that he would inherit my title and
estates; but now it seems that through this curious arrangement of my
father, matters have altered; but surely should an heir appear, he could
not deprive my daughter of Kilfinnan Castle, and the estates which
belong to it."
"In the unlikely event of a claimant establishing his right to the
earldom, he would also inherit the Kilfinnan estates," answered the
lawyer; "but you will remember there are the estates in Derry, which
were formerly separated from the Kilfinnan property, and according to
the arrangements made by the late Earl, they become the heritage of the
females should there be no son to succeed. Thus Lady Nora will at all
events retain the Derry estates, even though it may turn out that your
long-missing cousin has left a son to inherit the title and Kilfinnan
property."
The Earl sighed deeply.
"It matters very little to myself. My dear Nora has no ambition, and as
her tastes are simple, she will be perfectly content with the Derry
estates, where she will, I feel sure, devote herself to the care of the
surrounding peasantry, and will avoid those extravagances which would
injure her property, as alas! I have done."
The lawyer sat for some time longer with his friend, but the Earl at
length, observing that he felt very faint, desired that his doctor, who
was in the house, might be sent for. The man of medicine soon appeared,
and feeling the Earl's pulse instantly administered restoratives. In a
short time the Earl rallied, and desired that Lady Nora and his niece
might be sent for. They came and sat with him for nearly an hour, when
he begged that they would retire to their rooms, assuring them that he
felt much better, and that he hoped the following day he should have
more conversation with Mr Finlayson on the matters of business which he
wished to discuss with him.