WHAT THE PAPERS SAID OF IT
The wounded man had just fallen into a first sleep after his disaster, when
the press of the capital was already proclaiming throughout the land the
attack and search for arms at Kilgobbin Castle. In the National papers a
very few lines were devoted to the event; indeed, their tone was one of
party sneer at the importance given by their contemporaries to a very
ordinary incident. ‘Is there,’ asked the _Convicted Felon_, ‘anything very
strange or new in the fact that Irishmen have determined to be armed? Is
English legislation in this country so marked by justice, clemency, and
generosity that the people of Ireland prefer to submit their lives and
fortunes to its sway, to trusting what brave men alone trust in--their
fearlessness and their daring? What is there, then, so remarkable in the
repairing to Mr. Kearney’s house for a loan of those weapons of which his
family for several generations have forgotten the use?’ In the Government
journals the story of the attack was headed, ‘Attack on Kilgobbin Castle.
Heroic resistance by a young lady’; in which Kate Kearney’s conduct was
described in colours of extravagant eulogy. She was alternately Joan of Arc
and the Maid of Saragossa, and it was gravely discussed whether any and
what honours of the Crown were at Her Majesty’s disposal to reward such
brilliant heroism. In another print of the same stamp the narrative began:
‘The disastrous condition of our country is never displayed in darker
colours than when the totally unprovoked character of some outrage has
to be recorded by the press. It is our melancholy task to present such a
case as this to our readers to-day. If it was our wish to exhibit to a
stranger the picture of an Irish estate in which all the blessings of good
management, intelligence, kindliness, and Christian charity were displayed;
to show him a property where the wellbeing of landlord and tenant were
inextricably united, where the condition of the people, their dress, their
homes, their food, and their daily comforts, could stand comparison with
the most favoured English county, we should point to the Kearney estate
of Kilgobbin; and yet it is here, in the very house where his ancestors
have resided for generations, that a most savage and dastardly attack is
made; and if we feel a sense of shame in recording the outrage, we are
recompensed by the proud elation with which we can recount the repulse--the
noble and gallant achievement of an Irish girl. History has the record of
more momentous feats, but we doubt that there is one in the annals of any
land in which a higher heroism was displayed than in this splendid defence
by Miss Kearney.’ Then followed the story; not one of the papers having any
knowledge of Walpole’s presence on the occasion, or the slightest suspicion
that she was aided in any way.
Joe Atlee was busily engaged in conning over and comparing these somewhat
contradictory reports, as he sat at his breakfast, his chum Kearney being
still in bed and asleep after a late night at a ball. At last there came a
telegraphic despatch for Kearney; armed with which, Joe entered the bedroom
and woke him.
‘Here’s something for you, Dick,’ cried he. ‘Are you too sleepy to read
it?’
‘Tear it open and see what it is, like a good fellow,’ said the other
indolently.
‘It’s from your sister--at least, it is signed Kate. It says: “There is no
cause for alarm. All is going on well, and papa will be back this evening.
I write by this post.”’
‘What does all that mean?’ cried Dick, in surprise.
‘The whole story is in the papers. The boys have taken the opportunity of
your father’s absence from home to make a demand for arms at your house,
and your sister, it seems, showed fight and beat them off. They talk of two
fellows being seen badly wounded, but, of course, that part of the story
cannot be relied on. That they got enough to make them beat a retreat is,
however, certain; and as they were what is called a strong party, the feat
of resisting them is no small glory for a young lady.’
‘It was just what Kate was certain to do. There’s no man with a braver
heart.’
I wonder how the beautiful Greek behaved? I should like greatly to hear
what part she took in the defence of the citadel. Was she fainting or in
hysterics, or so overcome by terror as to be unconscious?’
‘I’ll make you any wager you like, Kate did the whole thing herself. There
was a Whiteboy attack to force the stairs when she was a child, and I
suppose we rehearsed that combat fully fifty--ay, five hundred times. Kate
always took the defence, and though we were sometimes four to one, she kept
us back.’
‘By Jove! I think I should be afraid of such a young lady.’
‘So you would. She has more pluck in her heart than half that blessed
province you come from. That’s the blood of the old stock you are often
pleased to sneer at, and of which the present will be a lesson to teach you
better.’
‘May not the lovely Greek be descended from some ancient stock too? Who is
to say what blood of Pericles she had not in her veins? I tell you I’ll not
give up the notion that she was a sharer in this glory.’
‘If you’ve got the papers with the account, let me see them, Joe. I’ve half
a mind to run down by the night-mail--that is, if I can. Have you got any
tin, Atlee?’
‘There were some shillings in one of my pockets last night. How much do you
want?’
‘Eighteen-and-six first class, and a few shillings for a cab.’
‘I can manage that; but I’ll go and fetch you the papers, there’s time
enough to talk of the journey.’
The newsman had just deposited the _Croppy_ on the table as Joe returned
to the breakfast-table, and the story of Kilgobbin headed the first column
in large capitals. ‘While our contemporaries,’ it began, ‘are recounting
with more than their wonted eloquence the injuries inflicted on three poor
labouring men, who, in their ignorance of the locality, had the temerity to
ask for alms at Kilgobbin Castle yesterday evening, and were ignominiously
driven away from the door by a young lady, whose benevolence was
administered through a blunderbuss, we, who form no portion of the polite
press, and have no pretension to mix in what are euphuistically called the
“best circles” of this capital, would like to ask, for the information of
those humble classes among which our readers are found, is it the custom
for young ladies to await the absence of their fathers to entertain
young gentlemen tourists? and is a reputation for even heroic courage
not somewhat dearly purchased at the price of the companionship of the
admittedly most profligate man of a vicious and corrupt society? The
heroine who defended Kilgobbin can reply to our query.’
Joe Atlee read this paragraph three times over before he carried in the
paper to Kearney.
‘Here’s an insolent paragraph, Dick,’ he cried, as he threw the paper to
him on the bed. ‘Of course it’s a thing cannot be noticed in any way, but
it’s not the less rascally for that.’
‘You know the fellow who edits this paper, Joe?’ said Kearney, trembling
with passion.
‘No; my friend is doing his bit of oakum at Kilmainham. They gave him
thirteen months, and a fine that he’ll never be able to pay; but what would
you do if the fellow who wrote it were in the next room at this moment?’
‘Thrash him within an inch of his life.’
‘And, with the inch of life left him, he’d get strong again and write at
you and all belonging to you every day of his existence. Don’t you see
that all this license is one of the prices of liberty? There’s no guarding
against excesses when you establish a rivalry. The doctors could tell you
how many diseased lungs and aneurisms are made by training for a rowing
match.’
‘I’ll go down by the mail to-night and see what has given the origin to
this scandalous falsehood.’
‘There’s no harm in doing that, especially if you take me with you.’
‘Why should I take you, or for what?’
‘As guide, counsellor, and friend.’
‘Bright thought, when all the money we can muster between us is only enough
for one fare.’
‘Doubtless, first class; but we could go third class, two of us for the
same money. Do you imagine that Damon and Pythias would have been separated
if it came even to travelling in a cow compartment?’
‘I wish you could see that there are circumstances in life where the comic
man is out of place.’
‘I trust I shall never discover them; at least, so long as Fate treats me
with “heavy tragedy.”’
‘I’m not exactly sure, either, whether they ‘d like to receive you just now
at Kilgobbin.’
‘Inhospitable thought! My heart assures me of a most cordial welcome.’
‘And I should only stay a day or two at farthest.’
‘Which would suit me to perfection. I must be back here by Tuesday if I had
to walk the distance.’
‘Not at all improbable, so far as I know of your resources.’
‘What a churlish dog it is! Now had you, Master Dick, proposed to me that
we should go down and pass a week at a certain small thatched cottage
on the banks of the Ban, where a Presbyterian minister with eight olive
branches vegetates, discussing tough mutton and tougher theology on
Sundays, and getting through the rest of the week with the parables and
potatoes, I’d have said, Done!’
‘It was the inopportune time I was thinking of. Who knows what confusion
this event may not have thrown them into? If you like to risk the
discomfort, I make no objection.’
‘To so heartily expressed an invitation there can be but one answer, I
yield.’
‘Now look here, Joe, I’d better be frank with you: don’t try it on at
Kilgobbin as you do with me.’
‘You are afraid of my insinuating manners, are you?’
‘I am afraid of your confounded impudence, and of that notion you cannot
get rid of, that your cool familiarity is a fashionable tone.’
‘How men mistake themselves. I pledge you my word, if I was asked what was
the great blemish in my manner, I’d have said it was bashfulness.’
‘Well, then, it is not!’
‘Are you sure, Dick, are you quite sure?’
‘I am quite sure, and unfortunately for you, you’ll find that the majority
agree with me.’
‘“A wise man should guard himself against the defects that he might have,
without knowing it.” That is a Persian proverb, which you will find in
_Hafiz_. I believe you never read _Hafiz_!’
‘No, nor you either.’
‘That’s true; but I can make my own _Hafiz_, and just as good as the real
article. By the way, are you aware that the water-carriers at Tehran sing
_Lalla Rookh_, and believe it a national poem?’
‘I don’t know, and I don’t care.’
‘I’ll bring down an _Anacreon_ with me, and see if the Greek cousin can
spell her way through an ode.’
‘And I distinctly declare you shall do no such thing.’
‘Oh dear, oh dear, what an unamiable trait is envy! By the way, was that
your frock-coat I wore yesterday at the races?’
‘I think you know it was; at least you remembered it when you tore the
sleeve.’
‘True, most true; that torn sleeve was the reason the rascal would only let
me have fifteen shillings on it.’
‘And you mean to say you pawned my coat?’
‘I left it in the temporary care of a relative, Dick; but it is a
redeemable mortgage, and don’t fret about it.’
‘Ever the same!’
‘No, Dick, that means worse and worse! Now, I am in the process of
reformation. The natural selection, however, where honesty is in the
series, is a slow proceeding, and the organic changes are very complicated.
As I know, however, you attach value to the effect you produce in that
coat, I’ll go and recover it. I shall not need Terence or Juvenal till we
come back, and I’ll leave them in the avuncular hands till then.’
‘I wonder you’re not ashamed of these miserable straits.’
‘I am very much ashamed of the world that imposes them on me. I’m
thoroughly ashamed of that public in lacquered leather, that sees
me walking in broken boots. I’m heartily ashamed of that well-fed,
well-dressed, sleek society, that never so much as asked whether the
intellectual-looking man in the shabby hat, who looked so lovingly at the
spiced beef in the window, had dined yet, or was he fasting for a wager?’
‘There, don’t carry away that newspaper; I want to read over that pleasant
paragraph again!’