A SICK-ROOM
Cecil Walpole occupied the state-room and the state-bed at Kilgobbin
Castle; but the pain of a very serious wound had left him very little
faculty to know what honour was rendered him, or of what watchful
solicitude he was the object. The fever brought on by his wound had
obliterated in his mind all memory of where he was; and it was only
now--that is, on the same morning that the young men had arrived at the
castle--that he was able to converse without much difficulty, and enjoy
the companionship of Lockwood, who had come over to see him and scarcely
quitted his bedside since the disaster.
It seems going on all right,’ said Lockwood, as he lifted the iced cloths
to look at the smashed limb, which lay swollen and livid on a pillow
outside the clothes.
‘It’s not pretty to look at, Harry; but the doctor says “we shall save
it”--his phrase for not cutting it off.’
‘They’ve taken up two fellows on suspicion, and I believe they were of the
party here that night.’
‘I don’t much care about that. It was a fair fight, and I suspect I did
not get the worst of it. What really does grieve me is to think how
ingloriously one gets a wound that in real war would have been a title of
honour.’
‘If I had to give a V.C. for this affair, it would be to that fine girl I’d
give it, and not to you, Cecil.’
‘So should I. There is no question whatever as to our respective shares in
the achievement.’
‘And she is so modest and unaffected about it all, and when she was showing
me the position and the alcove, she never ceased to lay stress on the
safety she enjoyed during the conflict.’
‘Then she said nothing about standing in front of me after I was wounded?’
‘Not a word. She said a great deal about your coolness and indifference to
danger, but nothing about her own.’
‘Well, I suppose it’s almost a shame to own it--not that I could have done
anything to prevent it--but she did step down one step of the stair and
actually cover me from fire.’
‘She’s the finest girl in Europe,’ said Lockwood warmly.
‘And if it was not the contrast with her cousin, I’d almost say one of the
handsomest,’ said Cecil.
‘The Greek is splendid, I admit that, though she’ll not speak--she’ll
scarcely notice me.’
‘How is that?’
‘I can’t imagine, except it might have been, an awkward speech I made when
we were talking over the row. I said, “Where were you? what were you doing
all this time? “’
‘And what answer did she make you?’
‘None; not a word. She drew herself proudly up, and opened her eyes so
large and full upon me, that I felt I must have appeared some sort of
monster to be so stared at.’
‘I’ve seen her do that.’
‘It was very grand and very beautiful; but I’ll be shot if I’d like to
stand under it again. From that time to this she has never deigned me more
than a mere salutation.’
‘And are you good friends with the other girl?’
‘The best in the world. I don’t see much of her, for she’s always abroad,
over the farm, or among the tenants: but when we meet we are very cordial
and friendly.’
‘And the father, what is he like?’
‘My lord is a glorious old fellow, full of hospitable plans and pleasant
projects; but terribly distressed to think that this unlucky incident
should prejudice you against Ireland. Indeed, he gave me to understand that
there must have been some mistake or misconception in the matter, for the
castle had never been attacked before; and he insists on saying that if
you will stop here--I think he said ten years--you’ll not see another such
occurrence.’
‘It’s rather a hard way to test the problem though.’
‘What’s more, he included me in the experiment.’
‘And this title? Does he assume it, or expect it to be recognised?’
‘I can scarcely tell you. The Greek girl “my lords” him occasionally; his
daughter, never. The servants always do so; and I take it that people use
their own discretion about it.’
‘Or do it in a sort of indolent courtesy, as they call Marsala, sherry, but
take care at the same time to pass the decanter. I believe you telegraphed
to his Excellency?’
‘Yes; and he means to come over next week.’
‘Any news of Lady Maude?’
‘Only that she comes with him, and I’m sorry for it.’
‘So am I--deuced sorry! In a gossiping town like Dublin there will be
surely some story afloat about these handsome girls here. She saw the
Greek, too, at the Duke of Rigati’s ball at Rome, and she never forgets a
name or a face. A pleasant trait in a wife.’
‘Of course the best plan will be to get removed, and be safely installed in
our old quarters at the Castle before they arrive.’
‘We must hear what the doctor says.’
‘He’ll say no, naturally, for he’ll not like to lose his patient. He will
have to convey you to town, and we’ll try and make him believe it will be
the making of him. Don’t you agree with me, Cecil, it’s the thing to do?’
‘I have not thought it over yet. I will to-day. By the way, I know it’s the
thing to do,’ repeated he, with an air of determination. ‘There will be all
manner of reports, scandals, and falsehoods to no end about this business
here; and when Lady Maude learns, as she is sure to learn, that the “Greek
girl” is in the story, I cannot measure the mischief that may come of it.’
‘Break off the match, eh?’
‘That is certainly “on the cards.”’
‘I suspect even that would not break your heart.’
‘I don’t say it would, but it would prove very inconvenient in many ways.
Danesbury has great claims on his party. He came here as Viceroy dead
against his will, and, depend upon it, he made his terms. Then if these
people go out, and the Tories want to outbid them, Danesbury could
take--ay, and would take--office under them.’
‘I cannot follow all that. All I know is, I like the old boy himself,
though he is a bit pompous now and then, and fancies he’s Emperor of
Russia.’
‘I wish his niece didn’t imagine she was an imperial princess.’
‘That she does! I think she is the haughtiest girl I ever met. To be sure
she was a great beauty.’
‘_Was_, Harry! What do you mean by “was”? Lady Maude is not
eight-and-twenty.’
‘Ain’t she, though? Will you have a ten-pound note on it that she’s not
over thirty-one; and I can tell you who could decide the wager?’
‘A delicate thought!--a fellow betting on the age of the girl he’s going to
marry!’
[Illustration: He entered and Nina arose as he came forward.]
‘Ten o’clock!--nearly half-past ten!’ said Lockwood, rising from his chair.
‘I must go and have some breakfast. I meant to have been down in time
to-day, and breakfasted with the old fellow and his daughter; for coming
late brings me to a _tête-à-tête_ with the Greek damsel, and it isn’t
jolly, I assure you.’
‘Don’t you speak?’
‘Never a word?’ She’s generally reading a newspaper when I go in. She lays
it down; but after remarking that she fears I’ll find the coffee cold, she
goes on with her breakfast, kisses her Maltese terrier, asks him a few
questions about his health, and whether he would like to be in a warmer
climate, and then sails away.’
‘And how she walks!’
‘Is she bored here?’
‘She says not.’
‘She can scarcely like these people; they ‘re not the sort of thing she has
ever been used to.’
‘She tells me she likes them: they certainly like her.’
‘Well,’ said Lockwood, with a sigh, ‘she’s the most beautiful woman,
certainly, I’ve ever seen; and, at this moment, I’d rather eat a crust with
a glass of beer under a hedge than I’d go down and sit at breakfast with
her.’
‘I’ll be shot if I’ll not tell her that speech the first day I’m down
again.’
‘So you may, for by that time I shall have seen her for the last time.’
And with this he strolled out of the room and down the stairs towards the
breakfast-parlour.
As he stood at the door he heard the sound of voices laughing and talking
pleasantly. He entered, and Nina arose as he came forward, and said, ‘Let
me present my cousin--Mr. Richard Kearney, Major Lockwood; his friend, Mr.
Atlee.’
The two young men stood up--Kearny stiff and haughty, and Atlee with a
sort of easy assurance that seemed to suit his good-looking but certainly
snobbish style. As for Lockwood, he was too much a gentleman to have more
than one manner, and he received these two men as he would have received
any other two of any rank anywhere.
‘These gentlemen have been showing me some strange versions of our little
incident here in the Dublin papers,’ said Nina to Lockwood. ‘I scarcely
thought we should become so famous.’
‘I suppose they don’t stickle much for truth,’ said Lockwood, as he broke
his egg in leisurely fashion.
‘They were scarcely able to provide a special correspondent for the event,’
said Atlee; ‘but I take it they give the main facts pretty accurately and
fairly.’
‘Indeed!’ said Lockwood, more struck by the manner than by the words of the
speaker. ‘They mention, then, that my friend received a bad fracture of the
forearm.’
‘No, I don’t think they do; at least so far as I have seen. They speak of
a night attack on Kilgobbin Castle, made by an armed party of six or seven
men with faces blackened, and their complete repulse through the heroic
conduct of a young lady.’
‘The main facts, then, include no mention of poor Walpole and his
misfortune?’
‘I don’t think that we mere Irish attach any great importance to a broken
arm, whether it came of a cricket-ball or gun; but we do interest ourselves
deeply when an Irish girl displays feats of heroism and courage that men
find it hard to rival.’
‘It was very fine,’ said Lockwood gravely.
‘Fine! I should think it was fine!’ burst out Atlee. ‘It was so fine that,
had the deed been done on the other side of this narrow sea, the nation
would not have been satisfied till your Poet Laureate had commemorated it
in verse.’
‘Have they discovered any traces of the fellows?’ said Lockwood, who
declined to follow the discussion into this channel.
‘My father has gone over to Moate to-day,’ said Kearney, now speaking for
the first time, ‘to hear the examination of two fellows who have been taken
up on suspicion.’
‘You have plenty of this sort of thing in your country,’ said Atlee to
Nina.
‘Where do you mean when you say my country?’
‘I mean Greece.’
‘But I have not seen Greece since I was a child, so high; I have lived
always in Italy.’
‘Well, Italy has Calabria and the Terra del Lavoro.’
‘And how much do we in Rome know about either?’
‘About as much,’ said Lockwood, ‘as Belgravia does of the Bog of Allen.’
‘You’ll return to your friends in civilised life with almost the fame of an
African traveller, Major Lockwood,’ said Atlee pertly.
‘If Africa can boast such hospitality, I certainly rather envy than
compassionate Doctor Livingstone,’ said he politely.
‘Somebody,’ said Kearney dryly, ‘calls hospitality the breeding of the
savage.’
‘But I deny that we are savage,’ cried Atlee. ‘I contend for it that
all our civilisation is higher, and that class for class we are in a
more advanced culture than the English; that your chawbacon is not as
intelligent a being as our bogtrotter; that your petty shopkeeper is
inferior to ours; that throughout our middle classes there is not only a
higher morality but a higher refinement than with you.’
‘I read in one of the most accredited journals of England the other day
that Ireland had never produced a poet, could not even show a second-rate
humorist,’ said Kearney.
‘Swift and Sterne were third-rate, or perhaps, English,’ said Atlee.
‘These are themes I’ll not attempt to discuss,’ said Lockwood; ‘but I
know one thing, it takes three times as much military force to govern the
smaller island.’
‘That is to say, to govern the country after _your_ fashion; but leave it
to ourselves. Pack your portmanteaus and go away, and then see if we’ll
need this parade of horse, foot, and dragoons; these batteries of guns and
these brigades of peelers.’
‘You’d be the first to beg us to come back again.’
‘Doubtless, as the Greeks are begging the Turks. Eh, mademoiselle; can you
fancy throwing yourself at the feet of a Pasha and asking leave to be his
slave?’
‘The only Greek slave I ever heard of,’ said Lockwood, ‘was in marble and
made by an American.’
‘Come into the drawing-room and I’ll sing you something,’ said Nina,
rising.
‘Which will be far nicer and pleasanter than all this discussion,’ said
Joe.
‘And if you’ll permit me,’ said Lockwood, ‘we’ll leave the drawing-room
door open and let poor Walpole hear the music.’
‘Would it not be better first to see if he’s asleep?’ said she.
‘That’s true. I’ll step up and see.’
Lockwood hurried away, and Joe Atlee, leaning back in his chair, said,
‘Well, we gave the Saxon a canter, I think. As you know, Dick, that fellow
is no end of a swell.’
‘You know nothing about him,’ said the other gruffly.
‘Only so much as newspapers could tell me. He’s Master of the Horse in the
Viceroy’s household, and the other fellow is Private Secretary, and some
connection besides. I say, Dick, it’s all King James’s times back again.
There has not been so much grandeur here for six or eight generations.’
‘There has not been a more absurd speech made than that, within the time.’
‘And he is really somebody?’ said Nina to Atlee.
‘A _gran signore davvero_,’ said he pompously. ‘If you don’t sing your very
best for him, I’ll swear you are a republican.’
‘Come, take my arm, Nina. I may call you Nina, may I not?’ whispered
Kearney.
‘Certainly, if I may call you Joe.’
‘You may, if you like,’ said he roughly, ‘but my name is Dick.’
‘I am Beppo, and very much at your orders,’ said Atlee, stepping forward
and leading her away.