"What!" I exclaimed, "is there a person such as you describe wanting to
marry my mother?"
"Well, that's the plain matter of fact," answered Mrs Fowler; "and what
is more he swears he will have her. He has come all the way over from
Ireland, and is not going back nonplussed."
I was greatly concerned at hearing this, for although, had my mother
wished to marry again, I should have been very thankful if she could
have found a suitable protector, yet I was sure that such a person as
Mrs Fowler described would make her miserable. There was another
person I was longing to ask about, but I own, from a somewhat different
feeling, I hesitated. "And Miss Emily?" I asked at length, trying to
get out of the light of the candle as I spoke. "How is she?"
"Oh! She is the light of the house--the most beautifullest and
brightest little creature you ever did see," answered Mrs Fowler, with
enthusiasm. "Whether she's the captain's daughter, or anybody else's
daughter, it does not matter to me, but I know she is a blessing to all
around her."
"Thank you, Mrs Fowler, thank you," I answered, scarcely knowing what I
said. "I am anxious to see my mother. Take care of my chest; I will
take my bag with me." Saying this, I darted out of the house and
hurried down the lane. I well knew how delighted my mother would be to
see me, and I had an undefined feeling that the sooner I could be with
her the better. Passing through the wicket I found the house-door
partly open, and heard a voice proceeding from the back parlour. It was
a somewhat loud one too:
"Oh! Mistress Burthen! Mistress Burthen! Ye will be after breaking my
heart, ye will; and me waiting for you these long years, and now at last
come all the way over from old Ireland to find ye as hard and obdurate
as the blacksmith's anvil in the corner of Saint Patrick's street, in
Ballybruree," were the first words that caught my ear. "Shure you will
be afther relenting and not laving me a disconsolate widower, to go back
to Ballyswiggan all alone by myself."
"Indeed, Mr Gillooly, I feel that your constancy--your pertinacity
shall I call it?" and there was a slight touch of sarcasm in the
voice,--it was my mother who spoke, "deserves to be rewarded; but at the
same time I confess that I cannot bring myself to undertake to
recompense you as you desire. All I can do is to give you my best
advice, and that is to try and find some other lady who is more disposed
to receive your addresses than I am."
I did not wish to be an eaves-dropper, and at the same time I scarcely
liked suddenly to rush unnoticed into the room. Old Mrs Schank would,
I concluded, be in the front parlour, and perhaps Emily might be with
her, and I would ask her to break my arrival to my mother. Again Mr
Gillooly pleaded his cause. I began to fancy, from the tone of my
mother's voice and the answers she made, that she was somewhat
relenting. I knew enough of the world to be aware that even sensible
people sometimes marry against their convictions, and I thought it was
now high time for me to interfere. Just then I heard my mother exclaim:
"Who's that? I saw someone at the window. It is impossible; yet--Oh!
Mr Gillooly, you are very kind, you are very generous, but I cannot, I
cannot marry you. After what I have just now seen, it is impossible!"
"It's on my knees, then, I implore you, widow Burthen!" exclaimed Mr
Gillooly. "Oh! Say, would you render me a desperate man and send me
forth to join the Ribbonmen, or Green Boys, or other rebels against King
George? It's afther killing me ye'll be by your cruelty; and it's more
than Jim Gillooly can stand, or has stood in his life, and so by the
powers, Mistress Gillooly, you shall be, in spite of your prothestations
and assartions, and--"
I now thought it high time to interfere, and rushing into the room,
presented myself to the astonished gaze of Mr Gillooly, who was on the
point of rising from his knees, with anger depicted on his countenance,
and a gesture sufficient to alarm even a less timid person than my
mother. She was staring with eyes open and lips apart towards the
window which looked into the garden. The light from the lamp on the
table fell on the face and figure of a man whom I at once recognised as
my fellow-traveller from Portsmouth.
"Who are you?" exclaimed Mr Gillooly, as he saw me advancing. "That
lady's son," I answered.
"Then out upon you for an impostor. That lady can have no big spalpeen
of a son like you!" exclaimed Mr Gillooly, rushing towards me with
uplifted fist. I could easily have escaped him by flight, but that I
disdained to do, though his blow was likely to be one capable of felling
me to the ground. My mother uttered a scream. At that instant the
window was flung open, and in sprang the stranger. The scream arrested
my assailant. He turned his head and discovered the stranger, a man of
powerful frame, rushing towards him.
"Murther! murther! I'm betrayed!" shouted Mr Gillooly. "Oh! Widow,
it's all your doing, and you have led me into an ambush! Murther!
Murther!" and without stopping to pick up his hat or whip he rushed from
the door and out through the garden and along the lane, so I concluded,
as I heard his heavy footsteps growing less and less distinct as he
gained a distance from the cottage.