Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon - Volume I Part 20
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Volume I Part 20

"'Well, well, and if it does, what matter?' he said; 'you'll do well enough, never be afraid.'

"'Alas!' said I, 'you don't understand the cause of my depression.' I here entered upon an account of my sorrows, which lasted for above an hour, and only concluded just as a tremendous noise in the street without announced an arrival. For several minutes such was the excitement in the house, such running hither and thither, such confusion, and such hubbub, that we could not make out who had arrived.

"At last a door opened quite near us, and we saw the waiter a.s.sisting a very portly-looking gentleman off with his great-coat, a.s.suring him the while that if he would only walk into the coffee-room for ten minutes, the fire in his apartment should be got ready. The stranger accordingly entered and seated himself at the fireplace, having never noticed that Casey and myself, the only persons there, were in the room.

"'I say, Phil, who is he?' inquired Casey of the waiter.

"'Counsellor Mills, Captain,' said the waiter, and left the room.

"'That's your friend,' said Casey.

"'I see,' said I; 'and I wish with all my heart he was at home with his pretty wife, in Leeson Street.'

"'Is she good-looking?' inquired Tim.

"'Devil a better,' said I; 'and he's as jealous as old Nick.'

"'Hem,' said Tim, 'mind your cue, and I'll give him a start.' Here he suddenly changed his whispering tone for one in a louder key, and resumed: 'I say, Power, it will make some work for you lawyers. But who can she be?

that's the question.' Here he took a much crumpled letter from his pocket, and pretended to read: '"A great sensation was created in the neighborhood of Merrion Square, yesterday, by the sudden disappearance from her house of the handsome Mrs. ------." Confound it!--what's the name? What a hand he writes! Hill, or Miles, or something like that,--"the lady of an eminent barrister, now on circuit. The gay Lothario is, they say, the Hon. George ------."' I was so thunderstruck at the rashness of the stroke, I could say nothing; while the old gentleman started as if he had sat down on a pin.

Casey, meanwhile, went on.

"'h.e.l.l and fury!' said the king's counsel, rushing over, 'what is it you're saying?'

"'You appear warm, old gentleman,' said Casey, putting up the letter and rising from the table.

"'Show me that letter!--show me that infernal letter, sir, this instant!'

"'Show you my letter,' said Casey; 'cool, that, anyhow. You are certainly a good one.'

"'Do you know me, sir? Answer me that,' said the lawyer, bursting with pa.s.sion.

"'Not at present,' said Tim, quietly; 'but I hope to do so in the morning in explanation of your language and conduct.' A tremendous ringing of the bell here summoned the waiter to the room.

"'Who is that--' inquired the lawyer. The epithet he judged it safe to leave unsaid, as he pointed to my friend Casey.

"'Captain Casey, sir, the commanding officer here.'

"'Just so,' said Casey. 'And very much, at your service any hour after five in the morning.'

"'Then you refuse, sir, to explain the paragraph I have just heard you read?'

"'Well done, old gentleman; so you have been listening to a private conversation I held with my friend here. In that case we had better retire to our room.' So saying, he ordered the waiter to send a fresh bottle and gla.s.ses to No. 14, and taking my arm, very politely wished Mr. Mills good-night, and left the coffee-room.

"Before we had reached the top of the stairs the house was once more in commotion. The new arrival had ordered out fresh horses, and was hurrying every one in his impatience to get away. In ten minutes the chaise rolled off from the door; and Casey, putting his head out of the window, wished him a pleasant journey; while turning to me, he said,--

"'There's one of them out of the way for you, if we are even obliged to fight the other.'

"The port was soon despatched, and with it went all the scruples of conscience I had at first felt for the cruel _ruse_ we had just practised.

Scarcely was the other bottle called for when we heard the landlord calling out in a stentorian voice,--

"'Two horses for Goran Bridge to meet Counsellor Kinsh.e.l.la.'

"'That's the other fellow?' said Casey.

"'It is,' said I.

"'Then we must be stirring,' said he. 'Waiter, chaise and pair in five minutes,--d'ye hear? Power, my boy, I don't want you; stay here and study your brief. It's little trouble Counsellor Kinsh.e.l.la will give you in the morning.'

"All he would tell me of his plans was that he didn't mean any serious bodily harm to the counsellor, but that certainly he was not likely to be heard of for twenty-four hours.

"'Meanwhile, Power, go in and win, my boy,' said he; 'such another walk over may never occur.'

"I must not make my story longer. The next morning the great record of Monaghan _v_. M'Shean was called on; and as the senior counsel were not present, the attorney wished a postponement. I, however, was firm; told the court I was quite prepared, and with such an air of a.s.surance that I actually puzzled the attorney. The case was accordingly opened by me in a very brilliant speech, and the witnesses called; but such was my unlucky ignorance of the whole matter that I actually broke down the testimony of our own, and fought like a Trojan, for the credit and character of the perjurers against us! The judge rubbed his eyes; the jury looked amazed; and the whole bar laughed outright. However, on I went, blundering, floundering, and foundering at every step; and at half-past four, amidst the greatest and most uproarious mirth of the whole court, heard the jury deliver a verdict against us, just as old Kinsh.e.l.la rushed into the court covered with mud and spattered with clay. He had been sent for twenty miles to make a will for Mr. Daly, of Daly's Mount, who was supposed to be at the point of death, but who, on his arrival, threatened to shoot him for causing an alarm to his family by such an imputation.

"The rest is soon told. They moved for a new trial, and I moved out of the profession. I cut the bar, for it cut me. I joined the gallant 14th as a volunteer; and here I am without a single regret, I must confess, that I didn't succeed in the great record of Monaghan _v_. M'Shean."

Once more the claret went briskly round, and while we canva.s.sed Power's story, many an anecdote of military life was told, as every instant increased the charm of that career I longed for.

"Another cooper, Major," said Power.

"With all my heart," said the rosy little officer, as he touched the bell behind him; "and now let's have a song."

"Yes, Power," said three or four together; "let us have 'The Irish Dragoon,' if it's only to convert your friend O'Malley there."

"Here goes, then," said d.i.c.k, taking off a b.u.mper as he began the following chant to the air of "Love is the Soul of a gay Irishman":--

THE IRISH DRAGOON.

Oh, love is the soul of an Irish dragoon In battle, in bivouac, or in saloon, From the tip of his spur to his bright sabretasche.

With his soldierly gait and his bearing so high, His gay laughing look and his light speaking eye, He frowns at his rival, he ogles his wench, He springs in his saddle and _cha.s.ses_ the French, With his jingling spur and his bright sabretasche.

His spirits are high, and he little knows care, Whether sipping his claret or charging a square, With his jingling spur and his bright sabretasche.

As ready to sing or to skirmish he's found, To take off his wine or to take up his ground; When the bugle may call him, how little he fears To charge forth in column and beat the Mounseers, With his jingling spur and his bright sabretasche.

When the battle is over, he gayly rides back To cheer every soul in the night bivouac, With his jingling spur and his bright sabretasche.

Oh, there you may see him in full glory crowned, As he sits 'midst his friends on the hardly won ground, And hear with what feeling the toast he will give, As he drinks to the land where all Irishmen live, With his jingling spur and his bright sabretasche.

It was late when we broke up; but among all the recollections of that pleasant evening none clung to me so forcibly, none sank so deeply in my heart, as the gay and careless tone of Power's manly voice; and as I fell asleep towards morning, the words of "The Irish Dragoon" were floating through my mind and followed me in my dreams.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE VICE-PROVOST.

I had now been for some weeks a resident within the walls of the university, and yet had never presented my letter of introduction to Dr.