"It will be, doubtless, in our readers' recollection how a short time back an armed slaver, sailing under the flag of Columbia, was taken, after a most severe and sanguinary engagement, by H.M. brig 'Hornet.' The commander, a young Spaniard of singularly handsome exterior, and with all the bearing and appearance of a rank very different from his mode of life, was carried off and confined in St. Kitts'

till such time as he could be brought to trial.

Representations from the Government of the Republic were, however, made, and a claim preferred for indemnity, not only for the loss of the vessel and property, but for the loss of life and other injury incurred on the capture. While this singular demand was under investigation, the young Spaniard alluded to contrived to break his bonds and escape: the only mode of doing which was by a leap into the sea from the parapet of the fortress, a height, we are informed, of nigh one hundred feet. They who are acquainted with the locality a.s.sert that if he even survived the desperate leap, he must inevitably have fallen a victim to the sharks who frequent the bay to catch the bodies of all who die in the prison, and who, it would appear, are thus unceremoniously disposed of. This supposition would seem, however, in some respect, contradicted by the circ.u.mstance that a Venezuelan cruiser, which hung about the sh.o.r.e for the two preceding days, sailed on the very night of his escape, and, in all probability, with him on board."

"I could swear he is safe!" cried Cashel, in an ecstasy of enthusiasm; "he's a glorious fellow."

"Who is that?" said Linton, looking up; "any one I know?"

"No, indeed!" said Cashel. Then suddenly checking himself in a speech whose opening accents were far from flattering, he added, "One you never even heard of."

He once more addressed himself to the letter, which, however, merely contained some not very brilliant commentaries of Mr. Kennyf.e.c.k over the preceding extract, and which, after enumerating a great many modes of investigating the event, concluded with the only thing like common sense in the whole, by recommending a strict silence and secrecy about it all.

Cashel was closing the epistle, when he caught on the turn-down the following lines;--

"Mr. Linton has written to me about something like a legal transfer of the cottage and lands of Tubberbeg, which he mentions your having presented to him. What reply am I to return to this? I stated that you had already a.s.sured Mr. Corrigan, the present tenant, of an undisturbed possession of the tenure, but Mr. L. interrupted my explanation by saying that he only desired an a.s.signment of the property, such as would give a parliamentary qualification, and that all pledges made to Mr. C.

he would regard as equally binding on himself."

Cashel's first impulse, when he had read thus far, was to show Linton the paragraph, and frankly ask him what he wished to be done; indeed, he had already advanced towards him with that object, when he checked himself. "It might seem ungracious to ask any explanation. There had been already a moment of awkwardness about that same cottage, and Linton had behaved so well; and, of course, only asking him for the possession as a means of qualifying, Corrigan need never hear of it Besides, he could make Linton a present of much greater real value as soon as the circ.u.mstances of the estate became better known." Such and such-like reasonings pa.s.sed hastily through his brain; and as all his resolves were quickly formed, and as quickly acted on, he sat down and wrote:

Dear Mr. Kennyf.e.c.k,--Many thanks for the information of your note, which has served to allay all my anxiety for a valued friend. As to Linton, you will have the goodness to satisfy him in every particular, and make all and every legal t.i.tle he desires to the cottage and grounds of Tubberbeg. Although he is now at my side while I write, I have not alluded to the subject, feeling the awkwardness of touching on a theme so delicate. Say, however, for me, that Corrigan is not to be disturbed, nor any pledge I have made towards him--no matter how liberally construed by him--to be, in any respect, infringed.--Yours, in great haste,

"Why you are quite a man of business to-day, Cashel, with your correspondence and letter-writing; and I 'm sorry for it, for I wanted to have a bit of serious talk with you,--that is, if it do not bore you."

"Not in the least. I was, I own it, nervous and uneasy this morning; now, however, my mind is at ease, and I am quite ready for anything."

"Well, then, without preamble, are you still of the same mind about Parliament, because the time is hastening on when you ought to come to some decision on the matter?"

"I have never bestowed a thought on the matter since," said Cashel.

"The truth is, when I hear people talk politics in society, I am only astonished at their seeming bigotry and one-sidedness; and when I read newspapers of opposite opinions, I am equally confounded at the excellent arguments they display for diametrically contradictory lines of action, so that my political education makes but little progress."

"What you say is perfectly just," said Linton, appearing to reflect profoundly. "A man of real independence--not the mere independence of fortune, but the far higher independence of personal character--has much to endure in our tangled and complex system of legislation. As for yourself, for instance, who can afford to despise patronage, who have neither sons to advance in the Navy, nor nephews in the Foreign Office, who neither want the Bath nor a baronetcy, who would be as sick of the flatteries as you would be disgusted with the servility of party--why you should submit to the dust and heat, the turmoil and fatigue of a session, I can't think. And how you would be bored,--bored by the ceaseless reiterations night after night, the same arguments growing gradually weaker as the echo grew fainter; bored by the bits of 'Horace'

got off by heart to wind up with; bored by the bad jests of witty members; bored by Peel's candor, and Palmerston's petulance; by Cobden's unblushing effrontery, and Hume's tiresome placidity. You 'd never know a happy day nor a joyous hour till you accepted the Chiltern Hundreds, and cut them all. No; the better course for you would be, choose a nominee for your borough; select a man in whom you have confidence.

Think of some one over whom your influence would be complete, who would have no other aim than in following out your suggestions; some one, in fact, who unites sufficient ability with personal friendship. What d' ye think of Kennyf.e.c.k?"

"Poor Kennyf.e.c.k," said Cashel, laughing, "he'd never think of such a thing."

"I don't know," said Linton, musing; "it might not suit him, but his wife would like it prodigiously."

"Shall I propose it, then?" said Cashel.

"Better not, perhaps," said Linton, appearing to reflect; "his income, which is a right good one, is professional. This, of course, he 'd forfeit by accepting a seat in the House. Besides, really, the poor man would make no way. No, we must think of some one else. Do you like White?"

"Leicester White? I detest the man, and the wife too."

"Well, there's Frobisher, a fellow of good name and family. I 'd not go bail for his preferring your interests to his own, but as times go, you might chance upon worse. Will you have Frobisher?"

"I have no objection," said Cashel, carelessly; "would he like it himself?"

"Would he like anything that might help him to a step in the regiment, or place him in a position to sell himself, you, and the borough const.i.tuency, to the highest bidder?" said Linton, irritated at Cashel's half a.s.sent.

"Well, if these be his principles," cried Cashel, laughing, "I think we 'd better put him aside."

"You 're right; he 'd never do," said Linton, recovering all his self-possession; "what you want is a man sufficiently unconnected with ties of family or party, to see in you his patron and his object, and who, with cleverness enough to enunciate the views you desire to see prevail, has also the strong bond of personal regard to make him always even more the friend than the follower."

"I only know of one man who realizes all this combination," said Cashel, smiling, "and _he_ would n't answer."

"Who is he,--and why?" asked Linton, in vain endeavoring to look easy and unconcerned.

"Tom Linton is the man, and his invincible laziness the 'why.' Isn't that true?"

"By George, Cashel, if you 're content with the first part of the a.s.sertion, I 'll pledge myself to remedy the latter. I own, frankly, it is a career for which I have no predilection; if I had, I should have been 'in' many years ago. I have all my life held very cheap your great political leaders, both as regards capacity and character, and I have ever fancied that I should have had some success in the lists; but I have always loved ease, and that best of ease, independence. If you think, however, that I can worthily represent you in Parliament, and that you could safely trust to my discretion the knotty question of political war, say the word, my boy, and I 'll fling my 'far niente'

habits to the wind, and you shall have all the merit of developing the promising member for--what's the name of it?"

"Derraheeny."

"Exactly--the honorable and learned--for Derraheeny. I rather like the t.i.tle."

"Well, Linton, if you are really serious--"

"Most a.s.suredly, serious; and more, to prove it, I shall ask you to clench our bargain at once. It is not enough that you make me your nominee, but you must also render me eligible to become so."

"I don't clearly comprehend--"

"I 'll enlighten you. Our venerable const.i.tution, perfectly irrespective of the Tom Lintons of this world--a race which, by the way, never dies out, probably because they have avoided intermarriage--has decided that a man must possess something besides his wits to be qualified as 'Member of Parliament;' a strange law, because the aforesaid wits are all that the Honorable House has any reason to lay claim to. This same something which guarantees that a man has a legislative capacity, amounts to some hundreds a year. Don't be impatient, and come out with any piece of rash generosity; I don't want you to make a present of an estate--only to lend me one! To be qualified, either as a candidate for the House or a gentleman rider, one only needs a friend,--a well-to-do friend, who 'll say, 'He's all right.'"

"I 'm quite ready to vouch for you, Tom, but you 'll have to take the affair into your own management."

"Oh, it's easy enough. That same cottage and the farm which we spoke of the other day, Kennyf.e.c.k can make out a kind of conveyance, or whatever the instrument is called, by which it acknowledges me for its owner, vice Roland Cashel, Esquire. This, properly sealed, signed, and so on, will defy the most searching Committee that ever pried into any gentleman's private circ.u.mstances."

"Then explain it all to Kennyf.e.c.k, and say that I wish it done at once."

"Nay, Cashel, pardon me. My ugliest enemy will not call me punctilious, but I must stand upon a bit of ceremony here. This must be ordered by yourself. You are doing a gracious thing,--a devilish kind thing,--it must not be done by halves. Were I to communicate this to Kennyf.e.c.k, he 'll unquestionably obey the direction, but most certainly he 'd say to the first man he met, 'See how Linton has managed to trick Cashel out of a very considerable slice of landed property.' He 'd not take much trouble to state the nature of our compact; he 'd rather blink the whole arrangement, altogether, and make the thing seem a direct gift. Now, I have too much pride on your account, and my own too, to stand this."

"Well, well, it shall be as you like; only I trow I disagree with you about old Kennyf.e.c.k: he 's a fine straight-hearted fellow--he's--"

"He 's an attorney, Cashel. These fellows can no more comprehend a transfer of property without a trial at bar, or a suit in Equity, than an Irish second can understand a falling out without one of the parties being brought home on a door. Besides, he has rather a grudge against me. I never told you,--indeed, I never meant to tell you,--but I can have no secrets from you. You know the youngest girl, Olivia?"

"Yes, go on," said Cashel, red and pale by turns.

"Well, I flirted a good deal last winter with her. Upon my life, I did not intend it to have gone so far; I suppose it must have gone far, though, because she became desperately in love. She is very pretty, certainly, and a really good little girl,--_mais, que voulez-vous?_ If I tie a fly on my hook I can't afford to see a flounder or a perch walk off with it; it's the speckled monster of the stream I fish for. They ought to have known that themselves,--I 've no doubt they did, too; but they were determined, as they say here, to die 'innocent,' and so one fine morning I was just going to join the hounds at Finglas, when old Kennyf.e.c.k, very trimly dressed, and looking unutterable importance, entered my lodgings. There's a formula for these kind of explanations--I 've gone through seven of these myself, and I 'll swear that every papa has opened the conference with a solemn appeal to Heaven 'that he never was aware of the attentions shown his daughter, nor the state of his dear child's affections, till last evening.' They always a.s.sure you, besides, that if they could give a million and a half as dowry, you are the very man--the actual one individual--they would have selected; so that on an average most young ladies have met with at least half-a-dozen parties whom the fathers have p.r.o.nounced to be, separately, the one most valued. Kennyf.e.c.k behaved, I must say, admirably. His wife would have a Galway cousin sent for, and a duel; some other kind friend suggested to have me waylaid and thrashed. He calmly heard me for about ten minutes, and then taking up his hat and gloves, said, 'Take your rule,' and so it ended. I dined there the next Sunday,--yes, that's part of my system: I never permit people to nourish small grudges, and go about abusing me to my acquaintances. If they _will_ do that, I overwhelm them by their duplicity, as I am seen constantly in their intimacy, and remarkable for always speaking well of them, so that the world will certainly give it against them. The gist of all this tiresome story is, that Kennyf.e.c.k and the ladies would, if occasion served, pay off the old debt to me; therefore, beware if you hear me canva.s.sed in that quarter!" Linton, like many other cunning people, very often lapsed into little confessions of the tactics by which he played his game in the world, and although Cashel was not by any means a dangerous confidant to such disclosures, he now marked with feelings not all akin to satisfaction this acknowledgment of his friend's skill.

"You 'd never have shown your face there again, I 'll wager a hundred!"

said Linton, reading in the black look of Roland's countenance an expression he did not fancy.

"You are right. I should have deemed it unfair to impose on the young lady a part so full of awkwardness as every meeting must necessitate."

"That comes of your innocence about women, my dear friend; they have face for anything. It is not hypocrisy, it is not that they do not feel, and feel deeply, but their sense of command, their instinct of what is becoming, is a thousand times finer than ours; and I am certain that when we take all manner of care to, what is called, spare their feelings, we are in reality only sparing them a cherished opportunity of exercising a control over those feelings which we foolishly suppose to be as ungovernable as our own."

Either not agreeing with the sentiment, or unable to cope with its subtlety, Cashel sat some time without speaking. From Olivia Kennyf.e.c.k his thoughts reverted to one in every respect unlike her,--the daring, impetuous Maritana.