"But, my Lord, you mistake Mr. Cashel," said Lady Kilgoff, eagerly bending forward as she spoke. "His n.o.ble gift is to compensate these brave fellows for a loss, as well as reward them for an act of devotion.--How silly in me to reason with him! see, Mr. Cashel, his mind is quite shaken by this calamity."

"Your defence compensates a hundred such reproofs," said Cashel, with warmth. "Well, Mr. Sickleton," said he, anxious to quit a painful topic, "what of this schooner yacht you spoke of awhile ago?"

"The handsomest craft that ever swam," said the lieutenant, delighted to discuss a favorite theme. "Lord Wellingham has married, and they say won't keep her any longer. You 'll get her for ten thousand, and the story is she cost about fourteen."

"But perhaps Mr. Cashel may soon follow her n.o.ble owner's example," said Lady Kilgoff, smiling, and with a subdued look towards Roland.

"Don't give him bad counsel, my Lady."

"It really does seem to me a kind of inveteracy thus to talk of buying a new yacht within a few hours after losing one."

"Like a widower looking out for a new wife, I suppose," said the lieutenant, laughing.

"No, sir, I beg to correct you," broke in my Lord, with a snappishness that made the bearers start; "her Ladyship is not yet a widow, although her levity might seem to imply it."

"My Lord, I must protest against this sarcastic humor," said she, with a mild dignity. "Our terrible catastrophe may have disturbed your right judgment, but I pray select another theme for misconstruction. Mr.

Cashel, I will wish you a good-night. In the difficulty in which I am placed, I can only say that my perfect confidence in your counsel satisfies me it will be such as you ought to give and I to follow."

"Yes, sir, of course; when the lady says, 'Follow,' I hope you know a gentleman's devoir better than to disobey." These words were uttered by the old man with a sneering impertinence that augured no absence of mind; but ere the door closed upon Lady Kilgoff his face had again put on its former dull and vacant stare, and it was clear that the momentary intelligence was past and over.

"Now, Sickleton," said Cashel, as if at length able to give his mind to the details before him, "you will haste to Dublin; send us the carriages with all the speed you can muster; pack off her Ladyship's maid and the wardrobe, and don't forget that dressing-case at Seward's. I should like to have her crest upon it, but there's no time for that--besides, we should only have more scandal in Dublin when it got abroad. Then for Kennyf.e.c.k: tell him I have no money, and stand much in need of it, for, as my Lord says, mine are buccaneer's habits; and lastly, run over to Cowes and secure the yacht--we must have her. I'm much mistaken, or our friends here will take a cruise with us among the Greek Islands one of these days."

"Treacherous navigation, too!" said Sickleton, with a dryness that seemed to imply more than the mere words.

"What if it be, man! they say there's nothing much worse anywhere than the line of coast here beside us."

"Well, and have n't we suffered enough to make us credit the report?"

He paused, and then dropping his voice to a low and cautious whisper, added, "Not but that I shall call you lucky if all the danger has ended with the loss of the vessel."

"How? What do you mean?" asked Cashel, in atone of great eagerness.

"Cannot you guess?" said the other, with an imperturbable coolness.

"No, on my honor, I have n't a thought whither your words point."

"Then, faith, the peril is fifty times greater and nearer than I suspected," cried he, warmly. "When a man cracks on all that he can carry, and more than is safe, you at least give him credit for knowing the channel, and understanding its bearings; but when he tells you that he neither knows the course nor the soundings, why you set him down as mad."

"I shall not be very far removed from that condition if you'll not condescend to explain yourself more freely," said Cashel, with some irritation of manner. "Where is this danger? and what is it?"

Sickleton looked at him for a second or two, then at the old peer; and, at last, with a scarcely perceptible movement of his head, motioned towards the door by which Lady Kilgoff had just pa.s.sed out.

"You surely cannot mean--you do not suppose--"

"No matter what I suppose; all I say is, there are worse breakers ahead of you just now than the 'Lucciola' had last night; haul your wind, and draw off while you have time. Besides, look yonder,"--and he pointed with a jerk of his thumb to Lord Kilgoff, who still sat with stolid gaze fixed upon the red embers of the fire,--"that would be a victory with but little honor!"

Cashel started to his feet, and, pa.s.sing his hand over his forehead, seemed, as it were, trying to disabuse his mind of some painful illusion. His features, flushed and animated an instant before, had grown almost livid in pallor; and he stood, with one hand leaning on the chair from which he had risen, like one recovering from a fainting fit At last, and with a voice husky and hoa.r.s.e from emotion, he said, "Sickleton, if I had thought this--if, I say, I even believed what you hint at possible--"

"Pooh! pooh!" broke in the other; "why anchor in three fathoms when you 've deep water beside you? You 'll not hug a lee-sh.o.r.e with a fresh breeze on your quarter; and all I ask is, that you 'd not risk the loss of that n.o.ble craft merely that you may spoil the wreck."

Cashel grasped the rough seaman's hand in both his own, and shook it with warmth.

"I can only say this," said the bluff lieutenant, rising, "if such be the object of your cruises, you must seek another shipmate than Bob Sickleton; and so good-night."

"Are you going?" said Cashel, with a sorrowful voice. "I wish you were not about to leave thus."

"I have given you your bearings; that ought to be enough for you.

Good-night, once more." And with this the honest-hearted lieutenant threw his boat-cloak around him, and sallied forth to the door, before which a chaise was in waiting to convey him to Dublin.

As for Roland, his agitated and excited mind banished all desire for sleep, and he wandered out upon the beach, where, resolving many a good intention for the future, he walked to and fro till day was breaking.

CHAPTER x.x.x. MISS LEICESTER'S DREAM AND ITS FULFILMENT

Old walls have mouths as well as ears.

The Convent: a Play.

To us of the present day, who see what Genii are guineas, fairy tales are mere allegories. Your true sorcerer is a credit "on Coutts,"

and anything may be esteemed within his power who reckons by tens of thousands.

Tom Linton was experimenting on this problem somewhat largely at Tubbermore, where the old, misshapen, ugly house had undergone such a series of transformations inside and out that the oldest inhabitant might have failed to recognize it. Roman cement and stucco--those cosmetics of architecture--had given to the front a most plausible air; and what with a great flagged terrace beneath and a bal.u.s.trade parapet above, the whole had put on a wonderful look of solidity and importance.

French windows and plate-gla.s.s, stuccoed architraves and richly traceried balconies, from which access was had to various terraces and flower-plats, contributed an appearance of lightness to the building; and what was lost in architectural elegance, was fully recompensed by convenience and facility of enjoyment.

Within, the arrangements were excellent, and, as regarded the object in view, perfect; various suites of apartments, so separated as to be actually like residences, abounded throughout, so that the guests might either indulge their solitude undisturbed, or mix in the wide circle of the general company. For the latter, a magnificent suite of rooms led along the entire bas.e.m.e.nt story. Here, considering the shortness of the time and the difficulties encountered, Linton's skill was pre-eminently distinguished. Painting was too slow a process for such an emergency, and accordingly the walls were hung with rich silks and stuffs from the looms of Lyons, draped in a hundred graceful fashions, while the floors, laid down in the rough, were concealed by the ma.s.sive texture of Persian carpets, the most costly ever brought to this country. The air of comfort and "livableness"--if we may coin a word--depicted on every side, took away the reproach of ostentatious splendor, which perhaps might have been applied to rich decorations and gorgeous details in a mere country house. And this was managed with no mean skill; and he must have been a stern critic who could have canva.s.sed too rigidly the merit of appliances so manifestly provided for his own enjoyment. Books and pictures--the Penates of domesticity--were there, and everything possible was done to give a semblance of long habitation to that which but a few weeks back had been a dreary ruin.

A critical eye might have detected in many instances the evidences of a more refined taste than Mr. Linton's, and so was it Miss Leicester had frequently aided him by her advice and suggestions, and every day, when the weather permitted, saw old Mr. Corrigan and his granddaughter repair to Tubbermore, whose progress they watched with a degree of interest only felt by those whose retirement admits few sources of amus.e.m.e.nt There was a secret cause of pride, too, in seeing the old residence of the family--marred as had been its proportions by frequent and tasteless additions--resume something of its once grandeur. Mary, whose earliest lessons in infancy had been the tales of her powerful ancestors, who lorded over an almost princely tract, entered heart and soul into a course which favored so many of fancy's pleasantest fictions. Her greatest delight, however, was in the restoration of one part of the building, which all former innovators had apparently despaired of, and left as a species of storehouse for every kind of lumber. This was a great square tower, with an adjoining chapel, the floor of which was formed by the tombstones of her earliest ancestors. One compartment of a stained-gla.s.s window showed "the helmet and torch," the arms of the O'Regans, from which the family, by a corruption, took the name of Corrigan; and various other mementos abounded to prove the high station they had once supported.

Strongly imbued with a knowledge of the tales and customs of the period, Mary restored the chapel to all the emblazoned splendor of the sixteenth century. The rich carvings that modern research has discovered and carried away from the chateaux of the Low Countries were adapted to the place, and speedily the interior put on an air of highly preserved and cherished antiquity.

The tower adjoining was also converted into a great chamber of audience,--a "Ritter-Saal,"--hung round with weapons of the chase and war, while great buffets displayed a wealth of antique plate and china, of gem-wrought cups and ma.s.sive flagons, that lent a l.u.s.tre to its otherwise too stern appearance. Lighted by a range of stained windows far from the ground, the tempered sunlight cast a mellow glance on every object; and here, in the silence of the noon, when the workmen had gone to dinner, Mary used to sit alone, some strange spell fascinating her to a spot where echoes had once awoke to the tramp of her own kinsmen's footsteps.

"Tell me, Mr. Linton," said she, as he entered suddenly, and found her seated in her favorite place, "what part of the chapel adjoins the wall we see yonder?"

"That," said Linton, musing for a second,--"that, if I mistake not, must be what you styled the crypt; the--"

"Exactly!" cried she, with animation. "The crypt is somewhat lower than this chamber, two steps or so?"

"About as much."

"How strange, how very strange!" she said, half to herself.

"What is strange!" said Linton, smiling at the intense preoccupation of her features.

"You will laugh outright," said she, "if I tell you. It was a dream I had last night about this chamber."

"Pray let me hear it," said Linton, seating himself, and affecting a deep interest "I own to a most implicit confidence in dreams."