Sporting Society - Volume I Part 7
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Volume I Part 7

Albatross commenced to growl.

"Dear me, this is very awkward!" cried Podgers, poking at the animal in a vigorous and irritated way.

"Time's up, sir," shouted the guard, essaying to close the door.

"Hold hard, sir! I can't get my dog out!" cried Podgers.

"I'll get him out," volunteered the guard; and, seizing upon the whip which the smart driver of the smart trap held in inviting proximity, he proceeded to thrust and buffet beneath the seat where Albatross lay concealed. The dog uttered no sound, gave no sign.

"There ain't no dog there at all," panted the guard, whose exertions rendered him nearly apoplectic, proceeding to explore the recesses of the carriage--"there ain't no dog here."

A shout of terror, and the guard flung himself out of the carriage, the dog hanging on not only to his coat-tails, but to a portion of the garment which their drapery concealed. "Take off your dog--take off your dog. I'll be destroyed. Police! police! I'll have the law of you!"

he yelled, in an extremity of the utmost terror.

Podgers, who was now nearly driven to his wits' end, caught Albatross by the neck, and, bestowing a series of well-directed kicks upon the devoted animal, sent him howling off the platform, but right under the train.

The cry of "The dog will be killed!" was raised by a chorus of voices both from the carriages and the platform. Happily, however, the now wary Albatross lay flat upon the ground, and the train went puffing on its way; not, however, until the guard had taken Podgers' name and address, with a view to future proceedings through the medium of the law.

"I had no idea that the O'Rooneys were such swells," observed my companion as we entered, through the ma.s.sive and gilded gates, to the avenue which sweeps up to Ballybawn House. "Somehow or other, I wish I hadn't fetched Albatross, or that you hadn't spoken about him;" and Podgers threw a gloomy glance in the direction of the pointer, who lay at our feet in the bottom of the trap, looking as if he had been on the rampage for the previous month, or had just emerged from the asylum for the dest.i.tute of his species.

"He won't do us much credit as regards his appearance," I said; "but if he is all that you say as a sporting dog--of which I have my doubts--it will make amends for anything."

Podgers muttered something unintelligible, and I saw dismal forebodings written in every line of his countenance.

Mr O'Rooney received us at the hall-door. Beside him crouched two magnificent setters, with coats as glossy as mirrors, and a bearing as aristocratic as that of Bethgellart.

"Where's the dog?" asked our host, after a warm greeting. "I hope that you have brought him."

I must confess that I would have paid a considerable sum of money to have been enabled to reply in the negative. I muttered that we had indeed fetched him, but that owing to his having met with some accidents _en voyage_, his personal appearance was considerably diminished; but that we were not to judge books by their covers.

As if to worry, vex, and mortify us, Albatross declined to stir from the bottom of the trap, from whence he was subsequently rooted out in a most undignified and anti-sporting way.

The expression upon Mr O'Rooney's face, when at length the animal, badger-like, was drawn, was that of an intense astonishment, combined with a mirth convulsively compressed. The servants commenced to t.i.tter, and the smart little gentleman who tooled us over actually laughed outright.

Albatross was partly covered with mud and offal. His eyes were watery, and the lids were of a dull pink, imparting a sort of maudlin idiotcy to their expression. His right ear stood up defiantly, whilst his left lay flat upon his jowl, and his tail seemed to have disappeared altogether, so tightly had he, under the combined influence of fear and dejection, secured it between his legs.

"He's not very handsome," observed our host laughingly, "but I dare say he will take the shine out of York and Lancaster, by-and-by," pointing to the two setters as he spoke.

This hint was enough for Albatross, as no sooner had the words escaped the lips of O'Rooney than, with a yowl which sent the rooks whirling from their nests, he darted from the trap, and, making a charge at York, sent that aristocratic animal flying up the avenue in a paroxysm of terror and despair; whilst Lancaster, paralysed by the suddenness of the onslaught, allowed himself to be seized by the neck, and worried, as a cat worries a mouse, without as much as moving a muscle in self-defence.

This was too much. I had borne with this hideous animal too long. My patience was utterly exhausted, and all the bad temper in my composition began to boil up. I had placed myself under an obligation to a comparative stranger for the purpose of beholding his magnificent and valuable dogs scared and worried by a worthless cur. Seizing upon a garden-rake that lay against the wall, I dealt at Albatross what ought to have proved a crushing blow, which he artfully eluded. It only grazed him, and fell, with almost its full swing and strength, upon the pa.s.sive setter, who set up a series of unearthly shrieks, almost human in their painful shrillness.

"Chain up that dog at once!" shouted O'Rooney in fierce and angry tones, "and look to Lancaster. I fear that his ribs are broken. This is very unfortunate," he added, addressing himself to me.

"I don't know what's come over the animal!" exclaimed Podgers. "I wish to heaven I had never seen him. I'll part with him to-morrow, if I have to give him to the Zoological Gardens for the bears."

Luckily, it turned out, upon examination, that Lancaster was not in any way seriously injured. This put us into somewhat better spirits, so that by the time breakfast was concluded we were on good terms with each other, and even with the wretched Albatross, in whom we still maintained a sort of sickly confidence. Later on we started for the turnips, Mr O'Rooney and Podgers in front--the latter hauling Albatross along as if he was a sack of wheat; whilst I brought up the rear with a gamekeeper and York.

"I don't think that animal is used to be out at all, at all," observed the keeper.

"I'm afraid you are quite right," I replied; "but I hear that he is a very good sporting dog."

"Sportin'! Begorra, he'll give yez sport enough before the day is half over," said the keeper, with a gloomy grin.

"There is always a covey to be found in this field," observed our host to Podgers, "so we'll give your dog the first chance."

"I--I--I'd rather you'd let him see what your dog will do," blurted Podgers.

"Oh, dear no!" returned Mr O'Rooney. "Let him go now. You'll take the first shot."

Very reluctantly indeed did Podgers unloose his pointer, uttering into the dog's ear in a low tone the most terrific and appalling threats should he fail to prove himself all that my fancy had painted him. With a loud bark of defiance Albatross darted away, scurrying through the turnips at the rate of fifteen miles an hour, utterly unmindful of whistle, call, blandishment, or threat, appearing now in one direction, now in another, and barking as though it had been part of its training.

"Stop that dog," cried our host, "he won't leave us a bird," as covey after covey of partridges rose beyond range and flew away, Albatross joyously barking after them.

"You said I was to have the first shot, Mr O'Rooney," said Podgers, in a tone full of solemnity.

"Certainly, if you can get it; which I doubt," was the curt reply.

Albatross had dashed within twenty yards of us, and was plunging off in another direction, when Podgers ran forward, raised his gun. Bang!

Albatross was sent to the happy hunting-grounds of his race.

"He frightened the partridge," observed Podgers, proceeding to reload; "_let him frighten the crows now_."

THE DEAD HEAT

No, never had there been such a state of excitement in any ball-room before, when it became known that Captain O'Rooney had entrapped Lieutenant Charles Fortescue, of the Stiffshire Regiment, into a thousand guineas match P.P., owners up, twelve stone each, and four miles over the stiffest country in Galway.

The match had been made at the supper-table, after the ladies had left; but nevertheless, the news had been carried to them, and they were furious.

"Fancy," said one, a tall, handsome brunette, "that that little wretched bandy-legged O'Rooney should have got round our handsome friend in such a mean way. He is jealous and disgusted with Fortescue's waltzing, and he _is_ the best waltzer in Ireland."

"I'll make him a set of colours to ride in," returned the toast of five counties, the beautiful Alice Gwynne. "I never made any before, but 'there's luck in odd numbers, says Rory O'More,' and so he is sure to win in them."

"Too bad," exclaimed the gray-haired Colonel of Fortescue's regiment to some gentlemen standing by him at the supper-table, "to have hounded the lad into it. O'Rooney is a noted steeplechase rider, and my boy"

(he always called the youngsters of his regiment his boys), "though a workman across country, never rode a race in his life; but I hear that Captain O'Rooney has the character of looking up the Griffs."

"Faith, Colonel, ye are about right there," said a jolly-looking young Irishman; "he is just the boy that can do that same; he is mad now because Fortescue's English horse cut him down to-day, and pounded him--a thing that has never been done before."

"Bedad, you're out there, Mat," put in another; "I'd be after thinking it is because the Leaftenent has been making mighty strong running entirely with Alice Gwynne all this blessed night. O'Rooney, by my faith, does not like _that_, devil a hap'orth; he considers himself the favoured one--the consated spalpeen."

"He the favoured one!" remarked big H----, of Fortescue's regiment; "why, he cannot suppose he would have a ghost of a chance with that pug nose and whisky-toddy countenance of his against Fortescue of ours.

Why, Old Nick himself could not boast of an uglier face than Pat Rooney. Fortescue is about the handsomest and nicest fellow in the service, and though only a poor man, yet there are devilish few girls, at least of any taste, who would give him the 'cold shoulder.'"