"_Ought_--to be sure." said Lady O'Shane; "but that is no rule for young gentlemen's conduct. I told both the young gentlemen that we were to have a dance to-night. I mentioned the hour, and begged them to be punctual."

"Young men are never punctual," said Sir Ulick; "but Marcus is inexcusable to-night on account of the Annalys."

Sir Ulick pondered for a moment with an air of vexation, then turning to the musicians, who were behind him, "You four-and-twenty fiddlers all in a row, you gentlemen musicians, sc.r.a.pe and tune on a little longer, if you please. Remember _you are not ready_ till I draw on my gloves. Break a string or two, if necessary."

"We will--we shall--plase your honour."

"I wish, Lady O'Shane," continued Sir Ulick in a lower tone, "I wish you had given me a hint of this."

"Truth to tell, Sir Ulick, I did, I own, conceive from your walk and way, that you were not in a condition to take any hint I could give."

"Pshaw, my dear, after having known me, I won't say loved me, a calendar year, how can you be so deceived by outward appearances? Don't you know that I hate drinking? But when I have these county electioneering friends, the worthy red noses, to entertain, I suit myself to the company, by acting spirits instead of swallowing them, for I should scorn to appear to flinch!"

This was true. Sir Ulick could, and often did, to the utmost perfection, counterfeit every degree of intoxication. He could act the rise, decline, and fall of the drunken man, marking the whole progress, from the first incipient hesitation of reason to the glorious confusion of ideas in the highest state of _elevation_, thence through all the declining cases of stultified paralytic inept.i.tude, down to the horizontal condition of preterpluperfect ebriety.

"Really, Sir Ulick, you are so good an actor that I don't pretend to judge--I can seldom find out the truth from you."

"So much the better for you, my dear, if you knew but all," said Sir Ulick, laughing.

"If I knew but all!" repeated her ladyship, with an alarmed look.

"But that's not the matter in hand at present, my dear."

Sir Ulick protracted the interval before the opening of the ball as long as he possibly could--but in vain--the young gentlemen did not appear.

Sir Ulick drew on his gloves. The broken strings of the violins were immediately found to be mended. Sir Ulick opened the ball himself with Miss Annaly, after making as handsome an apology for his son as the case would admit--an apology which was received by the young lady with the most graceful good-nature. She declined dancing more than one dance, and Sir Ulick sat down between her and Lady Annaly, exerting all his powers of humour to divert them, at the expense of his cousin, the King of the Black Islands, whose tedious ferry, or whose claret, or more likely whose whiskey-punch, he was sure, had been the cause of Marcus's misdemeanour. It was now near twelve o'clock. Lady O'Shane, who had made many aggravating reflections upon the disrespectful conduct of the young gentlemen, grew restless on another _count_. The gates were left open for them--the gates ought to be locked! There were disturbances in the country. "Pshaw!" Sir Ulick said. Opposite directions were given at opposite doors to two servants.

"Dempsey, tell them they need not lock the gates till the young gentlemen come home, or at least till one o'clock," said Sir Ulick.

"Stone," said Lady O'Shane to her own man in a very low voice, "go down directly, and see that the gates are locked, and bring me the keys."

Dempsey, an Irishman, who was half drunk, forgot to see or say any thing about it. Stone, an Englishman, went directly to obey his lady's commands, and the gates were locked, and the keys brought to her ladyship, who put them immediately into her work-table.

Half an hour afterwards, as Lady O'Shane was sitting with her back to the gla.s.s-door of the green house, which opened into the ball-room, she was startled by a peremptory tap on the gla.s.s behind her; she turned, and saw young Ormond, pale as death, and stained with blood.

"The keys of the gate instantly," cried he, "for mercy's sake!"

CHAPTER II.

Lady O'Shane, extremely terrified, had scarcely power to rise. She opened the drawer of the table, and thrust her trembling hand down to the bottom of the silk bag, into which the keys had fallen. Impatient of delay, Ormond pushed open the door, s.n.a.t.c.hed the keys, and disappeared.

The whole pa.s.sed in a few seconds. The music drowned the noise of the opening door, and of the two chairs, which Ormond had thrown down: those who sat near, thought a servant had pushed in and gone out; but, however rapid the movement, the full view of the figure had been seen by Miss Annaly, who was sitting on the opposite side of the room; Sir Ulick was sitting beside her, talking earnestly. Lady Annaly had just retired.

"For Heaven's sake, what's the matter?" cried he, stopping in the middle of a sentence, on seeing Miss Annaly grow suddenly pale as death.

Her eyes were fixed on the door of the green-house; his followed that direction. "Yes," said he, "we can get out into the air that way--lean on me." She did so--he pushed his way through the crowd at the bottom of the country dance; and, as he pa.s.sed, was met by Lady O'Shane and Miss Black, both with faces of horror.

"Sir Ulick, did you see," pointing to the door, "did you see Mr.

Ormond?--There's blood!"

"There's mischief, certainly," said Miss Black. "A quarrel--Mr. Marcus, perhaps."

"Nonsense! No such thing, you'll find," said Sir Ulick, pushing on, and purposely jostling the arm of a servant who was holding a salver of ices, overturning them all; and whilst the surrounding company were fully occupied about their clothes, and their fears, and apologies, he made his way onwards to the green-house--Lady O'Shane clinging to one arm--Miss Annaly supported by the other--Miss Black following, repeating, "Mischief! mischief! you'll see, sir."

"Miss Black, open the door, and not another word."

He edged Miss Annaly on, the moment the door opened, dragged Lady O'Shane after him, pushed Miss Black back as she attempted to follow: but, recollecting that she might spread the report of mischief, if he left her behind, drew her into the green-house, locked the door, and led Miss Annaly out into the air.

"Bring salts! water! something, Miss Black--follow me, Lady O'Shane."

"When I'm hardly able--your wife! Sir Ulick, you might," said Lady O'Shane, as she tottered on, "you might, I should have _thought_--"

"No time for such thoughts, my dear," interrupted he. "Sit down on the steps--there, she is better now--now what is all this?"

"I am not to speak," said Miss Black.

Lady O'Shane began to say how Mr. Ormond had burst in, covered with blood, and seized the keys of the gates.

"The keys!" But he had no time for _that_ thought. "Which way did he go?"

"I don't know; I gave him the keys of both gates."

The two entrances were a mile asunder. Sir Ulick looked for footsteps on the gra.s.s. It was a fine moonlight night. He saw footsteps on the path leading to the gardener's house. "Stay here, ladies, and I will bring you intelligence as soon as possible."

"This way, Sir Ulick--they are coming," said Miss Annaly, who had now recovered her presence of mind.

Several persons appeared from a turn in the shrubbery, carrying some one on a hand-barrow--a gentleman on horseback, with a servant and many persons walking. Sir Ulick hastened towards them; the gentleman on horseback spurred his horse and met him.

"Marcus!--is it you?--thank G.o.d! But Ormond--where is he, and what has happened?"

The first sound of Marcus's voice, when he attempted to answer, showed that he was not in a condition to give a rational account of any thing.

His servant followed, also much intoxicated. While Sir Ulick had been stopped by their ineffectual attempts to explain, the people who were carrying the man on the hand-barrow came up. Ormond appeared from the midst of them. "Carry him on to the gardener's house," cried he, pointing the way, and coming forward to Sir Ulick. "If he dies, I am a murderer!" cried he.

"Who is he?" said Sir Ulick.

"Moriarty Carroll, please your honour," answered several voices at once.

"And how happened it?" said Sir Ulick.

"The long and the short of it, sir," said Marcus, as well as he could articulate, "the fellow was insolent, and we cut him down--and if it were to do again, I'd do it again with pleasure."

"No, no! you won't say so, Marcus, when you are yourself," said Ormond.

"Oh! how dreadful to come to one's senses all at once, as I did--the moment after I had fired that fatal shot--the moment I saw the poor fellow stagger and fall--"

"It was you, then, that fired at him," interrupted Sir Ulick.

"Yes, oh! yes!" said he, striking his forehead: "I did it in the fury of pa.s.sion."

Then Ormond, taking all the blame upon himself, and stating what had pa.s.sed in the strongest light against himself, gave this account of the matter. After having drunk too much at Mr. Cornelius O'Shane's, they were returning from the Black Islands, and afraid of being late, they were galloping hard, when at a narrow part of the road they were stopped by some cars. Impatient of the delay, they abused the men who were driving them, insisting upon their getting out of the way faster than they could. Moriarty Carroll made some answer, which Marcus said was insolent; and inquiring the man's name, and hearing it was Carroll, said all the Carrolls were bad people--rebels. Moriarty defied him to prove _that_--and added some expressions about tyranny, which enraged Ormond.

This part of the provocation Ormond did not state, but merely said he was thrown into a pa.s.sion by some observation of Moriarty's; and first he lifted his whip to give the fellow a horsewhipping. Moriarty seized hold of the whip, and struggled to wrest it from his hand; Ormond then s.n.a.t.c.hed a pistol from his holster, telling Moriarty he would shoot him, if he did not let the whip go. Moriarty, who was in a pa.s.sion himself, struggled, still holding the whip. Ormond c.o.c.ked the pistol, and before he was aware he had done so, the pistol accidentally went off--the ball entered Moriarty's breast. This happened within a quarter of a mile of Castle Hermitage. The poor fellow bled profusely; and, in a.s.sisting to lift him upon the hand-barrow, Ormond was covered with blood, as has been already described.