The priest positively refused to take anything. 'They are the best couple in my parish,' said he; 'and I'll take nothing, sir, from you, a stranger and my guest.'

'Now, come what will, I'm a match for it. No trouble can touch me,' said Brian.

'Oh, don't be bragging,' said the widow.

'Whatever trouble G.o.d sends, He has given one now will help to bear it, and sure I may be thankful,' said Grace.

'Such good hearts must be happy--shall be happy!' said Lord Colambre.

'Oh, you're very kind,' said the widow, smiling; 'and I wouldn't doubt you, if you had the power. I hope, then, the agent will give you encouragement about them mines, that we may keep you among us.'

'I am determined to settle among you, warm-hearted, generous people!'

cried Lord Colambre, 'whether the agent gives me encouragement or not,'

added he.

It was a long walk to Clonbrony Castle; the old woman, as she said herself, would not have been able for it, but for a LIFT given to her by a friendly carman, whom they met on the road with an empty car. This carman was Finnucan, who dissipated Lord Colambre's fears of meeting and being recognised by Mrs. Raffarty; for he, in answer to the question of, 'Who is at the castle?' replied, 'Mrs. Raffarty will be in it afore night; but she's on the road still. There's none but old Nick in it yet; and he's more of a NEGER than ever; for think, that he would not pay me a farthing for the carriage of his SHISTER'S boxes and bandboxes down.

If you're going to have any dealings with him, G.o.d grant ye a safe deliverance!'

'Amen!' said the widow, and her son and daughter.

Lord Colambre's attention was now engaged by the view of the castle and park of Clonbrony. He had not seen it since he was six years old. Some faint reminiscence from his childhood made him feel or fancy that he knew the place. It was a fine castle, s.p.a.cious park; but all about it, from the broken piers at the great entrance, to the messy gravel and loose steps at the hall-door, had an air of desertion and melancholy.

Walks overgrown, shrubberies wild, plantations run up into bare poles; fine trees cut down, and lying on the gravel in lots to be sold. A hill that had been covered with an oak wood, in which, in his childhood, our hero used to play, and which he called the black forest, was gone; nothing to be seen but the white stumps of the trees, for it had been freshly cut down, to make up the last remittances.--'And how it went, when sold!--but no matter,' said Finnucan; 'it's all alike.--It's the back way into the yard, I'll take you, I suppose.'

And such a yard! 'But it's no matter,' repeated Lord Colambre to himself; 'it's all alike.'

In the kitchen a great dinner was dressing for Mr. Garraghty's friends, who were to make merry with him when the business of the day was over.

'Where's the keys of the cellar, till I get out the claret for after dinner,' says one; 'and the wine for the cook--sure there's venison,'

cries another.--'Venison!--That's the way my lord's deer goes,' says a third, laughing.--'ay, sure! and very proper, when he's not here to eat 'em.'--'Keep your nose out of the kitchen, young man, if you PLASE,'

said the agent's cook, shutting the door in Lord Colambre's face.

'There's the way to the office, if you've money to pay, up the back stairs.'

'No; up the grand staircase they must--Mr. Garraghty ordered,' said the footman; 'because the office is damp for him, and it's not there he'll see anybody to-day; but in my lady's dressing-room.'

So up the grand staircase they went, and through the magnificent apartments, hung with pictures of great value, spoiling with damp.

'Then, isn't it a pity to see them? There's my lady, and all spoiling,'

said the widow.

Lord Colambre stopped before a portrait of Miss Nugent.--'Shamefully damaged!' cried he. 'Pa.s.s on, or let me pa.s.s, if you PLASE,' said one of the tenants; 'and don't be stopping the doorway.' 'I have business more nor you with the agent,' said the surveyor; 'where is he?'

'In the PRESENCE-CHAMBER,' replied another; 'where should the viceroy be but in the PRESENCE-CHAMBER?'

There was a full levee, and fine smell of greatcoats. 'Oh! would you put your hats on the silk cushions?' said the widow to some men in the doorway, who were throwing off their greasy hats on a damask sofa.--'Why not? where else?' 'If the lady was in it, you wouldn't,' said she, sighing.--'No, to be sure, I wouldn't; great news! would I make no DIFFER in the presence of old Nick and my lady?' said he, in Irish.

'Have I no sense or manners, good woman, think ye?' added he, as he shook the ink out of his pen on the Wilton carpet, when he had finished signing his name to a paper on his knee. 'You may wait long before you get to the speech of the great man,' said another, who was working his way through numbers. They continued pushing forward, till they came within sight of Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, seated in state; and a worse countenance, or a more perfect picture of an insolent, petty tyrant in office, Lord Colambre had never beheld.

We forbear all further detail of this levee. 'It's all the same!' as Lord Colambre repeated to himself, on every fresh instance of roguery or oppression to which he was witness; and, having completely made up his mind on the subject, he sat down quietly in the background, waiting till it should come to the widow's turn to be dealt with, for he was now interested only to see how she would be treated. The room gradually thinned; Mr. Dennis Garraghty came in, and sat down at the table, to help his brother to count the heaps of gold.

'Oh, Mr. Dennis, I'm glad to see you as kind as your promise, meeting me here,' said the widow O'Neill, walking up to him; 'I'm sure you'll speak a good word for me; here's the LASES--who will I offer this to?' said she, holding the GLOVE-MONEY and SEALING-MONEY,--'for I'm strange and ashamed.'

'Oh, don't be ashamed--there's no strangeness in bringing money or taking it,' said Mr. Nicholas Garraghty, holding out his hand. 'Is this the proper compliment?'

'I hope so, sir; your honour knows best.'

'Very well,' slipping it into his private purse. 'Now, what's your business?'

'The LASES to sign--the rent's all paid up.'

'Leases! Why, woman, is the possession given up?'

'It was, PLASE your honour; and Mr. Dennis has the key of our little place in his pocket.'

'Then I hope he'll keep it there. YOUR little place--it's no longer yours; I've promised it to the surveyor. You don't think I'm such a fool as to renew to you at this rent.'

'Mr. Dennis named the rent. But anything your honour PLASES--anything at all that we can pay.'

'Oh, it's out of the question--put it out of your head. No rent you can offer would do, for I've promised it to the surveyor.'

'Sir, Mr. Dennis knows my lord gave us his promise in writing of a renewal, on the back of the OULD LASE.'

'Produce it.'

'Here's the LASE, but the promise is rubbed out.'

'Nonsense! coming to me with a promise that's rubbed out. Who'll listen to that in a court of justice, do you think?'

'I don't know, plase your honour; but this I'm sure of, my lord and Miss Nugent, though but a child at the time, G.o.d bless her! who was by when my lord wrote it with his pencil, will remember it.'

'Miss Nugent! what can she know of business?--What has she to do with the management of my Lord Clonbrony's estate, pray?'

'Management!--no, sir.'

'Do you wish to get Miss Nugent turned out of the house?'

'Oh, G.o.d forbid!--how could that be?'

'Very easily; if you set about to make her meddle and witness in what my lord does not choose.'

'Well then, I'll never mention Miss Nugent's name in it at all, if it was ever so with me. But be PLASED, sir, to write over to my lord, and ask him; I'm sure he'll remember it.'

'Write to my lord about such a trifle--trouble him about such nonsense!'

'I'd be sorry to trouble him. Then take it on my word, and believe me, sir; for I would not tell a lie, nor cheat rich or poor, if in my power, for the whole estate, nor the whole world: for there's an eye above.'

'Cant! nonsense!--Take those leases off the table; I never will sign them. Walk off; ye canting hag; it's an imposition--I will never sign them.'

'You WILL then, sir,' cried Brian, growing red with indignation; 'for the law shall make you, so it shall; and you'd as good have been civil to my mother, whatever you did--for I'll stand by her while I've life; and I know she has right, and shall have law. I saw the memorandum written before ever it went into your hands, sir, whatever became of it after; and will swear to it, too.'

'Swear away, my good friend; much your swearing will avail in your own case in a court of justice,' continued old Nick.