"But she couldn't have taken your sister away, unless she had wished to go."

"Of course she wished it; but a silly creature like her can't be let to do all she wishes.. She wishes to get a husband, and doesn't care what sort of a one she gets; but you don't suppose an old maid--forty years old, who has always been too stupid and foolish ever to be seen or spoken to, should be allowed to throw away four hundred a-year, on the first robber that tries to cheat her? You don't mean to say there isn't a law to prevent that?"

"I don't know how you'll prevent it, Mr Lynch. She's her own mistress."

"What the d----l! Do you mean to say there's nothing to prevent an idiot like that from marrying?"

"If she _was_ an idiot! But I think you'll find your sister has sense enough to marry whom she pleases."

"I tell you she _is_ an idiot; not raving, mind; but everybody knows she was never fit to manage anything."

"Who'd prove it!"

"Why, I would. Divil a doubt of it! I could prove that she never could, all her life."

"Ah, my dear Sir! you couldn't do it; nor could I advise you to try--that is, unless there were plenty more who could swear positively that she was out of her mind. Would the servants swear that? Could you yourself, now, positively swear that she was out of her mind?"

"Why--she never had any mind to be out of."

"Unless you are very sure she is, and, for a considerable time back, has been, a confirmed lunatic, you'd be very wrong--very ill-advised, I mean, Mr Lynch, to try that game at all. Things would come out which you wouldn't like; and your motives would be--would be--" seen through at once, the attorney was on the point of saying, but he stopped himself, and finished by the words "called in question".

"And I'm to sit here, then, and see that young blackguard Kelly, run off with what ought to be my own, and my sister into the bargain? I'm blessed if I do! If you can't put me in the way of stopping it, I'll find those that can."

"You're getting too much in a hurry, Mr Lynch. Is your sister at the inn now?"

"To be sure she is."

"And she is engaged to this young man?"

"She is."

"Why, then, she might be married to him to-morrow, for anything you know."

"She might, if he was here. But they tell me he's away, in Dublin."

"If they told you so to-day, they told you wrong: he came into Dunmore, from Tuam, on the same car with myself, this very afternoon."

"What, Martin Kelly? Then he'll be off with her this night, while we're sitting here!" and Barry jumped up, as if to rush out, and prevent the immediate consummation of his worst fears.

"Stop a moment, Mr Lynch," said the more prudent and more sober lawyer.

"If they were off, you couldn't follow them; and, if you did follow and find them, you couldn't prevent their being married, if such were their wish, and they had a priest ready to do it. Take my advice; remain quiet where you are, and let's talk the matter over. As for taking out a commission 'de lunatico', as we call it, you'll find you couldn't do it. Miss Lynch may be a little weak or so in the upper story, but she's not a lunatic; and you couldn't make her so, if you had half Dunmore to back you, because she'd be brought before the Commissioners herself, and that, you know, would soon settle the question. But you might still prevent the marriage, for a time, at any rate--at least, I think so; and, after that, you must trust to the chapter of accidents."

"So help me, that's all I want! If I got her once up here again, and was sure the thing was off, for a month or so, let me alone, then, for bringing her to reason!"

As Daly watched his comrade's reddening face, and saw the malicious gleam of his eyes as he declared how easily he'd manage the affair, if poor Anty was once more in the house, his heart misgave him, even though he was a sharp attorney, at the idea of a.s.sisting such a cruel brute in his cruelty; and, for a moment, he had determined to throw up the matter. Barry was so unprincipled, and so wickedly malicious in his want of principle, that he disgusted even Daly. But, on second thoughts, the lawyer remembered that if he didn't do the job, another would; and, quieting his not very violent qualms of conscience with the idea that, though employed by the brother, he might also, to a certain extent, protect the sister, he proceeded to give his advice as to the course which would be most likely to keep the property out of the hands of the Kellys.

He explained to Barry that, as Anty had left her own home in company with Martin's mother, and as she now was a guest at the widow's, it was unlikely that any immediate clandestine marriage should be resorted to; that their most likely course would be to brazen the matter out, and have the wedding solemnised without any secrecy, and without any especial notice to him, Barry. That, on the next morning, a legal notice should be prepared in Tuam, and served on the widow, informing her that it was his intention to indict her for conspiracy, in enticing away from her own home his sister Anty, for the purpose of obtaining possession of her property, she being of weak mind, and not able properly to manage her own affairs; that a copy of this notice should also be sent to Martin, warning him that he would be included in the indictment if he took any proceedings with regard to Miss Lynch; and that a further copy should, if possible, be put into the hands of Miss Lynch herself.

"You may be sure that'll frighten them," continued Daly; "and then, you know, when we see what sort of fight they make, we'll be able to judge whether we ought to go on and prosecute or not. I think the widow'll be very shy of meddling, when she finds you're in earnest. And you see, Mr Lynch," he went on, dropping his voice, "if you _do_ go into court, as I don't think you will, you'll go with clean hands, as you ought to do.

n.o.body can say anything against you for trying to prevent your sister from marrying a man so much younger than herself, and so much inferior in station and fortune; you won't seem to gain anything by it, and that's everything with a jury; and then, you know, if it comes out that Miss Lynch's mind is rather touched, it's an additional reason why you should protect her from intriguing and interested schemers. Don't you see?"

Barry did see, or fancied he saw, that he had now got the Kellys in a dead fix, and Anty back into his own hands again; and his self-confidence having been fully roused by his potations, he was tolerably happy, and talked very loudly of the manner in which he would punish those low-bred huxters, who had presumed to interfere with him in the management of his family.

Towards the latter end of the evening, he became even more confidential, and showed the cloven foot, if possible, more undisguisedly than he had hitherto done. He spoke of the impossibility of allowing four hundred a year to be carried off from him, and suggested to Daly that his sister would soon drop off,--that there would then be a nice thing left, and that he, Daly, should have the agency, and if he pleased, the use of Dunmore House. As for himself, he had no idea of mewing himself up in such a hole as that; but, before he went, he'd take care to drive that villain, Moylan, out of the place.

"The cursed villany of those Kellys, to go and palm such a robber as that off on his sister, by way of an agent!"

To all this, Daly paid but little attention, for he saw that his host was drunk. But when Moylan's name was mentioned, he began to think that it might be as well either to include him in the threatened indictment, or else, which would be better still, to buy him over to their side, as they might probably learn from him what Martin's plans really were.

Barry was, however, too tipsy to pay much attention to this, or to understand any deep-laid plans. So the two retired to their beds, Barry determined, as he declared to the attorney in his drunken friendship, to have it out of Anty, when he caught her; and Daly promising to go to Tuam early in the morning, have the notices prepared and served, and come back in the evening to dine and sleep, and have, if possible, an interview with Mr Moylan. As he undressed, he reflected that, during his short professional career, he had been thrown into the society of many unmitigated rogues of every description; but that his new friend, Barry Lynch, though he might not equal them in energy of villany and courage to do serious evil, beat them all hollow in selfishness, and utter brutal want of feeling, conscience, and principle.

X. DOT BLAKE'S ADVICE

In hour or two after Martin Kelly had left Porto Bello in the Ballinasloe fly-boat, our other hero, Lord Ballindine, and his friend Dot Blake, started from Morrison's hotel, with post horses, for Handicap Lodge; and, as they travelled in Blake's very comfortable barouche, they reached their destination in time for a late dinner, without either adventure or discomfort. Here they remained for some days, fully occupied with the education of their horses, the attention necessary to the engagements for which they were to run, and with their betting-books.

Lord Ballindine's horse, Brien Boru, was destined to give the Saxons a dressing at Epsom, and put no one knows how many thousands into his owner's hands, by winning the Derby; and arrangements had already been made for sending him over to John Scott, the English trainer, at an expense, which, if the horse should by chance fail to be successful, would be of very serious consequence to his lordship. But Lord Ballindine had made up his mind, or rather, Blake had made it up for him, and the thing was to be done; the risk was to be run, and the preparations--the sweats and the gallops, the physicking, feeding, and coddling, kept Frank tolerably well employed; though the whole process would have gone on quite as well, had he been absent.

It was not so, however, with Dot Blake. The turf, to him, was not an expensive pleasure, but a very serious business, and one which, to give him his due, he well understood. He himself, regulated the work, both of his horses and his men, and saw that both did what was allotted to them. He took very good care that he was never charged a guinea, where a guinea was not necessary; and that he got a guinea's worth for every guinea he laid out. In fact, he trained his own horses, and was thus able to a.s.sure himself that his interests were never made subservient to those of others who kept horses in the same stables. Dot was in his glory, and in his element on the Curragh, and he was never quite happy anywhere else.

This, however, was not the case with his companion. For a couple of days the excitement attending Brien Boru was sufficient to fill Lord Ballindine's mind; but after that, he could not help recurring to other things. He was much in want of money, and had been civilly told by his agent's managing clerk, before he left town, that there was some difficulty in the way of his immediately getting the sum required. This annoyed him, for he could not carry on the game without money. And then, again, he was unhappy to be so near f.a.n.n.y Wyndham, from day to day, without seeing her. He was truly and earnestly attached to her, and miserable at the threat which had been all but made by her guardian, that the match should be broken off.

It was true that he had made up his mind not to go to Grey Abbey, as long as he remained at Handicap Lodge, and, having made the resolution, he thought he was wise in keeping it; but still, he continually felt that she must be aware that he was in the neighbourhood, and could not but be hurt at his apparent indifference. And then he knew that her guardian would make use of his present employment--his sojourn at such a den of sporting characters as his friend Blake's habitation--and his continued absence from Grey Abbey though known to be in its vicinity, as additional arguments for inducing his ward to declare the engagement at an end.

These troubles annoyed him, and though he daily stood by and saw Brien Boru go through his manoeuvres, he was discontented and fidgety.

He had been at Handicap Lodge about a fortnight, and was beginning to feel anything but happy. His horse was to go over in another week, money was not plentiful with him, and tradesmen were becoming obdurate and persevering. His host, Blake, was not a soothing or a comfortable friend, under these circ.u.mstances: he gave him a good deal of practical advice, but he could not sympathise with him. Blake was a sharp, hard, sensible man, who reduced everything to pounds shillings and pence.

Lord Ballindine was a man of feeling, and for the time, at least, a man of pleasure; and, though they were, or thought themselves friends, they did not pull well together; in fact, they bored each other terribly.

One morning, Lord Ballindine was riding out from the training-ground, when he met, if not an old, at any rate an intimate acquaintance, named Tierney. Mr or, as he was commonly called, Mat Tierney, was a bachelor, about sixty years of age, who usually inhabited a lodge near the Curragh; and who kept a horse or two on the turf, more for the sake of the standing which it gave him in the society he liked best, than from any intense love of the sport. He was a fat, jolly fellow, always laughing, and usually in a good humour; he was very fond of what he considered the world; and the world, at least that part of it which knew him, returned the compliment.

"Well, my lord," said he, after a few minutes of got-up enthusiasm respecting Brien Boru, "I congratulate you, sincerely."

"What about?" said Lord Ballindine.

"Why, I find you've got a first-rate horse, and I hear you've got rid of a first-rate lady. You're very lucky, no doubt, in both; but I think fortune has stood to you most, in the latter."

Lord Ballindine was petrified: he did not know what to reply. He was aware that his engagement with Miss Wyndham was so public that Tierney could allude to no other lady; but he could not conceive how any one could have heard that his intended marriage was broken off--at any rate how he could have heard it spoken of so publicly, as to induce him to mention it in that sort of way, to himself. His first impulse was to be very indignant; but he felt that no one would dream of quarrelling with Mat Tierney; so he said, as soon as he was able to collect his thoughts sufficiently,

"I was not aware of the second piece of luck, Mr Tierney. Pray who is the lady?"

"Why, Miss Wyndham," said Mat, himself a little astonished at Lord Ballindine's tone.

"I'm sure, Mr Tierney," said Frank, "you would say nothing, particularly in connection with a lady's name, which you intended either to be impertinent, or injurious. Were it not that I am quite certain of this, I must own that what you have just said would appear to be both."

"My dear lord," said the other, surprised and grieved, "I beg ten thousand pardons, if I have unintentionally said anything, which you feel to be either. But, surely, if I am not wrong in asking, the match between you and Miss Wyndham is broken off?"

"May I ask you, Mr Tierney, who told you so?"