"Thank you, my lord, for the five minutes; it will be time enough. I purpose leaving Grey Abbey to-morrow, and I shall probably be in France in three days' time. When there, I trust I shall cease to trouble you; but I cannot, indeed I will not go, without funds to last me till I can make some arrangement. Your lordship must give me five hundred pounds.

I have not the means even of carrying myself from hence to Calais."

"Not one penny. Not one penny--if it were to save you from the gaol to-morrow! This is too bad!" and the earl again walked to the door, against which Lord Kilcullen leaned his back. "By Heaven, sir, I'll raise the house if you think to frighten me by violence!"

"I'll use no violence, but you must hear the alternative: if you please it, the whole house shall hear it too. If you persist in refusing the small sum I now ask--"

"I will not give you one penny to save you from gaol. Is that plain?"

"Perfectly plain, and very easy to believe. But you will give more than a penny; you would even give more than I ask, to save yourself from the annoyance you will have to undergo."

"Not on any account will I give you one single farthing."

"Very well. Then I have only to tell you what I must do. Of course, I shall remain here. You cannot turn me out of your house, or refuse me a seat at your table."

"By Heavens, though, I both can and will!"

"You cannot, my lord. If you think of it, you'll find you cannot, without much disagreeable trouble. An eldest son would be a very difficult tenant to eject summarily: and of my own accord I will not go without the money I ask."

"By heavens, this exceeds all I ever heard. Would you rob your own father?"

"I will not rob him, but I'll remain in his house. The sheriff's officers, doubtless, will hang about the doors, and be rather troublesome before the windows; but I shall not be the first Irish gentleman that has remained at home upon his keeping. And, like other Irish gentlemen, I will do so rather than fall into the hands of these myrmidons. I have no wish to annoy you; I shall be most sorry to do so; most sorry to subject my mother to the misery which must attend the continual attempts which will be made to arrest me; but I will not put my head into the lion's jaw."

"This is the return for what I have done for him!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the earl, in his misery. "Unfortunate reprobate! unfortunate reprobate!--that I should be driven to wish that he was in gaol!"

"Your wishing so won't put me there, my lord. If it would I should not be weak enough to ask you for this money. Do you mean to comply with my request?"

"I do not, sir: not a penny shall you have--not one farthing more shall you get from me."

"Then good night, my lord. I grieve that I should have to undergo a siege in your lordship's house, more especially as it is likely to be a long one. In a week's time there will be a '_ne exeat_' [48] issued against me, and then it will be too late for me to think of France."

And so saying, the son retired to his own room, and left the father to consider what he had better do in his distress.

[FOOTNOTE 48: ne exeat--(Latin) "let him not leave"; a legal writ forbidding a person to leave the jurisdiction of the court]

Lord Cashel was dreadfully embarra.s.sed. What Lord Kilcullen said was perfectly true; an eldest son was a most difficult tenant to eject; and then, the ignominy of having his heir arrested in his own house, or detained there by bailiffs lurking round the premises! He could not determine whether it would be more painful to keep his son, or to give him up. If he did the latter, he would be driven to effect it by a most disagreeable process. He would have to a.s.sist the officers of the law in their duty, and to authorise them to force the doors locked by his son. The prospect, either way, was horrid. He would willingly give the five hundred pounds to be rid of his heir, were it not for his word's sake, or rather his pride's sake. He had said he would not, and, as he walked up and down the room he b.u.t.toned up his breeches pocket, and tried to resolve that, come what come might, he would not expedite his son's departure by the outlay of one shilling.

The candles had been put out, and the gloom of the room was only lightened by a single bed-room taper, which, as it stood near the door, only served to render palpable the darkness of the further end of the chamber. For half an hour Lord Cashel walked to and fro, anxious, wretched, and in doubt, instead of going to his room. How he wished that Lord Ballindine had married his ward, and taken her off six months since!--all this trouble would not then have come upon him. And as he thought of the thirty thousand pounds that he had spent, and the thirty thousand more that he must spend, he hurried on with such rapidity that in the darkness he struck his shin violently against some heavy piece of furniture, and, limping back to the candlestick, swore through his teeth--"No, not a penny, were it to save him from perdition! I'll see the sheriff's officer. I'll see the sheriff himself, and tell him that every door in the house--every closet--every cellar, shall be open to him. My house shall enable no one to defy the law." And, with this n.o.ble resolve, to which, by the bye, the blow on his shin greatly contributed, Lord Cashel went to bed, and the house was at rest.

About nine o'clock on the following morning Lord Kilcullen was still in bed, but awake. His servant had been ordered to bring him hot water, and he was seriously thinking of getting up, and facing the troubles of the day, when a very timid knock at the door announced to him that some stranger was approaching. He adjusted his nightcap, brought the bed-clothes up close to his neck, and on giving the usual answer to a knock at the door, saw a large cap introduce itself, the head belonging to which seemed afraid to follow.

"Who's that?" he called out.

"It's me, my lord," said the head, gradually following the cap.

"Griffiths, my lord."

"Well?"

"Lady Selina, my lord; her ladyship bids me give your lordship her love, and would you see her ladyship for five minutes before you get up?"

Lord Kilcullen having a.s.sented to this proposal, the cap and head retired. A second knock at the door was soon given, and Lady Selina entered the room, with a little bit of paper in her hand.

"Good morning, Adolphus," said the sister.

"Good morning, Selina," said the brother. "It must be something very particular, which brings you here at this hour."

"It is indeed, something very particular. I have been with papa this morning, Adolphus: he has told me of the interview between you last night."

"Well."

"Oh, Adolphus! he is very angry--he's--"

"So am I, Selina. I am very angry, too;--so we're quits. We laid a plan together, and we both failed, and each blames the other; so you need not tell me anything further about his anger. Did he send any message to me?"

"He did. He told me I might give you this, if I would undertake that you left Grey Abbey to-day:" and Lady Selina held up, but did not give him, the bit of paper.

"What a dolt he is."

"Oh, Adolphus!" said Selina, "don't speak so of your father."

"So he is: how on earth can you undertake that I shall leave the house?"

"I can ask you to give me your word that you will do so; and I can take back the check if you refuse," said Lady Selina, conceiving it utterly impossible that one of her own family could break his word.

"Well, Selina, I'll answer you fairly. If that bit of paper is a cheque for five hundred pounds, I will leave this place in two hours. If it is not--"

"It is," said Selina. "It is a cheque for five hundred pounds, and I may then give it to you?"

"I thought as much," said Lord Kilcullen; "I thought he'd alter his mind. Yes, you may give it me, and tell my father I'll dine in London to-morrow evening."

"He says, Adolphus, he'll not see you before you go."

"Well, there's comfort in that, anyhow."

"Oh, Adolphus! how can you speak in that manner now?--how can you speak in that wicked, thoughtless, reckless manner?" said his sister.

"Because I'm a wicked, thoughtless, reckless man, I suppose. I didn't mean to vex you, Selina; but my father is so pompous, so absurd, and so tedious. In the whole of this affair I have endeavoured to do exactly as he would have me; and he is more angry with me now, because his plan has failed, than he ever was before, for any of my past misdoings.--But let me get up now, there's a good girl; for I've no time to lose."

"Will you see your mother before you go, Adolphus?"

"Why, no; it'll be no use--only tormenting her. Tell her something, you know; anything that won't vex her."

"But I cannot tell her anything about you that will not vex her."

"Well, then, say what will vex her least. Tell her--tell her. Oh, you know what to tell her, and I'm sure I don't."

"And f.a.n.n.y: will you see her again?"

"No," said Kilcullen. "I have bid her good bye. But give her my kindest love, and tell her that I did what I told her I would do."

"She told me what took place between you yesterday."