"This is the 24th, if I remember aright," said Darcy, looking up at the dial; "at noon, to-day, we are no longer masters here."

"The Hickmans will scarcely venture to push matters to such extremities; an a.s.surance that we are willing to surrender peaceable possession will, I trust, be sufficient to prevent the indecency of a rapid flight from our own house and home."

"There are legal forms of possession to be gone through, I believe,"

said the Knight, sorrowfully; "certain observances the law exacts, which would be no less painful for us to witness than the actual presence of our successors."

"Who can this be? I saw a carriage disappear behind the copse yonder.

There it is again, coming along by the lake."

"Daly--Bagenal Daly, I hope and trust!" exclaimed Darcy, as he stood straining his eyes to catch the moving object.

"I think not; the horses do not look like posters. Heaven grant we have no visitors at such a time as this!"

The carriage, although clearly visible the moment before, was now concealed from view by an angle of the wood, nor would it again be in sight before reaching the abbey.

"Your mother's indisposition is reason sufficient not to receive them,"

said Darcy, almost sternly. "I would not continue the part I have played during the last week, no, not for an hour longer, to be a.s.sured of rescue from every difficulty. The duplicity went nigh to break my heart; ay, and it would have done so, or driven me mad, had the effort been sustained any further."

"You did not expect any one, did you?" asked Lionel, eagerly.

"Not one; there's a ma.s.s of letters, with invitations and civil messages, there on the table, but no proffered visits among them."

Lionel walked to the table and turned over the various notes which lay along with newspapers and pamphlets scattered about.

"Ay," muttered the Knight, in a low tone, "they read strangely now, these plans of pleasure and festivity, when ruin is so near us; the kind pressings to spend a week here, and a fortnight there. It reminds me, Lionel,"--and here a smile of sad but sweet melancholy pa.s.sed across his features,--"it reminds me of the old story they tell of my grand-uncle Robert. He commanded the 'Dreadnought,' under Drake, at Cape St.

Vincent, and at the close of a very sharp action was signalled to come on board the admiral's vessel to dinner. The poor 'Dreadnought' was like a sieve, the sea running in and out through her shot-holes, and her sails hanging like rags around her, her deck covered with wounded, and slippery with gore. Captain Darcy, however, hastened to obey the command of his superior, changed his dress and ordered his boat to be manned; but this was no easy matter, there was scarcely a boat's crew to be had without taking away the men necessary to work the ship. The difficulty soon became more pressing, for a plank had suddenly sprung from a double-headed shot, and all the efforts of the pumps could not keep the vessel afloat, with a heavy sea rolling at the same time.

"'The admiral's signal is repeated, sir,' said the lieutenant on duty.

"'Very well, Mr. Hay; keep her before the wind,' was the answer.

"'The ship is settling fast, sir,' said the master; 'no boat could live in that sea; they 're all damaged by shot.'

"'Signal the flag-ship,' cried out Darcy; 'signal the admiral that I am ready to obey him, but we 're sinking.'

"The bunting floated at the mast-head for a moment or two, but the waves were soon many fathoms over it, and the 'Dreadnought' was never seen more."

"So it would seem," said Lionel, with a half-bitter laugh, "we are not the first of the family who went down head foremost. But I hear a voice without. Surely old Tate is not fool enough to admit any one."

"Is it possible--" But before the Knight could finish, the old butler entered to announce Mr. Hickman O'Reilly. Advancing towards the Knight with a most cordial air, he seemed bent on antic.i.p.ating any possible expression of displeasure at his unexpected appearance.

"I am aware, Knight," said he, in an accent the most soft and conciliating, "how indelicate a visit from me at such a moment may seem; but if you accord me a few moments of private interview, I hope to dispel the unpleasant impression." He looked towards Lionel as he spoke, and though he smiled his blandest of all smiles, evidently hinted at the possibility of his leaving them alone together.

"I have no confidences apart from my son, sir," said Darcy, coldly.

"Oh, of course not--perfectly natural at Captain Darcy's age--such a thought would be absurd; still, there are circ.u.mstances which might possibly excuse my request--I mean--"

Lionel did not suffer him to finish the sentence, but, turning abruptly round, left the room, saying as he went, "I have some orders to give in the stable, but I'll not go further away if you want me."

"Now, sir," said the Knight, haughtily, "we are alone, and not likely to be interrupted; may I ask, as a great favor, that in any communication you may have to make, you will be as brief as consists with your object; for, to say truth, I have many things on my mind, and many important calls to attend to."

"In the first place, then," said Hickman, a.s.suming a manner intended to convey the impression of perfect frankness and candor, "let me make a confession, which, however humiliating to avow, would be still more injurious to hold in reserve. I have neither act nor part in the proceedings my father has lately taken respecting your mutual dealings.

Not only that he has not consulted me, but every attempt on my part to ascertain the course of events, or mitigate their rigor, has been met by a direct, not unfrequently a rude, repulse." He waited at this pause for the Knight to speak, but a cold and dignified bow was all the acknowledgment returned. "This may appear strange and inexplicable in your eyes," said O'Reilly, who mistook the Knight's indifference for incredulity, "but perhaps I can explain."

"There is not the slightest necessity to do so, Mr. O'Reilly; I have no reason to doubt one word you have stated; for not only am I ignorant of what the nature and extent of the proceedings you allude to may be, but I am equally indifferent as to the spirit that dictates or the number of advisers that suggest them; pardon me if I seem rude or uncourteous, but there are circ.u.mstances in life in which not to be selfish would be to become insensible; my present condition is, perhaps, one of them. A breach of trust on the part of one who possessed my fullest confidence has involved all, or nearly all, I had in the world. The steps by which I am to be deprived of what was once my own are, as regards myself, matters of comparative indifference; with respect to others"--here he almost faltered--"I hope they may be dictated by proper feeling and consideration."

"Be a.s.sured they shall, sir," said Mr. O'Reilly; and then, as if correcting a too hasty avowal, added, "but I have the strongest hopes that the matters are not yet in such an extremity as you speak of. It is true, sir, I will not conceal from you, my father is not free from the faults of age; his pa.s.sion for money-getting has absorbed his whole heart, to the exclusion of many amiable and estimable traits; to enforce a legal right with him seems a duty, and not an option; and I may mention here that your friend, Mr. Daly, has not taken any particular pains towards conciliating him; indeed, he has scarcely acted a prudent part as regards you, by the unceasing rancor he has exhibited towards our family."

"I must interrupt you, sir," said the Knight, "and a.s.sure you that, while there are unfortunately but too many topics which could pain me at this moment, there is not one more certain to offend me than any reflection, even the slightest, on the oldest friend I have in the world."

Mr. O'Reilly denied the most remote intention of giving pain, and proceeded. "I was speaking of my father," said he, "and however unpleasant the confession from a son's lips, I must say that the legality of his acts is the extent to which they claim his observance.

When his solicitors informed him that the interest was unpaid on your bond, he directed the steps to enforce the payment, and subsequently to foreclose the deed. These are, after all, mere preliminary proceedings, and in no way preclude an arrangement for a renewal."

"Such a proposition--let me interrupt you--such a proposition is wholly out of the question; the ruin that has cost us our house and home has spared nothing. I have no means by which I could antic.i.p.ate the payment of so large a sum, nor is it either my intention or my wish to reside longer beneath this roof."

"I hope, sir, your determination is not unalterable; it would be the greatest affliction of my life to think that the loss to this county of its oldest family was even in the remotest degree ascribed to us. The Darcys have been the boast and pride of western Ireland for centuries; our county would be robbed of its fairest ornament by the departure of those who hold a princely state and derive a more than princely devotion among us."

"If our claims had no other foundation, Mr. O'Reilly, our altered circ.u.mstances would now obliterate them. To live here with diminished fortune--But I ask pardon for being led away in this manner; may I beg that you will now inform me to what peculiar circ.u.mstances I owe the honor of your visit?"

"I thought," said O'Reilly, insinuatingly, "that I had mentioned the difference of feeling entertained by my father and myself respecting certain proceedings at law."

"You are quite correct, you did so; but I may observe, without incivility, that however complimentary to your own sense of delicacy such a difference is, for me the matter has no immediate interest."

"Perhaps, with your kind permission, I can give it some," replied O'Reilly, drawing his chair close, and speaking in a low and confidential voice; "but in order to let my communication have the value I would wish it, may I bespeak for myself a favorable hearing and a kind construction on what I shall say? If by an error of judgment--"

"Ah!" said Darcy, sighing, while a sad smile dimpled his mouth--"ah! no man should be more lenient to such than myself."

As if rea.s.sured by the kindly tone of these few words, O'Reilly resumed:--

"Some weeks ago my father waited upon Lady Eleanor Darcy with a proposition which, whether on its own merits, or from want of proper tact in his advocacy of it, met with a most unfavorable reception. It is not because circ.u.mstances have greatly altered in that brief interval--which I deeply regret to say is the case--that I dare to augur a more propitious hearing, but simply because I hope to show that in making it we were actuated by a spirit of honorable, if not of laudable, ambition. The rank and position my son will enjoy in this county, his fortune and estate, are such as to make any alliance, save with your family, a question of no possible pretension. I am well aware, sir, of the great disparity between a new house and one enn.o.bled by centuries of descent. I have thought long and deeply on the interval that separates the rank of the mere country gentleman from the position of him who claims even higher station than n.o.bility itself; but we live in changeful times: the Peerage has its daily accessions of rank as humble as my own; its new creations are the conscripts drawn from wealth as well as distinction in arms or learning, and in every case the new generation obliterates the memory of its immediate origin. I see you agree with me; I rejoice to find it."

"Your observations are quite just," said Darcy, calmly, and O'Reilly went on:--

"Now, sir, I would not only reiterate my father's proposal, but I would add to it what I hope and trust will be deemed no ungenerous offer, which is, that the young lady's fortune should be this estate of Gwynne Abbey, not to be endowed by her future husband, but settled on her by her father as her marriage portion. I see your meaning,--it is no longer his to give: but we are ready to make it so; the bond we hold shall be thrown into the fire the moment your consent is uttered. We prefer a thousand times it should be thus, than that the ancient acres of this n.o.ble heritage should even for a moment cease to be the property of your house. Let me recapitulate a little--"

"I think that is unnecessary," said Darcy, calmly; "I have bestowed the most patient attention to your remarks, and have no difficulty in comprehending them. Have you anything to add?"

"Nothing of much consequence," said O'Reilly, not a little pleased by the favorable tone of the Knight's manner; "what I should suggest in addition is that my son should a.s.sume the name and arms of Darcy--"

The noise of footsteps and voices without at this moment interrupted the speaker, the door suddenly opened, and Bagenal Daly entered. He was splashed from head to foot, his high riding-boots stained with the saddle and the road, and his appearance vouching for a long and wearisome journey.

"Good morrow, Darcy," said he, grasping the Knight's hand with the grip of his iron fingers.--"Your servant, sir; I scarcely expected to see you here _so soon_."

The emphasis with which he spoke the last words brought the color to O'Reilly's cheek, who seemed very miserable at the interruption.

"You came to take possession," continued Daly, fixing his eyes on him with a steadfast stare.

"You mistake, Bagenal," said the Knight, gently; "Mr. O'Reilly is come with a very different object,--one which I trust he will deem it no breach of confidence or propriety in me if I mention it to you."