"Very possibly," replied Jack, with all his accustomed ease. "I know little or nothing of Ireland. Your namesake, or your relative, perhaps, was a college friend of mine, but to what part of the country he belonged, I never knew."

The words, "a college friend," roused the other's anxiety, and leaning forward eagerly, and dropping his voice to a whisper, he said,--

"Where? In what college, may I ask, sir?"

"In Trinity, Dublin."

"The Medallist of this year, you mean?" said the other, almost breathless in his anxiety.

"Just so. The same fellow who has been sweeping away all the honors of his day. You have heard of him, it would seem?"

"He is my son, sir. I 'm Joe Nelligan's father!"

Ma.s.singbred's astonishment did not betray itself by any change of feature; not a word escaped him; but his eye ranged over the scene around him, and came back to rest upon old Nelligan's face with an expression of the calmest meaning.

"What a fortunate accident--for _me_, I mean," continued he. "Joe and I are very dear friends, and it is a great happiness for me to make his father's acquaintance. Is he with you now?" "No, sir; he's at the sea,--a place called Kilkieran, about twenty miles away; but we 'll have him back by tomorrow if you 'll stay with us, and I 'm sure you 'll not refuse me that pleasure. The young gentleman who is my son's friend, is mine also, if he 'll permit me to call him so; and now just tell me what name shall I say?--who is it that I 'm to tell Joe has arrived here?"

"Say that Jack Ma.s.singbred is come, and I 'll lay my life on't you'll see him here as fast as may be."

"And now, Mr. Ma.s.singbred, just take up your quarters with us. Where are you stopping? I 'll send over the boy for your trunks, for I need n't say that this must be your home while you stay at Oughterard." The genial tone of warm hospitality in which he now spoke made him seem a very different man from the hard-featured old money-lender he had appeared when Jack first beheld him, and Ma.s.singbred returned his cordial shake hands with a pressure equal to his own, while he said,--

"Be a.s.sured that I accept your offer most heartily. My whole baggage is a knapsack and a fishing-rod, so that if you admit me as your guest you must dispense with all beyond the very humblest requirements. I have no coat, except this on me; and, when I brush my hair, I have dressed for dinner."

"You are amongst very humble people, Mr. Ma.s.singbred,--a country shopkeeper, and his wife, and son,--and they 'll be only too happy to feel that you don't despise their company. Come, and I 'll show you your room." And so saying, Nelligan led him up a narrow stair, and at the end of a corridor opened a door into a neatly furnished chamber, which looked out into a s.p.a.cious garden. The whole interior was scrupulously clean and comfortable; and as Jack surveyed his new dominions, he inwardly blessed his good fortune that had piloted him into such a haven.

"I 'll just step down and write to Joe. Meanwhile you 'll have your things brought over to you. Make yourself at home here--at least, as much as you can in such a place--and when you want anything, just ask for it." And with these words old Nelligan left him to his own thoughts.

Whatever savored of an adventure was the delight of Jack Ma.s.singbred.

He was one of those men whose egotism takes the shape of playing hero to themselves,--a tolerably large category amongst the spoiled children of this world. To be thrown into any strange or novel position, with a.s.sociates he was unused to, and amidst circ.u.mstances totally unlike all he had ever met before, was his great happiness; and although here there was nothing like actual peril to heighten the zest of the enjoyment, there was a certain dash of embarra.s.sment in the situation that increased its piquancy. This embarra.s.sment lay in his approaching meeting with young Nelligan.

All the reserve his young college friend had maintained with regard to his family was at once explained; and Jack began to think over how often it must have occurred to him to say the most galling and offensive things in his ignorance of Nelligan's real station. "If he had been frank and open with me," said he to himself, "this would never have happened." But therein Jack made two errors, since Nelligan was in no wise bound to make such revelations, nor was Ma.s.singbred the man to distinguish himself amongst his a.s.sociates by a close friendship with the son of a country shopkeeper. He had been trained in a very different school, and taught to estimate his own station by the standard of his companionship. Indeed, he had witnessed the lenity which met his transgressions when they occurred in high company, and saw his father pay the debts he had contracted amongst t.i.tled a.s.sociates with a far more generous forgiveness than had they taken their origin with more plebeian friends. "What could have induced the man to become a Fellow-Commoner," said he, over and over; "it is such a palpable piece of presumption?" The truth was, Jack felt excessively irritated at never having even suspected his friend's pretensions, and was eager to throw the blame of a deception where none had ever been practised.

"They told me I should find everything very different here from in England, but they never hinted at anything like this." There came then another phase over his reflections, as he asked himself, "But what affair is it of mine? Nelligan never thrust himself on me, it was I that sought him. He never proposed introducing me to his family, it was I that made them out,--I, in fact, who have imposed myself upon them. If I deemed the old grocer _infra dig._, I need never have known him; but I have not felt this to be the case. He may be--indeed, Joe Nelligan's father ought to be--a very superior fellow, and at all events the whole situation is new, and must be amusing."

Such was the course of his thoughts as he arranged his clothes in the little chest of drawers, put out his few books and papers on the table, and proceeded to make himself perfectly at home and comfortable in his new quarters.

The embarra.s.sments of selfish men are always lighter than those of other people, their egotism filling, as it does, such a very large s.p.a.ce in the sea of their troubles. Thus was it that Ma.s.singbred suffered little discomfort at the thought of his friend Nelligan's probable shame and awkwardness, his thoughts being occupied by how he, clever fellow that he was, had traced out his home and origin,--won, by a few words, the old father's esteem, and established himself, by his own sharp wits, a guest of his house.

"It is a downright adventure," said he; he even thought how the thing would tell afterwards at some convivial meeting, and set about dramatizing to himself his own part in the incident, to heighten the piquancy of the narrative. He resolved to conform in everything to the habits of the household,--to accommodate himself in all respects to old Nelligan's tastes, so that Joe should actually be amazed at the versatile resources of his nature, and struck with astonishment at this new evidence of his powers.

Nor was Mr. Nelligan idle during all this time; the thought of a fellow collegian of his son Joe being a guest under his roof was a very proud and inspiring reflection. It was such a recognition of Joe's social claims,--so flat a contradiction to all the surmises of those who deprecated his college life, and said "that old Dan was wrong to put his boy into Trinity"--that he already regarded the incident as the full earnest of success.

"What would have brought him here, if it wasn't for Joe? How would he ever have been under my roof, if he wasn't Joe's friend?" There was a palpable triumph here that nothing could gainsay, and with a proud heart he locked up his desk, resolving to do no more business that day, but make it one of enjoyment.

"Who will I get to dine with us," thought he, "since Joe can't have the letter before this evening, and do his best he won't be here before morning?" The question of those who should fill the places around his board was a difficulty he had never experienced before, for Mr. Nelligan was the first man in Oughterard, and never had any trouble about his dinner company. His politics--very decided as they were--drew the line amongst his acquaintances, and the Liberal party well knew that they alone were the partakers of his hospitalities. There now, however, came the thought that the most respectable residents of the town--Dr. Dasy, of the Infirmary; Mr. Scanlan, the Attorney; and Morris Croft, the Adjutant of the Galway------were Conservatives. These were the fit company to meet young Ma.s.singbred, at least for the first day; afterwards, he might be introduced to their own set. And yet, Father Neal Rafferty would be outraged at all this. Peter Hayes, of the Priory, would never enter his doors again; and Peter Hayes had made a will in favor of Joe Nelligan, and left him every sixpence he had in the world.

"What if we mixed them all together?" said Dan, fairly puzzled by all the conflicting interests. "A good dinner, some excellent port wine, and 'lashings' of whiskey-punch, might mould the ingredients together--at least, when under the restraint of a stranger's presence--sufficiently to pa.s.s muster!"

From his doubts as to how the experiment would succeed, came others as to whether the guests would condescend to meet; and thus his embarra.s.sments went on increasing around him without his finding a way through them.

"That's an elegant salmon I saw Catty bringing home to you, Nelligan?"

said a red-faced man, with large white whiskers, and a most watery look in his eyes.

"Yes, Brierley, there's a young gentleman just come down here--a friend of Joe's in college, to stop a day or two with us."

"A n.o.b?" said the other, with a wink.

Nelligan nodded a.s.sent and went on,--

"And I 'm just bothered how to get two or three to make company for him."

"If it's grandeur you want, why don't you go over to the barracks there, and ask Captain Downie and the two others? Faix! it's a hearty welcome you 'd get, for they 've never seen the inside of Cro' Martin since the detachment came here."

"It 's my own acquaintances I 'd like to ask to my house, Mat Brierley,"

said Nelligan, proudly; "and the time was when they were n't shy of coming there."

"What do you say to Peter Hayes, then?" said the other. "If you mean to do the civil thing, you'll ask him before he buys that old highwayman of a goose he's cheapening yonder; and there's Father Rafferty in the snuff-shop, and Tom Magennis, and myself-, and that makes six, just the right number for the little round table."

Nelligan paused, and seemed to reflect over the proposition.

"You 'll be quizzing the Englishman,--'taking a rise' out of the Saxon, Brierley?" said Nelligan, distrustfully.

"Devil a bit; I know better manners than that!"

"Tom Magennis would have at him about politics; I know he could n't refrain. And I need n't tell you that English notions are not ours upon these topics."

"Give Tom a hint, and he 'll never touch the subject."

"And Father Neal, will you vouch for him that he won't attack the Established Church, and abuse the Protestants?"

"That I will, if he's not provoked to it."

"Can you answer for yourself, Mat Brierley, that you won't try to borrow a five-pound note of him before the evening's over?" said Nelligan, laughingly.

"I' ve a friend here," said Brierley, tapping the other on the breast, "that would never see me in want of such a trifle as that."

Nelligan made no other reply to this speech than a somewhat awkward grimace, and walked hurriedly on to overtake a tall and very fat man that was just turning the corner of the street. This was Father Neal Rafferty. A very flourishing wave of his reverence's hand, and an urbane bend of his body, betokened the gracious acceptance he gave to the other's invitation; and Brierley walked away, muttering to himself: "They may thank me for this dinner, then; for old Dan was going to feed the 'swells,' if I had n't stopped him."

CHAPTER X. A DINNER-PARTY

People who live much together in small and secluded districts, grow at length to feel a very great distrust for all strangers. Their own ways and their own topics have become such a perfect world to them, that to feel ignorant of these themes appears like affectation or contempt; and the luckless man who drops down into such a "coterie," is invariably deemed impertinent or a fool. Jack Ma.s.sing-bred fully appreciated this difficulty; but it imparted such a piquancy to his "adventure," as he persisted in calling it to himself, that he would n't have dispensed with it, had he been able. It was in this temper he entered the room where the guests were now a.s.sembled, and, rather impatiently, awaiting his arrival.

It is a very cold, calculating sort of interval, that ten minutes before dinner; and men regard the stranger presented to them with feelings far more critical than kindly. Ma.s.singbred did not go through the ordeal unscathed; and it was easy to see in the constraint and reserve of all present, how little his appearance contributed to the promise of future conviviality. He made no effort to dispel this impression, for, after saluting each in turn, he walked to the window, and amused himself with what was pa.s.sing in the street.

The dinner was announced at last, and pa.s.sed off drearily enough; none liked to adventure on any topic of local interest, and they knew of little others. Brierley was stiffly polite; the priest blandly tranquil; the host himself uneasy and anxious; and poor old Peter Hayes, of the Priory, downright melancholy.