It was a philosophy he built much upon, for it was a form of self-love that simulated a good quality, many of his acquaintances saying, "At all events, there 's no sn.o.bbery about Ma.s.singbred; he 'll know, and even be intimate with, anybody." Nor did the deception only extend to others.

Jack himself fancied he was an excellent fellow,--frank, generous, and open-hearted.

It is a very strange fact--and fact it certainly is--that the men who reason most upon their own natures, look inwardly at their own minds, and scrutinize most their own motives, are frequently the least natural of all mankind! This self-inquiry is such thorough self-deception that he who indulges in it often becomes an actor. As for Ma.s.singbred, there was nothing real about him save his egotism! Gifted with very good abilities, aided by a strong "vitality," he had great versatility; but of all powers, this same plastic habit tends most to render a man artificial.

Now, his present difficulty was by no means to his taste. He did not like his "quarrel;" he liked less the age and station of his adversary; and least of all was he pleased with the character of his "friend." It was said of Sheridan, that when consulted about the music of his operas, he only asked, "Will it grind?"--that is, would it be popular enough for a street organ, and become familiar to every ear? So Jack Ma.s.singbred regarded each event in life by the test of how it would "tell," in what wise could a newspaper report it, and how would it read in the Clubs? He fancied himself discussing the adventure at "White's," and asking, "Can any one say what Ma.s.singbred's row was about? Was he poaching?--or how came he there? Was there a woman in it? And who is his friend Magennis?"

In thoughts like these he pa.s.sed hour after hour, walking his room from end to end, and waiting for morning.

At length he bethought him how little likely it was that Magennis would remember anything whatever of the transaction, and that his late debauch might obliterate all memory of the affair. "What if this were to be the case, and that we were to arrive too late at Oughterard? A pretty version would the papers then publish to the world!" Of all possible casualties this was the very worst; and the more he reflected on it, the more probable did it seem. "He is the very fellow to wake up late in the afternoon, rub his eyes, and declare he had forgotten the whole thing."

"This will never do!" muttered he to himself; and at once determined that he would make an endeavor to recall his friend to consciousness, and come to some arrangement for the approaching meeting. Ma.s.singbred descended the stairs with noiseless steps, and gently approaching the door of the sitting-room, opened it.

Magennis was asleep, his head resting upon the table, and his heavy breathing denoting how deeply he slumbered. On a low stool at his feet sat Joan, pale and weary-looking, her cheeks still marked with recent tears, and the dark impression of what seemed to have been a blow beneath her eye. Jack approached her cautiously, and asked if it were his custom to pa.s.s the night thus.

"Sometimes, when he 's tired--when he has anything on his mind," replied she, in some confusion, and averting her head so as to escape notice.

"And when he awakes," said Jack, "he will be quite refreshed, and his head all clear again?"

"By coorse he will!" said she, proudly. "No matter what he took of a night, n.o.body ever saw the signs of it on him the next morning."

"I did not ask out of any impertinent curiosity," continued Ma.s.singbred; "but we have, both of us, some rather important business to-morrow in Oughterard. We ought to be there at an early hour."

"I know," said she, interrupting. "He bid me bring down these;" and she pointed to a case of pistols lying open beside her, and in cleaning which she had been at the moment engaged. "I brought the wrong ones, first." Here she stammered out something, and grew crimson over her whole face; then suddenly recovering herself, said, "I did n't know it was the 'Terries' he wanted."

"The 'Terries'?" repeated Jack.

"Yes, sir. It was these Terry Callaghan shot the two gentlemen with, the same morning, at Croghaglin,--father and son they were!" And saying these words in a voice of the most perfect unconcern possible, she took up a flannel rag and began to polish the lock of one of the weapons.

"They 're handsome pistols," said Jack, rather amused with her remark.

"They 're good, and that's better!" replied she, gravely. "That one in your hand has seven double crosses on the stock and nine single."

"The seven were killed on the ground, I suppose?"

A short nod of a.s.sent was her reply.

"Such little events are not unfrequent down here, then?"

"Anan!" said she, not understanding his question.

Jack quickly perceived that he had not taken sufficient account of Joan's limited acquaintance with language, and said,--

"They often fight in these parts?"

"Ayeh! not now," replied she, in a half-deploring tone. "My father remembers twenty duels for one that does be nowadays."

"A great change, indeed."

"Some say it's all for the better," resumed she, doubtfully. "But hush,--he's stirring; leave him quiet, and I 'll call you when he's ready."

"And I can depend--"

"To be sure you can. He forgets many a thing; but no man living can say that he ever misremembered a duel." And with these words, in a low whisper, she motioned Ma.s.singbred to the door.

Jack obeyed in silence, and, ascending to his room, lay down on the bed.

He determined to pa.s.s the interval before morning in deep thought and self-examination; but, somehow, he had scarcely laid his head on the pillow when he fell off into a heavy sleep, sound and dreamless.

The day was just breaking when he was aroused by a somewhat rude shake, and a voice saying,--

"Come, up with you. We 've a sharp ride before us!"

Jack started up, and in an instant recalled all the exigencies of the hour.

"I have sent the 'tools' forward by a safe hand," continued Magennis; "and Joan has a cup of tea ready for us below stairs. So lose no time now, and let us be off."

The humble meal that awaited them was soon despatched, and they were speedily mounted on the pair of mountain ponies Magennis had provided, and whose equipments, even in the half-light of the morning, rather shocked Mas-singbred's notions of propriety,--one of his stirrup-leathers being a foot shorter than the other, while an old worsted bell-rope formed the snaffle-rein of his bridle.

The road, too, was rugged and precipitous, and many a stumble and scramble had they in the uncertain light; while the swooping rain dashed violently against them, and effectually precluded all thought of conversation. Two hours, that seemed like ten, brought them at length upon the highroad; after which, by a brisk canter of forty minutes, they reached Oughterard.

"Let us dismount here," said Jack, as they gained the outskirts of the town, not fancying to make a public appearance on his humble steed.

"Why so?" answered Magennis. "It's ashamed of the pony you are! Oh, for the matter of that, don't distress yourself; we 're too well used to them in these parts to think them ridiculous."

There was a soreness and irritation in his tone which Jack quickly remarked, and as quickly tried to obviate, by some good-natured remark about the good qualities of the animals; but Magennis heard him without attention, and seemed entirely immersed in his own thoughts.

"Turn in there, to your left," cried he, suddenly, and they wheeled into an arched gateway that opened upon the stable-yard of the inn. Early as it was, the place was full of bustle and movement; for it was the market-day, and the farmers were already arriving.

Carts, cars, gigs, and a dozen other nameless vehicles crowded the spot, with kicking ponies and mules of malicious disposition; grooming and shoeing and unharnessing went on, with a noise and merriment that was perfectly deafening; and Ma.s.singbred, as he threaded his way through the crowd, soon perceived how little notice he was likely to attract in such an a.s.sembly. Magennis soon dismounted, and having given directions about the beasts, led Jack into the house, and up a narrow, creaking stair into a small room, with a single window, and a bed in one corner. "This is where I always put up," said he, laying down his hat and whip, "and it will do well enough for the time we 'll want it."

CHAPTER XVI. "A CHALLENGE"

"He 's here; he arrived last night," said Magennis, as he entered the room after a short exploring tour through the stables, the kitchen, and every other quarter where intelligence might be come at. "He came alone; but the major of the detachment supped with him, and that looks like business!"

"The earlier you see him the better, then," said Mas-singbred.

"I'll just go and get my beard off," said he, pa.s.sing his hand across a very grizzly stubble, "and I'll be with him in less than half an hour.

There's only a point or two I want to be clear about. Before he struck you, did you gesticulate, or show any intention of using violence?"

"None. I have told you that I caught his horse by the bridle, but that was to save him from falling back."

"Ah, that was indiscreet, at all events."

"Would n't it have been worse to suffer him to incur a severe danger which I might have prevented?"

"I don't think so; but we'll not discuss the point now. There was a blow?"

"That there was," said Jack, pointing to the spot where a great strap of sticking-plaster extended across his forehead.