CHAPTER III
The Lords of Dunseveric once lived in a castle perched on the edge of acliff, a place inferior to the neighbouring Dunluce as a stronghold, butequally uncomfortable as a residence. The walls were thick, the roomslittle larger than prison cells, and the windows very small and narrow,but they were wide enough to let the wind whistle through them and therain trickle over their sills to the stone floors inside. The doctorof a modern sanatorium for consumptive people would have been wellsatisfied with the ventilation of Dunseveric Castle. On stormy days inwinter it must have been most unsafe to venture out of doors. The worstwinds, fortunately, always blow inwards from the sea, but there areeddies round buildings, and with precipices on three sides of him,the ancient lord of Dunseveric had need to walk cautiously and providehimself, when possible, with something to hold on to. Some time at theend of the seventeenth century the reigning lord, giving up in despairthe attempt to render habitable a home more suited to a seagull than anobleman, being also less in dread than his ancestors of sea pirates andland marauders, determined to build himself a house in which he couldlive comfortably. He selected a site about a mile inland from theoriginal castle, and laid the foundations of Dunseveric House. Then,despairing perhaps of living to complete his architect's grandioseplans, he gave up the idea of building and hired a house near Dublin.During the early part of the eighteenth century he interested himself inIrish politics, and succeeded, as influential politicians did in thosedays, in providing comfortably for outlying members of his family fromthe public purse. His son, when it came to his turn to reign, ignoredthe foundations which his father had laid, and erected a mansion such asIrish gentlemen delighted in at the time--a Square block of grey masonrywith small windows to light large rooms, a huge basement storey, and animpressive flight of stone steps leading up to the front door. He alsoenclosed several acres of land with a stone wall, called the space agarden and planted it with some fruit trees which did not flourish.
His son, the Lord Dunseveric of 1798, having little left him to do inthe way of building, devoted his early years to planting and laying outpleasure grounds round the new house. His wife, a French woman of Irishextraction, brought a cultivated taste to his aid. No doubt her ideasand her husband's energy would in the end have created a beautiful andsatisfying demesne round Dunseveric House if it had not been for thenorth wind and the sea spray. These were hard enemies for a landscapegardener to fight, and when Lady Dunseveric died her husband gave up thestruggle, having nothing better to show for his time and money than somefringes of dejected-looking alders and a few groves of stunted Scotchfirs. He even neglected the glass houses which his wife had built. Irishpolitics became extremely interesting just after Lady Dunseveric died,and an Irish gentleman might well be forgiven for neglecting the cultureof his demesne when his time was occupied with drilling Volunteers,passing Grand Jury resolutions in support of the use of Irishmanufactured goods, and subsequently preparing schemes for the internaldevelopment of Ireland.
Thus Dunseveric House was by no means an attractive place to Estelle,Comtesse de Tour-neville, when she first visited it. Accustomed to thescenery round her dead husband's chateau in the valley of the Loire, andattached to the life of the French Court, the appearance of DunsevericHouse struck her as utterly dismal. She had every reason beforehand tosuppose that it would be dismal, and was quite convinced that it wouldnot suit her as a place of residence. Forced to flee from France in1793, she put off taking refuge in her brother-in-law's house as longas possible, and only arrived there after spending three years amonghospitable friends in England.
"The poor Marie, my poor sister," she said, when Lord Dunseveric, atthe end of the long drive from Ballymoney, turned the horses up the bareavenue.
To her maid, in the privacy of her bedroom, she opened her grief morefully.
"I remember very well when my sister married, though I was but a littlegirl at the time, eight or perhaps nine years old. I remember that allthe world talked of her handsome Irish husband. He was a fine man then.He is a fine man still, and has the grand manner. Oh, yes, he is verywell. And my nephew. He is well made, big and strong like all the menof his race and blood. But he has no manner--none. If only my sister hadlived she might have formed him. But--poor Marie!"
She sighed. The maid hazarded a suggestion that Lady Dunseveric hadfound life _triste_, too _triste_ to be endurable.
"You are right," said the Comtesse, "she must have died of sheerdulness. She had two children. That was occupation for a while, nodoubt. But, _mon dieu_, a lady cannot go on having children every yearlike a woman of the _bourgeoisie_. It would be too tedious. She died.She was right. And now I am here in her place. I am here with my lord,who has good manners but does not care about me, wishes me anywhere butin his house; a nephew who has no manners and a great deal of stupidity,and a niece who is much too old to be my niece, and who is too like mein face and figure for us to get on well together. Otherwise, truly,she is not like me. She is content to spend all day in a boat on the seacatching fish. Conceive it yourself, Susanne, she was catching fish,and her companion was the son of the _cure_, a man of some altogetherimpossible Protestant sect."
But the Comtesse had the good manners or the good sense not to grumbleabout her surroundings to anyone except her maid. She so far understoodthe philosophy of a happy life as to know that pleasure awaits thoseonly who succeed in making themselves pleasant.
She came down the morning after she arrived in time for breakfast,although the English breakfast was a meal she had learned to detest, andthe North of Ireland families have made an even more serious business ofit. She expressed a delight which she cannot be supposed to have felt atthe sight of salmon, fried, cold, kippered; ham, eggs, fowl, farles ofhome-made bread, oat-cake, honey, jam, butter. To the secret amusementof Lord Dun-severic she even accepted a bowl of porridge which hernephew offered her, and then, to the astonishment of Maurice, asked ifshe might eat honey with it. She was delightfully optimistic about theprospects of amusement for the day.
"Where are you going to take me, Una? There are so many things thatI want to see. I recall the letters which Marie, your mother, used towrite to me about wonderful cliffs and gloomy caves and white rocks andlong strands. Of course you have all the business of the house to attendto. I quite understand. I will wait. But afterwards, where will you takeme?"
Una glanced out of the window. The south wind of the day before hadbrought, as south winds usually do in County Antrim, abundant rain.Maurice, appealed to, gave it as his opinion that there was no chanceof the weather improving until three o'clock, and that there wasn't muchchance of sunshine even then.
"But, at least," said the Comtesse, "I shall be able to see your oldcastle? I have heard so much about the castle. Could we not even gothere?"
"We might," said Una dubiously, "but you will have to walk across twofields, and the grass is long at this time of year. I don't mind gettingwet, of course, but you----"
"I think, Estelle," said Lord Dunseveric, "that you had better giveup the idea of any expedition out of doors. Una will have a good firelighted for you in the morning-room, and you must make yourself ascomfortable as you can."
When breakfast was over, Lord Dunseveric himself conducted his sister tothe morning-room. He selected a chair for her. He placed a small tablebeside her. He stirred the fire into a fair blaze. He even fetched somebooks for her from the library. But the Comtesse was not content.
"Please sit down," she said, "and talk with me."
The prospect of a long morning spent sitting on a chair talking to awoman was not one which pleased Lord Dunseveric very greatly, but hismanners were, as his sister-in-law had observed, excellent. He hadletters to write and an important communication from the general incommand of the troops in Belfast to consider. But he sat down besidehis sister-in-law as if he were really pleased at having the chance ofa long chat with her, as if she did him a favour in granting him theprivilege of keeping her company.
"What shall we talk about?" s
he said. "About dear Marie? About oldtimes? That would be too sad. About Maurice and Una? What is Maurice todo? Have you obtained for him--how do you say it?--a commission in thearmy? There is nothing better for a young man than to spend a shorttime in the army. He sees the world. He learns manners and how to bearhimself and speak to a woman. And Una? We must have Una presented atCourt. Will you take her to Dublin this year? I think that you ought to.It is not good for a girl to grow up all alone here."
"I fear it will hardly be possible for me to go to Dublin either thisyear or next."
"But why? Surely you would be well received? Or is it not so? I supposethat you are one of the _grands seigneurs_ of Ireland, one of theleaders of your aristocracy. Besides, _mon frere_, your appearance, yourmanner----. There cannot be many of your Irish gentry----."
She paused and smiled on him most pleasantly. Lord Dunseveric wassufficiently a man of the world to understand that this pretty lady wasflattering him. He even thought that she was not doing it very well,that her methods were too obvious to be really artistic. Nevertheless,he liked it. We most of us enjoy being flattered very much, especiallyby pretty women, though we take a great deal of trouble to persuadeourselves that we despise the flatterer and her ways. The Comtesse wouldhave said similar things to any man whom she wanted to please, and LordDunseveric was quite aware of the fact. Still he was pleased. It wasa long time since a woman in a pretty dress, a woman who knew how toassume a graceful attitude, had taken the trouble to flatter him. Hesmiled response to her smile.
"I've no doubt that I should be, as you put it, well received. I'm notafraid that His Excellency would show me the cold shoulder, but thepresent condition of the country is critical. I think it my duty tostay at home. I am afraid that we are on the brink of an attempt atrevolution."
"_Mon dieu!_ And have you Jacobins, too? I thought there were no suchthings in Ireland. Tell me about your Jacobins."
Again Lord Dunseveric was conscious that the Comtesse was trying toplease him, was displaying an interest, which did not seem whollynatural, in a subject on which he would like to talk.
"I'm afraid, Estelle, that an account of our Irish politics wouldweary you. Politics are dull. You would send me away if I talked aboutpolitics."
"I assure you, no," she said. "In France we found politics mostexciting. The poor Comte, my husband, found them altogether tooexciting. Do tell me about your Irish Jacobins. Are they also_sans-culottes?_"
"They are mostly Presbyterians, dour, pigheaded, fanatical Republicans,who want to get an army of your French friends over to help them."
"Presbyterians! How droll! I thought Presbyterians were----But is notMaurice's friend, the young man who goes out fishing in the sea withUna, is not he a Presbyterian? I think they said last night that he wasthe son of a _cure_."
"Yes, he is. His father has the reputation of being one of the mostfanatical of the whole lot. But the young fellow is all right, so far asI know."
The Comtesse was silent for a minute or two. She appeared to beconsidering Lord Dunseveric's last remark. When she spoke again it wasevident that her thoughts had wandered from Neal Ward's politics toanother subject.
"Is it right, do you think, that this young man should be so intimatewith Una? She is a very attractive girl, and at a very dangerous age."
"Oh, they've played together since they were children. Young Ward is anice boy and a good sportsman."
"Still, he would not be suitable. Am I right?"
"If you mean that he wouldn't do as a husband for Una, you are right,but I don't think for a moment that any such nonsensical idea evercrossed their minds. I like Neal. He's a fine, straightforward boy, anda good sportsman."
"I should like to see this model young man. Perhaps you English--pardonme, my dear brother, you Irish--are differently made; but with us thenicer a young man is the more dangerous we reckon him."
"There's no difficulty about your meeting him. I'll ask him to dinnerto-day if you like. I'm sure Maurice will be pleased to ride over withthe invitation."
"Charming," said the Comtesse. "Then I shall judge for myself."
Neal Ward accepted the invitation when he received it. Perhaps he wouldnot have been able to do so had he been obliged to submit it to hisfather and his uncle; but they had gone out together early in the day.Neal understood that his uncle was to be introduced to several peopleof importance, members of his father's congregation, men who were deeplyinvolved in the plans of the United Irishmen. He was left alone with atask to perform. He was not now transcribing passages from Josephus.His uncle had decided that he was to be trusted, and, as a proof ofconfidence, he was set to compile from various papers a list of those inthe neighbourhood who could be relied on to take up arms when the day ofthe contemplated outbreak arrived. The work interested Neal greatly.He knew most of the men whose names he copied. Some of them he knewintimately. Now and then he was surprised to find that some well-to-doand apparently well contented farmer was a member of the society. Oncehe paused and hesitated about going on with his work. He came to astatement of the fact that one, James Finlay, had been enrolled as aUnited Irishman and admitted to the councils of the local committee.Neal knew James Finlay, and disliked him. Once he had caught him atnight in the act of netting salmon in the river. Neal had threatened tohand him over to Lord Dunseveric. The poacher blustered, threatened, andeven attempted an attack upon Neal. He got the worst of the encounter,and after vague threats of future vengeance, relapsed into whiningsupplication. Neal spared him, considering that the man had beenwell thrashed, and having the dislike, common to all generous-mindedIrishmen, of bringing to justice a delinquent of any kind. But hedisliked and distrusted James Finlay, and he did not understand howhis father and the others came to trust such a man. He wrote the name,reflecting that Finlay had left the neighbourhood some weeks before inorder to seek employment in Belfast. Shortly afterwards he completed histask. Maurice St. Clair arrived with Lord Dunseveric's invitation. Neallocked up his papers, changed his clothes, and went through the rain toDunseveric House. He was not comfortable or easy in his mind. Yesterdayit was natural and pleasant to spend the day with Maurice and Una.To-day he knew things of which he had been entirely ignorant before. Heknew that he himself was committed to a share in a desperate struggle,in what might well become a civil war, and that he would be fightingagainst Lord Dunseveric and against his friend Maurice. It did notseem to him to be a fair and honourable thing to eat the breadof unsuspecting enemies. Twice, as he tramped through the rain toDunseveric House, he stopped and almost decided to turn back. Twice hesucceeded in silencing his scruples and quieting the complaints of hisconscience. Each time it was the thought of Una which decided him. Therewas in him a hunger to see the girl, to be near her, to touch her hand,to hear her voice. Since his uncle had spoken to him about her on theevening of his arrival Neal had become acutely and painfully consciousof his love for her. Long ago he had loved her. Looking back he thoughtthat he had always loved her. Now he knew that he loved her. That made agreat difference.
He was welcomed when he arrived by Lord Dun-severic with friendlycourtesy--by Una shyly. Her manner was not as it had been the daybefore. The frank friendliness was gone. There was something else inits place, something which thrilled Neal with hope and fear. Perhaps thegirl felt instinctively the change in Neal. Perhaps she was consciousof her aunt's keen laughing eyes. Who can tell how a girl first becomesconscious of the fact that a young man loves her? The Comtesse alsowelcomed Neal. She set herself to please and flatter him. At dinnershe talked brightly and amusingly. It seemed to Neal that she talkedbrilliantly. She told stories of the old French life. She related herrecent experiences of English society. She rallied Lord Dunseveric onhis grave dignity of manner. She drew laughter again and again from Unaand Maurice. But she addressed herself most to Neal. He was intoxicatedwith her vivacity, the swift gleams of her wit, her delicate beauty, herexquisite dress. He had never seen, never even imagined, the existenceof such a woman. Lord Dunseveric watched her and listen
ed to her withquiet amusement. It seemed to him that his sister-in-law meant notonly to rescue Una from an undesirable lover, but to attach a handsome,gauche youth to herself. He understood that a woman like Estelle deTourneville might find the attentions of Neal Ward vastly diverting ina place like Dunseveric, where nothing better in the way of a flirtationwas to be looked for.
The wine and fruit were placed on the table and the servants withdrew.The Comtesse, with her wine-glass in her hand, stood up.
"It is not at all the fashion," she said, "for a lady to make a speech.I shall shock you, my lord, but you will forgive me, for you know theworld. I shall shock my sweet Una, but she will forgive me because herheart has no room in it for unkind thoughts of anyone. I shall shockmy nephew and the solemn Mr. Neal Ward, and they will not forgive mebecause they are young and, therefore, have very strict ideas of how awoman ought to behave herself. Nevertheless, I am going to make a speechand propose a toast. I am Irish. Long ago my fathers lived in Irelandand were _grands seigneurs_ as my good brother, Lord Dunseveric, isto-day. They left Ireland for the sake of their faith and their king.They went to France; but I am not, therefore, French. I am Irish. Nowthat the French people have turned against us, have even wished to cutoff my head, which I think is much more ornamental on my shoulders thanit would be anywhere else--now I have returned to Ireland, I ask you allto drink my toast with me. I propose--'Ireland.' I, who am loyal to theold faith and the memory of the legitimate king, I will drink it. Mylord, who is of another faith and loyal to another king, will drink italso. Mr. Neal, who has a third kind of faith, and is, I understand, notloyal to any king, will, no doubt, drink it. My friends--'Ireland.'!"
She raised her glass to her lips and sipped the wine. All the fourlisteners stood and raised their glasses.
"'Ireland,'" said Lord Dunseveric gravely. "I drink to Ireland."
Then, with the glass at his lips, he paused. There was a noise of horsehoofs on the gravel outside. A horseman, in military uniform, canteredby. He was followed by another, a trooper. The little company in thediningroom stood still and silent. The bell at the door of the housewas rung violently. Its sound reached them. A vague uneasiness cameupon them. One by one they sat down and laid their glasses--the wineuntasted--on the table before them. A servant entered the room.
"Captain Twinely, my lord, of the Killulta Company of Yeomanry, wishesto see your lordship on important business."
"Ask him to come in here," said Lord Dunseveric.
Una rose as if to leave the room.
"No," said Lord Dunseveric, "stay where you are, and do you stay, too,Estelle. This Captain Twinely must drink a glass of wine with us. Hepasses for a gentleman. Then if he has business with me I shall take himaway. I must not break up our little party. It is not every day thatwe have the pleasure of listening to such charming speeches as your's,Estelle."
Captain Twinely entered the room with a swagger. He made a great noisewith his heavy boots and with his spurs as he crossed the polishedfloor.
"I ask your pardon, my lord. I ask the ladies' pardon. I am not fit foryour company. I have ridden far today, and the roads are bad, damnedbad. I rode on the king's business."
"The ladies," said Lord Dunseveric, "will be pleased if you will drink aglass of wine with them. Are you alone?"
"I left my troop in Ballintoy. The sergeant will see that they obtainrefreshment. My servant holds my horse outside."
"I shall send him some refreshment," said Lord Dunseveric. "And yourhorses must be stabled here till you have told me how I can serve you."
Captain Twinely drank his wine, bowed to the ladies, and then said--
"I come at an inconvenient hour, my lord. You have just dined and youhave pleasant company, but I must crave your attention for a letterwhich I bring you. The king's business, my lord."
Lord Dunseveric rose, and led the way to the library.
"I don't doubt," said Captain Twinely, "no one could be such a fool asto doubt the loyalty of every member of your lordship's household and ofevery guest in your lordship's house; but in deliver-ing my letter andmy message I prefer to be where there is no chance of eavesdropping.Will you allow me to make sure that we are not overheard?"
Lord Dunseveric himself shut the door of the room and drew a boltacross it. Captain Twinely took a sealed packet from his breast. LordDunseveric looked carefully at the address, broke the seal, and read thecontents of the paper within.
"Do you know the contents of this paper, Captain Twinely?"
"My orders are to solicit your lordship's assistance, as a Justiceof the Peace for the county, in arresting certain persons and takingpossession of some arms concealed in the neighbourhood. I do not knowthe names of the persons or the place where the arms are concealed. Ihave not been treated with confidence. I'm a loyal man, but I'm onlya plain gentleman. I may say that I feel aggrieved. I deserved moreconfidence."
Lord Dunseveric read the letter again before he answered.
"I am directed here to arrest, with your assistance, five persons. Allof them are men who are well known and respected in this neighbourhood.I know nothing of the evidence against them, beyond the mere fact,stated here, that from information received they are believed to beengaged in a plot for an armed rebellion. Captain Twinely, I have nota very high opinion of the men from whom the Government receivesinformation, and I have reason to believe that the information is notalways trustworthy. There have been recently---- but I need not go intothat. I am a loyal man. I am willing to assist the Government in any wayin my power, but my loyalty has limits. Two of the persons named in thisletter I shall not arrest. One of them I believe to be innocent of alldesigns against the Government; the other is a very feeble old man, whowill not in any case be dangerous as a rebel, and whom I have privatereasons for not wishing to arrest. I am willing to go with you tothe houses of the other three and arrest them. As for the concealedarms--cannon it is stated here--I do not believe they exist, but I shalltake you to the place named, and let you see for yourself. Will thissatisfy you?"
"Your lordship has to consider whether it will satisfy my commandingofficer. I should have thought it better, more advisable, more prudent,for your lordship to obey the orders you have received exactly."
The man's words were perfectly civil, but his manner and tone suggesteda threat. Lord Dun-severic stiffened suddenly.
"I shall consider your commanding officer," he said, "when I am shownthat he has any right to command me."
"Your loyalty----," began Captain Twinely.
"My loyalty to the king and the Irish constitution is not to besuspected or impugned by Mr. Twinely, of Killulta."
"My lord, I consider that an unhandsome speech. I am only a plaingentleman, but I am loyal. We county gentlemen ought to stand together.I expected more consideration from you, my lord. I do not like yoursneering tone. By God, if it were not that I am on the king's busi--"
"Yes, if you were not on the king's business----"
But Captain Twinely did not finish his speech.
"I shall have some refreshment brought in here to you, Captain Twinely,"said Lord Dunseveric. "I shall, with your permission, order a servant toride to Ballintoy and bring your troop here. When they arrive I shall beready to go with you. In the meanwhile, I beg you to excuse my leavingyou. I have some private matters to arrange before we start."
He walked to the door, drew back the bolt, bowed, and left the room.