CHAPTER XIV

  It had been said that the unexpected often happens, although I do notknow what learned man of the time succeeded in thus succinctlyexpressing a great law and any how it matters little, for I have sincediscovered that these learned men make one headful of brains go a longway by dint of poaching on each other's knowledge. But the unexpectedhappened in this case, all true enough whatever.

  I was giving my man a bit of a warning.

  "Paddy," said I, "you are big, and you are red, and you are Irish; butby the same token you are not the great Fingal, son of lightning. Iwould strongly give you the word. When you see that old woman youstart for the open moors."

  "Devil fear me, sir," answered Paddy promptly. "I'll not be stopping.I would be swimming to Ireland before she lays a claw on me."

  "And mind you exchange no words with her," said I, "for 'tis thatwhich seems to work most wrongfully upon her."

  "Never a word out of me," said he. "I'll be that busy getting up theroad."

  There was another tumult in the corridor, with the same screeches byone and the same humble protests by a multitude. The disturbanceneared us with surprising speed. Suddenly I recalled that when theservant had retired after bringing food and drink I had neglected toagain bar the door. I rushed for it, but I was all too late. I saw thelatch raise. "Paddy!" I shouted wildly. "Mind yourself!" And with thatI dropped to the floor and slid under the bed.

  Paddy howled, and I lifted a corner of the valance to see what wastranspiring. The door had been opened, and the Countess stood lookinginto the room. She was no longer in a fiery rage; she was cool, deadlydetermined, her glittering eye fixed on Paddy. She took a stepforward.

  Paddy, in his anguish, chanted to himself an Irish wail in which hedescribed his unhappiness. "Oh, mother of me, and here I am caughtagain by the old hell-cat, and sure the way she creeps toward me isenough to put the fear of God in the heart of a hedge-robber, themurdering old witch. And it was me was living so fine and grand inEngland and greatly pleased with myself. Sorrow the day I leftIreland; it is, indeed."

  She was now close to him, and she seemed to be preparing for onestupendous pounce which would mean annihilation to Paddy. Her leanhands were thrust out, with the fingers crooked, and it seemed to methat her fingers were very long. In despair Paddy changed his tune andaddressed her.

  "Ah, now, alanna. Sure the kind lady would be for doing no harm? Beeasy, now, acushla."

  But these tender appeals had no effect. Suddenly she pounced. Paddyroared, and sprang backward with splendid agility. He seized a chair.

  Now I am quite sure that before he came to England Paddy had neverseen a chair, although it is true that at some time in his life he mayhave had a peep through a window into an Irish gentleman's house,where there might be a chair if the King's officers in theneighbourhood were not very ambitious and powerful. But Paddy handledthis chair as if he had seen many of them. He grasped it by the backand thrust it out, aiming all four legs at the Countess. It was a finemove. I have seen a moderately good swordsman fairly put to it by apack of scoundrelly drawers who assailed him at all points in thismanner.

  "An you come on too fast," quavered Paddy, "ye can grab two legs, butthere will be one left for your eye and another for your brisket."

  However she came on, sure enough, and there was a moment of scufflingnear the end of the bed out of my sight. I wriggled down to gainanother view, and when I cautiously lifted an edge of the valance myeyes met the strangest sight ever seen in all England. Paddy, muchdishevelled and panting like a hunt-dog, had wedged the Countessagainst the wall. She was pinioned by the four legs of the chair, andPaddy, by dint of sturdily pushing at the chair-back, was keeping herin a fixed position.

  In a flash my mind was made up. Here was the time to escape. Iscrambled quickly from under the bed. "Bravo, Paddy!" I cried, dashingabout the room after my sword, coat, waistcoat, and hat. "Devil a fearbut you'll hold her, my bucko! Push hard, my brave lad, and mind yourfeet don't slip!"

  "If your honour pleases," said Paddy, without turning his eyes fromhis conquest, "'tis a little help I would be wishing here. She wouldbe as strong in the shoulder as a good plough-horse and I am not forstaying here for ever."

  "Bravo, my grand lad!" I cried, at last finding my hat, which hadsomehow gotten into a corner. From the door I again addressed Paddy inencouraging speech. "There's a stout-hearted boy for you! Hold hard,and mind your feet don't slip!"

  He cast a quick agonized look in my direction, and, seeing that I wasabout basely to desert him, he gave a cry, dropped the chair, andbolted after me. As we ran down the corridor I kept well in advance,thinking it the best place in case the pursuit should be energetic.But there was no pursuit. When Paddy was holding the Countess prisonershe could only choke and stammer, and I had no doubt that she now waswell mastered by exhaustion.

  Curiously there was little hubbub in the inn. The fact that theCountess was the rioter had worked in a way to cause people to seeksecluded and darkened nooks. However, the landlord raised his bleat atme. "Oh, sir, such a misfortune to befall my house just when so manygrand ladies and gentlemen are here."

  I took him quietly by the throat and beat his head against the wall,once, twice, thrice.

  "And you allow mad ladies to molest your guests, do you?" said I.

  "Sir," he stuttered, "could I have caused her to cease?

  "True," I said, releasing him. "But now do as I bid you and quickly. Iam away to London. I have had my plenty of you and your mad ladies."

  We started bravely to London, but we only went to another and quieterinn, seeking peace and the absence of fear. I may say we found it,and, in a chair before a good fire, I again took my comfort. Paddy saton the floor, toasting his shins. The warmth passed him into areflective mood.

  "And I know all I need of grand ladies," he muttered, staring into thefire. "I thought they were all for riding in gold coaches and smellingof beautiful flowers, and here they are mad to be chasing Irishmen ininns. I remember old Mag Cooligan fought with a whole regiment ofKing's troops in Bantry, and even the drums stopped beating, thesoldiers were that much interested. But, sure, everybody would beknowing that Mag was no grand lady, although Pat Cooligan, herbrother, was pig-killer to half the country-side. I am thinking wewere knowing little about grand ladies. One of the soldiers had hishead broke by a musket because the others were so ambitious to destroythe old lady, and she scratching them all. 'Twas long remembered inBantry."

  "Hold your tongue about your betters," said I sharply. "Don't becomparing this Mag Cooligan with a real Countess."

  "There would be a strange similarity any how," said he. "But, sure,Mag never fought in inns, for the reason that they would not beletting her inside."

  "Remember how little you are knowing of them, Paddy," said I. "'Tisnot for you to be talking of the grand ladies when you have seen onlyone, and you would not be knowing another from a fish. Grand ladiesare eccentric, I would have you to know. They have their ways withthem which are not for omadhauns like you to understand."

  "Eccentric, is it?" said he. "I thought it would be some suchdevilment."

  "And I am knowing," said I with dignity, "of one lady so fine that ifyou don't stop talking that way of ladies I will break your thickskull for you, and it would matter to nobody."

  "'Tis an ill subject for discussion, I am seeing that," said Paddy."But, faith, I could free Ireland with an army of ladies like one I'veseen."

  "Will you be holding your tongue?" I cried wrathfully.

  Paddy began to mumble to himself,--"Bedad, he was under the bed fastenough without offering her a stool by the fire and a small drop ofdrink which would be no more than decent with him so fond of her. I amnot knowing the ways of these people."

  In despair of his long tongue I made try to change the talking.

  "We are off for London, Paddy. How are you for it?"

  "London, is it?" said he warily. "I was hearing there are many fineladies there."

  For the second time in
his life I cuffed him soundly on the ear.

  "Now," said I, "be ringing the bell. I am for buying you a bit ofdrink; but if you mention the gentry to me once more in thatblackguard way I'll lather you into a resemblance to yourgrandfather's bones."

  After a pleasant evening I retired to bed leaving Paddy snug asleep bythe fire. I thought much of my Lady Mary, but with her mother stalkingthe corridors and her knowing father with his eye wide open, I knewthere was no purpose in hanging about a Bath inn. I would go toLondon, where there were gardens, and walks in the park, and parties,and other useful customs. There I would win my love.

  The following morning I started with Paddy to meet Jem Bottles andtravel to London. Many surprising adventures were in store for us, butan account of these I shall leave until another time, since one wouldnot be worrying people with too many words, which is a great fault ina man who is recounting his own affairs.

 
Stephen Crane and Robert Barr's Novels