unfrequented place, they were merely knownby their names on the rent-roll. Except for this, their existence hadbeen as totally forgotten, as though they had made part of the wildheath upon the mountain.
While Mr. Leslie lived in ignorance that such people existed on hisproperty, they looked up to him with a degree of reverence almostdevotional. The owner of the soil was a character actually sacred intheir eyes; for what respect and what submission were enough for one,who held in his hands the destinies of so many; who could raise themto affluence, or depress them to want, and by his mere word control theAgent himself, the most dreaded of all those who exerted an influence ontheir fortunes?
There was a feudalism, too, in this sentiment that gave the reverence afeeling of strong allegiance. The landlord was the head of a clan, as itwere; he was the culminating point of that pyramid of which they formedthe base; and they were proud of every display of his wealth and hispower, which they deemed as ever reflecting credit upon themselves. Andthen, his position in the county--his rank--his titles--the amountof his property--his house--his retinue--his very equipage, were allsubjects on which they descanted with eager delight, and proudly exaltedin contrast with less favoured proprietors. At the time we speak of,absenteeism had only begun to impair the warmth of this affection; thetraditions of a resident landlord were yet fresh in the memory of theyoung; and a hundred traits of kindness and good-nature were mingledin their minds with stories of grandeur and extravagance, which, tothe Irish peasant's ear, are themes as grateful as ever the gorgeouspictures of Eastern splendour were to the heightened imagination andburning fancies of Oriental listeners.
Owen Connor was a firm disciple of this creed. Perhaps his lonesequestered life among the mountains, with no companionship save thatof his old father, had made him longer retain these convictions inall their force, than if, by admixture with his equals, and greaterintercourse with the world, he had conformed his opinions to thegradually changed tone of the country. It was of little moment tohim what might be the temper or the habits of his landlord. Themonarchy--and not the monarch of the soil--was the object of hisloyalty; and he would have deemed himself disgraced and dishonoured hadhe shewn the slightest backwardness in his fealty. He would as soon haveexpected that the tall fern that grew wild in the valley should havechanged into a blooming crop of wheat, as that the performance of sucha service could have met with any requital. It was, to his thinking, asimple act of duty, and required not any prompting of high principle,still less any suggestion of self-interest. Poor Owen, therefore, hadnot even a sentiment of heroism to cheer him, as they bore him slowlyalong, every inequality of the ground sending a pang through his achinghead that was actually torture.
"That's a mark you'll carry to your dying day, Owen, my boy," said oneof the bearers, as they stopped for a moment to take breath. "I can seethe bone there shining this minute."
"It must be good stuff anyways the same head," said Owen, with a sicklyattempt to smile. "They never put a star in it yet; and faix I seen thesticks cracking like dry wood in the frost."
"It's well it didn't come lower down," said another, examining the deepcut, which gashed his forehead from the hair down to the eyebrow. "Youknow what the Widow Glynn said at Peter Henessy's wake, when she sawthe stroke of the scythe that laid his head open--it just come, likeyer own, down to that--'Ayeh!' says she, 'but he's the fine corpse; andwasn't it the Lord spared his eye!'"
"Stop, and good luck to you, Freney, and don't be making me laugh; thepain goes through my brain like the stick of a knife," said Owen, as helifted his trembling hands and pressed them on either side of his head.
They wetted his lips with water, and resumed their way, not speakingaloud as before, but in a low undertone, only audible to Owen atintervals; for he had sunk into a half-stupid state, they believed to besleep. The path each moment grew steeper; for, leaving the wild "boreen"road, which led to a large bog on the mountainside, it wound nowupwards, zigzaging between masses of granite rock and deep tufts ofheather, where sometimes the foot sunk to the instep. The wet and spongysoil increased the difficulty greatly; and although all strong andpowerful men, they were often obliged to halt and rest themselves.
"It's an elegant view, sure enough," said one, wiping his drippingforehead with the tail of his coat. "See there! look down where the fairis, now! it isn't the size of a good griddle, the whole of it. How purtythe lights look shining in the water!"
"And the boats, too! Musha! they're coming up more of them. There'll begood divarshin there, this night." These last words, uttered with a halfsigh, shewed with what a heavy heart the speaker saw himself debarredfrom participating in the festivity.
"'Twas a dhroll place to build a house then, up there," said another,pointing to the dark speck, far, far away on the mountain, where OwenConnor's cabin stood.
"Owen says yez can see Galway of a fine day, and the boats going outfrom the Claddagh; and of an evening, when the sun is going down, you'llsee across the bay, over to Clare, the big cliffs of Mogher."
"Now, then! are ye in earnest? I don't wonder he's so fond of theplace after all. It's an elegant thing to see the whole world, and finecompany besides. Look at Lough Mask! Now, boys, isn't that beautifulwith the sun on it?"
"Come, it's getting late, Freney, and the poor boy ought to be at homebefore night;" and once more they lifted their burden and moved forward.
For a considerable time they continued to ascend without speaking, whenone of the party in a low cautious voice remarked, "Poor Owen will thinkworse of it, when he hears the reason of the fight, than for the cut onthe head--bad as it is."
"Musha; then he needn't," replied another; "for if ye mane about MaryJoyce, he never had a chance of her."
"I'm not saying that he had," said the first speaker; "but he's just asfond of her; do you mind the way he never gave back one of Phil's blows,but let him hammer away as fast as he plazed?"
"What was it at all, that Mr. Leslie did?" asked another; "I didn't hearhow it begun yet."
"Nor I either, rightly; but I believe Mary was standing looking at thedance, for she never foots a step herself--maybe she's too ginteel--andthe young gentleman comes up and axes her for a partner; and somethingshe said; but what does he do, but put his arm round her waist and givesher a kiss; and, ye see, the other girls laughed hearty, because theysay, Mary's so proud and high, and thinking herself above them all. Philwasn't there at the time; but he heerd it afterwards, and come up tothe tent, as young Mr. Leslie was laving it, and stood before him andwouldn't let him pass. 'I've a word to say to ye,' says Phil, andhe scarce able to spake with passion; 'that was my sister ye had theimpudence to take a liberty with.' 'Out of the way, ye bogtrotter,' saysLeslie: them's the very words he said; 'out of the way, ye bog-trotter,or I'll lay my whip across your shoulders.' 'Take that first,' saysPhil; and he put his fist between his two eyes, neat and clean;--downwent the Squire as if he was shot. You know the rest yourselves. Theboys didn't lose any time, and if 'twas only two hours later, maybe theJoyces would have got as good as they gave."
A heavy groan from poor Owen now stopped the conversation, and theyhalted to ascertain if he were worse,--but no; he seemed still sunk inthe same heavy sleep as before, and apparently unconscious of all abouthim. Such, however, was not really the case; by some strange phenomenonof sickness, the ear had taken in each low and whispered word, at thetime it would have been deaf to louder sounds; and every syllable theyhad spoken had already sunk deeply into his heart; happily for him, thiswas hut a momentary pang; the grief stunned him at once, and he becameinsensible.
It was dark night as they reached the lonely cabin where Owen lived,miles away from any other dwelling, and standing at an elevation ofmore than a thousand feet above the plain. The short, sharp barking of asheep-dog was the only sound that welcomed them; for the old man had notheard of his son's misfortune until long after they quitted the fair.The door was hasped and fastened with a stick; precaution enough in sucha place, and for all that it contained, too. Opening this, they c
arriedthe young man in, and laid him upon the bed; and, while some busiedthemselves in kindling a fire upon the hearth, the others endeavoured,with such skill as they possessed, to dress his wounds, an operationwhich, if not strictly surgical in all its details, had at least therecommendation of tolerable experience in such matters.
"It's a nate little place when you're at it, then," said one of them, aswith a piece of lighted bog-pine he took a very leisurely and accurateview of the interior.
The opinion, however, must be taken by the reader, as rather reflectingon the judgment of him who