CHAPTER IX. THE MARTIN ARMS

  In the small and not over-neat parlor of the Martin Arms at Oughterard,a young man sat at his breakfast, at times casting his eyes over thecolumns of the "Vindicator," and anon strolling to the window to watchthe gathering of the country people at the weekly market. The scenewas one of that mingled bustle and languor so characteristically Irish.Cart-loads of turf, vegetables, fruit, or turkeys blocked up the narrowpassage between booths of fancy wares, gilt jewelry, crockery, andcutlery; the vendors all eagerly vociferating commendations of theirstores, in chorus with still more clamorous beggars, or the discordantnotes of vagrant minstrelsy. Some animal monstrosity, announced by acracked-voiced herald and two clarionets, added to a din to which loudlaughter contributed its share of uproar.

  The assemblage was entirely formed of the country people, many of whommade the pretext of having a pig or a lamb to sell the reason oftheir coming; but, in reality, led thither by the native love of agathering,--that fondness to be where their neighbors were,--withoutany definite aim or object. There was, then, in strong contrast to theanxious solicitation of all who had aught to sell, the dreary, languid,almost apathetic look of the mere lounger, come to while away his wearyhour and kill time just like any very bored fine gentleman who airs hislistlessness along St James's Street, or lazily canters his _ennui_ downRotten Row.

  Jack Massingbred--for he was the traveller whose straw hat and knapsackstood upon a table near--was amused at a scene so full of its nativecharacteristics. The physiognomy, the dress, the bearing of the people,their greetings as they met, their conduct of a bargain, all bespoke anation widely differing from the sister country, and set him a-dreamingas to how it was that equality of laws might very possibly establishanything but equality of condition amongst people so dissimilar.

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  While thus musing, his eye chanced to rest upon the half-effacedinscription over a shop door in front, and where the name of DanielNelligan figured as "licensed for all kinds of groceries and spirits.""Nelligan," repeated he to himself, "I shall certainly quiz my friendJoe, when we meet, about his namesake in Oughterard. How good it wouldbe to pick up some details of our friend opposite to torment him with!What rare fun to affect to have discovered a near relative in this manof hides, glue, sugar, and Jamaica rum! Eh, gad, I'll try it." And withthis resolve he crossed the street at once, and soon found himself inthe compact crowd which thronged the doorway of this popular shop.

  It was, indeed, a busy scene, since many who were there came as muchsellers as buyers, giving all the complexity of barter to their severaltransactions. Here was a staid country-woman exchanging her spunyarn, orher "cloth," as it is called, for various commodities in tea, candles,and such like; here a farmer, with a sample of seed-oats in hispocket-handkerchief, of which he wanted the value in certain farmutensils; here was another, with a stout roll of home-made frieze todispose of; some were even fain to offer a goose or a hen as the mediumfor a little tobacco, or some equally tempting luxury of cottier life.But there was another class of customers, who, brushing their waythrough the throng, made for a small, dingy-looking chamber behindthe shop, in which Mr. Nelligan performed the functions of banker andmoney-lender, discounting small bills, advancing loans, and transactingall the various duties of a petty capitalist,--means by which, it wasalleged, he had already amassed a very ample fortune.

  An announcement in writing on the glass door of this sanctum informedMassingbred that "bank-notes" were exchanged, and "small loans advancedon good security," suggesting to him at once the means of opening anacquaintance with the interior. Without any very definite purpose,however, he now found himself one of a very closely packed crowd withinthe chamber. At a small desk, around which ran a railing of about a footin height, serving, as it were, to "filter the stream" of solicitationthat poured in upon him, sat a dark-eyed, bilious-looking man of aboutfifty; a black wig, cut in two deep arches over the temples, showeda strongly formed, massive head, very favorably in contrast to thefeatures beneath it, which were only indicative of intense shrewdnessand cunning. The eyes, in particular, were restless and furtive-looking,distrust and suspicion giving their entire expression,--qualities, itwas to be owned, in very active employment in the intercourse of hisdaily life.

  The anxious looks around him--careworn, eager, tremulous with anxietyas they were--seemed the very opposite to his own, full of the securitythat a strong purse bestows, and stern in the conscious strength of hisaffluence.

  "It won't do, Hagan," said he, with a half-smile, as he pushed backthrough the grating a very dirty, discolored piece of paper. "You 'llbe off to America before it comes due. I would n't take theLord-Lieutenant's note at six months, as times go."

  "See, now, Mr. Nelligan," replied the other, pressing his face closeto the cage, and talking with intense eagerness. "May I never seeChristmas, but I 'll pay it 'T was marryin' the daughter left me low incash; but with the blessing of God and your help--"

  "I hope you 're more certain of the blessing than the help. What'sthis with the string round it?" continued Nelligan, addressing anotherapplicant.

  "'T is a roll of notes I wanted to ax your honor about. Molly never 'leton' she had them till Friday last; and now that James is going away, andwants a trifle to fit him out--"

  "Why, they're French's Bank, man, that broke years ago,--they 're notworth a farthing!"

  "Arrah, don't say so, and God reward you," cried the poor fellow, whilehis eyes filled up and his lip trembled convulsively; "don't take thehope out of my heart all at onst. Look at them again, your honor, andmaybe you 'll think different."

  "If I did, I 'd be as great a fool as yourself, Patsy. The bank isclosed, and the banker dead this many a day; and I would n't giveyou sixpence for sixty thousand of them. Take him out in the freshair,--give him a mouthful of water," added he, hastily, as the wretchedcountryman staggered back, sick, and almost fainting with the sadtidings.

  "Mrs. Mooney," said he, addressing a pale, mild-featured woman in awidow's cap and black gown, "you can't expect to hear from Dublin for aweek or ten days to come. It takes some time to administer; but if youare in want of a few pounds--"

  "No, sir, thank you," said she, in a low voice; "but as I can't go backto the place again,--as I 'll never be able to live there now--"

  "Don't be in a hurry, Mrs. Mooney, do nothing rash. None of us know whatwe can do till we 're tried. There's Miles Dogherty never thought he 'dbe paying me that eight pound fifteen he owes me, and see now if he isn't come with it to-day."

  "Faix, and I am not," sturdily responded a very powerfully built man inthe comfortable dress of a substantial farmer. "I don't owe it, andI 'll never pay it; and what's more, if you get a decree against meto-morrow, I'd sell every stick and stone in the place and go to 'Quaybec'."

  "Indeed you would n't, Miles, not a bit more than I'd go and take thelaw of an old friend and neighbor."

  "Faix, I never thought you would," said the stout man, wiping hisforehead, and appearing as if he had forgotten his wrath.

  "And now, Miles, what about that water-course?" said Nelligan,good-humoredly; "are you content to leave it to any two fair men--"

  As he got thus far, his eye for the first time fell upon Massingbred,who, with folded arms, was leaning against a wall, an attentivespectator of the whole scene.

  "That is a stranger yonder! what can he want here?" said Nelligan, whowatched the attentive look of Massingbred's face with considerabledistrust. He whispered a few words into the ear of a man beside him,who, making his way through the crowd, addressed the young man with--

  "It's the master, sir, wants to know if he could do anything for yourhonor?"

  "For _me?_ oh, you spoke to _me?_" said Massingbred, suddenly recalledto himself. "Yes, to be sure; I wanted to know--that is, I wasthinking--" And he stopped to try and remember by what device he hadpurposed making Mr. Nelligan's acquaintance.

  While he thus stood doubting and confused, his eyes suddenly met theblack, searching, deep-set orbs t
hat peered at him behind the grating;and without knowing how or why, he slowly approached him.

  "In what way can I be of any use to you, sir?" said Nelligan, in a tonewhich very palpably demanded the reason of his presence there.

  Jack Massingbred was eminently "cool,"--that is, he was possessed ofthat peculiar assurance which rarely suffers itself to be ruffled by adifficulty. In the intercourse of society, and with men of the world, hecould have submitted to any test unabashed; and yet now, in presence ofthis shrewd-looking and very commonplace personage, he, somehow, feltmarvellously ill at ease, and from the simple reason that the man beforewhom he stood was not of his "world," but one of a set of whose habitsand thoughts and ways he was in utter ignorance.

  Nelligan's question was a second time addressed to him, and in the samewords, before he thought of framing a reply to it. For a second or twoit occurred to him to say that he had strolled in, half inadvertently,and apologizing for the intrusion, to withdraw; but his pride wasoffended at the notion of defeat this conduct implied, and with anassumption of that conventional impudence far more natural to him, hesaid,--

  "It was your name, sir, attracted me--the name 'Nelligan' which I readover your door--being that of a very dear and valued friend of mine,suggested to me to inquire whether you might not be relatives."

  The cool indifference which accompanied these words, uttered as theywere in a certain languid drawl, were very far from predisposingNelligan in favor of the speaker; while the pretence of attachingany singularity to a name so common as his own, struck him at once asindicative of covert impertinence.

  "Nelligan is not a very remarkable name down here, sir," dryly respondedhe.

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

  The words, "a college friend," roused the other's anxiety, and leaningforward 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, almostbreathless in his anxiety.

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

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

  Massingbred's astonishment did not betray itself by any change offeature; not a word escaped him; but his eye ranged over the scenearound him, and came back to rest upon old Nelligan's face with anexpression of the calmest meaning.

  "What a fortunate accident--for _me_, I mean," continued he. "Joe andI are very dear friends, and it is a great happiness for me to makehis father's acquaintance. Is he with you now?" "No, sir; he's at thesea,--a place called Kilkieran, about twenty miles away; but we 'll havehim back by tomorrow if you 'll stay with us, and I 'm sure you 'll notrefuse me that pleasure. The young gentleman who is my son's friend, ismine also, if he 'll permit me to call him so; and now just tell me whatname shall I say?--who is it that I 'm to tell Joe has arrived here?"

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

  "And now, Mr. Massingbred, just take up your quarters with us. Where areyou stopping? I 'll send over the boy for your trunks, for I need n'tsay that this must be your home while you stay at Oughterard." Thegenial tone of warm hospitality in which he now spoke made him seema very different man from the hard-featured old money-lender he hadappeared when Jack first beheld him, and Massingbred returned hiscordial shake hands with a pressure equal to his own, while he said,--

  "Be assured that I accept your offer most heartily. My whole baggage isa knapsack and a fishing-rod, so that if you admit me as your guest youmust dispense with all beyond the very humblest requirements. I have nocoat, except this on me; and, when I brush my hair, I have dressed fordinner."

  "You are amongst very humble people, Mr. Massingbred,--a countryshopkeeper, and his wife, and son,--and they 'll be only too happy tofeel that you don't despise their company. Come, and I 'll show you yourroom." And so saying, Nelligan led him up a narrow stair, and at theend of a corridor opened a door into a neatly furnished chamber, whichlooked out into a spacious garden. The whole interior was scrupulouslyclean and comfortable; and as Jack surveyed his new dominions, heinwardly blessed his good fortune that had piloted him into such ahaven.

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

  Whatever savored of an adventure was the delight of Jack Massingbred.He was one of those men whose egotism takes the shape of playing hero tothemselves,--a tolerably large category amongst the spoiled childrenof this world. To be thrown into any strange or novel position, withassociates he was unused to, and amidst circumstances totally unlike allhe had ever met before, was his great happiness; and although here therewas nothing like actual peril to heighten the zest of the enjoyment,there was a certain dash of embarrassment in the situation thatincreased its piquancy. This embarrassment lay in his approachingmeeting with young Nelligan.

  All the reserve his young college friend had maintained with regard tohis family was at once explained; and Jack began to think over howoften it must have occurred to him to say the most galling and offensivethings in his ignorance of Nelligan's real station. "If he had beenfrank and open with me," said he to himself, "this would never havehappened." But therein Jack made two errors, since Nelligan was in nowise bound to make such revelations, nor was Massingbred the man todistinguish himself amongst his associates by a close friendship withthe son of a country shopkeeper. He had been trained in a very differentschool, and taught to estimate his own station by the standard ofhis companionship. Indeed, he had witnessed the lenity which met histransgressions when they occurred in high company, and saw his fatherpay the debts he had contracted amongst titled associates with a farmore generous forgiveness than had they taken their origin withmore plebeian friends. "What could have induced the man to become aFellow-Commoner," said he, over and over; "it is such a palpable pieceof presumption?" The truth was, Jack felt excessively irritated at neverhaving even suspected his friend's pretensions, and was eager to throwthe blame of a deception where none had ever been practised.

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

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

  The embarrassments of selfish men are always lighter than those of otherpeople, their egotism filling, as it does, such a very large space inthe sea of their troubles. Thus was it that Massingbred suffered littlediscomfort at the thought of his friend Nelligan's probable shame andawkwardness, his thoughts being occupied by how he, clever fellow thathe was, had traced out his home and origin,--won, by a few words, theold father's esteem, and established himself, by his own sharp wits, aguest of his house.

  "It is a downright adventure," said he; he even thought how thething would tell afterwards at some convivial meeting, and set aboutdramatizing to himself his own part in the incident, to heighten thepiquancy of the narrative. He
resolved to conform in everything to thehabits of the household,--to accommodate himself in all respects toold Nelligan's tastes, so that Joe should actually be amazed at theversatile resources of his nature, and struck with astonishment at thisnew evidence of his powers.

  Nor was Mr. Nelligan idle during all this time; the thought of a fellowcollegian of his son Joe being a guest under his roof was a very proudand inspiring reflection. It was such a recognition of Joe's socialclaims,--so flat a contradiction to all the surmises of those whodeprecated his college life, and said "that old Dan was wrong to puthis boy into Trinity"--that he already regarded the incident as the fullearnest of success.

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

  "Who will I get to dine with us," thought he, "since Joe can't havethe letter before this evening, and do his best he won't be here beforemorning?" The question of those who should fill the places around hisboard was a difficulty he had never experienced before, for Mr. Nelliganwas the first man in Oughterard, and never had any trouble about hisdinner company. His politics--very decided as they were--drew the lineamongst his acquaintances, and the Liberal party well knew that theyalone were the partakers of his hospitalities. There now, however, camethe thought that the most respectable residents of the town--Dr. Dasy,of the Infirmary; Mr. Scanlan, the Attorney; and Morris Croft, theAdjutant of the Galway------were Conservatives. These were thefit company to meet young Massingbred, at least for the first day;afterwards, he might be introduced to their own set. And yet, FatherNeal 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 infavor 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 allthe conflicting interests. "A good dinner, some excellent port wine, and'lashings' of whiskey-punch, might mould the ingredients together--atleast, when under the restraint of a stranger's presence--sufficientlyto pass muster!"

  From his doubts as to how the experiment would succeed, came othersas to whether the guests would condescend to meet; and thus hisembarrassments went on increasing around him without his finding a waythrough 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 lookin his eyes.

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

  "A nob?" said the other, with a wink.

  Nelligan nodded assent and went on,--

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

  "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 welcomeyou 'd get, for they 've never seen the inside of Cro' Martin since thedetachment 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 ofcoming there."

  "What do you say to Peter Hayes, then?" said the other. "If you mean todo the civil thing, you'll ask him before he buys that old highwaymanof a goose he's cheapening yonder; and there's Father Rafferty in thesnuff-shop, and Tom Magennis, and myself-, and that makes six, just theright 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'trefrain. And I need n't tell you that English notions are not ours uponthese 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 theEstablished 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 borrowa 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 awkwardgrimace, and walked hurriedly on to overtake a tall and very fat manthat was just turning the corner of the street. This was Father NealRafferty. A very flourishing wave of his reverence's hand, and an urbanebend of his body, betokened the gracious acceptance he gave to theother's invitation; and Brierley walked away, muttering to himself:"They may thank me for this dinner, then; for old Dan was going to feedthe 'swells,' if I had n't stopped him."