Читать книгу The Emigrants Of Ahadarra - William Carleton - Страница 10

“'Oh, 'twas in the month of May,

When the lambkins sport and play,

As I walked out to gain raycrayation,

I espied a comely maid.

Sequestrin' in the shade—

On her beauty I gazed wid admiraytion,'

No, Pether, you never could; the Mullins is good men—right good men, but they couldn't do it.”

“Barney,” said the brother of the bridegroom, “you may thank God that Pether is going to be married to your sisther to-morrow as you say, or we'd larn you another lesson—eh, masther? That's the chat too—ha! ha! ha! To the divil wid sich impedence!”

“Gintlemen,” said Finigan, now staggering down towards the parties, “I am a man of pacific principles, acquainted wid the larned languages, wid mathematics, wid philosophy, the science of morality according to Fluxions—I grant you, I'm not college-bred; but, gintlemen, I never invied the oysther in its shell—for, gintlemen, I'm not ashamed of it, but I acquired—I absorbed my laming, I may say, upon locomotive principles.”

“Bravo, masther!” said Keenan; “that's what some o' them couldn't say—”

“Upon locomotive principles. I admit Munster, gintlemen—glorious Kerry!—yes, and I say I am not ashamed of it. I do plead guilty to the peripatetic system: like a comet I travelled during my juvenile days—as I may truly assert wid a slight modicum of latitude” (here he lurched considerably to the one side)—“from star to star, until I was able to exhibit all their brilliancy united simply, I can safely assert, in my own humble person. Gintlemen, I have the honor of being able to write 'Philomath' after my name—which is O'Finigan, not Finigan, by any means—and where is the oyster in his shell could do that? Yes, and although they refused me a sizarship in Trinity College—for what will not fear and envy do?

“'Tantaene animis celesiibus irae'

Yet I have the consolation to know that my name is seldom mentioned among the literati of classical Kerry—nudis cruribus as they are—except as the Great O'Finigan! In the mane time—”

“Bravo, Masther!” exclaimed Keenan, interrupting him. “Here, Ted! another bottle, till the Great O'Finigan gets a glass of whiskey.”

“Yes, gintlemen,” proceeded O'Finigan, “the alcohol shall be accepted, puris naturalibus—which means, in its native—or more properly—but which comes to the same thing—in its naked state; and, in the mane time, I propose the health of one of my best benefactors—Gerald Cavanagh, whose hospitable roof is a home—a domicilium to erudition and respectability, when they happen, as they ought, to be legitimately concatenated in the same person—as they are in your humble servant; and I also beg leave to add the pride of the barony, his fair and virtuous daughter, Kathleen, in conjunction wid the I accomplished son of another benefactor of mine—honest James Burke—in conjunction, I say, wid his son, Mr. Hyacinth. Ah, gintlemen—Billy Clinton, you thievin' villain! you don't pay attention; I say, gintlemen, if I myself could deduct a score of years from the period of my life, I should endeavor to run through the conjugations of amo in society wid that pearl of beauty. In the mane time—”

“Here's her health, masther,” returned Keenan, “an' her father's too, an' Hycy Burke's into the bargain—is there any more o' them? Well, no matter.” Then turning to his antagonist, he added, “I say agin, thin, that a Mullin's not a match for a Keenan, nor never was—no, nor never will be! That's the chat! and who's afeard to say it? eh, masther?”

“It's a lie!” shouted one of the opposite party; “I'm able to lick e'er a Keenan that ever went on nate's leather—an' that's my chat.”

A blow from Keenan in reply was like a spark to gunpowder. In a moment the cavern presented a scene singularly tragic-comic; the whole party was one busy mass of battle, with the exception of Ted and Batt, and the wife of the latter, who, having first hastily put aside everything that might be injured, stood enjoying the conflict with most ferocious glee, the schoolmaster having already withdrawn himself to his chair. Even Barney Broghan, the fool, could not keep quiet, but on the contrary, thrust himself into the quarrel, and began to strike indiscriminately at all who came in his way, until an unlucky blow on the nose happening, to draw his claret very copiously, he made a bound up behind the sill, uttering a series of howlings, as from time to time he looked at his own blood, that were amusing in the extreme. As it happened, however, the influence of liquor was too strong upon both parties to enable them to inflict on each other any serious injury. Such, however, was the midnight pastime of the still-house when our friend Hycy entered.

“What in the devil's name—or the guager's—which is worse—” he asked, addressing himself to Batt and Teddy, “is the meaning of all this?”

“Faith, you know a'most as much about it,” replied Hogan, laughing, “as we do; they got drunk, an' that accounts for it.”

“Mr. Burke,” said Finigan, who was now quite tipsy; “I am delighted to be able to—to—yes, it is he,” he added, speaking to himself—“to see you well.”

“I have my doubts as to that, Mr. Finigan,” replied Hycy.

“Fame, Mr. Burke,” continued the other, “has not been silent with regard to your exploits. Your horsemanship, sir, and the trepid pertinacity with which you fasten upon the reluctant society of men of rank, have given you a notorious celebrity, of which your worthy father, honest Jemmy, as he is called, ought to be justly proud. And you shine, Mr. Burke, in the loves as well as in the—tam veneri quam—I was about to add Marti, but it would be inappropriate, or might only remind you of poor Biddy Martin. It is well known you are a most accomplished gintleman, Mr. Burke—homo fadus ad unguem—ad unguem.”

Hycy would have interrupted the schoolmaster, but that he felt puzzled as to whether he spoke seriously or ironically; his attention besides was divided between him and the party in conflict.

“Come,” said he, addressing Hogan and Teddy, “put an end to this work, and why did you, you misbegotten vagabond,” he added, turning to the latter, “suffer these fellows to remain here when you knew I was to come up?”

“I must shell my fwisky,” replied Teddy, sullenly, “fwhedher you come or stay.”

“If you don't clear the place of them instantly,” replied Hycy, “I shall return home again.”

Hogan seemed a good deal alarmed at this intimation, and said—“Ay, indeed, Terry, we had better put them out o' this.”

“Fwhor fwhat?” asked Teddy, “dere my best customers shure—an' fwlay would I quarrel wid 'em all fwor wan man?”

“Good-night, then, you misshapen ruffian,” said Burke, about to go.

“Aisy, Mr. Burke,” said. Hogan; “well soon make short work wid them. Here, Ted, you devil's catch-penny, come an' help me! Hillo, here!” he shouted, “what are you at, you gallows crew? Do you want to go to the stone jug, I say? Be off out o' this—here's the guager, blast him, an' the sogers! Clear out, I tell you, or every mother's son of you will sleep undher the skull and cross-bones to-night.” (* Meaning the County Prison)

“Here you, Barney,” whispered Teddy, who certainly did not wish that Burke should return as he came; “here, you great big fwhool you, give past your yowlin' dere—and lookin' at your blood—run out dere, come in an' shout the gauger an' de sogers.”

Barney, who naturally imagined that the intelligence was true, complied with the order he had received in a spirit of such alarming and dreadful earnestness, that a few minutes found the still-house completely cleared of the two parties, not excepting Hogan himself, who, having heard nothing of Teddy's directions to the fool, took it now for granted that that alarm was a real one, and ran along with the rest. The schoolmaster had fallen asleep, Kate Hogan was engaged in making preparations for supper at the lower end of the casern, and the fool had been dispatched to fetch Hogan himself back, so that Hycy now saw there was a good opportunity for stating at more length than he could in the market the purpose of his visit.

“Teddy,” said he, “now that the coast's clear, let us lose no time in coming to the point. You are aware that Bryan M'Mahon has come into the mountain farm of Ahadarra by the death of his uncle.”

“Shiss; dese three years.”

“You will stick to your cursed brogue,” said the other; “however, that's your own affair. You are aware of this?”

“I am.”

“Well, I have made my mind up to take another turn at this,” and he tapped the side of the still with his stick; “and I'll try it there. I don't know a better place, and it is much more convenient than this.”

Teddy looked at him from under his brows, but seemed rather at a loss to comprehend his meaning.

“Fwor fhy 'ud you go to Ahadarra?”

“It's more convenient, and quite as well adapted for it as this place, or nearly.”

“Well! Shiss, well?”

“Well; why that's all I have to say about it, except that I'm not to be seen or known in the business at all—mark that.”

“Shiss—well? De Hogans must know it?”

“I am aware of that; we couldn't go on without them. This running of your's will soon be over; very well. You can go to Ahadarra to-morrow and pitch upon a proper situation for a house. These implements will do.”

“No, dey won't; I wouldn't tink to begin at all wid dat ould skillet. You must get de Hogans to make a new Still, Head and Worm, an' dat will be money down.”

“Very well; I'll provide the needful; let Philip call to me in a day or two.”

“Dat Ahadarra isn't so safe,” said Teddy. “Fwhy wouldn't you carry it on here?” and he accompanied the query with a piercing-glance as he spoke.

“Because,” replied Hycy, “I have been seen here too often already, and my name must not in any way be connected with your proceedings. This place, besides, is now too much known. It's best and safest to change our bob, Ted.”

“Dere's trewt in dhat, anyhow,” said the other, now evidently more satisfied as to Hycy's motive in changing. “But,” he added, “as you is now to schange, it 'ud be gooder to shange to some better place nor Ahadarra.”

“I know of none better or safer,” said Burke.

“Ay, fifty,” returned his companion, resuming his suspicious looks; “but no matther, any way you must only plaise yerself—'tis all the shame to me.”

“Ahadarra it must be then,” said the other, “and that ends it.”

“Vary well, den, Ahadarra let her be,” said Ted, and the conversation on this subject dropped.

The smuggler's supper now made it's appearance. The geese were beautifully done, and as Hycy's appetite had got a keen stimulus by his mountain walk, he rendered them ample justice.

“Trot,” said Teddy, “sich a walk as you had droo de mountains was enough to sharpen anybody's appetite.”

Hogan also plied him with punch, having provided himself with sugar for that express purpose. Hycy, however, was particularly cautious, and for a long time declined to do more than take a little spirits and water. It was not, in fact, until he had introduced the name of Kathleen Cavanagh that he consented to taste punch. Between the two, however, Burke's vanity was admirably played on; and Hogan wound up the dialogue by hinting that Hycy, no matter how appearances might go, was by no means indifferent to the interesting daughter of the house of Cavanagh.

At length, when the night was far advanced, Burke rose, and taking his leave like a man who had forgotten some appointment, but with a very pompous degree of condescension, sought his way in the direction of home, across the mountains.

He had scarcely gone, when Hogan, as if struck by a sudden recollection, observed as he thought it would be ungenerous to allow him, at that hour of the night, to cross the mountains by himself. He accordingly whispered a few words to his wife, and left them with an intention, as he said, to see Mr. Hycy safe home.