Home > Authors Index > William H. G. Kingston > Ben Burton > This page
Ben Burton, a fiction by William H. G. Kingston |
||
Chapter 12 |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER TWELVE My mother's good looks, amiable disposition, and reputed fortune raised up a host of admirers, greatly to her annoyance, for she had, or fully thought she had, made up her mind to live a widow; or at all events, as she told my Aunt Ellen, if she married anyone it should be a sailor, in respect to my father's memory. I liked Ellen more than any of my other relations. She was more like my mother than the rest of her sisters. She had much of my mother's beauty, though with more animal spirits, and was altogether on a larger scale, as I think I have said. She was engaged to marry a certain Mr Pat Kilcullin, who I heard was a gentleman of property some distance further west; and that he had a real castle and a good estate, somewhat encumbered to be sure, as became his old family and position. How many hundreds or thousands a year it might once have produced I do not know; but as he and his father before him, and his grandfather, and other remote ancestors had generally taken care to spend double their income, it could not but be supposed that he and they were occasionally in difficulties. As, however, his father had lived, so my intended uncle purposed living also. I will not describe the wedding further than to say that my grandfather was nearly out and out ruined by it. He and his guests all got gloriously drunk. Mr Gillooly and Tim Laffan fell out about my mother, and came to blows in her presence. They were separated by two of the other guests--a certain Dan Hogan, a good-looking exciseman, who was also a suitor for her hand, and Captain Michael Tracy, the master of a merchantman, who had lately come home after a few successful trading voyages to the West Indies. As he, however, was the most sober of the party, he came worst off in the fray, and had not my mother come to his rescue with the aid of her sisters, he would, I have an idea, have been severely handled. Whether or not he was touched by this exhibition of her courage I do not know; but he certainly from that day forward became her warm admirer, and certainly if she showed a preference to anyone it was to him. I did not suppose I had so many relations in the world as turned up at that feast, of high and low degree: the greater number, however, it must be confessed, were of the latter rank. The bride looked beautiful, and the bridegroom in the height of his feelings invited all the guests to pay him a visit that day fortnight at Ballyswiggan Castle. The bridegroom was taken at his word, and though I rather think my Aunt Ellen might have been somewhat annoyed, there was no means of escaping. My mother was, however, unwilling to be present at so uproarious a scene as she knew pretty well was likely to take place; but my grandfather and her sisters insisted upon her accompanying them, and of course I went with her. Some of the guests, however, were not likely to make their appearance, and for the best of reasons Mr Laffan and Dan Hogan could not be present, as it was well-known that no lawyer nor exciseman had ever ventured to set foot in the district in which Ballyswiggan Castle was situated. Most of the guests went on horseback, as the approach was scarcely suited to wheeled carriages. My grandmother was too infirm to move, but my grandfather mounted a rawboned back which had carried him in his younger days, and my aunts and mother rode on their rough ponies. Pat Brady, who, finding himself so happy on shore, had put off going to sea, and I rode together on a beast which we had borrowed for the occasion. Ballyswiggan Castle was situated amidst fine wild scenery within sound of the roar of the mighty Atlantic. The building itself was in a somewhat dilapidated condition, but exhibited signs of having been once a place of importance. Some out-houses had likewise been strewn with fresh straw to afford sleeping accommodation to a portion of the guests who could not find room within, while sheds and barns had been cleared out for the reception of their steeds. "Ye are welcome to Ballyswiggan, by my faith ye are!" exclaimed Uncle Pat, as our party arrived, a sentiment which was uttered by Aunt Ellen without any pretension to mock modesty, while she laughed heartily at the complimentary remarks which were passed on her good looks and high spirits. "Small blame to Rincurran Castle if I am not after getting somewhat stouter here than I did under my paternal roof," she answered, intending to allude simply to the meagre fare of her ancestral mansion, though from the giggles of some of the ladies, I rather suspect they put a different interpretation upon the remark. To say the truth, Ballyswiggan Castle had been stored with all sorts of provisions, and no end of casks of whisky, so that there appeared little chance of the guests starving or having to suffer from dry throats. We, with other visitors from a distance, arrived the day before the dinner and ball were to take place. On that morning, Peter Crean, steward and factotum to my uncle, awoke him with the news that a ship of war was beating into the Bay, "And sure," he observed, "it would be a fine opportunity, Mr Kilcullin, to show your loyalty and love to His Majesty's government, to invite the officers. They will make a fine show in the ball-room too, with their gold lace coats, and white breeches, and may be may make some of the gentlemen jealous, and just bring matters to a close, which have been kept off and on for some months past. The mothers will be pleased, and the girls will be thanking you from the bottom of their hearts." This sage advice was instantly followed by my uncle, who, habiting himself in his wedding suit, ordered his horse that he might ride down to the Bay, and be early on board to give the proposed invitation. There were no fears about it being accepted, and, as may be supposed, it formed the subject of conversation at the breakfast-table when it was announced where my uncle had gone. His return was accordingly looked for with no little anxiety, especially by the young ladies of the party, including my three spinster aunts. Mr Kilcullin was not very long absent. "They will all come!" he exclaimed, throwing up his hat, "and faith, they're a fine set of gentlemen. She is a frigate, they tell me, but her name has escaped me, and it is my belief they will toe and heel it with the best of you, gentlemen, and may do something towards breaking the hearts of some of you young ladies. However, we will do our best to make them welcome, for the honour of ould Ireland." As the hour of dinner approached, the guests began to arrive in considerable numbers; and carts, and cars, and waggons came bumping and thumping over the uneven path, though the greater part made their appearance on horseback. I was looking out of a window which commanded the approach to the castle, when I saw coming along the road a large party of naval officers, whose well-known uniform I at once recognised as they drew nearer, and I fancied I knew two of those who led the way. On they came; I could not be mistaken. There were Captain Oliver and Lieutenant Schank, and several other officers and midshipmen whom I remembered on board the "Grecian". I ran to my poor mother with delight to tell her this. She turned pale, recollecting the sorrow she had gone through when last she saw them. "I cannot face them," she said; "but you go, Ben; they will be glad to see you; I should feel out of place in their company, and though my family may be as good as that of many among them, they knew me under such different circumstances, that I should not like to be sitting at table with them." On hearing my mother make these remarks, I too was seized with a bashful fit, but she insisted on my going down to meet them; and at length mustering courage, I ran downstairs. Captain Oliver did not at first know me, but Mr Schank recognised me at once. "What, Ben, my boy, what brings you here?" he exclaimed. I soon explained that Mr Kilcullin had married my aunt, and that my mother and I were among the guests. "Ah! I always thought she was above her position on board," he observed to Captain Oliver, who, when he found out who I was, shook me warmly by the hand. "Well, Ben, recollect I shall keep to my promise, and when your mother can spare you, I will take you with me." "I hope we shall see her, Ben," observed Mr Schank, kindly; "I should like to shake hands with her." I told him how she felt on the subject. "Oh!" he said, "that cannot signify. Tell her we shall not half enjoy the evening unless she comes down." The officers now arrived in the entrance hall, where my uncle and aunt were standing to welcome their guests. Of course they received them with all due honour. "We're in a wild part of the country, Captain Oliver and gentlemen, but we will show you, at all events, that we have hospitable intentions, however roughly we may carry them out," said my uncle. The great dining-hall was very soon filled, and several adjoining rooms, the guests of inferior quality, of whom there were a good many, making themselves happy in separate parties wherever they could find room to sit down. Among those most active in attending to the wants of the guests, and directing the other serving-men, were Peter Crean and Pat Brady, who was a host in himself, for though second cousin to the bride, he did not at all object to acting the part of a servant. As room was scarce, I was among the picnickers outside. The feast was progressing, when I saw Pat Brady come up to Peter Crean, pulling, for him, a wonderfully long face. "Faith Peter!" I heard him say, "I do not at all like his looks. There's a hang-dog expression about him, and to my mind he's a bailiff in disguise!" "A what?" exclaimed Peter. "Has one of them vipers ventured into the neighbourhood of Ballyswiggan? Faith, then, it would have been better for him had he never seen this part of the country, for it will never do to let him go boasting that he set his foot in it without being discovered. Where is he?" "He is just now outside the gate," answered Pat; "but I told two or three of the boys to keep him talking, and on no account to let him come beyond it. I think they have just got an idea that he will not be altogether a welcome guest." "I have no doubt who he is, then," observed Peter Crean. "I have been expecting him. And, sure, he must not see the master, or he would be spoiling the fun of to-day, and for many a long day afterwards. Here, Pat, you go and talk to him, and I will just make arrangements to receive him." Peter Crean was a man of action. A small room was cleared of visitors, a table prepared with viands and various liquors. This done, Peter hurried out to receive the guest. His suspicions were thoroughly confirmed on his inspection of the man. "Your name, sir," he said, "that I may make you welcome to Ballyswiggan Castle. My master is just now particularly engaged with a few guests, but he will be happy to see you when the wine is on the table; and, in the meantime, you will just come in and satisfy your appetite. You have had a long ride since you took anything to eat, barring maybe the whisky, which is not quite so rare on the road." "My name is Jonas Quelch, at your service," answered the stranger, "and I come from England, though I have been living for some time in Dublin. It's a fine city, that Dublin." "Faith it is, Mr Quelch," observed Crean; "and fine people in it, and rogues in it, and the rogues sometimes come out of it, and when they do they are pretty glad to get back again, for we don't like rogues in these parts, Mr Quelch. But I will not keep you sitting on your horse; that will be taken to the stable, and you will just come in, as I said, and partake of the scanty fare this poor part of the country can afford." He spoke in a satirical tone. Mr Quelch, holding his riding-whip in his hand, as if for defence, followed him into the house. Peter. Crean was, however, all courtesy and attention. He entreated his visitor to make himself at home, and helped him abundantly to the good things in the dishes placed before him, nor did he omit to ply him with whisky. Glass upon glass he induced him to pour down his throat, till I began to wonder how he could swallow so much without inconvenience. He was evidently a hardened vessel. Crean, however, had not yet done with him. He now placed before him a flagon of claret. "Faith, this is the stuff for a gentleman," he observed. "You may just empty the bottle, and feel none the worse, but rather much the better than when you began." The stranger, nothing loath, followed the advice of the steward. By degrees, however, Mr Quelch's speech became thick, and his conversation more and more incoherent. Crean watched him with a wicked look in his eyes, continuing to press the liquor more and more warmly upon him. "Come, now, Mr Quelch, just let's begin another bottle. I have always found, where one bottle confuses a man's head, a second one puts him all to rights again. Now, I should not be surprised but that you are beginning to feel a little fuddled." "You are right, friend," answered Mr Quelch, though the words were jerked out in a manner indicative of his state. "Just so; and, now, follow my advice. Take the other bottle to cure you. We never like a stranger to come to this part of old Ireland without showing him due hospitality." Mr Quelch, unaccustomed to claret, drank it as he would beer, and before he had finished the second bottle, on the top of almost an equal quantity of whisky, his head began to nod, and finally it dropped down on the table, where he let it remain, completely overcome. _ |
||