The Absentee (37 page)

Count O'Halloran replied, as if the words had been addressed to him—

'Lady Dashfort is in England.'

'I know it, sir; she is in London,' said Mr. Reynolds, hastily. 'What do
you know of her?'

'I know, sir, that she is not likely to return to Ireland, and that
I am; and so is my young friend here; and if the thing can be
accomplished, we will get it done for you.'

Lord Colambre joined in this promise, and added that, 'if the dog
could be obtained, he would undertake to have him safely sent over to
England.'

'Sir—gentlemen! I'm much obliged; that is, when you have done the
thing I shall be much obliged. But, maybe, you are only making me civil
speeches!'

'Of that, sir,' said the count, smiling with much temper, 'your own
sagacity and knowledge of the world must enable you to judge.'

'For my own part, I can only say,' cried Lord Colambre, 'that I am
not in the habit of being reproached with saying one thing and meaning
another.'

'Hot! I see,' said old Reynolds, nodding, as he looked at Lord Colambre.
'Cool!' added he, nodding at the count. 'But a time for everything; I
was hot once—both answers good, for their ages.'

This speech Lord Colombre and the count tacitly agreed to consider as
another APART, which they were not to hear, or seem to hear. The count
began again on the business of their visit, as he saw that Lord Colambre
was boiling with impatience, and feared that he should BOIL OVER, and
spoil all. The count commenced with—

'Mr. Reynolds, your name sounds to me like the name of a friend; for
I had once a friend of that name; I had once the pleasure (and a very
great pleasure it was to me) to be intimately acquainted abroad, on the
Continent, with a very amiable and gallant youth—your son!'

'Take care, sir,' said the old man, starting up from his chair,
and instantly sinking down again—'take care! Don't mention him to
me—unless you would strike me dead on the spot!'

The convulsed motions of his fingers and face worked for some moments;
whilst the count and Lord Colambre, much shocked and alarmed, stood in
silence.

The convulsed motions ceased; and the old man unbuttoned his waistcoat,
as if to relieve some sense of expression; uncovered his gray hairs;
and, after leaning back to rest himself, with his eyes fixed, and
in reverie for a few moments, he sat upright again in his chair, and
exclaimed, as he looked round—

'Son!—Did not somebody say that word? Who is so cruel to say that word
before me? Nobody has ever spoken of him to me—but once, since his
death! Do you know, sir,' said he, fixing his eyes on Count O'Halloran,
and laying his cold hand on him, 'do you know where he was buried, I ask
you, sir? do you remember how he died?'

'Too well! too well!' cried the count, so much affected as to be
scarcely able to pronounce the words; 'he died in my arms; I buried him
myself!'

'Impossible!' cried Mr. Reynolds. 'Why do you say so, sir?' said
he, studying the count's face with a sort of bewildered earnestness.
'Impossible! His body was sent over to me in a lead coffin; and I saw it
and I was asked—and I answered, "in the family vault." But the shock is
over,' said he; 'and, gentlemen, if the business of your visit relates
to that subject, I trust I am now sufficiently composed to attend to
you. Indeed, I ought to be prepared; for I had reason, for years, to
expect the stroke; and yet, when it came, it seemed sudden!—it stunned
me—put an end to all my worldly prospects—left me childless, without
a single descendant or relation near enough to be dear to me! I am an
insulated being!'

'No, sir, you are not an insulated being,' said Lord Colambre 'you have
a near relation, who will, who must be dear to you; who will make you
amends for all you have lost, all you have suffered—who will bring
peace and joy to your heart. You have a grand-daughter.'

'No, sir; I have no grand-daughter,' said old Reynolds, his face and
whole form becoming rigid with the expression of obstinacy. 'Rather have
no descendant than be forced to acknowledge an illegitimate child.'

'My lord, I entreat as a friend—I command you to be patient,' said the
count, who saw Lord Colambre's indignation suddenly rise.

'So, then, this is the purpose of your visit,' continued old Reynolds;
'and you come from my enemies, from the St. Omars, and you are in a
league with them,' continued old Reynolds; 'and all this time it is of
my eldest son you have been talking.'

'Yes, sir,' replied the count; 'of Captain Reynolds, who fell in battle,
in the Austrian service, about nineteen years ago—a more gallant and
amiable youth never lived.'

Pleasure revived through the dull look of obstinacy in the father's
eyes.

'He was, as you say, sir, a gallant, an amiable youth, once and he
was my pride, and I loved him, too, once but did not you know I had
another?'

'No, sir, we did not—we are, you may perceive, totally ignorant of your
family and of your affairs we have no connexion whatever or knowledge of
any of the St. Omars.'

'I detest the sound of the name,' cried Lord Colambre.

'Oh, good! good!—Well! well! I beg your pardon, gentlemen, a thousand
times—I am a hasty, very hasty old man; but I have been harassed,
persecuted, hunted by wretches, who got a scent of my gold; often in
my rage I longed to throw my treasure-bags to my pursuers, and bid
them leave me to die in peace. You have feelings, I see, both of you,
gentlemen; excuse me, and bear with my temper.'

'Bear with you! Much enforced, the best tempers will emit a hasty
spark,' said the count, looking at Lord Colambre, who was now cool
again; and who, with a countenance full of compassion, sat with his eyes
fixed upon the poor—no, not the poor, but the unhappy old man.

'Yes, I had another son,' continued Mr. Reynolds, 'and on him all my
affections concentrated when I lost my eldest, and for him I desired to
preserve the estate which his mother brought into my family. Since you
know nothing of my affairs, let me explain to you; that estate was so
settled, that it would have gone to the child, even the daughter of my
eldest son, if there had been a legitimate child. But I knew there
was no marriage, and I held out firm to my opinion. "If there was
a marriage," said I, "show me the marriage certificate, and I will
acknowledge the marriage, and acknowledge the child;" but they could
not, and I knew they could not; and I kept the estate for my darling
boy,' cried the old gentleman, with the exultation of successful
positiveness again appearing strong in his physiognomy; but suddenly
changing and relaxing, his countenance fell, and he added, 'But now I
have no darling boy. What use all!—all must go to the heir-at-law, or
I must will it to a stranger—a lady of quality, who has just found
out she is my relation—God knows how—I'm no genealogist—and sends
me Irish cheese and Iceland moss, for my breakfast, and her
waiting-gentlewoman to namby-pamby me. Oh, I'm sick of it all—see
through it—wish I was blind—wish I had a hiding-place, where
flatterers could not find me—pursued, chased—must change my lodgings
again to-morrow—will, will—I beg your pardon, gentlemen, again; you
were going to tell me, sir, something more of my eldest son; and how I
was led away from the subject, I don't know; but I meant only to have
assured you that his memory was dear to me, till I was so tormented
about that unfortunate affair of his pretended marriage, that at length
I hated to hear him named; but the heir-at-law, at last, will triumph
over me.'

'No, my good sir, not if you triumph over yourself, and do justice,'
cried Lord Colambre; 'if you listen to the truth, which my friend will
tell you, and if you will read and believe the confirmation of it, under
your son's own hand, in this packet.'

'His own hand indeed! His seal unbroken. But how—when where—why was it
kept so long, and how came it into your hands?'

Count O'Halloran told Mr. Reynolds that the packet had been given to him
by Captain Reynolds on his deathbed; related the dying acknowledgment
which Captain Reynolds had made of his marriage; and gave an account
of the delivery of the packet to the ambassador, who had promised to
transmit it faithfully. Lord Colambre told the manner in which it had
been mislaid, and at last recovered from among the deceased ambassador's
papers. The father still gazed at the direction, and re-examined the
seals.

'My son's handwriting—my son's seals! But where is the certificate of
the marriage?' repeated he; 'if it is withinside of this packet, I have
done great IN—but I am convinced it never was a marriage. 'Yet I
wish now it could be proved—only, in that case, I have for years done
great—'

'Won't you open the packet, sir?' said Lord Colambre. Mr. Reynolds
looked up at him with a look that said, 'I don't clearly know what
interest you have in all this.' But, unable to speak, and his hands
trembling so that he could scarcely break the seals, he tore off the
cover, laid the papers before him, sat down, and took breath. Lord
Colambre, however impatient, had now too much humanity to hurry the
old gentleman; he only ran for the spectacles, which he espied on the
chimney-piece, rubbed them bright, and held them ready. Mr. Reynolds
stretched his hand out for them, put them on, and the first paper he
opened was the certificate of the marriage; he read it aloud, and,
putting it down, said—

'Now I acknowledge the marriage. I always said, if there is a marriage
there must be a certificate. And you see now there is a certificate I
acknowledge the marriage.'

'And now,' cried Lord Colambre, 'I am happy, positively happy.
Acknowledge your grand-daughter, sir—acknowledge Miss Nugent.'

'Acknowledge who, sir?'

'Acknowledge Miss Reynolds—your grand-daughter; I ask no more—do what
you will with your fortune.'

'Oh, now I understand—I begin to understand this young gentleman is
in love—but where is my grand-daughter?—how shall I know she is my
grand-daughter? I have not heard of her since she was an infant—I
forgot her existence—I have done her great injustice.'

'She knows nothing of it, sir,' said Lord Colambre, who now entered into
a full explanation of Miss Nugent's history, and of her connexion with
his family, and of his own attachment to her; concluding the whole by
assuring Mr. Reynolds that his grand-daughter had every virtue under
heaven. 'And as to your fortune, sir, I know that she will, as I do,
say—'

'No matter what she will say,' interrupted old Reynolds; 'where is she?
When I see her, I shall hear what she says. Tell me where she is let me
see her. I long to see whether there is any likeness to her poor father.
Where is she? Let me see her immediately.'

'She is one hundred and sixty miles off, sir, at Buxton.'

'Well, my lord, and what is a hundred and sixty miles? I suppose you
think I can't stir from my chair, but you are mistaken. I think
nothing of a journey of a hundred and sixty miles—I'm ready to set off
to-morrow—this instant.'

Lord Colambre said, that he was sure Miss Reynolds would obey her
grandfather's slightest summons, as it was her duty to do, and would be
with him as soon as possible, if this would be more agreeable to him. 'I
will write to her instantly,' said his lordship, 'if you will commission
me.'

'No, my lord, I do not commission—I will go—I think nothing, I say, of
a journey of a hundred and sixty miles—I'll go—and set out to-morrow
morning.'

Lord Colambre and the count, perfectly satisfied with the result of
their visit, now thought it best to leave old Reynolds at liberty to
rest himself, after so many strong and varied feelings. They paid their
parting compliments, settled the time for the next day's journey, and
were just going to quit the room when Lord Colambre heard in the passage
a well-known voice the voice of Mrs. Petito.

'Oh no, my compliments, and my Lady Dashfort's best compliments, and I
will call again.'

'No, no,' cried old Reynolds, pulling his bell; 'I'll have no calling
again—I'll be hanged if I do! Let her in now, and I'll see her—Jack!
let in that woman now or never.'

'The lady's gone, sir, out of the street door.'

'After her, then—now or never, tell her.'

'Sir, she was in a hackney coach.'

Old Reynolds jumped up, and went to the window himself, and, seeing the
hackney coachman just turning beckoned at the window, and Mrs. Petito
was set down again, and ushered in by Jack, who announced her as—

'The lady, sir.' The only lady he had seen in that house.

'My dear Mr. Reynolds, I'm so obliged to you for letting me in,' cried
Mrs. Petito, adjusting her shawl in the passage, and speaking in a voice
and manner well mimicked after her betters. 'You are so very good and
kind, and I am so much obliged to you.'

'You are not obliged to me, and I am neither good nor kind,' said old
Reynolds.

'You strange man,' said Mrs. Petito, advancing graceful in shawl
drapery; but she stopped short. 'My Lord Colambre and Count O'Halloran,
as I hope to be saved!'

'I did not know Mrs. Petito was an acquaintance of yours, gentlemen,'
said Mr. Reynolds, smiling shrewdly.

Count O'Halloran was too polite to deny his acquaintance with a lady
who challenged it by thus naming him; but he had not the slightest
recollection of her, though it seems he had met her on the stairs when
he visited Lady Dashfort at Killpatrickstown. Lord Colambre was 'indeed
UNDENIABLY AN OLD AQUAINTANCE:' and as soon as she had recovered from
her first natural start and vulgar exclamation, she with very easy
familiarity hoped 'My Lady Clonbrony, and my lord, and Miss Nugent, and
all her friends in the family, were well;' and said, 'she did not
know whether she was to congratulate his lordship or not upon Miss
Broadhurst, my Lady Berryl's marriage, but she should soon have to hope
for his lordship's congratulations for another marriage in HER present
family—lady Isabel to Colonel Heathcock, who has come in for a large
portion, and they are buying the wedding clothes—sights of clothes—and
the di'monds, this day; and Lady Dashfort and my Lady Isabel sent me
especially, sir, to you, Mr. Reynolds, and to tell you, sir, before
anybody else; and to hope the cheese COME safe up again at last; and
to ask whether the Iceland moss agrees with your chocolate, and is
palatable; it's the most DILUENT thing upon the universal earth, and the
most TONIC and fashionable—the DUTCHES of Torcaster takes it always for
breakfast, and Lady St. James' too is quite a convert, and I hear the
Duke of V—takes it too.'