Scully Domullydom: an Anglo-Irish story of to-day

Front matter

SCULLYDOM. SCULLYDOM: >N >IS[GLO-IRISH ST0I\Y OF TO-DAY, BY t P. M. EGAN. LONDON : JOHN <fe ROBERT MAXWELL, _.___-TON HOUSE, ST. BRIDE STREET, AMD SHOE LANE, FLEET ST., E.C. [AH riejhU reserved] P__.I__rr__._-> AT P. M. EGAS'8 MACHINS PKIHTING AND J. UBI.U.HING WORKS, KILKEMNT. CONTENTS. CH.'.P. PAGE. A Casual Visitor 9 II Micky Crow's Preparations 22 III, Why Mr. Scully Went to Buy. the Filly Is Childhood's Love Re-kindled . . 27 IV 40 V, Social Chaos 54 VI. Mr. Scully meets a Confidante Ramblings to Ballybur Castle. 66 VII. 72 VIII. Husband No. 4 83 IX. Soft Reminiscences 92 X. The Gentleman First Saw Her in the Street 98 XI. The Poetry of Money-Lending A Home Rule Dream in London 119 XII. 131 XIII. XIV. Gone Away 150 On the Trail 160 XV. Is it a False Scent . 165 XVI. Micky Crow Pays his " 'Dhresses" 171 XVII.

XVIII. Who were the Strangers . 179 He Gave Her Gold 190 XIX. Fred Rests His Hopes upon Cast-off Envelopes 196 A Real Ghost at Last . 209 XX XXI. XXII. XXIII. XXIV. Diamond Bradshaw, the Detective Tramore is the Hunting Ground 217 225 A Queer Face in the Mirror . A Matrimonial Scramble 240 CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE. 262 XXV. Who is He in Disguise . Fred's Final Resolution Fred Sounds Mr. Scully In the Metropous XXVI. 279 285 XXVII. XXVIII. 298 XXIX. What Waifs Direct our Destinies Popping the Question 307 325 XXX. XXXI. XXXII. XXXIII. XXXIV. xxxv. Micky Crow's Lucky Find An Irish Battle 328 3?8 342 The Will of Old Felix Revelations 346 A New King Reigns

Preface

. Many writers of fiction seem to be attracted by the manners and customs of our ancestors, which they love to depict as if they expected time and antiquity should lend additional enchantment to their work. The author of this book prefers to.n.ustrate those traits of social life by which we are at the present time surrounded, believing that the vagaries of fact are quite as strange in one generation as another. Though politics have little to do with the plot of the work, still it is but natural that the people who speak upon its pages will represent to the reader some of those strange political phases of society which have transpired in these countries within the last few years. Whenever we have been impelled to treat of such subjects we feel entitled to claim the credit of giving at least a fair and just represen tation of them, founded upon an acquaintance with similar circumstances which have come under our observation. THE AUTHOR.

Chapter I

A CASUAL VISITOR. " Bow, wow, wow, said the dog. " Stop, you bold Fido," said the young lady. Fido was a very remarkable dog in his way. When the eyerested on him, the mind became quite confused as to which species of the canine tribe he might be entered under. Not large enough for a Newfoundland, larger than the best sized terrier, he had the sharp nose of the latter, while he seemed to inherit the loose gait, shaggy hair, and sweeping bush tail of the former. But in color, every tint blended so harmoniously into his hirsute curlets as to leave little chance of deciding the hue of the general outline. Gray, black, glossy brown, and white, even to 'the red tinge, belonging to that high-up member of the genus, the fox himself, were all shading into each other with a distinctive peculiarity.

It was a serious subject for discussion among the farmers' boys of the neighbourhood his probable descent, and even dog-fanciers had all their erudition con founded by attempting to trace out his genealogy. Yet in character he was more blessed by his ancestors, for he retained all the docility which might be received from them • while, whatever nature might have left undone in eliminat ing the vicious qualities of his race, kindness at the farm house had certainly succeeded in accomplishing, by making him a universal favourite. It was no wonder then that his young mistress, Kate Comerford, should be interested in him ; and as her young heart sought for something on which to bestow its affections, that her interestedness might take the shape of fondness. Only twelve months before it was, since she had returned from the boarding-school at Kilkenny, three miles distant from her — a very monotonous place, to say the least of it- — where time was cut up into so many harmonic sections, regu lating the duration of meal time, as well as for recreation and study ; and where lessons ever and anon bore on with such a dread unalterableness that seemed more than worldly.

B SCULLYDOM. She had succeeded in acquiring the full measure of emancipation from the " that's a dear child," " there's a darling," " what a naughty girl," of the arch-mistress, Miss Lory ; had bidden fond adieu to the dearest girls of the academy ; had taken glad leave of all the bright scenes which enhance the attractions of the faire citie, even to that paragon of picturesqueness, the canal by the river, to live amidst the plain beauties which had formed her tastes in childhood, to climb rocks, and rustle among shubberies, to pluck wild strawberries, and walk in the paths of the fresh meadow land in the summer time. She loved to look up at the old castle, the home of her forefathers, which seemed to stand a hoary victor against the vagaries of climate, and the un relenting wear and fret of centuries ; and was often led into strains of thought concerning it, quite different from those which had been her wont, before those three years of town development that had wrought such a change in her character.

What a number of similar castles were spread throughout Ireland, she thought, with their rectangular massiveness, as if to defy all feudal aggressions, to render futile the raining upon them of showers of hostile arrows. She wondered to catch herself now often falling into such serious reveries about that old building, how she could regard it with discriminating and curious eye, after having an acquaintance of sixteen years with it before she had left for the academy. But during that flitting period of childhood, that long dream amidst inocuous pleasures, she remembered how near to her was the horizon of her thoughts, what a diminutive circle it was, only reaching as far as the wood and the little brook ; in harvest time it might be, by a freak of liberty, extendiEg to the lands beyond the orchard, where the strong reapers plied the busy sickle in their shirt sleeves, presenting such a formidable array of humanity as to shock her by their numbers.

At that time there was usually a pet lamb, sometimes with a turned foot or other physical impediment, kept in the home field, where she tended it the whole day lon^ when Fido was a puppy, and gave a good share of trouble in his uncouth developments. Recalling those childhood days, she remembered treasures which came, too, in the shape of a young blackbird, or a thrush that had all the neighbouring ditches plundered by her of snails to satiate its ravenous appetite — at this she laughed — and then there was once a goldfinch, its colours at the time almost indescribable to her, so dazz'ed did her sight become on beholding the encaged beaujy, which afterwards so excited her pity from seeing it dash itself in wild desperation against its bars, that she one day in a fit of indignation and pity opened the door, and set the captive free, hoping that away in hazel thickets it was thinking of her, it might be sending back soft notes of lo . e, o . singing a song of gratitude for the noble pity of its liberator.

How strange and simple her life even three years ago seemed to her. Sitting on a grassy slope in the wood, her attention was drawn to the brook that went along with gurgling energy before her. A pertinacious little gabbler it was in that sea. on, working away in its tingling theme under drooping sedges, as it did when first she loved to dip a rush, having a worm on the end, into it, to tempt the wily minnow. " It seems a long time since I used to be fishing there now," she said. There was a little bridge extemporized after a rustic fashion, by having a piece of timber cut in two thrown from bank to bank ; in other places there were some broad flat stones, across which she would hop with a nimble and sure step, half joyful, half fearful, as she made for the delights of the rugged wood beyond it.

That brook had debouched far away up from between the hills, had made sure its devious way, till it wheeled by the row of elms which shaded Ballybur castle on the west ; then skirted along by the margin of the wood, and, after rushing by the farmyard, shaped its course to drain the distant meadowlands in the east. On the far side of the castle stretched the orchard, purpling plums revealing themselves in ripe relief against the grey moss-grown wall ; while at the other end rose in sheeny lustre a straw-thatched haystack, haying a ladder — it was painted green, and looked rather remarkable to her — placed against it at one end, where SCULLYDOM. cutting was going on with as much prim neatness as if it were a paring from an enlarged cheese-rool. She gazed with a thoughtful pleasure upon that scene, every object of which brought up in succession some reniin escence of the harmless morning of her life.

She had_ looked upon those sights atonetime as being vast, as sublime in their dimensions ■ now she drew sublimity from their rural sim plicity, from their innocence. This was no trivial self change that might be overlooked by her ; it was one she held up for her contemplation, to muse upon and behold in brightest colours, as if she had passed the thought through a prism. Yes, it was a happy reflection. The memory of her childhood was then vivid, but she had passed away from it, left it as she would twilight shadows on the plain, when she climbed the purple hills to gaze upon the lurid sun that made golden the landscape around her. Now she felt she had reached incipient womanhood. — The thought brought a suffused flush which spread in equalized colouring over her cheek. What wonderful changes she mused came in so short a time.

She looked again towards the castle. How did it so happily occur that her family should occupy Ballybur castle, while the occupants of those old castles which her limited thoughts had lately brought her acquainted with were cattle seeking protection from the scorching sun or the worrying fly. She was glad that this " lordly tower" of theirs was not debased into "a shepherd's pen ;" that notwithstanding the modern addition built by her father, which had one end of the castle for its gable, they occupied the old pile itself, slept and dined there, though it might be after a more simple fashion than the lord of its origin. The lands, too, now attached, which her brother inherited, she was sure were nothing to the whole districts included under the ancient patrimonies. _ In this way Kate was often a matter-of-fact thinking girl, but these facts were usually tinctured with the glow of a vivid imagination, not wild or romantic, but reasonable in its every fancy.

Though often disposed to take the sterner or more prosaic side of the subject, yet she seldom looked at the picture, except under the influence of a bright light or a warm sun-glow. The mind, even when filled with the dry artificialities of city glitter and tinsel, could scarce help abhorring " the girl of the period," after a short acquaintance with Kate. Looking at the calm, clear expression of the dark eye — there was ever so slight an inclination of the eyelid to droop over it — which was never obtrusive in its gaze, you felt conscious of beholding one who was good-natured, who was innocent of the world's viciousness, who was affable, with a candour that was watchful not to exceed becoming limits — in short, who was what plain people would delight in calling " a nice girl." The dark silky eyelashes, and the dark braided hair clustering in thick plaits along the high, smooth brow, making the wan cheek seem paler, produced an effect of unpretending dignity, of bright, expressive meekness.

It was that kind of meekness which did not vanish when the necessity for its appearance ceased, as being feigned for an object; but had a natural source, and a natural inspiration for its renewal. Never permitting her to crave after the good will of people, yet, without an effort, it bore away half unconsciously and in quick time the esteem of those with whom she associated. But as she flaunted along the hill side, or skipped across the lawn, free and airy, without the reserve induced by the presence of any observer, she seemed in the distance the wildest of flighty creatures, with Fido so exuberant in his grimaces, and so lavish in his affections, in which he had no consideration for the most immaculate of muslins, or the prettiest design of a silk dress. Joyous Fido, these past twelve months were unbroken holiday with him, bounding blithely over the blushing heather in the wood, or burrow ing under the sedgy bank of the brook ; after which he would tumble in botanical disrespect over cow-slips and blue bells, and run to have his rough back smoothed by the silky touch of the soft white hand.

Did Kate ever dream that unmixed delights such as these could scarce be earthly . Was the world about re laxing its unrelenting rules, and making a favourable ex ception by permitting her to pass unmolested, untouched by its scathing fires, away in some shadowy nook, where the sunbeams broke in nothing but golden glories . SCULLYDOM. In the gloaming of the June evening, she languidly paced under the row of elms, that margined the little field which lay between her and the castle. The sweets of rural life bad begun to lose considerably in interest for her. There was no society in the old castle except her brother, who was never quite at home with fashionable people, or with those who made, as he thought, an exhibition of their English. An only son, the duties of the far-rn always demanded his attentions, the more so now as his parents were dead, who through neglect deprived him of the cultivation which was necessary to excite pleasure by social intelligence.

Kate felt the want of some congenial spirit, and the longing as yet took no other shape than that of fret for her school companions. She wished to know how they were getting on there now7. She even sat down while pondering over what one or another was probably doing at that time ; how she should like to have them out at the castle ; what confidence she should place in them, and all about very little. An occasional visitor to borrow some Agricultural implement, or deliver a long gossip upon the prosperity of this or that field, or the good looks of such a beast, was all Ballybur Castle could boast of. This evening there was to be a break in the quiet tenor of events. A gentleman from Kilkenny was to drive out in that direction, who had promised her brother William to drop over to see him en passant, concerning the purchase of a young filly.

He was, according to Biddy Casey, the house keeper, to arrive about seven, and that good woman was flushed with business, as tea was ordered by Mr. William, so that all the respectable tea parapharnalia was to be pressed into service for the occasion. Biddy knew Mr. Scully well. A very eminent banker in the town, to hear her pedigree of him • had a fine house, and only twelve months ago buried his first wife. " It's really wonderful what a 'mint' he has Miss, and the nevers sich a grand phæton I ever laid my dotin' eyes on," she said to Kate, as the latter had returned, and began to make some arrangements for the evening. " And what's that to us, Biddy," replied Kate. " Oh, musha, sure nothing, Miss, only whin wan meet* would a grand gintleman, they must be talkin' about him. I'll lay you a wager it will be a half-crown in my pocket any way this evenin'."

" Oh, I begin to understand you now, Biddy ■ you praise the fool too as you find him." " Well, thin, Miss, I never said the gentleman was a fool, for if he was,'he could never have suoh a deuce of a long purse as people say he has." The soft rumble of Mr. Scully's little gig soon broke on the ear, and that gentleman was received by William Comerford, with all the ceremony which the rustic place could assume for the occasion. Kate was a little frighted at the introduction. He was an imposing man, of good stature, firmly built, with easy graces ; his etiquette a little formal, without pro ducing pain ; and dressed with all due regard to good taste and fashion. The nose was partly aquiline, pointed, but broad at the base ; the eyes full and vigorous, except when some deep thought wrested their attention from outward objects ; a little sprinkling of dark grey whiskers fringing a plump oheek ; with a good head of dark hair silvered by the cares of fifty summers.

Kate felt her knowledge, and her powers of conversation become very degenerate when brought into play with those of Lucifer Scully. He was evidently a well read man, or if not, no other could make such large interest on small capital as he could, from being fairly conversant with title pages. It was quite apparent that he had much of his education from society, had everyone's " say," for even if disinclined to pursue learning for learning's sake, his ambition to become Johnsonian in conversation proved an incentive to cultivation. After issuing the distinguished guest to the parlour, Kate left himself and her brother to enjoy them selves over the contents of a bottle. " Yes, William, I'll have a half one out of that black bottle," said Mr. Scully, with as much freedom as if it were the intimacy of twenty years they were about toast ing, though that was but the third occasion upon which they ever spoke to each other. '"% After some desultory small talk Mr. Scully rose, saying : SCULLYDOM, " But, by the way, Comerford," it's not for mere gossip a business man takes his rambles ; he must get something more substantial.

What about the filly 1" " All right, sir," said William. Mr. Scully did not fall in love with the filly at first sight — indeed William thought from his condemning her bo quickly that he could scarce have intended to buy her at all. " I'm told, sir," said William, " by judges, that she is just the thing for a hunter, though it was by the greatest chance I come by her." " Comerford, hunters now-a-days, you know, are not like the hunters fifty years ago. At that time people had the round-barrelled fellow, that could carry his master to the covert, run four hours at a stretch, and then take him home again without a feather out of him. At least so I am told, for you know I was not following the hounds at that time. At the present day, however, we only want speed for about three quarters of an hour.

This little thing has mischief in that ear of hers ; it's thrown back after rather a winky fashion. I'd like a smaller head, and a wider nostril, an eyelid that would have more of the silk about it, you know, as well as a shorter pastern, and a shorter leg, too. Of course, as to a round barrel, I wouldn't so much mind, as long as it was not common, but the hocks are not well enough under her." " I never once thought you could judge a horse to such a nicety, sir," said William. " It takes a man to be blind in nothing now-a-days, my friend. Let us have a walk about the fields ; nothing can delight one more than to look on a good broad piece of rich ripe corn, or a stretch of flourishing turnips. It keeps despair away, and is the greatest enemy to our common foe, ' the wolf.' What do you think, William V " True for you, sir." They lingered out by the wheat plot behind the orchard, and on through the other fields, William saying little more than make the simplest remark on the character of the crop, which left Mr. Scully toje.el in one of his most delectable moods of high-flying morropoly.

" That'* thin," he remarked, looking at one, field of oats, " and see that headland — it's able to do the business of a boot-jack. It wants draining, the poor crop is famished, sir, I'm astonished at a good farmer." " People can't do everything, sir," replied William, " And what's to prevent you, my dear fellow 1" " Oh, many a thing, sir." " I can't for the life of me see what it is." " Why, a man id want a great capital to do all them things, sir." " Well now, see here • if that's the case, give me a call at my office, and I'll lend you a fifty-pound note at any time you wish to set about improving your drainage." " 'Tis very kind of you, surely, sir." " Oh, don't talk nonsense." As they returned home, William being for the past week immersed in rather warm thoughts as to how he would raise capital to get in the harvest, began at once to surmise an easy way of escaping the dilemma.

What with agricultural dissertations, tempered here and there with a good joke from Mr. Scully, trite remarks from William, and au occasional bon mot from Kate, tea passed over without much being done in the way of physical ac complishments. Biddy Casey's nervous system having almost become de ranged in an officious removal of the tea-things, Mr. Scully became once more exuberent in his discourse, though care ful not to exceed the limits of prudence, by betraying his inward promptings. "You are quite tired of the dreariness of this place, Miss Comerford," he said, " after the jollification of seminary life." " No, indeed, Mr. Scully, I must say I'm highly delighted with it, 'tis so pleasant to enjoy the country in summer. If one had any regard for rustic beauties, I can assure you they could scarcely get tired of it."

" Yes, I am aware of the tastes which young ladies carry home from seminaries. They sometimes fall in love with art, stroll about sketching in the woods, taking the dimensions of an old knarled oak, or ivy on old ruins, and all that sort of thing. I suppose you didn't escape the infection either." SCULLYDOM. " I like to amuse myself occasionally ; 'tis better not to forget everything, especially as there is some nice scenery in the wood." " Let us see the sketch book, Miss Comerford, it will while away a half an hour." " Oh, Mr. Scully, they are really horrid, I could not think of letting you see one of them, they are just like what children going to school would do, you know." " But I like to see the work of amateurs, Miss Comerford ; one need not be disposed to criticise, in fact criticism would be out of place on such an occasion.

We have only to give due praise to what deserves it, and look on all defects as something which progress will overcome." " But you are so accustomed to see finished landscapes, and everything else done to perfection, that my attempts will appear very poor, I'm certain." " Too much humility, Miss Comerford, a trait of character not very prevalent now-a-days." Kate brought the sketch book. There was Ballybur Castle itself, a couple of oaks in the near wood, a water wheel and old ruins with distant hills thrown in as appro priate back-ground, all of which received due praise from Mr. Scully. Having entered at all into the subject of art, there was nothing so natural as that they should glide on to music. " In that blessed city within," said Mr. Scully, " there's just a piano for every cabbage garden.

It's nothing from morning till night but bing-banging, and strumming, at ' Ecoutez moi,' or ' The Dew-drop Valse,' sometimes they get as far as lessons made easy from ' La Traviata,' but then they become quite incapable of resisting the conclusion that they are more than finished. You can play well, Miss Comer ford," he continued, looking in the direction of the piano, an old cottage instrument that had yet retained a tincture of that rich resonance which it possessed when Kate's mother removed it hither as part of her fortune. " A little, but I confess I have somewhat neglected my practice lately, the country is so tempting to stray about in." " Give us something from one of the great masters — from Hayden, or Mendelssohn — though I don't care, in fact, if you keep to home, and take a verse from our own ' Tommy.' Bless me, one never gets at the end of that man's beauties."

" Well, now, Mr. Scully," said Kate, in a lengthened tone, giving him a look of girlish admonition for being so utterly unreasonable. " Oh, I can tell at one look when people can sing ; no such thing as blinking me," he said. Kate had a large green book of the meludies, and the first she hit upon was the melody " On Music." Mr. Scully stood close beside her, there was one turn of a leaf required till the first verse was finished, and he performed the duty with all the necessary vigilance. It had to be turned back again, and returned for each verse, all of wliich was done with due attention ; his left hand resting on the chair which did duty for a piano stool, while the other was engaged with the music. The piece being finished he said — " Exquisitely done, Miss Comerford; that line ending with ' unblest we rove,' always touches particular chords within me.

My mother sang beautifully, and when / lost ' all that made life dear,' after starting for America at one time, there was scarce an occasion upon which I heard one of her songs but I became sick.'' " It must be affecting," said Kate, " to hear an old air, particularly in a foreign country." " You might say that, Miss Comerford ; it reveals all the circumstances and surroundings of the time and place in which you first heard it." " Were you long in America, Mr. Scully 1" " Well, only about two years ; I remained there till fortune favoured me with a smile one fine morning ; and when the fickle goddess took it in her head to do so, I con cluded, lest she might be in a hurry to change her mind, it was high time to face — well, for the Emerald Isle, though the best part of my life has been in the sister isle across channel."

" I wouldn't like to go to America," said Kate. " Would you not, and why so 1" " I'd be afraid of the blacks," aud she laughed at Mr. Scully. " Oh, they are innocent poor fellows ; the white men are SCULLYDOM. often a good deal more vicious. Young ladies cannot be got to admire their grinning teeth, though." " It's much better live at home in Ireland, I think, Mr. Scully." " Yes, Miss Comerford, that's something like philosophy." William was out, and Mr. Scully and Kate enjoyed a long talk. American life formed one of the topics, after which they returned again to the music, nice pieces, good players, and the like, a conversation which Mr. Scully was quite at home in. He was a gentlemanly man, intellectually so, able to take a prominent part in all ordinary conversations, such as after-dinner politics, or tea-party themes ; equal to any emergency on unusual topics, too, by giving a hard knock with the heavy end of another man's argument ; the only disability under which he laboured being, that for the past twelve months, since his widowerhood, he could not come to terms with the " fairer" portion of the community, so as to become once more favoured with their blessedness.

The parting was one of a decidedly growing friendship. Miss Comerford was secretly flattered by so much attention from so important a gentleman, and there was, besides, the happy feeling of having distinguished herself according to Mr. Scully's seemingly unfeigned esteem ; so that it would not be difficult for more inexperienced eyes than Mr. Scully's to observe the little gush of feeling with which the parting words were given. About nine o'clock he set out fer the marble city. It was a June evening, the brightness of which seemed to last so long as to allow night to throw her sable element with only partial effect, till light and darkness seemed content to share equal portions of the ethereal space with each other. The hedgerows were wearing their richest plumes, every meadow had on its most luxuriant dressing, fields of green corn were waving and nodding with the merest rustling breeze, all con ducing with their freshness and beauty to charm and lend a sort of unconscious happiness to the traveller.