The Knight of Gwynne, a tale of the time of the Union. ... With illustrations by 'Phiz'

Front matter

4udYb?n/!J^ finds ou£Y^s ««^ THE KNIGHT OF GWYNNE A TALE OF THE TIME OF THE UNION. EY CHARLES LEVER. ffiHitl; Illustrations fin % TSt. 'Erottmc. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II. LONDON : CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY. 1858. CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE I. — A Tale op Me. Dempsey's Grandfather . . . . 1 II. — Some Visitors at Gwynne Abbey 25 in. — A Scene at the Assizes 33 IV. — Me. Heffernan's Counsels 47 V. — An Unlooked-for Promotion 52 VI. — A Parting Interview 61 VII.— The Fire 65 VHI. — BOARDING-HOUSE CRITICISM 73 IX. — Daly's Farewell 80 X. — The Duke of York's Levee 85 XI.— The Two Sides op a Medal 92 XII. — An Unceremonious Visit 97 XIH. — A Tete-a-Tete and a Letter 104 XIV. — A Dinner at Con Heffernan's Ill XV.— Paul Dempsey's Walk 123 XVI. — Mr. Anthony Nickie, Attorney-at-Law . . . 128 XVH. — A Convivial Evening 135 XVHI. — Mr. Dempsey behind the Scenes 143 XIX. — Mr. Heffernan Out-Manœuvred 153 XX.— A Bit of By-Play 158 XXI. — A Glance at Mrs. Fumbally's 166 XXH.— The Coast in Winter 173 XXIII. — The Doctor's last Device CONTENTS.

CHAP. PAGE XXIV.— A Dark Conspiracy 189 XXV. — The Landing at Aboukir 196 XXVI.— The French Retreat 205 XXVII. — Tidings of the Wounded 213 XXVIII. — The Dawn of Convalescence 221 XXIX.— A Boudoir 229 XXX. — A Lesson for Eavesdropping 238 XXXI. — A Lesson in Politics 245 XXXII.— The Chances of Travel 254 XXXIIL— Home 262 XXXIV.— An Awkward Dinner-Party 271 XXXV. — An Unexpected Proposal 275 XXXVL— The Last Struggle 285 XXXVIL— Conclusion ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE Mr. Dempsey finds out something to his Advantage — Frontispiece. Dodd and Dempsey at the Review 17 Mercy on us ! the Leddies are Coming 82 Paul discovers a " Pose Plastique" 144 Mr. Paul tastes Mrs. Fumbally's " You know — you know" . 161 'Tis Eighty-six Years have crept to your Feet to Die . . 194 The Knight is taken Prisoner 203 Mr. Dempsey in My Lady's Boudoir 233 I

Chapter I

A TALE OP MK. DEMPSEY'S GRANDFATHER. The Knight of Gwynne was far too much occupied in his own reflections to attend to his companion, and exhibited a total unconcern to several piquant little narratives of Mrs. Mackie's dexterity in dealing the cards — of Mrs. FumbaUy's parsimony m domestic arrangements — of Miss Boyle's effrontery— of Leonard's intemperance — and even of Miss Daly's assumed superiority. " You're taking the wrong path," said Mr. Dempsey, suddenly interrupt ing one of his own narratives, at a spot where the two roads diverged, one proceeding inland, while the other foUowed the hue of the coast. " With your leave, sir," said Darcy, coldly, " I will take this way, and, if you'U kindly permit it, I wM do so alone." " Ob ! certainly," said Dempsey, without the sbghtest sign of umbrage ; " would never have thought of joining you had it not been from overhearing an expression so exactly pat to my own condition, that I thought we were brothers in misfortune ; you scarcely bear up as well as I do, though."

Darcy turned abruptly round, as the fear flashed across him, and he muttered to himself, " This fellow knows me ; if so, the whole county will soon be as wise as himself, and the place become intolerable." Oppressed with this unpleasant reflection, the Knight moved on, nor was it tdl after a con siderable interval that he was conscious of his companion's presence, for Mr. Dempsey still accompanied him, though at the distance of several paces, and as if foUowing a path of his own choosing. Darcy laughed good-humouredly at the pertinacity of his tormentor; and half amused by the man, and half ashamed of his own rudeness to him, he made some casual observation on the scenery to open a reconcibation. VOL. II. B " The coast is much finer," said Dempsey, " close to your cottage." This was a home-tMust for the Knight, to show him that concealment was of no use against so subtle an adversary.

" ' The Corvy' is, as you observe, very happdy situated," repbed Darcy, calmly ; " I scarcely know which to prefer, the coast-hue towards DuMuce, or the bold cliffs that stretch away to Bengore." "When the wind comes north-by-west," said Dempsey, with a shrewd glance of his greenish grey eyes, " there's always a wreck or two between the Skerries and Portrush." " Indeed ! Is the shore so unsafe as that ?" " Oh, yes. You may expect a very busy wmter here when the homeward bound Americans are coming northward." " D— n the feUow ! does he take me for a wrecker ?" said Darcy to him self, not knowing whether to laugh or be angry. " Such a curiosity that old ' Corvy' is, they teU me," said Dempsey, embol dened by his success ; " every species of weapon and arm in the world, they say, gathered together there."

"A few swords and muskets," said the Knight, carelessly, "a stray dirk or two, and some harpoons, furnish the greater part of the armoury." " Oh, perhaps so ! The story goes, however, that old Daly— brother, I be lieve, of our friend at Mother Fum's — could arm twenty feUows at a moment's warning, and did so on more than one occasion, too." " With what object, in Heaven's name ?" " Buccaneering, piracy, wrecking, and so on," said Dempsey, with aU the unconcern with which he would have enumerated so many pursuits of the chase. A hearty roar of laughter broke from the Knight, and when it ceased, he said, " I would be sincerely sorry to stand in your shoes, Mr. Dempsey, so near to yonder cbff, if you made that same remark in Mr. Daly's hearing." " He'd gain very bttle by me," said Mr. Dempsey ; " one and eightpence, an old watch, an oyster-knife, and my spectacles, are all the property in my possession, except when, indeed," added he, after a pause, " Bob remits the quarter's allowance."

"It is only just," said Darcy, gravely, "to a gentleman who takes such pams to inform himself on the affaks of Ms neighbours, that I shoMd teU you that Mr. Bagenal Daly is not a pirate, nor am I a wrecker. I am sure you will be generous enough for this unasked mformation not to require of me a more lengthened account either of my friend or myself." " You're in the Revenue, perhaps ?" mterrupted the undaunted Dempsey • " I thought so when I saw you first." Darcy shook his head in dissent. " Wrong again. Ah ! I see it aU; the old story. Saw better days you TnE KNIGHT OF GWYNNE 3 have just come down here to be snug and quiet, out of the way of writs and latitats — went too fast — by Jove, that touches myself, too ! If I hadn't happened to have had a grandfather, I'd have been a rich man this day.

Did you ever chance to hear of Dodd and Dempsey, the great wine-merchants ? My father was son of Dodd and Dempsey — that is Dempsey, you know — and it was his father, Sam Dempsey, ruined him." " No very uncommon circumstance," said the Knight, sorrowfully, " for an Lish father." " You've heard the story, I suppose ?— of course you have, every one knows it." " I rather thmk not," said the Knight, who was by no means sorry to turn Mr. Dempsey from cross-examination mto mere narrative. " I'll teU it to you ; I am sure I ought to know it weU, I've heard my father relate it something like a hundred times." ' " I fear I must decline so pleasant a proposal," said Darcy, smiling. " At this moment I have an engagement." " Never mind. To-morrow wM do just as web," mterrupted the inexo rable Dempsey.

" Come over and take your mutton-chop with me at five, and you shall have the story into the bargain." " I regret that I cannot accept so very tempting an mvitation," said Darcy, struggling between his sense of pride and a feeling of astonishment at his companion's coolness. " Not come to dinner !" exclaimed Dempsey, as if the thing was scarcely credible. " Oh, very well, only remember" — and here he put an unusual gravity into his words — " only remember tlie onus is now on you." The Knight burst mto a hearty laugh at tMs subtle retort, and, willing as he ever was to go with the humour of the moment, rephed, " I am ready to accept it, sir, and beg that you wdl dine with me." " When and where ?" said Dempsey. " To-morrow, at that cottage yonder : sive is your hour, I bebeve — we shaU say sive."

" Booked !" exclaimed Dempsey, with an air of triumph ; whde he muttered, with a scarcely subdued voice, " Knew I'd do it ! — never faded m my Me!" " Till then, Mr. Dempsey," said Darcy, removmg Ms hat courteously, as he bowed to him — " tUl then " " Your most obedient," rephed Dempsey, returnmg the salute ; and so they parted. " The Corvy," on the day after the Knight's visit to Port Ballintray, was a scene of rather amusing bustle ; the Knight's dinner-party, as Helen quiz zingly called it, affording occupation for every member of the household. In former times, the only difficult details of an entertainment were in the b2 selection of the guests— bringing together a company bkely to be suitable to each other, and endowed with those various qualities which make up the success of society ; now, however, the question was the more material one, the dinner itself.

It is always a fortunate thing when whatever absurdity our calamities M Me excite should be apparent only to ourselves. The laugh which is so difficult to bear from the world, is then an actual relief from our troubles. The Darcys felt this truth, as each little embarrassment that arose was food for mirth ; and Lady Eleanor, who least of aU could adapt herself to such contingencies, became as eager as the rest about the httle preparations of the day. While the Knight hurried hither and thither, giving directions here and mstructions there, he explained to Lady Eleanor some few circumstances respecting the character of his guests. It was, indeed, a new kind of com pany he was about to present to his wife and daughter ; but while conscious of the disparity in every respect, he was not the less eager to do the hospi talities of his humble house with all becoming honour.

It is true his invi tation to Mr. Dempsey was rather forced from him than willingly accorded ; he was about the very last kind of person Darcy would have asked to Ms table, if perfectly free to choose ; but, of all men bving, the Knight knew least how to escape from a difficulty the outlet to which should cost Mm any sacrifice of feeling. " WeU, well, it is but once and away ; and, after ab, the talkativeness of our httle friend Dempsey will be so far a rebef to poor Leonard, that he wiU be brought less prominently forward himself, and be suffered to escape unremarked — a circumstance which, from aU that I can see, wiU afford Mm sincere pleasure." At length aU the preparations were happily accomphshed ; the emissary despatched to Kilrush at daybreak had returned with a much-coveted turkey ; the fisherman had succeeded in capturing a lordly salmon ; oysters and lobsters poured in abundantly ; and Mrs. M 'Kerrigan, who had been left as a fixture at " the Corvy," found her only embarrassment m selection from that profusion of " God's gifts," as she phrased it, that now surrounded her.

The hour of five drew near, and the ladies were seated m the hall the doors of which lay open, as the two guests were seen making their way to wards the cottage. " Here they come, papa," said Helen; " and now for a guess. Is not tbe short man with the straw hat Mr. Dempsey, and his tall companion Mr Leonard ?" " Of course it is," said Lady Eleanor ; " who could mistake the garrolous pertinacity of that bttle thing that gesticulates at every step, or the ploddine patience of his melancholy associate ?" The next moment the Knight was welcoming them in front of tlie cottage. The ceremony of introduction to the ladies being over, Mr. Dempsey, who probably was aware that the demands upon his descriptive powers would not be inconsiderable when he returned to " Mother Fum' s," put his glass to his eye, and commenced a very close scrutiny of the apartment and its contents.

" Quite a show-box, by Jove !" said he, at last, as he peered through a glass cabinet, where Chinese sbppers, with models in ivory and carvings in box were heaped promiscuously together ; " upon my word, sir, you have a very remarkable collection. And who may be our friend m the boat here ?" added he, turning to the grim visage of Bagenal Daly himself, who stared with a bold effrontery that would not have disgraced the original. " The gentleman you see there," said the Knight, " is the coUeotor him self, and the other is Ms servant. They are represented in the costumes in which they made their escape from a captivity among the Red Men." " Begad !" said Dempsey, " that fellow with the tortoise painted on his forehead has a look of our old friend Miss Daly ; shouldn't wonder if he was a member of her famUy."

" You have weU guessed it — he is tlie lady's brother." "Ah, ah!" muttered Dempsey to himself, "always thought there was something odd about her — never suspected Indian blood, however. How Mother Fum wdl stare when I tell her she's a Squaw ! Didn't they show these things at the Rooms in Mary's-street ? I tMnk I saw them adver tised in the papers." " I think you must mistake," said the Knight ; " they are the private coUection of my friend." " And where may Woewoe — confound his name — the ' Howling Wind,' as he is pleased to caU himself, be passing his leisure hours just now ?" " He is at present in Dublin, sir ; and, if you desire, he shall be made aware of your pobte inquiries." " No, no— hang it, no — don't like the look of him ! Should have no objection, though, if he'd pay old Bob Dempsey a visit, and frighten him out of this world for me."

" Dinner, my Lady," said old Tate, as he threw open the doors into the dining-room, and bowed with all his accustomed solemnity. " Hum," muttered Dempsey, "my Lady, won't go down with me !— too old a soldier for that !" "WM you give my daughter your arm?" said the Knight to the little man, for already Lady Eleanor had passed on with Mr. Leonard. As Mr. Dempsey arranged Ms napkin on his knee, he endeavoured to catch Leonard's eye, and telegraph to him his astonishment at the elegance of the table equipage which graced the board. Poor Leonard, however, seldom looked up ; a deep sense of shame, the agonising memory of what he once was, recalled vividly by the sight of those objects, and the appearance of persons which reminded him of his past condition, almost stunned him. The whole seemed like a dream ; even though intemperance had de graded him, there were intervals m which his mind, clear to see and reflect, sorrowed deeply over his fallen state.

Had the Knight met Mm with a cold and repulsive deportment, or had he refused to acknowledge Mm altogether, he could better have borne it than all the kindness of his present manner. It was evident, too, from Lady Eleanor's tone to him, that she knew nothing of his unhappy fortune, or that if she did, the delicacy with which she treated him was only the more benevolent. Oppressed by such emotions, he sat endeavouring to eat, and trying to bsten and interest him self in the conversation around him, but the effort was too much for his strength, and a vague, half-whispered assent, or a dull, unmeaMng smile, were about as much as he coMd contribute to what was passmg. The Knight, whose tact was rarely at faMt, saw every struggle that was passing m Leonard's mind, and adroitly contrived that the conversation should be carried on without any demand upon him, either as talker or listener.

If Lady Eleanor and Helen contributed their aid to this end, Mr. Dempsey was not backward on his part, for he talked unceasmgly. The good things of the table, to which he did ample justice, afforded an opportunity for catechising the ladies m their sMU in household matters, and Miss Darcy, who seemed immensely amused by the novely of such a character, sustamed her part to admiration, entering deeply into cuhnary details, and communicating receipts mvented for the occasion. At another time, per haps, the Knight woMd have checked the spirit of persiflage in which his daughter indulged, but he suffered it now to take its course, well pleased that the mark of her ridicMe was not only worthy of the scarcasm, but in sensible to its arrow. " Quite right — quite right not to try Mother Fum's when you can get up a bttle thing like this — and such capital sherry; look how Tom takes it in — shps bke oU over his lip !"

Leonard looked up ; an expression of rebuking severity for a moment crossed his features, but his eyes feU the next instant, and a low, famt sigh escaped Mm. " I ought to know what sherry is — ' Dodd and Dempsey's' was the great house for sherry." " By the way," said the Knight, "did not you promise me a Uttle narrative of Dodd and Dempsey, when we parted yesterday ?" " To be sure I did. WiU you have it now ?" Lady Eleanor and Helen rose to withdraw, but Mr. Dempsey, who took the movement as significant, immediately interposed, by saying, " Don't stir, ma'am — sit down, ladies, I beg ; there's nothing broad m tbe story — it might be told before the Maids of Honour." Lady Eleanor and Helen were thunderstruck at the explanation, and the Knight laughed tiU the tears came. " My dear Eleanor," said he, " you really must accept Mr. Dempsey's assurance, and listen to his story now."

The ladies took their seats once more, and Mr. Dempsey having fiUed his glass, drank off a bumper ;' but whether it was that the narrative itself de manded a greater exertion at his hands, or that the cold quietude of Lady Eleanor's manner abashed him, but he found a second bumper necessary be fore he commenced his task. " I say," whispered he to the Knight, " coMdu't you get that decanter out of Leonard's reach before I begm ? — he'U not leave a drop in it whUe I am talking." As if he felt that, after his explanation, the tale shoMd be more particularly addressed to Lady Eleanor, he turned his chair round so as to face her, and thus began : " There was once upon a time, ma'am, a Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland, who was a Duke. Whether he was Duke of Rutland, or Bedford, or Portland, or any other title it was he had, my memory doesn't serve me ; it is enough, however, if I say he was immensely rich, and, like many other people in the same way, immensely in debt.

The story goes that he never traveUed tMough England, and caught sight of a handsome place, or fine domain, or a beautiful cottage, that he didn't go straightway to the owner and buy it down out of the face, as a body might say, whether he woMd or no. And so in time it came to pass that there was scarcely a county in England without some magnificent house belonging to him. In many parts of Scotland he had them too, and, m all probability, he woMd have done the same in Ireland if he coMd. WeU, ma'am, there never was such rejoicings as Dubhn saw the night his Grace arrived to be our Viceroy ! To know that we had got a man with one hundred and fifty thousand a year, and a spirit to spend double the money, was a downright blessing from Providence, and there was no saying what might not be the prosperity of Ireland under so auspicious a ruler.

"To do him justice, he didn't baulk pubhc expectation. Open house at the Castle, ditto at the Lodge in the Park, a mansion fuU of guests in the county Wicklow, a pack of hounds hi Kildare, twelve horses training at the Curragh, a yacht bke a little man-of-war in Dunleary harbour, large subscriptions to everything like sport, and a pension for bfe to every man that could sing a jolly song, or write a witty bit of poetry ! Well, ma'am, thej say, who remember those days, that they saw the best of Ireland, and surely I believe, if his Grace had oMy lived, and had his own way, the Peerage would have been as pleasant, and the Bench of Bishops as droll, and the Ladies of Honour as WeU, never mind, I'll pass on." Here Mr. Dempsey, to console himself for the abruptness of his pause, poured out and drank another bumper of sherry.

" Pleasant times they were," said he, smack ing his bps, " and faith, if Tom Leonard himself was abve then, the colour of his nose might have made him Commander of the Forces ; but, to continue, it was Dodd and Dempsey's house supplied the sherry — only the sherry, ma'am ; old Stewart, of Belfast, had the port, and Kinnahan the claret and lighter liquors. I may mention, by the way, that my grandfather's contract included brandy, and that he woMdn't have given it up for either of the other two. It was just about this time that Dodd died, and my grandfather was left alone in the firm, but whether it was out of respect for his late partner, or that he might have felt himself lonely, but he always kept up the name of Dodd on the brass plate, and signed the name along with his own ; indeed, they say that he once saluted his wife by the name of Mrs. Dodd and Dempsey.

But, as I was saying, it was one of those days when my grandfather was seated on a high stool m the back office of his house in Abbey street, that a fine, taU young feUow, with a blue frock-coat, aU braided with gold, and an elegant cocked-hat, with a plume of feathers M it, came tramp ing into the room, his spurs jingling, and his brass sabre clinking, and his sabretash banging at his legs. " ' Mr. Dempsey ?' said he. "' D. and D.,' said my grandfather; 'that is, Dodd and Dempsey, your Grace,' for he half suspected it was the Duke himself. "'lam Captain M'Claverty, of the Scots Greys,' said he, ' first aide-de camp to his Excellency.' " ' I hope you may live to be colonel of the regiment,' said my grandfather, for he was as polite and weU-bred as any man M Ireland. " ' That's too good a sentiment,' said the captain, ' not to be pledged m a glass of your own sherry.' " ' And we'U do it, too,' said old Dempsey.

And he opened the desk, and took out a bottle he had for his own private drinkmg, and uncorked it with a little pocket corkscrew he always carried about with him, and he produced two glasses, and he and the captain hob-nobbed and drank to each other. "'Begad!' said the captain, 'his Grace sent me to thank you for the de licious wine you suppbed him with, but it's nothing to this — not to be com pared to it.' "'I've better again,' said my grandfather. 'I've wine that would brin" the tears into your eyes when you saw the decanter getting low.' The captain stared at him, and maybe it was that the speech was too much for his nerves, but he drank off two glasses one after the other as quick as he could fib them out. " ' Dempsey',' said he, looking round, cautiously, ' are we alone ?' " ' We are,' said my grandfather.

" ' TeU me, then,' said M'Claverty, ' how could his Grace get a taste of tMs real sherry, for himself, alone, I mean ? Of course, I never thought of Ms giving it to the Judges, and old Lord Dunboyne, and such hke.' " ' Does he ever take a bttle sup in his own room, of an evening ?' "'lam afraid not, but I'll teU you how I think it might be managed ; you're a snug feUow, Dempsey, you've plenty of money muddling away m the bank at three-and-a-half per cent., couldn't you contrive, some way or other, to get into his ExceUency's confidence, and lend him ten or Mteen thousand, or so ?' " ' Ay, or twenty,' said my grandfather — ' or twenty, if he bkes it.' " ' I doubt if he woMd accept such a sum,' said the captain, shaking his head ; ' he has bags of money rolling m upon him every week or fortnight ; sometimes we don't know where to put them.' " ' Oh of course,' said my grandfather ; ' I meant no offence, I only said twenty, because, if his Grace would condescend, it isn't twenty, but a fifty thousand I could give him, and on the nail, too.' " ' You're a fine feUow, Dempsey — a devilish fine feUow ; you're the very kind of feUow the Duke likes — open-handed, frank, and generous.' " ' Do you really think he'd like me ?' said my grandfather ; and he rocked on the high stool, so that it nearly came down.

" ' Like you ! I'U tell you what it is,' said he, laying his hand on my grandfather's knee, 'before one week was over, he coMdn't do without you. You'd be there morning, noon, and night ; your knife and fork always ready for you, just bke one of the family.' " ' Blood abve !' said my grandfather, ' do you teU me so ?' " ' PU bet you a hundred pounds on it, sir !' " ' Done,' said my grandfather, ' and you must hold the stakes ;' and with that he opened his black pocket-book, and put a note for the amount into the captam's hand. " ' This is the 31st of March,' said the captain, taking ont his pencil and tablets. ' I'll just book the bet.' " 'And, indeed,' added Mr. Dempsey, 'for that matter, if it was a day later it would have been only more suitable.' " Well, ma'am, what passed between them afterwards I never heard said, but the captain took his leave, and left my grandfather so delighted and overjoyed, that he finished all the sherry in the drawer, and when the head clerk came in to ask for an invoice, or a thing of the kind, he found old Mr. Dempsey with his wig on the high stool, and he bowing round it, and caU ing it your Grace.

There's no denying it, ma'am, he was bbnd drunk. " About ten days or a fortnight after this time, my grandfather received a note from Teesum and Twist, the sobeitors, stating that the draft of the bond was already drawn up for the loan he was about to make to his Grace, and begging to know to whom it was to be submitted. " ' The captam wiU win his bet, devil a be m it,' said my grandfather ; ' he's going to bring the Duke and myself together.' " WeU, ma'am, I won't bother you with the law busmess, though if my father was telling the story he woMd not spare you one item of it all, who read this, and who signed the other, and the objections that was made by them thieving attorneys ! and how the Solicitor-General struck out this and put in that clause ; but to teU you the truth, ma'am, I think that all the de tails spoil, what we may caU, the poetry of the narrative ; it is finer to say he paid the money, and the Duke pocketed it.

" WeU, weeks went over and months long, and not a bit of the Duke did my grandfather see, nor M'Claverty either ; he never came near Mm. To be sure Ms Grace drank as much sherry as ever ; indeed, I bebeve out of love to my grandfather they drank little else ; from the bishops and the chap lain, down to the battle-axe guards, it was sherry, morning, noon, and night ; and though this was very pleasing to my grandfather, he was always wish ing for the time when he was to be presented to his Grace, and their friendship was to begin. My grandfather could think of nothing else, day light and dark ; when he walked, he was always repeating to himself what his Grace might say to him, and what he would say to his Grace ; and he was perpetually going up at eleven o'clock, when the guard was relieved in the Castle-yard, suspecting that every now and then a footman M blue and sdver woMd come out, and, touching his elbow, whisper m his ear, ' Mr. Dempsey, the Duke's waiting for you.' But, my dear ma'am, he might have waited till now, if Providence had spared Mm, and the devU a taste of the same message would, ever have come near him, or a sight ofthe same foot man in blue !