第52章 Volume 2(16)

As for women,they are all pretty much alike to me.I am too old myself to make nice distinctions,and too ugly to succeed by Cupid's arts;and when a man despairs of success,he soon ceases to care for it.So,if you know me,as you profess to do,rest satisfied "caeteris paribus;"the money part of the transaction being equally advantageous,I should regret the loss of Ellen Heathcote just as little as I should the escape of a minnow from my landing-net.'

They walked on for a few minutes in silence,which was not broken till Dwyer,who had climbed a stile in order to pass a low stone wall which lay in their way,exclaimed:

'By the rood,she's here--how like a philosopher you look."The conscious blood mounted to O'Mara's cheek;he crossed the stile,and,separated from him only by a slight fence and a gate,stood the subject of their recent and somewhat angry discussion.

'God save you,Miss Heathcote,'cried Dwyer,approaching the gate.

The salutation was cheerfully returned,and before anything more could pass,O'Mara had joined the party.

My friend,that you may understand the strength and depth of those impetuous passions,that you may account for the fatal infatuation which led to the catastrophe which I have to relate,I must tell you,that though I have seen the beauties of cities and of courts,with all the splendour of studied ornament about them to enhance their graces,possessing charms which had made them known almost throughout the world,and worshipped with the incense of a thousand votaries,yet never,nowhere did I behold a being of such exquisite and touching beauty,as that possessed by the creature of whom Ihave just spoken.At the moment of which I write,she was standing near the gate,close to which several brown-armed,rosy-cheeked damsels were engaged in milking the peaceful cows,who stood picturesquely grouped together.She had just thrown back the hood which is the graceful characteristic of the Irish girl's attire,so that her small and classic head was quite uncovered,save only by the dark-brown hair,which with graceful simplicity was parted above her forehead.There was nothing to shade the clearness of her beautiful complexion;the delicately-formed features,so exquisite when taken singly,so indescribable when combined,so purely artless,yet so meet for all expression.She was a thing so very beautiful,you could not look on her without feeling your heart touched as by sweet music.Whose lightest action was a grace--whose lightest word a spell--no limner's art,though ne'er so perfect,could shadow forth her beauty;and do I dare with feeble words try to make you see it?Providence is indeed no respecter of persons,its blessings and its inflictions are apportioned with an undistinguishing hand,and until the race is over,and life be done,none can know whether those perfections,which seemed its goodliest gifts,many not prove its most fatal;but enough of this.

'Insolent young spawn of ingratitude and guilt,how long must I submit to be trod upon thus;and yet why should Imurmur--his day is even now declining-- and if I live a year,I shall see the darkness cover him and his for ever.Scarce half his broad estates shall save him--but I must wait--I am but a pauper now--a beggar's accusation is always a libel--they must reward me soon--and were Iindependent once,I'd make them feel my power,and feel it SO,that I should die the richest or the best avenged servant of a great man that has ever been heard of--yes,I must wait--I must make sure of something at least--I must be able to stand by myself--and then--and then--'

He clutched his fingers together,as if in the act of strangling the object of his hatred.'But one thing shall save him--but one thing only--he shall pay me my own price--and if he acts liberally,as no doubt he will do,upon compulsion,why he saves his reputation--perhaps his neck --the insolent young whelp yonder would speak in an humbler key if he but knew his father's jeopardy--but all in good time.'

He now stood upon the long,steep,narrow bridge,which crossed the river close to Carrigvarah,the family mansion of the O'Maras;he looked back in the direction in which he had left his companion,and leaning upon the battlement,he ruminated long and moodily.At length he raised himself and said:

'He loves the girl,and WILL love her more--I have an opportunity of winning favour,of doing service,which shall bind him to me;yes,he shall have the girl,if I have art to compass the matter.I must think upon it.'

He entered the avenue and was soon lost in the distance.

Days and weeks passed on,and young O'Mara daily took his rod and net,and rambled up the river;and scarce twelve hours elapsed in which some of those accidents,which invariably bring lovers together,did not secure him a meeting of longer or shorter duration,with the beautiful girl whom he so fatally loved.

One evening,after a long interview with her,in which he had been almost irresistibly prompted to declare his love,and had all but yielded himself up to the passionate impulse,upon his arrival at home he found a letter on the table awaiting his return;it was from his father to the following effect:

'To Richard O'Mara.

'September,17--,L--m,England.