Roland Cashel, Volume I (of II)

CHAPTER XVIII. UNDER THE GREEN-WOOD TREE

When Tom Linton parted with Mr. Meek he repaired to the club in Kildare Street to listen to the gossip on the rumored dissolution of Parliament, and pick up what he could of the prevailing tone among the country gentry.

His appearance was eagerly hailed by many, who regarded him as generally well informed on all the changes and turns of party warfare; but, as he professed the most complete ignorance of everything, and seemed to devour with greedy curiosity the most commonplace announcements, he was speedily deserted and suffered to pursue his work of inquiry perfectly unmolested. Not that indeed there was much to learn; the tone of banter and raillery with which, from want of all real political influence, men in Ireland accustom themselves to discuss grave questions, concealing their real sentiments, or investing them with a ludicrous exaggeration, oftentimes foiled even the shrewd perception of Tom Linton.

He did, however, learn so much as showed him, that all the ordinary landmarks of party being lost, men were beginning to find themselves at liberty to adopt any leadership which pleased them, without suffering the stain of desertion. They thought themselves betrayed by each of the great political chiefs in turn, and began to fancy that the best course for them in future would be to make specific terms for any support they should accord. Suggestions to this end thrown out in all the bantering gayety of Irish manner might mean anything, or nothing, and so Linton well knew, as he listened to them.

He had taken his place at a whist-table, that he might, while seemingly preoccupied, hear what was said around him, and although no error of play, nor a single mistake in the game, marked the different direction of his attention, he contrived to learn much of the opinion prevalent in certain circles.

“That is the luckiest fellow in Europe,” said one of his late antagonists; “as usual he rises the only winner.”

“You can scarcely call it luck,” said another; “he is a first-rate player, and always so cool.”

Meanwhile, Linton, mounting his horse, rode slowly along the streets till he arrived at Bilton’s Hotel, where a handsome britzska was standing, whose large up-standing horses and richly-mounted harnessing gave token of London rather than of Dublin taste.

“Is her Ladyship going out, Halpin?” said he to the footman.

“Her Ladyship ordered the carriage for four precisely, sir.”

Linton mused for a second or two, and then asked if Lord Kilgoff were at home, and not waiting for a reply, passed on.

No sooner, however, had he reached the landing-place, and was beyond the observation of the servant, than he halted and appeared to reflect At last, as if having made his resolve, he turned to descend the stairs, when the drawing-room door opened and Lord Kilgoff appeared.

“The very man I wanted. Linton, come here,” cried he, re-entering the room.

“I was just on my way to you, my Lord,” said Linton, with well-affected eagerness.

“Are they out, Linton, are they ‘out’?” said he, in breathless impatience.

“No, my Lord. I’ve seen Meek; they’re safe for the present. A coalition has been formed with O’Morgan and his party, which secures a working majority of forty-five or fifty.”

“This is certain, Linton; may I rely upon it?”

“You may, my Lord, with confidence.”

“Then I suppose the moment has come when my adhesion would be most well-timed. It’s a grave question, Tom; everything depends on it. If I join them and they go out – ”

“Why, your Lordship goes out too, without ever having the satisfaction of being ‘in.’”

“Not if they gave me the mission to Florence, Tom. They never remove the smaller legations in any change of parties.”

“But you could not help resigning, my Lord; you should follow your friends,” said Linton, with an assumed air of high principle.

“Not a bit of it; I ‘d hold on. I see no reason whatever for such a course. I have made a rough draft of a letter which Hindley should show to Peel. See here, this is the important passage. I presuppose that I had already given Hindley my resignation to hand in to Aberdeen, but that yielding to his arguments, who refuses to deliver it, I have reconsidered the matter. Now, listen: ‘You say that my functions are not of a nature to admit any line of partisanship, and that a man of honorable views can serve his country under a Whig or Tory administration, irrespective of his own preference for one or the other. I feel this to be true. I know that, in my own official career, I have always forgotten the peculiar politics of my masters; but another question arises, – how shall I be judged by others? for while I confess to you that I entertain for Peel’s capacity a respect I have never been able to feel for the Whig leaders, yet family prejudices, connections, a hundred minor circumstances, some purely accidental, threw me among the ranks of that party, and a sense of consistency kept me where very probably unbiassed judgment had never suffered me to remain.’”

“Amazingly good! very well done, indeed!” said Linton, in whose dubious smile younger eyes than Lord Kilgoff’s might have read the most insolent expression of contempt; not, indeed, at the hypocrisy, but at the poor attempt to give it color. “There could be no thought of removing a man with such sentiments.”

“I think not, Linton. It would be a gross and flagrant case of official tyranny to do so, – a case for inquiry in the House, – a motion to produce the correspondence – ”

“Better not, my Lord,” said Linton, dryly; “that is an admirable letter addressed to your friend, Lord Hindley; but in a blue book it won’t read so well. Take my advice: hold on if you can, go if you must, but don’t ask questions, at all events.”

“Perhaps you are right, Tom,” said Kilgoff, musing.

“Now for another point, my Lord; this visit to Mr. Cashel – ”

“I ‘ve declined it,” said Lord Kilgoff, reddening, and with a look of extreme irritation. “The note is there sealed on the table, and shall be sent within an hour.”

“I am not at liberty to ask your reasons, my Lord,” said Linton, gravely and respectfully, “but I am certainly free to state my own, why I think you ought most positively to go there.”

“You may, certainly,” said Lord Kilgoff, rising impatiently, and pacing the room; “I shall not interrupt you, but I shall also pledge myself not to let them influence me in the slightest degree. My mind is made up, sir.”

“Then I shall speak with more freedom,” said Linton, boldly; “because, having no pretension to change your sentiments, I am merely desirous to record my own.”

Lord Kilgoff made no reply, but continued his walk, while Linton resumed: —

“Now I see your impatience, my Lord, and will not trespass on it. Here, in three words, is my case. The borough of Drumkeeran returns a member to Parliament; Hebden, who represents it, is about to accept the Hundreds; Cashel owns the town.”

“And if he does, sir, what signifies it to me?” broke in Lord Kilgoff; “I have not the slightest influence over that gentleman’s opinions. He was rude enough to give me a very flat contradiction in the only discussion we ever held together. I venture to assert, from what I have seen of him, that any direction of his course in Parliament would be totally impossible. He is self-willed, obstinate, and opinionated.”

“Granted, my Lord; he is the very calibre to run through his own, and ruin any other man’s fortune.”

“Well, sir, and this is the person whose services you think it worth my while obtaining?”

“I never said so, my Lord.”

“What! did n’t I hear you this moment – ”

“No, you heard me say that the borough is his, but you never heard me say that he ought to be its member. For that honor I had another in my eye, – one over whom your Lordship’s influence has never yet been doubted.”

“Whom do you mean?”

“Tom Linton, my Lord; a very unworthy, but a most devoted partisan of your Lordship’s.”

“What! Tom —you in Parliament?”

“Even so, my Lord,” said Linton, for once in his life – perhaps, the only time – that a flash of angry meaning colored his calm features. “I am sorry that the notion should so palpably wake your Lordship’s amazement.”

“No – no – no! I did n’t mean that. I was only surprised. In fact, you took me unawares – we were talking of Cashel.”

“Precisely, my Lord; we were discussing the probable career of a person so eminently gifted with statesmanlike qualities; then, how could I possibly hope for patience when introducing to your notice abilities so humble as my own?”

“But is it possible – is this practicable, Linton?”

“With your assistance it is certain. The influence of your Lordship’s rank would give such weight to your opinions, that if you were only to say to him, ‘Send Linton into Parliament as your member,’ the thing is done.”

“I have my doubts.”

“I have none whatever – I know the man well. He is dying to conform to anything that he supposes to be the discipline of his class. Tell him he ought, and he never resists.”

“I have resolved on not paying this visit,” said Kilgoff, after a brief pause; “reasons of sufficient weight determined me.”

“Oh, my Lord, pardon the freedom, but I must say that they had need be strong reasons to weigh against all the advantages I can show from the opposite course.”

“They are, sir, very strong reasons, nor do I deem it necessary to advert to them again; enough that I esteem them sufficient.”

“Of course, my Lord, I never dreamed of calling them in question; they must needs be cogent arguments which counterpoise the opposite scale – a high diplomatic career – a representative peerage – this there could be no doubt of.”

“How do you mean?” broke in Kilgoff, abruptly.

“Simply that this young man becomes your trump card, if you only please to take him up. As yet he has resisted the advances made by Downie Meek and his set, because of my watchfulness; but sooner or later some party will catch him, and when one thinks how few men with a large unencumbered fortune we possess here, with a great county interest, two boroughs, for he owns Knockgarvan as well, the prize is really worth having, particularly as it only needs the stretching out the hand to take.”

Lord Kilgoff mused and seemed to ponder over the words. He entertained small doubts of his “friend” Linton’s capacity; but he had very considerable suspicions of his principles, and it is a strange fact that people willing to commit very gross breaches of fair dealing themselves are exceedingly scrupulous respecting the fair fame of their associates in iniquity, so admirably accommodating is a worldly conscience!

“Well, sir,” said he, at length, “the price – name the price. What are we to pay for the article? – that is the question.”

“I have said, my Lord, it is to be had for asking. Your Lordship has only to take the territory, as our naval men do the chance islands they meet with in the Southern Pacific. Land and plant your flag —voilà tout!”

“But you have heard me observe already,” said he, in a querulous tone, “that I dislike the prospect of this visit – that in fact it would be exceedingly disagreeable to me.”

“Then I have nothing more to say, my Lord,” said Linton, coolly, while he took up his hat and gloves. “I can only congratulate you on the excellence of your political prospects, which can dispense with a strong alliance to be had so easily.”

“Our measures of value are very different, Mr. Linton,” said Lord Kilgoff, proudly. “Still, to prove that this is no caprice on my part,” – here he stopped abruptly, while his heightened color showed the degree of embarrassment he labored under, – “to show you that I have – in order to explain my motives – ” Here he took a cautious glance around the room, walked to the door, opened and shut it again, and then drawing his arm within Linton’s, led him towards a window. For a second or two he seemed undecided, and at last, by a great effort, he whispered a few words in Linton’s ear.

Had any third party been there to watch the effect of the whispered confidence, he might easily have read in the speaking brilliancy of Linton’s eyes, and in his assured look, that it was of a nature to give him the greatest pleasure. But scarce had his Lordship done speaking, when these signs of pleasure gave way to a cold, almost stern air of morality, and he said, “But surely, my Lord, it were far better to leave her Ladyship to deal with such insolent pretension – ”

“Hush, not so loud; speak lower. So I should, Linton, but women never will see anything in these airs of puppyism. They persist in thinking, or saying, at least, that they are mere modern fashionable manners, and this endurance on their part gives encouragement. And then, when there happens to be some disparity of years – Lady Kilgoff is my junior – the censorious world seizes on the shadow of a scandal; in fact, sir, I will not consent to afford matter for newspaper asterisks or figurative description.”

“Your Lordship never had a better opportunity of giving open defiance to both. These airs of Cashel are, as you remark, mere puppyism, assumed to get credit for a certain fashionable character for levity. To avoid him would be to acknowledge that there was danger in his society. I don’t go so far as to say that he would assert as much, but most assuredly the world would for him. I think I hear the ready comments on your absence: ‘Were not the Kilgoffs expected here?’ ‘Oh, they were invited, but Lord Kilgoff was afraid to venture. Cashel had been paying attentions.’ In a word, every species of impertinence that malevolence and envy can fancy would be fabricated. Your Lordship knows the world far better than I do; and knows, besides, the heavy price a man pays for being the possessor of a high capacity and a handsome wife: these are two insults that the less fortunate in life never do, or never can forgive.”

“Well, what is it you counsel?”

“To meet these calumnies in the face; small slanders, like weak fires, are to be trampled out; to tamper with such, is to fan the flame which at last will scorch you. Besides, to take another view of the matter: her Ladyship is young, and has been much admired; how will she accept this seclusion? I don’t speak of the present case; besides, I suppose that this country visit would bore her beyond measure. But how will she regard it in other instances? Is it not an implied fear on your Lordship’s part? you, who have really nothing to dread in competition with any man. I only know, if I were in your place, how I should actually seize the very opportunity of openly flouting such calumnious rumor; never was there an occasion to do so on cheaper terms. This Roland Cashel is an underbred boy.”

“There is a great deal in what you say, Linton. But as jealousy is a feeling of which I have never had any experience, I was only anxious on Lady Kilgoff’s account, that the thoughtless gayety of a very young and handsome woman should not expose her to the sarcastic insinuations of an impertinent world. She is gay in manner; there is an air of lively imagination – ”

“No more than what the French call ‘amabilité,’ my Lord, which, like the famed armor of Milan is not the less defensive that it is so beautiful in all its details.”

“Well, then, I ‘ll not send the note,” said Lord Kilgoff, as he took up the letter, and tearing it, threw the fragments into the fire; “of course, Linton, this conversation is strictly confidential?”

“Your Lordship has never found me unworthy of such a trust.”

“Never; nor, I must say, would it be for your advantage to become so.”

Linton bit his lip, and for a second or two seemed burning to make a rejoinder; but overcoming the temptation, assumed his careless smile, and said, —

“I leave you, my Lord, greatly gratified that chance led me to pay this visit. I sincerely believe, that in the counsels I have offered, I have at least been able to be of service to you.”

Lord Kilgoff presented his hand in acknowledgment of the speech, but it was accorded with an air which seemed to say, “Well, here is a receipt in full for your devotedness.”

Linton took it in the same spirit, and left the room, as though deeply impressed with all the honor he enjoyed in such a noble friendship.

Hastening down the stairs, he sprang into the saddle of his horse, and cantering up the street, turned towards the road which leads to the Phoenix Park. It was about the hour when the equipages were wont to throng that promenade, but Linton did not seem desirous of joining that gay crowd, for he took a cross-path through the fields, and after a sharp ride of half-an-hour, reached a low paling which skirted the park on the eastward; here, at a small cottage kept by one of the rangers, a little door led in, passing through which he found himself in one of the long green alleys of that beautiful tract. A boy, who seemed to be ready waiting, now took his horse, and Linton entered the wood and disappeared. He did not proceed far, however, within the shady copse, for after going a short distance he perceived a carriage standing in the lane, by the door of which a footman waited, with a shawl upon his arm. The coachman, with his whip posed, sat talking with his fellow-servant, so that Linton saw that the carriage had no occupant.