“and he would never leave it again. Perhaps
he might teach himself there to endure the eyes and
voices of men around him. Nothing at any rate
should induce him to come again to London.”
And so he went home to bed in a mood by no means so
happy as might have been expected from the result of
the day’s doings. And yet he had been cheerful
enough when he went to Mr. Die’s chambers in
the morning.
ANOTHER JOURNEY
On the following day he did go back to Ireland, stopping
a night in Dublin on the road, so that his mother
might receive his letter, and that his cousin and
Somers might receive those written by Mr. Prendergast.
He spent one night in Dublin, and then went on, so
that he might arrive at Castle Richmond after dark.
In his present mood he dreaded to be seen returning,
even by his own people about the place.
At Buttevant he was met by his own car and by Richard,
as he had desired; but he found that he was utterly
frustrated as to that method of seating himself in
his vehicle which he had promised to himself.
He was still glum and gloomy enough when the coach
stopped, for he had been all alone, thinking over
many things—thinking of his father’s
death and his mother’s early life—of
all that he had suffered and might yet have to suffer,
and above all things dreading the consciousness that
men were talking of him and staring at him. In
this mood he was preparing to leave the coach when
he found himself approaching near to that Buttevant
stage; but he had more to go through at present than
he expected.
“There’s his honour—Hurrah!
God bless his sweet face that’s come among us
agin this day! Hurrah for Sir Herbert, boys! hurrah!
The rail ould Fitzgerald ’ll be back agin among
us, glory be to God and the Blessed Virgin! Hurrah
for Sir Herbert!” and then there was a shout
that seemed to be repeated all down the street of Buttevant.
But that was nothing to what was coming. Herbert,
when he first heard this, retreated for a moment back
into the coach. But there was little use in that.
It was necessary that he should descend, and had he
not done so he would have been dragged out. He
put his foot on the steps, and then found himself
seized in the arms of a man outside, and pressed and
embraced as though he had been a baby.
“Ugh, ugh, ugh!” exclaimed a voice, the
owner of which intended to send forth notes of joy;
but so overcome was he by the intensity of his own
feelings that he was in nowise able to moderate his
voice either for joy or sorrow.
“Ugh, ugh, ugh! Eh! Sir Herbert! but
it’s I that am proud to see yer honour this
day,—wid yer ouwn name, wid yer ouwn name.
Glory be to God; oh dear! oh dear! And I knew
the Lord’d niver forgit us that way, and let
the warld go intirely wrong like that. For av
you weren’t the masther, Sir Herbert, as you
are, the Lord presarve you to us, divil a masther’d
iver be able to hould a foot in Castle Richmond, and
that’s God’s ouwn thruth.”
