The Black Baronet; or, The Chronicles Of Ballytrain Part 84

Nancy's face was now like a cloudless sky. "Well," she replied, "maybe there's truth in that, and maybe there's not; but I hope you are takin'

care of yourself? That's what I always did and ever will, plaise G.o.d.

How do you like the ham?"

"Divil a so well dressed a bit o' ham ever I ett--it melts into one's mouth like a kiss from a purty woman. Troth, Nancy, I think I'm kissing you ever since I began to ait it."

"Get out," said Nancy, laughing; "troth, you're a quare one; but you know our Wickla' hams is famous."

"And so is your Wicklow girls," replied Dandy; "but for my part, I'd sooner taste their lips than the best hams that ever were ett any day."

"Well, but," said Nancy, "did you ever taste our bacon? bekaise, if you didn't, lave off what you're at, and in three skips I'll get you a rasher and eggs that'll make you look nine ways at once. Here, throw that by, it's could, and I'll get you something hot and comfortable."

"Go on," replied Dandy; "I hate idleness. Get the eggs and rasher you spake of, and while you're doin' it I'll thry and amuse myself wid what's before me. Industhry's the first of virtues, Nancy, and next to that comes perseverance; I defy you in the mane time to do a rasher as well as you did this ham--hoeh--och--och. G.o.d bless me, a bit was near stickin' in my throat. Is your wather good here? and the raison why I ax you is, that I'm the devil to plaise in wather; and on that account I seldom take it without a sup o' spirits to dilute it, as the docthors say, for, indeed, that's the way it agrees with me best. It's a kind of family failin' with us--devil a one o' my blood ever could look a gla.s.s of mere wather in the face without blus.h.i.+n'."

Dandy was now upon what they call the simplicity dodge; that is to say, he affected that character of wisdom for which certain individuals, whose knowledge of life no earthly experience ever can improve, are so extremely anxious to get credit. Every word he uttered was accompanied by an oafish grin, so ludicrously balanced between simplicity and cunning, that Nancy, who had been half her life on the lookout for such a man, and who knew that this indecision of expression was the characteristic of the tribe with which she cla.s.sed him, now saw before her the great dream of her heart realized.

"Well, in troth," she replied, "you are a quare man; but still it would be too bad to make you blush for no stronger raison than mere wather.

So, in the name o' goodness, here's a tumbler of grog," she added, filling him out one on the instant, "and as you're so modest, you must only drink it and keep your countenance; it'll prepare you, besides, for the rasher and eggs; and, by the same token, here's an ould candle-box that's here the Lord knows how long; but, faix, now it must help to do the rasher. Come then; if you are stronger than I am, show your strength, and pull it to pieces, for you see I can't."

It was one of those flat little candle-boxes made of deal, with which every one in the habit of burning moulds is acquainted. Dandy took it up, and whilst about to pull it to pieces, observed written on a paper label, in a large hand, something between writing and print, "Mrs.

Norton, Summerfield Cottage, Wicklow."

"What is this?" said he; "what name is this upon it? Let us see, 'Mrs.

Norton, Summerfield Cottage, Wicklow!' Who the d.i.c.kens is Mrs. Norton?"

"Why, my present mistress," replied Nancy; "Mr. Mainwaring is her second husband, and her name was Mrs. Norton before she married him."

"Norton," said Dandy, whose heart was going at full speed, with a hope that he had at length got into the right track, "it's a purty name in troth. Arra, Nancy, do you know was your misthress ever in France?"

"Ay, was she," replied Nancy. "Many a year maid to--let me see--what's this the name is? Ay! Cullamore. Maid to the wife of Lord Cullamore. So I was tould by Alley Mahon, a young woman that was here on a visit to me."

Dandy put the gla.s.s of grog to his mouth, and having emptied it, sprung to his feet, commenced an Irish jig through the kitchen, in a spirit so outrageously whimsical--buoyant, mad, hugging the box all the time in his arms, that poor Nancy looked at him with a degree of alarm and then of jealousy which she could not conceal.

"In the name of all that's wonderful," she exclaimed, "what's wrong--what's the matter? What's the value of that blackguard box that you make the mistake about in huggin' it that way? Upon my conscience, one would think you're in a desolate island. Remember, man alive, that you're among flesh and blood like your own, and that you have friends, although the acquaintance isn't very long, I grant, that wishes you betther than to see you makin' a sweetheart of a tallow-box. What the sorra is that worth?"

"A hundred pounds, my darlin'--a hundred pounds--bravo, Dandy--well done, brave Dulcimer--wealthy Nancy. Faith, you may swear upon the frying-pan there that I've the cash, and sure 'tis yourself I was lookin' out for."

"I don't think, then, that ever I resembled a candle-box in my life,"

she replied, rather annoyed that the article in question came in for such a prodigality of his hugs, kisses, and embraces, of all shapes and characters.

"Well, Nancy," said he, "charming Nancy, you're my fancy, but in the meantime I have the honor and pleasure to bid you a good day."

"Why, where are you goin'?" asked the woman. "Won't you wait for the rasher?"

"Keep it hot, charming Nancy, till I come back; I'm just goin' to take a const.i.tutional walk." So saying, Dandy, with the candle-box under his arm, darted out of the kitchen, and without waiting to know whether there was an answer to be brought back or not, mounted his jarvey, and desiring the man to drive as if the devil and all his imps were at their heels, set off at full speed for the city.

"Bad luck to you for a scamp," exclaimed the indignant cook, shouting after him; "is that the way you trate a decent woman after gettin' your skinful of the best? Wait till you put your nose in this kitchen again, an' it'a different fare you'll get."

On reaching his master's hotel, Dandy went upstairs, where he found him preparing to go out. He had just sealed a note, and leaning himself back on the chair, looked at his servant with a good deal of surprise, in consequence of the singularity of Ms manner. Dandy, on the other hand, took the candle-box from under his arm, and putting it flat on the table, with the label downwards, placed his two hands upon it, and looked the other right in the face; after which he closed one eye, and gave him a very knowing wink.

"What do you mean, you scoundrel, by this impudence?" exclaimed his master, although at the same time he could not avoid laughing; for, in truth, he felt a kind of presentiment, grounded upon Dandy's very a.s.surance, that he was the bearer of some agreeable intelligence. "What do you mean, sirra? You're drunk, I think."

"Hi tell you what, sir," replied Dandy, "from this day out, upon my soul, I'll patronize you like a man as I am; that is to say, provided you continue to deserve it."

"Come, sirra, you're at your buffoonery again, or else you're drunk, as I said. Did the lady send any reply?"

"Have you any cash to spare?" replied Dandy. "I want to invest a thrifle in the funds."

"What can this impudence mean, sirra?" asked the other, sadly puzzled to understand his conduct. "Why do you not reply to me? Did the lady send an answer?"

"Most fortunate of all masthers," replied Dandy, "in havin' such a servant; the lady did send an answer."

"And where is it, sirra?"

"There it is!" replied the other, shoving the candle-box triumphantly over to him, The stranger looked steadily at him, and was beginning to lose his temper, for he took it now for granted that his servant was drunk.

"I shall dismiss you instantly, sirra," he said, "if you don't come to your senses."

"I suppose so," replied the other, still maintaining his cool, unabashed effrontery. "I dare say you will, just after I've made a man of you--changed you from nothing to something, or, rather, from n.o.body--for devil a much more you were up to the present time yet--to somebody. In the meantime, read the lady's answer, if you plaise."

"Where is it, you impudent knave? I see no note--no answer."

"Troth, sir, I am afeared many a time you were ornamented with the dunce's cap in your school-days, and well, I'll be bound, you became it.

Don't I say the answer's before you, there?"

"There is nothing here, you scoundrel, but a deal box."

"Eight, sir; and a deal of intelligence can it give you, if you have the sense to find it out. Now, listen, sir. So long as you live, ever and always examine both sides of every subject that comes before you, even if it was an ould deal box."

His master took the hint, and instantly turning the box, read to his astonishment, Mrs. Norton, Summerfield pottage, Wicklow, and then looked at Dandy for an explanation. The latter nodded with his usual easy confidence, and proceeded, "It's all right, sir--she was in France--own maid to Lady Cullamore--came home and got married--first to a Mr.

Norton, and next to a person named Mainwarin': and there she is, the true Mrs. Norton, safe and sound for you, in Summerfield Cottage, under the name of Mrs. Mainwarin'."

"Dandy," said his master, starting to his feet, "I forgive you a thousand times. Throw that letter in the post-office. You shall have the money, Dandy, more, perhaps, than I promised, provided this is the lady; but I cannot doubt it. I am now going to Mr. Birney; but, stay, let us be certain. How did you become acquainted with these circ.u.mstances?"

Dandy gave him his authority; after which his master put on his hat, and was about proceeding out, when the former exclaimed, "h.e.l.lo-sir, where are you goin'?"

"To see Birney, I have already told you."

"Come, come," replied his man, "take your time--be steady, now--be cool--and listen to what your friend has to say to you."

"Don't trifle with me now, Dandy; I really can't bear it."

"Faith, but you must, though. There's one act I patronized you in; now, how do you know, as I'm actin' the great man, but I can pathronize you in another?"

"How is that? For heaven's sake, don't trifle with me; every day, every hour, every moment, is precious, and may involve the happiness of--"

"I see, sir," replied this extraordinary valet, with an intelligent nod, "but, still, fair and aisy goes far in a day. There's no danger of her, you know--don't be unaisy. Fenton, sir--ehem--Fenton, I say--Fenton and fifty I say."

"Fenton and a hundred, Dandy, if there's an available trace of him."