The Complete Works of Stephen Crane (76 page)

“I intend that same thing, your Reverence;” for now I was as stubborn as the old gentleman himself, and it was not likely I was going to be put off my course when I remembered the happiness that was ahead of me; but there’s little use in trying to explain to an aged priest what a young man is willing to do for the love of the sweetest girl in all the land.

“O’Ruddy,” he said, “you’ll be put in prison. It’s the inside of a gaol, and not the inside of a castle, you’ll see. It’s not down the aisle of a church you’ll march with your bride on your arm, but its hobbling over the cobbles of a Newgate passage you’ll go with manacles on your legs. Take warning from me, my poor boy, who would be heart-broken to see harm come to you, and don’t run your neck into the hangman’s noose, thinking it the matrimonial halter. Turn back while there’s yet time, O’Ruddy.”

“Believe me, Father Donovan, it grieves me to refuse you anything, but I cannot turn back.”

“You’ll be breaking the law of the land.”

“But the law of the land is broken every day in our district of Ireland, and not too many words said about it.”

“Oh, O’Ruddy, that’s a different thing. The law of the land in Ireland is the law of the alien.”

“Father, you’re not logical. It’s the alien I’m going to fight here,” — but before the father could reply we saw ahead of us the bulky form of Tom Peel, and ranged alongside of the road, trying to look very stiff and military-like, was the most awkward squad of men I had ever clapped eyes on; but determined fellows they were, as I could see at a glance when I came fornenst them, and each man pulled a lock of his hair by way of a salute.

“Do you men understand the use of a sword and a pistol?” said I.

The men smiled at each other as though I was trying some kind of a joke on them.

“They do, your honour,” answered Tom Peel on their behalf. “Each one of them can sling a cutlass to the king’s taste, and fire a pistol without winking, and there are now concealed in the hedge half a dozen blunderbusses in case they should be needed. They make a loud report and have a good effect on the enemy, even when they do no harm.”

“Yes, we’ll have the blunderbusses,” said I, and with that the men broke rank, burst through the hedge, and came back with those formidable weapons. “I have ammunition in the carts,” I said, “did you see anything of them?”

“The carts have gone on to the west, your honour; but we’ll soon overtake them,” and the men smacked their lips when they thought of the one that had the barrels in it. Now Paddy came forward with the pistols, and Bottles followed and gave each man a blade, while I gave each his money.

“O dear! O dear!” groaned Father Donovan.

“There’s just a chance we may be attacked before we get to Brede, and, Father, though I am loath to say good-bye, still it must be said. It’s rare glad I’ll be when I grip your hand again.”

“All in good time; all in good time,” said Father Donovan; “I’ll go a bit farther along the road with you and see how your men march. They would fight better and better behind a hedge than in the open, I’m thinking.”

“They’ll not have to fight in the open, Father,” said I, “but they’ll be comfortably housed if we get there in time. Now, Peel, I make you captain of the men, as you’ve got them together, and so, Forward, my lads.”

They struck out along the road, walking a dozen different kinds of steps, although there were only nine of them; some with the swords over their shoulders, some using them like walking-sticks, till I told them to be more careful of the points; but they walked rapidly and got over the ground, for the clank of the five guineas that was in each man’s pocket played the right kind of march for them.

“Listen to reason, O’Ruddy, and even now turn back,” said Father Donovan.

“I’ll not turn back now,” said I, “and, sure, you can’t expect it of me. You’re an obstinate man yourself, if I must say so, Father.”

“It’s a foolhardy exploit,” he continued, frowning. “There’s prison at the end of it for some one,” he murmured.

“No, it’s the House of Brede, Father, that’s at the end of it.”

“Supposing the Earl of Westport brings a thousand men against you, — what are you going to do?”

“Give them the finest fight they have ever seen in this part of England.”

In spite of himself I saw a sparkle in Father Donovan’s eye. The nationality of him was getting the better of his profession.

“If it were legitimate and lawful,” at last he said, “it would be a fine sight to see.”

“It will be legitimate and lawful enough when the Earl and myself come to terms. You need have no fear that we’re going to get into the courts, Father.”

“Do you think he’ll fight?” demanded the father suddenly, with a glint in his eyes that I have seen in my own father’s when he was telling us of his battles in France.

“Fight? Why of course he’ll fight, for he’s as full of malice as an egg’s full of meat; but nevertheless he’s a sensible old curmudgeon, when the last word’s said, and before he’ll have it noised over England that his title to the land is disputed he’ll give me what I want, although at first he’ll try to master me.”

“Can you depend on these men?”

“I think I can. They’re old smugglers and pirates, most of them.”

“I wonder who the Earl will bring against you?” said Father Donovan, speaking more to himself than to me. “Will it be farmers or regular soldiers?”

“I expect they will be from among his own tenantry; there’s plenty of them, and they’ll all have to do his bidding.”

“But that doesn’t give a man courage in battle?”

“No, but he’ll have good men to lead them, even if he brings them from London.”

“I wouldn’t like to see you attacked by real soldiers; but I think these men of yours will give a good account of themselves if there’s only peasantry brought up against them. Sure, the peasantry in this country is not so warlike as in our own,” — and there was a touch of pride in the father’s remark that went to my very heart.

After riding in silence for a while, meditating with head bowed, he looked suddenly across at me, his whole face lighted up with delicious remembrance.

“Wouldn’t you like to have Mike Sullivan with you this day,” he cried, naming the most famous fighter in all the land, noted from Belfast to our own Old Head of Kinsale.

“I’d give many a guinea,” I said, “to have Mike by my side when the Earl comes on.”

The old father suddenly brought down his open hand with a slap on his thigh.

“I’m going to stand by you, O’Ruddy,” he said.

“I’m glad to have your blessing on the job at last, Father,” said I; “for it was sore against me to go into this business when you were in a contrary frame of mind.”

“You’ll not only have my blessing, O’Ruddy, but myself as well. How could I sail across the ocean and never know which way the fight came out? and then, if it is to happen in spite of me, the Lord pity the frailness of mankind, but I’d like to see it. I’ve not seen a debate since the Black Fair of Bandon.”

By this time we had overtaken the hirelings with their carts, and the men were swinging past them at a good pace.

“Whip up your horses,” said I to the drivers, “and get over the ground a little faster. It’s not gunpowder that’s in those barrels, and when we reach the house there will be a drink for every one of you.”

There was a cheer at this, and we all pushed on with good hearts. At last we came to a lane turning out from the main road, and then to the private way through fields that led to Brede House. So far there had been no one to oppose us, and now, setting spurs to our horses, we galloped over the private way, which ran along the side of a gentle hill until one end of the mansion came into view. It seemed likely there was no suspicion who we were, for a man digging in the garden, stood up and took off his cap to us. The front door looked like the Gothic entrance of a church, and I sprang from my horse and knocked loudly against the studded oak. An old man opened the door without any measure of caution, and I stepped inside. I asked him who he was, and he said he was the caretaker.

“How many beside yourself are in this house?”

He said there was only himself, his wife, and a kitchen wench, and two of the gardeners, while the family was in London.

“Well,” said I, “I’d have you know that I’m the family now, and that I’m at home. I am the owner of Brede estate.”

“You’re not the Earl of Westport!” said the old man, his eyes opening wide.

“No, thank God, I’m not!”

He now got frightened and would have shut the door, but I gently pushed him aside. I heard the tramp of the men, and, what was more, the singing of a sea song, for they were nearing the end of their walk and thinking that something else would soon pass their lips besides the tune. The old man was somewhat reassured when he saw the priest come in; but dismay and terror took hold of him when the nine men with their blunderbusses and their swords came singing around a corner of the house and drew up in front of it. By and by the carts came creaking along, and then every man turned to and brought the provisions inside of the house and piled them up in the kitchen in an orderly way, while the old man, his wife, the wench, and the two gardeners stood looking on with growing signs of panic upon them.

“Now, my ancient caretaker,” said I to the old man, in the kindest tones I could bring to my lips, so as not to frighten him more than was already the case, “what is the name of that little village over yonder?” and I pointed toward the west, where, on the top of a hill, appeared a church and a few houses.

“That, sir,” he said, with his lips trembling, “is the village of Brede.”

“Is there any decent place there where you five people can get lodging; for you see that this house is now filled with men of war, and so men of peace should be elsewhere? Would they take you in over at the village?”

“Yes, sir, it is like they would.”

“Very well. Here is three guineas to divide among you, and in a week or thereabouts you will be back in your own place, so don’t think disaster has fallen on you.”

The old man took the money, but seemed in a strange state of hesitancy about leaving.

“You will be unhappy here,” I said, “for there will be gun-firing and sword-playing. Although I may not look it, I am the most bloodthirsty swordsman in England, with a mighty uncertain temper on me at times. So be off, the five of you!”

“But who is to be here to receive the family?” he asked.

“What family?”

“Sir, we had word last night that the Earl of Westport and his following would come to this house to-day at two of the clock, and we have much ado preparing for them; for the messenger said that he was bringing many men with him. I thought at first that you were the men, or I would not have let you in.”