I! 
 
 mm
 
 L I E. R.AR.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVER.5ITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 V. I
 
 
 
 THE ADVENTURES 
 
 OF 
 
 DOCTOR BRADY, 
 
 VOL. L
 
 THE ADVENTURES 
 
 OF 
 
 DOCTOE BEADY. 
 
 BT 
 
 WILLIAM HOWARD RUSSELL, 
 
 AUTHOR OP 
 
 LETTERS FROM THE CRIMEA," " MY DIARY IN INDIA,' 
 
 "my diary NORTH AND SOUTH," ETC. ETC. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. L 
 
 REPRINTED FROM TINSLEYS' MAGAZINE, 
 
 LONDON : 
 TINSLEY BROTHERS, 18, CATHERINE STREET, STRAND. 
 
 1868. 
 
 {_All rights of Translntion and Reproduction reserced.']
 
 LONDON : 
 
 €AVILL,EDWAHDS AlO) CO., PEINTEBS, CHANDOS STESET, 
 
 COVENT GAEDEN.
 
 
 TO 
 
 GENERAL SIR DE LACY EVANS 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 London, March, 18G8.
 
 Digitized by tine Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/adventuresofdoct01russ
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OP 
 
 THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 PAQB 
 
 I. " myself" 1 
 
 II. AT HOME 22 
 
 III. DOUBTS AND FEARS 47 
 
 IV. THE DISILLUSION 60 
 
 V. THE JOURNEY 85 
 
 VI. THE SCHOOL 99 
 
 VIL THE CRUISE 131 
 
 VIII. THE RETURN 177 
 
 IX, TRUTH AT LAST 198 
 
 X. THE BANSHEE 227 
 
 XI. OUT ON THE WORLD 239 
 
 XII. THE PROPRIETARY COLLEGE 248 
 
 XIII. MY TRIALS BEGIN 259 
 
 XIV. THE FLIGHT 275
 
 THE ADVENTURES 
 
 OF 
 
 DOCTOR BRADY, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 They speak of ^' tlie mist of years /^ Is it not 
 rather a dense dark cloudy through the ever-closing 
 chinks in which one seeks in vain to discern clearly 
 all the outlines of the scenery he has left behind him, 
 and to follow the exact course of the path which 
 has been trodden once and is never to be retraced ? 
 To my eyes, at least, as I look back there seems a 
 thick veil up-reared, through rifts in which I can 
 obtain but glimpses of the past. I am still at that 
 time of life which men of middle age term its 
 prime, but I attempt unavailingly to recall the 
 shapes and forms which once filled the whole ex- 
 panse of my little world. The recollections of our 
 
 VOL. I. 1
 
 2 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 childhood are like those we retain of last night's 
 sunset. We remember the beauty which floated in 
 the air in all its golden glories — the rapt delight 
 with which we gazed on the subtle play of light 
 tinted with the hues of heaven, but we cannot 
 summon each element to take its original order in 
 the mutations and progress of the glowing pageant. 
 We can only think of the general impression pro- 
 duced, or dwell on some particular combination 
 perhaps, which lasted for a moment, just as a 
 ruined castle, a clump of trees in a landscape, 
 or an incident in a day's travel are fixed in the 
 mind when all beside that pleased us is forgotten. 
 
 My most ancient memory is of a tender, large- 
 eyed face, for which I had a passion when I was 
 about four years old. I remember well the grey 
 eyes, the low, broad brow with bands of black hair 
 surmounted by a white cap, as the Alpine pine-belt 
 is crowned by snowfields — a face, whose expres- 
 sion hour after hour was the source of infinite 
 joy or distress to me ; but I cannot remember 
 much more of Honour Flynn, my nurse, than that 
 she was strong of hand and fleet of foot, and that 
 some years later I struggled with exceeding vehe- 
 mence and wrath to disentangle myself from the 
 embrace of a woman with a freckled face, who
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 6 
 
 caressed m.e, while great tears rolled down her nose, 
 exclaiming — 
 
 " Masther Terry^ shnre it^s yonr own Honour ! 
 yonr own dear nurse^ Honour,, darlin^^ that you 
 used to love so/^ 
 
 Alas ! that love had all died out ; four years had 
 made a clean sweep of my young aflPection^ and I 
 was almost angry with myself for ever having 
 allowed such a coarse person to have been on in- 
 timate terms with me. I can remember^ too, a 
 little lake, surrounded by trees, set in the midst of 
 a great meadow, beyond which I can see '^our 
 house '" and between me and the lake a swift 
 rivulet, filled with watercresses and sticklebacks, 
 which rippled away over a tiny bar of sand into 
 the larger stream that flowed into the lake. 
 There is a white-headed old man, in a grey 
 coat, with its tails in the water, standing out, 
 as it appears to me, in dreadful depths, waving 
 over his head a whip-like wand of vast proportions, 
 from which flies out in long curves a thin line, 
 flashing on the surface of the stream. There is a 
 spluttering and a plunging after a time at the end 
 of the line, and Macarthy retreats to the bank. 
 
 " There, Masther Terry ; there^s a purty throut for 
 ye ! Whist till I get the hook out ov him, that he 
 
 1—2
 
 4 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 mightn't hurt ye wid the teeth ov him. Put yer 
 purty little finger in his gill. There ! why he^s as 
 long as yerself, almost ! Maybe ye^d like to take 
 him up, and show him to the quality, alannah? 
 He's a bewtiful two pounds, that he is. Ould 
 Dan is able to put the comether on them 
 stiU.'' 
 
 I see that monster of the deep yet : his speckled 
 sides glistening with orange, red, and brown; his 
 awful rows of teeth, his curving snout, his goggle 
 eyes, and velvety dark red gills ; and I remember, 
 too, the roar of terror I gave, and the precipitate 
 flight I made through the meadow from the spot 
 where, with a sudden wriggle — I'ccovering a moment's 
 breath ere he died — he flopped his wet tail against 
 my legs, and wallopped in the long grass. I can 
 remember, also, the face of an auburn-haired boy, 
 striving to dash away the firm hand which sought 
 to give an extra polish to its shining skin, reflected 
 in the little mirror in my tiny bed-room, and the 
 secret marches I used to make to gaze on the same 
 portrait, wondering if it ever would be like Dan 
 Macarthy, or old Dr. Noble, whom I had heard 
 once informing the company after dinner that he 
 was the image of me when he was of the same age. 
 I have a photograph taken for my daughter, which
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 5 
 
 tells me that I have since become alarmingly like 
 Dr. Noble_, whom at that time I regarded as the 
 greatest sayer of the thing which was not_, recorded 
 in any of the story books I had made acquaintance 
 with. It was, I confess, a very great comfort in 
 those days to me to think that by no possibility 
 conld I ever become so ridiculously old as Dan 
 Macarthy or Dr. Noble, and from time to time I 
 confirmed any doubts I might have had on the 
 subject by consulting the glass again, flying fur- 
 tively away when a footstep approached, as if I had 
 an innate consciousness that it was a sin and a 
 shame to look at oneself, as Honour assured me it 
 was. But I was full of sin and shame ; my youth- 
 ful life was stained with them; and conscience 
 frowned at many undetected crimes, in regard to 
 cream and sugar, which never came to light. If I 
 were to set out to catch all the fleeting memories 
 which are passing now, as the shadows of clouds 
 glide over the fields, you would scarce care to join 
 me in the chase. Let me come to the days when 
 life itself began to write its records in those early 
 characters which survive later-formed alphabets. 
 The stems of the long grass seem still to twine 
 round my feet as I think of an early morning 
 walk with a ruddy-faced hale old man and tlic
 
 6 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 dainty little maiden on which occasion one of my 
 great offences was detected and punished. 
 
 It was a morning so bright and joyous that 
 the exuberance of the blessing causes a fuller 
 beating of the heart and an indefinable sense of 
 happiness and gratitude ! Little Mary Butler 
 had been sent over from "the Castle ^^ to stay 
 with us till the "new governess^^ came. The 
 governesses came and went very often at that 
 time^ when little Mary was young and wayward, 
 and Sir Richard was at home. 
 
 Mary, kindest and most winning of infant 
 women, had kept her promise, made over our morn- 
 ing meal of " stirabout and milk,"*^ and had asked 
 grandfather to let us go and see him fish in the 
 Carra. 
 
 " It^s that terrible young serpent, Terry, who has 
 put you up to it, Mary. Besides, you^ll get your 
 feet wet." 
 
 " No, indeed — indeed, Doctor, I'll give you my 
 honour," she exclaimed, putting her hand on a 
 puckered plait of white muslin, " I wont ; and I 
 wont let Terry fall into the river." 
 
 " Oh ! in that case, if you give me your 
 honour," quoth my grandfather, gravely, " tell 
 Dan to get the rod. I really will take you
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 7 
 
 both down to the Carra and kill a trout for 
 you/' 
 
 '' Kill— I don't like killing/' lisped little Mary. 
 " That was what Cain did to Abel. But Til look at 
 you catching them." 
 
 " But trout are not Abels, my dear/' said grand- 
 papa, smiling. ^'^And besides, they deserve killing 
 because of all the innocent creatures they kill on 
 their own account." 
 
 The Carra was a forbidden thing. I always longed 
 to get near it. But the brink was tabooed ever 
 after I had been forked one day out of a whirling 
 pool by Dan Macarthy. Many a time since then 
 had I stolen down to it, crouching in the meadows 
 to watch the tremendous tenants of its waters in 
 their splendour, when, detected and pursued, I had 
 been seized by the still more tremendous Honour, 
 swift of foot and strong of hand, and the dreadful 
 •words rang in my ear — 
 
 "Masther Terry, this time I'll shurely tell yer 
 granddada." But I had seen the stream and lis- 
 tened to its music. I had gazed on the minnows 
 floating, circling, sailing, darting, and quivering in 
 the watery crystal, and watched them fly in scurry- 
 ing fright over the pebbles as the king of all the 
 sticklebacks, with red gills and breast, and flashing
 
 8 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 eyes and bristling spines^ made a fierce foray on 
 the covenanting congregation from his lair beneath 
 the bulrush, or a tyrant trout slid from the outer 
 deeps and dashed in a hungry swirl through their 
 ranks. 
 
 I was anxious to explain all the wonders of my 
 particular deep to my companion. And so, as the 
 old squire walked along before us, casting his line 
 in vain, for the water was bright and low, and the 
 fish glinted away before him, we two, hand in hand, 
 wandered on and on, Mary picking flowers, and I 
 loitering on purpose and seeking to avoid old Dan, 
 who had strict orders not to let us '' tumble in,^' 
 and who dogged our footsteps like fate. 
 
 " Dan V said I, ^^ there's the squire calling '^ 
 (Dan was a little deaf). " Don't you hear him V 
 
 Mary looked at me with wondering eyes, and 
 listened too. 
 
 " I don't hear your grandpapa calling, Terence," 
 she said, quietly. 
 
 '' Ah ! but I do, Mary. There ! there ! he's 
 shouting for you, Dan." And as the old fellow, 
 after waiting a minute with his hand to his 
 ear, caught in the hollow of it the rumble of the 
 breeze, and started oflP, I whispered, laughingly — 
 " Now, you see, he's gone. The squire's ever so
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 9 
 
 far away;, and we'll have five miniites to ourselves. 
 Come along this way/^ 
 
 "And the squire didn't call?''' asked Mary_, as 
 she drew herself up^ and threw back her head, and 
 stared me full in the face. " Do you mean to say, 
 Terence, you've told — a fib V she gasped. 
 
 " Why, Mary, it's only out of fun — only to make 
 old Dan run away, and to be able to bring you 
 quite close to the water to show you something. 
 Come till you see," and I held out my hand. 
 
 But she was gone; flying as fast as her little 
 legs could carry her after Dan, and sobbing out, 
 " Oh ! wicked, wicked Terry, to tell such a fib V^ 
 as she flew. 
 
 I was astonished, and stood still for a moment ; 
 but as Dan was now coming back for me I trotted 
 along the path, little caring for his menacing fist in 
 the air and his scolding for my "thricks;" and 
 striving in vain to make friends with Mary, who, 
 with averted face, kept close to my grandfather, 
 and seemed only intent on adding to the store of 
 primroses and daisies in her lap. There was an 
 expression of deep sorrow and pity on her little 
 face, and when after a time I asked — '' Do, Mary, 
 please do make friends with me !" she replied, "No I 
 — not till you have said your prayers to-night and
 
 10 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 have shown you are sorry for telling a fib like that, 
 Terence V What a hard-hearted moralist she was, 
 and how sorry I felt she had such strict views, as 
 it quite spoiled a series of the splendid jokes I in- 
 tended to practise with her assistance. That was a 
 very bitter day to me ; and when my grandfather, 
 halting for a moment to exhibit a fish he had 
 caught, exclaimed — 
 
 " Why, Terry ! you and Mary are as quiet as 
 mice ; what-'s the matter with you, children V^ 
 
 I felt my face glow with a tingling blush as I 
 stammered — 
 
 '^ Mary^s cross with me for something, and wont 
 play with me !" 
 
 "Eh! — Mary cross? Why, it's you who look 
 more like cross than she does ! What is this all 
 about ?^' exclaimed the old gentleman, pausing in 
 the act of changing a fly, and scrutinizing us 
 through his spectacles — " Has he been teasing you, 
 my dear?'^ 
 
 " Oh ! no, indeed, dear Doctor V^ she said, with 
 her arms folding her apron full of flowers to her 
 heart, so that her face just surmounted the heap — 
 " Terence hasn't teased me at all. He is very 
 good and kind — that is, he meant it for fun, and to 
 please me — Oh, sir \" she cried, suddenly clasping
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 11 
 
 her hands together^ and letting all the flowers 
 tumble to her feet_, " don^t be angry — but Terence 
 vexed me because he told a fib — ^he^s sorry now, 
 Fm sure, and he^ll promise never to do it again if 
 you forgive him. Wont you, Terry ?^^ she added, 
 turning on me a look of entreaty I can recollect as 
 if it were yesterday. 
 
 " A fib ! — ^hem — a fib ! '' quoth my grandfather, 
 with a ^' March-brown^^ between his fingers ; " that 
 is indeed very wrong. What was it ? More white 
 than black, I hope. Come, as you have begun you 
 must go on with it, Mary, you know. Perhaps it^s 
 a hanging matter, and in that case we can march 
 the culprit off at once \" he added, with an odd 
 look about his face, ^^ for Fm a magistrate, you 
 know.^^ 
 
 Miss Mary Butler, with some hesitation of 
 speech, and a few glances at me, which said very 
 plainly she was sorry for me but must do her duty, 
 then laid before his worship with minute detail the 
 whole of my monstrous wickedness. I felt guilty 
 to the soles of my feet ; I dared not look up. 
 
 " Although I told him I did not hear you calling 
 before Dan began to run,''^ she concluded. 
 
 " Phew \" whistled the Doctor, softly ; " was 
 ever a more terrible case than this ? I wonder
 
 12 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 where this dreadful boy got sucli nauglity ideas, and 
 where on earth, my dear Mary, you were taught 
 such a love of truth ? Not at the castle. Til be 
 bound. No, indeed — no, indeed,'"' he said, putting 
 his hand over her dark curls ; ^' from Nature, my 
 child. You are your mother's true daughter, and 
 she had a monopoly of the good qualities of half 
 your house, at all events. And now/' he con- 
 tinued, turning to me, ^^you see, Terry, how you 
 have disgraced yourself! You can only be sorry 
 now, and promise to tell no more fibs ; but there is 
 no use in doing that unless you mean to keep your 
 word." 
 
 Was I not very sorry? And was I not very 
 glad when Mary took my hand and asked me not 
 to be angry with her, " because she could not help 
 it." 
 
 Many a day has that scene on the Carra 
 returned to me, and I have smiled at the recollec- 
 tion of everything about it except my little com- 
 panion's gravity, and the earnestness of her face, 
 and the great contentment of heart when all was at 
 an end. The lesson was too slight and the matter 
 too trifling to cause a deeper impression ; and my 
 grandfather's twinkling eye and smiling mouth told 
 me I had done no great harm after all.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 13 
 
 The old mansion^ whicli was dignified by the 
 name of Bradystown House^ and a few hundred 
 acres of what looked like a remanet from the 
 deluge — ^for a duck might consider it land and 
 a hen might regard it as water — were all that 
 remained to the family (of which my grandfather 
 declared he was the head in those parts) of a good 
 slice of the county that had once been theirs. The 
 house was a great block of red brick_, with stone 
 copings and a stucco portico^ to which an extremely 
 unfinished look was given by a small wing at one 
 side, which the last of the O^Bradys had not lived 
 — or indeed, had he lived, would not have had the 
 money — to complete. The edifice was only com- 
 menced in the beginning of the last century, after the 
 '^ castle^^ had been destroyed by a lieutenant of De 
 Ginkel, on his march to the Shannon, in order to 
 punish the owner, who had joined King James. The 
 ruins of the castle were near at hand, and a portion 
 of them served to close in the garden walls, and 
 were useful as cellars and as winter-sheds for cattle. 
 
 The house stood on a gentle elevation amid a 
 few old trees, in which a scanty array of faithful 
 rooks still found refuge, unseduced by the ampler 
 accommodation of the woods around the residence of 
 Sir Richard Desmond. Before the windows an ill-
 
 14 THE ADVENTUEES OF 
 
 kempt lawn, given up to pasturage, whicli rejoiced in 
 the title of "The demesne/^ gradually melted into 
 the waters of the lough, that spread away till it 
 merged in the " Bay of Carra^^ on one side, and on 
 the other opening into a series of large pools, 
 received the waters of the river, draining the 
 higher ridges of a great range of hills, on a spur 
 of which the architect had raised the family 
 mansion. There was little, indeed, of the land 
 which belonged to us that a farmer would have called 
 " land^^ at all. All the good acreage had gone bit 
 bv bit ; sometimes the bits were very large. Sir 
 Richard's drainage operations had delivered his 
 fields of the water, which was accorded so liberally 
 to ours that it would be hard to believe there was 
 a drop of moisture left on his farms. A few 
 wretched peasants held their little patches of moor, 
 rather as tenants by courtesy of the landlord 
 than by any monetary acknowledgment of their 
 obligations as occupants of arable and pasturage. 
 Their dwellings, scattered over the bog amid 
 patches of green, which marked the reclaimed land 
 — or rather, the soil not yet gone to waste — were like 
 huge manure heaps or exaggerated ant-hills : brown 
 tumuli without form, but by no means void, for 
 each of the tenants would have thought himself
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 15 
 
 poor indeed if he had not a family of many children, 
 to be used as so many arrows in his quiver when 
 doing battle with "the masther^^ or the agent 
 about an imaginary payment of rent. 
 
 And how had all this come about ? Well, it is 
 a long story, and it took some hundreds of years to 
 furnish the materials for it. But in eflPect the 
 latter part of the tale was this : — 
 
 Maurice O'Brady, by marriage with one of the 
 Desmonds in the later days of Elizabeth, managed 
 to recover the smallest of the estates which his father 
 had forfeited by his forced complicity in O'NeiFs re- 
 bellion. He was sent abroad when a child, to be 
 made a good Catholic; but in his wanderings, ere 
 he was of age, he had sojourned at the university 
 of Prague, and had distinguished himself after a 
 time by his physical zeal in the tumults which arose 
 between the orthodox and the new lights of the 
 time on the side of the latter, so that his father, 
 who was living in seclusion and ''making his soul" 
 among the friars of the Irish Benedictines at Paris, 
 took much comfort to himself that he had no lands 
 left for such a reprobate Hussite and heretic to 
 enjoy. But a little later, when Maurice, joining 
 the Imperialists, gained a name for himself as a 
 brave soldier, to which in a few years he added the
 
 16 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 reputation of a skilful captain,, the old man rejoiced 
 that his son was fighting like a good Catholic 
 Christian after all ; and bemoaned the evil fortunes 
 of his house and the cowardice of the kernes, which 
 had given Essex such easy victories, and left the 
 O^Bradys of Lough-na-Carra nothing but bitter 
 memories and broken fortunes. When his father 
 died, Maurice^s heritage was a small sum of money 
 and a solemn entreaty that he would return to his 
 native country. 
 
 ^' Do not let the name die out. If we all go, it 
 is what the enemy want. We must be politic, 
 Maurice — be politic, and watch and wait. If the 
 lion sees the hunter he will kill him ; but if the 
 hunter is wary, watches, and waits, the beast is his 
 at last.^^ 
 
 A friend of Sidney, whom Maurice saved 
 in a sudden rout of the Christians by the banks 
 of the Leytha, repaid him by obtaining grace 
 and pardon for the offence of being an im- 
 penitent rebel's son. Nay, the Lord Deputy him- 
 self did not hesitate to express his opinion, that 
 Captain Maurice Brady might render good service 
 to his royal mistress if only he were taken into 
 her gracious favour, as he was a gentleman of 
 conduct and courage, with a fitting sense of the
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 17 
 
 errors of his unliappy father, and in no way to be 
 regarded as a " Papist enemy /^ In fact, Maurice 
 Brady, who at this time made his name a dis- 
 syllable, was even permitted to appear at the court 
 of the Queen ; and, in two years after his return, 
 was fortunate enough to marry a younger daughter 
 of one of the Desmonds, among the most powerful 
 of the old families of the Pale. Two years later a grant 
 — not without much outcry from the Irish Parliament 
 — put him in possession of a share of his family 
 estates. It was understood that Maurice Brady was 
 almost as good as a Protestant, and that he only 
 waited for a fair occasion to declare it to the world. 
 But the occasion never came ; and by his neighbours 
 of Norman and English descent he was regarded as 
 little better than a common Irish traitor. Living 
 among a barbarous people, or at least a race 
 whose civilization he did not understand, and 
 whose language was unknown to him, the travelled 
 soldier became overwhelmed with ennui. There 
 was more than a suspicion that he was cognizant of 
 the Irish rising in the reign of James ; and Maurice, 
 whose wife had died after giving birth to an only 
 son, sailed from Galway to a Spanish port, leaving 
 his heir in the care of his brother-in-law ; and 
 re-entering the Imperialist service, was killed in 
 
 VOL. I. 2
 
 18 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 the decisive charge at the battle of the White 
 Mount. 
 
 Terence^ his son^ was brought up in the tradi- 
 tions of the Desmonds^ and was educated in England. 
 After a boisterous youth^ he married a lady of 
 the house of the Lucys of Warwickshire,, and fell 
 in the Civil War, fighting, with the perversity of 
 his race, for the King. 
 
 Of his two sons and three daughters none ever 
 saw the land of their ancestors except one, Gerald, 
 the second son, who, through the exertions of his 
 English friends, got possession of Lough-na-Carra 
 and Kilmoyle at the close of the reign of Charles II. 
 Gerald subsequently showed his gratitude by join- 
 ing the Koyalists at the summons of Tyrconnel, a 
 few days before the arrival of James in Ireland, 
 and his judgment by the loss of his lands. He was 
 one of the garrison of Limerick, and died in exile in 
 France ; and it was not tiU the reign of Anne that 
 his elder brother, who joined the winning side and 
 the victorious faith, was rewarded by the restora- 
 tion of a small portion of the land of Lough-na- 
 Carra, and the ruins of the old castle. But Miles 
 Brady had married an heiress, and he resolved to 
 build a fine house in the midst of his people, whom 
 he proposed to civilize, having all that faith in
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 19 
 
 Saxonizing the Celts which has done so little 
 good_, and so much evil^ in time past. His efforts 
 were not successful ; his money and his time 
 went in vain. He found a stiff-necked generation, 
 whose ways were not his ways; and after a few 
 weary years of toil, he left his tenants uncon- 
 verted and his house unfinished; returned to 
 England in disgust^ became one of an active 
 knot of Whig pamphleteers and wits, who met in a 
 coffee-house near Lincoln^s Inn Fields ; wrote many 
 forgotten papers; engaged in many broils and 
 squabbles; and died of a wound received in a 
 street quarrel, coming out of Drury Lane. 
 
 It was an unlucky house; what one of them 
 gained the next was sure to lose ; not one of the 
 line for years had been brought up in his own 
 country, or had any feelings or sympathies with 
 his own people. They drew as much money as they 
 could get, and spent it. What else could a gen- 
 tleman do, unless he were a rebel ? And no one iiL 
 those days could tell what loyalty or treason was tiU 
 the definition had been sharply drawn by the sword, 
 or by the decision of the majority (represented by 
 the force) of the people on the other side of the 
 Channel. 
 
 My grandfather, Dr. Terence Brady, succeeded 
 
 2—2
 
 20 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 to all that was left of the ever-diminisliing estates 
 of Lough-na-Carra, on the death of his uncle, 
 and during one of those terrible visitations of 
 typhus which in the old time did the work now 
 performed by emigration, and in its own way 
 checked the increase of population, was summoned 
 from his modest practice as a Dublin physician to 
 deal with a pauper, disaffected population. After 
 his wife fell a victim to the pestilence he only 
 redoubled his exertions, and found a solace for his 
 sorrows in seeking to mitigate the sufferings of 
 others, and in the care of his infant son. 
 
 When the rebels of ''98 laid waste the houses of 
 the gentry they respected Lough-na-Carra ; and the 
 Doctor's loyalty was rather doubted at Dublin 
 Castle when they heard the ^^ Croppies" had not only 
 spared Dr. Brady's house, but had insisted on car- 
 rying him on their shoulders from the 'tillage — 
 where they found him attending on a dying man — 
 and mounted guard on his gate till they moved off 
 to join the main body of the insurgents. There 
 was not wanting evidence, however, that he had 
 urged them, with tears in his eyes, to desist ; and 
 had, unarmed in the midst of their leaders, warned 
 them of their failure and their fate. I can fancy he 
 was eloquent; and I know, indeed, that he was
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 21 
 
 asked to take his place in the Irish Parliament by 
 men who believed his abilities would have secured 
 him a commanding position in political life. But 
 he was fond of his books and of the country, and 
 of doing good, the results of which he could see 
 with his own eyes. The great object of his life was 
 to get Lough-na-Carra into order for his son, who 
 entered the army at the age of sixteen. One sad 
 day the postboy stopped " the Doctor^s gig^^ on the 
 road, and gave him a letter with a great black seal. 
 My grandfather, driving back to the house, and 
 walking into the hall, said calmly to his old house- 
 keeper — 
 
 ^^ He's gone ! My poor son ! The widow and 
 her infant are coming here to their only home. 
 They are on their way now. My darling Jack ! 
 To die in an Indian jungle ! It is hard, indeed, 
 to bear. But God's will be done V 
 
 I have heard that from the day the news came 
 he was a changed man; but I cannot fancy he 
 could have ever been more gentle, more kind, or 
 more cheerful than he was as I remember him.
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 AT HOME. 
 
 It was some montlis after this that a postchaise 
 drove up to the door of the '^ Desmond Arms/^ in the 
 town of Kilmoyle^ an event which excited no small 
 sensation in that very unflourishing place. Not that 
 the postchaise was a novelty — or the horses or the 
 postboy — for every one knew Mrs.Dempsey^s '^ quality 
 carriage'''' — the Roman-nosed, high-boned steeds, 
 had a world-wide reputation for their prowess in 
 kicking, biting, and jumping, and were popularly be- 
 lieved to have been discharged from the mail-coach 
 service for an inveterate habit of galloping, and 
 ^^ ould Pat,^^ the postboy, was better known than 
 any milestone on the turnpike road — but that the 
 occupants of the vehicle seemed worthy of much 
 popular wonder. The first and most attractive of 
 these was a woman — at least the current opinion 
 was in favour of the belief that the person in ques-
 
 ADVENTURES OF DOCTOR BRADY. 23 
 
 tion was a female — with a dark-brown face and 
 white teeth,, and a small nose on which there was a 
 streak of yellow paint. Through the straight belt 
 of black curls which escaped from the folds of a 
 monster turban of white and red^ were visible two 
 massive ear-rings ; a thin white and scarlet jacket, 
 looped at the neck, permitted a large extent of dark 
 skin to be seen in the region of the breast, under 
 which the jacket was gathered in by a thick shawl 
 folded round the waist, and thence emerging 
 came down to the knees. As the owner of the 
 curls and ear-rings stepped out of the carriage, the 
 multitude, which consisted by this time of at least 
 two-thirds of Kilmoyle,who were oldoryoung enough 
 to run, and who were within half a mile of the 
 ^^ Desmond Arms,"" beheld with amazement and 
 delight, below the short white drawers completing 
 the stranger's costume, a pair of small brown 
 bandy legs and large brown flat feet, on the little 
 toes of which were two silver rings ; and their ex- 
 citement was at its height when a roll of white linen 
 which was borne tenderly in the arms of the strange 
 being emitted a shrill cry, as like that of a Chris- 
 tian baby as any the many matrons there familiar 
 with the sound had ever heard. That cry was 
 uttered by me, Terence Brady, awakened out of a
 
 24 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 very comfortable sleep, no doubt by Mobun's 
 descent to tbe earth from tbe postcbaise. The 
 emotions aroused among the crowd by the utterance 
 might have led to an instant demand for my ex- 
 posure to the air, but that a huge ape, with a silver 
 collar and chain round his neck, which had been 
 asleep in a corner of the carriage, made his appear- 
 ance on the steps, and grinning round him, and 
 puckering up his face, surrounded by a fringe, and 
 beard of long grey hair and sunken yellow eyes, 
 gave a sharp whimper, and with a bound rushed 
 after the dark stranger, jumped upon his back — for 
 it was a he — and, with one arm round his neck, 
 chattered defiance at the people of Kilmoyle. 
 
 The diversion was most efiiective, and as soon as 
 the novel visitors were lost sight of in the passage 
 of the inn, the popular mind was agitated by 
 tremendous doubts on the question of identity, for the 
 postboy assured the crowd that the party consisted 
 of " poor Captain Brady^s widdy, nurse, and child ;" 
 and that they had been given to his charge by the 
 guard of the mail-coach from Cork, with a strict 
 injunction to take particular care of the nurse, who 
 was the hairy lady with the silver collar. 
 
 " I saw the child^s face, anyway, and it^s as 
 white as my own,^^ — an illustration, by-the-bye, of
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 25 
 
 no special note in regard to whiteness — " and I 
 don^t know how the poor Ingin widdy can be the 
 mother^ for she^s as black as soot. But theyVe 
 quare ways in foreign parts /^ 
 
 My grandfather, who had been long expect- 
 ing our coming, as always happens in such cases, 
 was taken by surprise at the message that the 
 '^ captain^s little son and two strange Indian gen- 
 tlemen had arrived/^ He smiled sadly as he was 
 pulling on his boots, and exclaimed — 
 
 " Do you take poor Mrs. Brady for a gen- 
 tleman, Pat ?'' 
 
 " Begorrah, yer honour, all I can say is IVe seen 
 thim all; and if there^s a lady among them she^s 
 as much hair on her face as Serjint Quin, at the 
 dippo in Athlone.^' 
 
 When Doctor Brady, scarcely noticing the re- 
 mark, entered the room in the ^' Desmond Arms,"*' 
 he stood as much aghast as any of the people of 
 the village. 
 
 Mohun, squatted on the floor with a large basin 
 between his knees, was carefully washing me from 
 head to foot ; and having taken off his turban, the 
 better to get at his work, his curly black hair 
 had fallen down on his face and shoiildcrs, nearly 
 obscuring his features, but not hidiug the large rings
 
 26 THE ADVENTUEES OF 
 
 in his ears. His loose white dress had all the 
 appearance of a woman's robe, and his diminutive 
 stature confirmed the idea which took possession of 
 my grandfather's mind for a moment, when he 
 observed a still smaller individual seated on a chair 
 before the looking-glass, with a huge head-dress, 
 a pair of horn spectacles, and a cloud of drapery 
 on its person. 
 
 ^' Good God \" thought he, as he told his friends 
 when he narrated the story, ^^did my poor son 
 marry a native woman after all? And is this 
 the creature who is my daughter-in-law \" 
 
 In fact, Jacko, who was more sedate than 
 most of his race and genus, had put on Mohun^s 
 turban, encased himself in my toggery without 
 much discrimination of the proper uses of each 
 little garment, put on the glasses which Mrs. 
 Dempsey had left lying on her book when she was 
 disturbed by our advent, and was examining the 
 general effect in the mirror; so that the horrid 
 notion flashed on the Doctor that Mohun was my 
 mother, and that the ape, whose physiognomy 
 he could not well catch as it sat with its back 
 turned on him in the chair, was a privileged 
 attendant. 
 
 " Where is the lady ? — where is my daughter-
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 27 
 
 in-law ?^^ lie inquired as he glanced round the 
 room. 
 
 Mohun_, who was drying me, and putting on a 
 fresh set of clothes, which he took from one of the 
 portmanteaus that had come over in the post' 
 chaise, had by this time gathered up his locks, and 
 got his head into his turban. He looked cautiously 
 around him, and sidling towards my grandfather, 
 held me out in both hands. 
 
 " Dis de leetl sahib — de only one I have, sir — 
 me and Derry sahib and de black rascal dare — all 
 that come, sahib, surela.^'' 
 
 " Where is your mistress? — Where is Mrs. Brady? 
 What do you mean by all that confounded gib- 
 berish?" 
 
 Mohun deposited me gently on a chair. Then 
 unwinding his sash very slowly, he opened its folds, 
 took out a piece of oilskin, cut the strings around 
 it, and showed my grandfather a letter. 
 
 " De sahib is Brady sahiVs father ?" he inquired. 
 " Dis chitty for him.'' 
 
 ^' Of course I am — of course it is,'' cried the 
 Doctor, as he seized the letter, and broke the black 
 seal. He had only read a few lines ere he uttered 
 an exclamation of surprise, and crumpled the letter 
 in his hands.
 
 28 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 " My God ! — is it possible ? Whsit a heartless 
 wretch/^ he moaned, " what a fate \" 
 
 My grandfather bnried his face in his hands, 
 and then, after a pause, walked over to the easy 
 chair in which I had been deposited, and taking 
 me tenderly in his arms, whilst the tears rolled 
 down his face, kissed me gently, and repeated to 
 himself — 
 
 ^^ Take charge of my dear child ! Yes ! indeed I 
 will, my poor little waif, thus drifted to this barren 
 shore. As long as I live my son''s son shall be my 
 only thought. It is incredible ! It is quite beyond 
 belief! And yet he must have loved her — '^ 
 
 Jacko had got hold of the letter, and was open- 
 ing it with much precision and curiosity, fold after 
 fold, when my grandfather suddenly made a rush 
 at him, shouting out — 
 
 " Drop it, you thief! — drop it !^' 
 
 Which Jacko certainly would not have done if 
 Mohun, who with folded arms had stood motion- 
 less hitherto, scanning the Doctor^s face narrowly, 
 had not joined in the chase, and compelled the 
 surrender of the document. 
 
 " You will take your young master over in 
 the carriage. The luggage will go in the cart 
 under the charge of one of the servants, and your
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 29 
 
 hairy friend there. I will be over before you, and 
 have a nurse to look after the child.''' 
 
 He took the letter into the back parlour of the 
 inn. It was half an hour ere he emerged with an 
 air which was very different from his usual genial, 
 contented aspect. 
 
 "The Doctor's fretting agen about the captain, and 
 seeing the grandson has brought him back to it/' 
 remarked Mrs. Dempsey. " Or maybe it's the suddin 
 news coming on him of the poor crachure that's 
 drownded. It's hardships he has to bear wid, the poor 
 man. And to be left wid a child a year old, and that 
 black hagger of a Turk, and the other thing on 
 him, is enough to dhrive him mad. The Lord pity 
 and look down on him this day !" 
 
 And so the story of my orphanage was known 
 ere the details of the escape of the Ross-shire from 
 total wreck, and the account of the calamity, 
 by which twenty-three persons were lost in the 
 swoop of that deadly wave on her decks, got into 
 the newspapers. 
 
 All I knew of my father was, that he was a 
 taU man, with dark eyes, which followed me from 
 the wall as I went round the room — light hair, cut 
 short ; small whiskers, coming to an abrupt ending 
 on a line with the point of his nose ; that he wore a
 
 30 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 scarlet coat with large silver epaulettes,, tight lemon- 
 coloured pantaloons with embroidered frogs^ and 
 highly shining boots. There he stood^ leaning one 
 hand on the hilt of a most formidable curved sabre. 
 In the other he held a pair of gloves and a plumed 
 shako, his back turned on a very fierce engage- 
 ment on the side of a very blue mountain 
 besmirched with the smoke of a burning city, 
 in which elephants, camels, black men in white 
 dresses, and white men in red dresses, were fighting, 
 whilst a highly philosophical native held a champing 
 charger, in case the fortunes of the combat 
 were decided against Captain Brady^s detachment, 
 which, however, succeeded in routing the famous 
 Pindarry, Poll Sing, and storming his strong- 
 hold. 
 
 There were, too, some memorials of him beside 
 those of the Calcutta artist — tiger-skins with bullet- 
 marks into which I pushed my fingers, stuffed birds, 
 Indian curiosities, and models of forts, and, most 
 treasured of all, framed and glazed over the fire- 
 place, the despatches in which his name was 
 honourably recorded, and the " order of the day'^ 
 in which he was promoted for good service and 
 bravery in the field. 
 
 My grandfather rather diminished my great
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 31 
 
 interest in this portrait by saying as I was gazing 
 upon it one day — 
 
 " Yon must not tliink_, Terry^ that is very like 
 your father. He had not that stern look — at least 
 as I used to see him ; — he was not so cross. And 
 he had beautiful hands and feet; his eyes were 
 brighter and softer. But still there^s some look of 
 him ; you could just know him by the picture,, 
 that's all.'' 
 
 "And is that very like poor mamma, grand- 
 papa?" inquired I, with an assurance that he 
 would say ^* yes." My faith in the picture of my 
 father had gone at once. 
 
 " Well^ my dear child^ I can't tell you. You 
 know I never saw her ; your father married in 
 India. But Major Turnbull at the Castle who 
 came over to talk to me of my poor son, whose 
 great friend he was, said it was a very good 
 likeness indeed, but that no artist in India — 
 he doubted, indeed, if any in the world — could 
 do fall justice to the wonderful beauty which 
 made all his comrades envy poor Jack, and 
 think him the luckiest fellow in the world at 
 first " 
 
 " Why at first, grandpapa ? Didn't they always 
 think him so ?"
 
 32 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 My grandfather stammered a little as lie said, 
 looking me full in the face — 
 
 " Your mother did not enjoy — very good health. 
 It is expensive to be sick in India ; that's all." 
 
 As I looked — I often did — on the lovely face 
 which the painter — a better hand probably than the 
 artist who had essayed to depict my father — had suc- 
 ceeded in endowing with an expression of the most 
 charming sweetness and simplicity, I was happy to 
 think that there at least I might rely on having a 
 faithful resemblance of one of those I could never 
 see on this earth. 
 
 My mother was half-reclining on a couch, with one 
 hand hidden in a wild labyrinth of golden-coloured 
 hair, whilst another caressed a spotted creature 
 which my nurse told me was a young tiger, but 
 which I knew afterwards to be an ocelot, one of 
 the most graceful and sleek of the beautiful 
 cruel cat tribe. The dark hues of the creature's 
 skin, as, with half-closed eyes, it made believe to 
 bite her tiny fingers, set off- the snowy whiteness 
 of her arm. The white robe in which she was 
 enveloped was confined by a gold girdle at the 
 waist, and fell in easy folds over a form of exquisite 
 symmetry, leaving a glimpse of one fairy foot in a 
 gorgeous slipper, peeping beneath; the other
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 33 
 
 a marvel of smallness^ hung slipperless over the 
 edge of the sofa^ as if the tiny covering had been 
 kicked off in a pet, or carelessly let drop on the 
 carpet. The eyes, full of dreamy abstraction, 
 seemed looking into space — a blue which had a 
 tinge of violet, shaded by a long fringe of lashes 
 darker than her hair, and matching the lines 
 of her brown eyebrows; an upper lip curved, 
 slightly parted, and displaying the white teeth, 
 was set over its firmer, straighter fellow, as though 
 she were sighing gently, or uttering some word of 
 endearment to her spotted plaything; while from 
 the tanglement of her hair one taper finger had 
 stolen and rested at the angle of her mouth. 
 
 The whole character of the attitude was one 
 of indolent repose. By her side, on the ground, 
 lay an opened book, which had fallen on some 
 flowers, the leaves of which littered the rich 
 carpet ; and the rays of the setting sun creeping 
 in through an opening in a lattice, lighted up the 
 countenance and figure of one who seemed to me 
 beautiful and bright as an angel reclining in some 
 fairy bower, where the richest stuffs and gold and 
 silver sheen formed a background of indescribable 
 magnificence. I had gazed, when I was young, 
 on those eyes till I fancied they kindled with a 
 
 VOL. I. 3
 
 34 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 responsive glance ; had babbled away to " dear 
 mamma^^ till I tbought some fond word came 
 from her half-opened lips. Often had I mounted 
 on a chair, and with a thousand little wiles sought 
 to attract the notice of those great blue orbs, or 
 embraced the cold flat canvas ; but I bore to the 
 young tiger a hate that once led me to begin an 
 attack on him with a stick, which was only pre- 
 vented at the outset by the vigilant Honour. 
 
 In fact, there was an altar in that frame on 
 which I made my sacrifices of love and affection 
 to a mother's memory. If I dreamt of angels- 
 they appeared to me like my mother, and in my 
 infant prayers I was wont to sigh that I might 
 soon be taken to her and lie in her bosom. 
 
 Whenever any childish grief came upon me, I 
 stole into the gloomy old room, which was seldom 
 used then, for the days of grand dinner parties were 
 over, and made her image my confidant — addressed 
 to her my tearful sorrows, and pressed my lips to 
 the placid brow till it warmed to their touch. The 
 portrait was my ideal of all that was perfection and 
 goodness — of all that was pure and beautiful ; and 
 often in the dark I lay awake, gazing into the black 
 void, till the fiiery specks which danced about before 
 my eyes faded away, and there the gracious form
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 35 
 
 in its robe of white floated in the air — the eyes and 
 mouth smiled on me; and the faithful Honour, 
 anxious to know why my breath came so fast, 
 shook me from my nightmare, and declared that 
 " the picture was bewitchin'' Masther Terry, and 
 that if I didn^t lave off, out of the house it must 
 
 The sad story I had gathered up so eagerly out 
 of many a fragmentary hint, ere I had by incessant 
 questioning obtained all the particulars from the 
 old nurse, was short and pitiful. After my father^s 
 death, which took place very suddenly, my mother, 
 who had no rich relatives, set sail for Europe in 
 the Ross-shire East Indiaman. The vessel struck 
 on a dangerous reef off the coast of Ceylon. 
 It was in the night time ; the ship was crowded 
 with passengers ; they rushed up when the crash 
 roused them in their berths ; and as they gathered 
 on the quarter-deck a tremendous sea, sweeping 
 from stem to stern, bore many of them into the 
 boiling surf. Among them were my poor mother 
 and her maid. 
 
 " Oh ! why,^^ I cried, '^ why was I not taken 
 too ? It was cruel to leave me ! I, so little 
 worth ! And to carry her off to that dreadful 
 death, where her cries were drowned in the howling 
 
 3—2
 
 56 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 of the wind, and choked by the wicked waters, as 
 her fair limbs were dashed against the harsh sharp 
 rocks/^ She and her companions in that sudden 
 misery were never seen again. The stout ship was 
 driven by another sea with her bow on a ridge of 
 coral, and lay for many hours dismasted and help- 
 less ; but the gale, which was failing when the 
 vessel struck, abated ; the sea fell, a sail was 
 fastened under the leak, and the Ross-shire was 
 carried in a sinking state into Galle harbour. 
 Transferred into another ship, Mohun and Jacko 
 and I were^ after many adventures, in which the 
 two former played distinguished parts, safely de- 
 posited, as we have seen, in the ^^ Desmond Arms/' 
 As I grew up I became aware that there was a 
 tenderness and compassion in the tone of all 
 around me, from my dear grandfather down to the 
 turf-boy and peasant girls, who overcame their horror 
 and fear of Mohun and his ape sufficiently to 
 approach my little open car when I was driven out 
 in state by Pat with my two dark attendants; 
 which for a long time I thought was natural. I 
 was spoilt by constant petting and sympathy, which 
 I could not understand. My only great trouble 
 was caused by Mohun, who led a very uncom- 
 fortable life in his new home, and who found new
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 37 
 
 discomforts every year. He was a Christian^ he 
 said, and as good a Roman Catholic as any in 
 the parish. But Father Drennan, the parish 
 priest, declared he was next to a heretic. Father 
 Driver, the coadjutor, protested he was worse than 
 a heathen. Mohun's religious notions were founded, 
 in fact, on the compromise between Hindooism and 
 Christianity, which is taken sometimes by mis- 
 sionaries to represent native conversion. He 
 obstinately refused to go to confession ; and after 
 a few Sundays he cut off a great treat to the whole 
 population by ceasing to attend mass, because he 
 said the "white budmashes" stared at him, and 
 pulled off his turban; and the validity of his 
 excuses was admitted the more readily by the 
 Doctor in consequence of the devilish pranks which 
 Jacko played in the house during his absence. 
 
 " He would not ate his m*ails like a Christian/' 
 said the servants. Mohun sat apart with his head un- 
 covered, crouched on the floor over his heap of rice, 
 cooked with his own hands, closely watched by his 
 bunder, to whom he gave handfuls now and then. 
 He wore beads, but he did not count them in a 
 proper manner. Biddy Hennessy, the dairymaid, 
 had been obliged on one occasion to give him what 
 she called '* a regular lambasthin,'' in consequence
 
 38 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 of his " oflfering" to kiss her^ and in that respect,, and 
 in a partiality for whisky, lay the only traits, all the 
 people declared, in which he resembled a Chi'istian 
 at all. At intervals letters came for him, and 
 then he would sit for hours writing strange charac- 
 ters on thin paper, and he posted with his own 
 hands the heavy envelopes, on which the only word 
 the postmistress could make out was " Bombay," 
 with postage of fabulous amount. He spent little 
 money except on rolls of white and coloured calico, 
 which he made into clothing with his own hands ; 
 and when he received his wages, he changed his 
 small roll of notes at the village store for silver. 
 Where he stowed it none could guess, but 
 he lent out money now and then on heavy 
 usury to the people round the place; and the 
 popular dislike to him was aggravated by the sharp- 
 ness of his bargains, and the exactness of his 
 accounts. 
 
 One day the postman brought a letter for Mohun, 
 and my grandfather was trying to decipher the direc- 
 tion, on which some words in English had fixed his 
 attention, when the Madrassee, with his usual noiseless 
 step, approached, and stood for a moment with 
 bowed head and arms on his breast, till the Doctor 
 handed it to him with the remark —
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 3:9 
 
 ^^ This letter has just come with mine. I was 
 thinking I had seen that handwriting before. Can 
 I be right ? Do you get letters from her, Mohun T' 
 
 Mohun took the letter, and thrust it into his 
 breast. 
 
 " Dat chitty come from my wife, sahib,^^ he 
 replied. "No oder mem sahib write Mohun 
 chittys.'' 
 
 " I don't believe you, Mohun," replied my grand- 
 father. " I long have had my suspicions. Let me 
 take that letter to Major Turnbull at the Castle, 
 and see if you speak the truth/'' 
 
 Mohun's voice trembled a little as he said — 
 " Mohun beg Doctor sahib not to ask him. Him 
 wife not like her chitty to be read by Major Trum- 
 ble, or anyone but Mohun.''' 
 
 " Then,'" retorted my grandfather, angrily — ^^ I 
 tell you, the sooner you go back to your real mis- 
 tress the better. I will have no one here whom 
 I don't trust. No spies ; do you hear ? Master 
 Terence can do very well without you, so you had 
 better prepare to go back to your own country. 
 The sooner the better." 
 
 Mohun bowed meekly — "I go when Doctor 
 please. Jacko not very well in him health. Mohun 
 was thinking some tim.e since he would ask Doctor
 
 40 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 to have him both go back. He will be very sorry 
 to leave him Master Derry^ but he soon forget poor 
 Mohun/' 
 
 And so I did. The attachments of youth 
 do not bear great strain. There was a sort 
 of barrier between Mohun and myself, which 
 thickened as time wore on. He avoided direct 
 anwers to my endless questions about my mother ; 
 he knew nothing more than all the world knew; 
 he had not lived long with the Captain before his 
 death and the voyage to Europe. Nevertheless I 
 persecuted Mohun^ asking him for ever about the 
 events and always hearing the same story of the 
 storm, the striking ship, the rush to the deck, the 
 sweep of the great wave, the awful cry of agony as 
 through the black night struggling figures in white 
 were borne away into the raging surf. "Master 
 Derry — poor mamma ! de ayah, Bengalee woman — 
 O, many ayahs, many sahibs, and de mate and 
 sahiblogue and littel child all gone away V^ and 
 at last Mohun got cross. I had never seen 
 the sea ; I looked through all the books I could 
 find for pictures of ships, and presented Mohun 
 with engravings of RaphaeFs cartoon of " The 
 Miraculous Draught of Fishes ^^ — of a Uoman galley 
 — of " Our Saviour walking on the Water" — of
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 41 
 
 Noah^s ark : all in vain. " Not like dat big ship — 
 not same as dat^ Master Berry ." 
 
 One day Major Turnbnll happened to ride over 
 from the Castle to see my grandfather on 
 business,, and as he dismounted I ran out to see 
 his famous Arab charger. Whilst the Major stood 
 for a moment in the hall, Mohun came in search of 
 me J and the Major spoke to him in a strange 
 language. I, who was accustomed to every expres- 
 sion of that mysterious dark face, saw that Mohun 
 was agitated. He trembled, indeed, as he replied ; 
 and when I saw the Major raising his riding- whip 
 in a menacing way, I ran to him, and said im- 
 ploringly — ^'^Oh, dear Major Turnbull, don^t be 
 angry with poor Mohun ; I love him very much,, 
 and so does grandpapa.^^ 
 
 The Doctor just at the moment came out to wel- 
 come his friend, and as they walked away together 
 to the study, I heard the Major say — 
 
 " Why, Brady, you told me the black fellow 
 who came over with the little boy was a 
 Madrassee.^^ 
 
 " And so he is, I believe ; at least he says so, if 
 I understood him right .^^ 
 
 " Not a bit of it ; no more a Madrassee than I 
 am. Some up-country fellow, and inclined to be
 
 42 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 deuced cheeky. A scamp from Delhi or Agra, I 
 should think. And what the deuce '' 
 
 I heard no more_, as the door shut j but when I 
 said to Mohun, ^^ The Major says you^re not a 
 Madrassee, but a scamp from the up-country, Delhi 
 or Agra/^ Mohun looked troubled, and mumbled 
 out, ^^ Master Derry, dear ! Major sahib tink all 
 we tell lies. He know better dan me where I come 
 from. Ho! ho ^ 
 
 Somehow or other this little thing made an im- 
 pression on me, and I felt that Mohun had not 
 spoken the truth. The stories told by the servants 
 created almost as gi'eat a fear of the Hindoostanee 
 as that which had long ago been inspired in me by 
 Jacko. That remarkable creature had been indis- 
 posed for some time, and had literally taken to his 
 bed. Mohun placed his room at his disposal, and 
 Jacko, who was of a chilly nature, lay for hours under 
 the blankets, with his face just visible, and one long 
 hairy arm out on the floor, languidly raising the 
 dainties Mohun left within his reach to his pursed- 
 up lips. The servants declared that in the dead of 
 night Mohun and the ape held long conversations 
 together in a ^^kind of Frinch;" and a daring 
 pantry-boy protested that he had seen the Indian 
 and Jacko seated at table one night, drinking hot
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 43 
 
 -whisky-puncli and smoking tobacco, "just like two 
 Christians/' And so this poor fellow, who had 
 nursed and tended me — on whose neck I had 
 hung for years — whose dark cheeks I had so often 
 kissed — and who had lulled me to sleep with songs, 
 the strains of which still float through my memory 
 — who had rejoiced in my joy, and soothed my 
 infant sorrows — left Lough-na-Carra for ever, as 
 little regretted as if he were a passing stranger. 
 
 When Mohun went — it was a memorable day — I 
 felt rather glad than sorry, and my conscience re- 
 proached me for my indifference. The little man 
 had collected all his property — two large bags, and 
 his cooking pots and pans as bright as silver — in the 
 back hall ; Jacko, carefully dressed in a scarlet frock, 
 with a large piece of flannel wrapped round his chest, 
 sat between them, munching an apple, and coughing 
 ^' just like a Christian,^' whilst his eyes followed all 
 his master's motions. The chaise was drawn up 
 outside to take the party to the mail-coach, and 
 the servants stood in a group to sec them off. 
 Mohun came down from my grandfather, who was 
 confined to his room by a cold, and the girdle fastened 
 round his waist seemed heavier than ever. He 
 bade all the servants " Good-bye'' in his own fashion, 
 and to the astonishment of each, he offered as a
 
 44 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 parting gift a small gold piece^ which produced 
 rather a favourable impression. 
 
 " Faith, Misther Mohun's not so bad, afther all/' 
 exclaimed the cook, Biddy Flynn. 
 
 " Maybe he^d take ye off to Ingy wid him av 
 ye axed him. He^s his own cook, and ye'd have 
 light work of it, Biddy,'' chuckled Honour. 
 
 '^ Bedad, maybe it's tin black wives I'd find at home 
 wid him. Ax him yourself. Miss Honner." 
 
 Mohun was very grave. ^^ Master Derry, dear 
 Master Derry, some day you know who Mohun 
 keep him rupee for,"^ said he ; " Mohun got little,- 
 very little rupee ; but he not keep dem for him- 
 self." The fellow drew me towards him, and as^ 
 he put his arms round my neck and kissed me, a 
 tear trickled over his cheek. " Honna, you take 
 care of Master Derry. You not let him bum 
 himself, Honna; nor fall into the river, Honna; 
 nor get drown like him mudder. Master Derry 
 dear, some day you ask your granfader tell you 
 how Mohun's missis was drown. He will tell you 
 some day." Again he kissed me, mumbled some 
 words in a tongue I did not understand, and sum- 
 moning Jacko, who blinked, wheezed, and coughed 
 at the exertion of getting into the post-chaise, drove 
 off with his eyes fixed on me, amid a chorus, of
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 45 
 
 '^ Good-bye, Misther Mohun ! — good-bye, Jacko ! — 
 God send yez safe to Injy !" and a parting injunc- 
 tion from the cook to the postboy to " Mind them 
 two black gintlemen, and carry them safe to the 
 ■coach/' 
 
 This is a long episode ; but I fear there is no 
 regularity, no order, in this rambling, stumbKng 
 history, which rarely goes off at score, but which 
 halts and kicks, or even insists on backing in a most 
 wilful, unbroken, and provoking manner. I am 
 coming to a great epoch in this part of my life. 
 Up to this time I was nearly as happy as boyhood 
 can be. There were no wants I could not gratify 
 — there was no craving for anything I could not 
 obtain. I did not feel the need of playmates, for 
 all in my little world were ready to join in any 
 sport, and I was in the proud position of being 
 the director of my own pastimes. Now and then 
 indeed came moments of reverie, when I thought 
 of her I had lost — the sunshine vanished, and dark- 
 ness came upon me. But the sadness did not 
 endure long — the clouds soon passed away. My 
 grandfather's care stood in lieu of the father's so- 
 licitude and the mother's affection which I had 
 never known. Orphan I was indeed, but I was 
 proud to feel I was the son of a gallant soldier ; and
 
 46 ADVENTURES OF DOCTOR BRADY. 
 
 if my tears flowed as I sat with clasped hands before 
 my mother^s image, there was in my sorrow more 
 of pity than of pain. So might it have been till 
 time had done its work. But it was not to be. 
 Far better is it ever to let the yonng know all that 
 concerns them, than torture them with mysteries 
 and deceit at the very time when curiosity is most 
 lively and the character most susceptible of per- 
 manent impressions.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 DOUBTS AND FEARS. 
 
 It was one evening long after Mohun^s departure 
 from Lough-na-Carra. 
 
 ^' It is a very curious things my dear doctor, 
 tliat you never could get an exact account of the 
 loss of your daughter-in-law among those people 
 on board the ship.^^ The speaker was Sir Richard 
 Desmond^ and I heard the words just as^ in all 
 the glories of my finest clothes, I was introduced, 
 or rather butted, into the dining-room by Honour, 
 with my hair "done up,^^ and a face brought to 
 the highest degree of polish. There was a little 
 dinner-party after a hunt. Sir Richard, and Major 
 Turnbull from the Castle, the Rector of Lough-na- 
 Carra — who never went to hunt, but often " came 
 by^' as the hounds were throwing off', so that the 
 Rev. Frank Stack might be seen very much as if 
 he were engaged in the chase, although he was.
 
 48 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 really, lie said, only giving his famous mare, Daisy, 
 a canter over the turf in the direction of the run — 
 a couple of ofl&cers from Athlone, Mr. Rackstraw, 
 Sir Eichard^s agent, and two of the neighbour- 
 ing squires, completed the company; they were 
 all evidently listening with great interest to some- 
 thing which concerned me, for on my appearing 
 at the door, my grandfather said — 
 
 " Hush ! here he is. Now, Terry, make your 
 hest bow, and come sit between me and Sir 
 Richard.'' 
 
 " He's getting very like his father," quoth 
 Major TurnbuU ; '* but he'll hardly be better 
 looking, for poor Jack was a deuced good-looking 
 fellow. What are you going to be, Terry?" 
 
 "I should like to be a soldier, sir," replied I, 
 through an interval of my glass of sherry and sweet 
 biscuit. 
 
 " There it is, you see," said Sir Richard. ^^ The 
 scarlet fever will skip a generation, but it will 
 come out in the Bradys." 
 
 " Yes," sighed my grandfather. " It has been 
 a fatal disease among us. I hope to be able to 
 cure it in this instance. The poor boy will have 
 neither money nor interest, and without either or 
 both soldiering is a bad trade."
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 49* 
 
 " You may say tliat_, sir/' exclaimed one of tlie 
 officers. ^^ Here am I, after all my service, sticking 
 fast among the subs, whilst one fellow after another 
 purchases over me; and as I have no friends to 
 help me, I am likely to remain as I am for years 
 to come, unless there's an epidemic breaks out 
 among the field officers and captains/' 
 
 " But the army's not as bad as the church," 
 chimed in the Rector. " Here am I for the last 
 twenty years rector of this parish of Lough-na- 
 Carra, and I don't see a chance of promotion." 
 
 " Yes, my dear sir/' cried Sir Richard ; " but 
 then Lieutenant Dashwood joined a service in 
 which he looked for promotion in this world, whilst 
 you will no doubt receive spiritual preferment in 
 another." 
 
 ''And as it is. Stack," added Mr. Rackstraw, 
 "eight hundred a year, a good house, and the 
 glebe lands of Kilmoyle, put you on the level with 
 lucky general officers at least. You don't often 
 meet a fellow in the king's service who is a general 
 in the space of twenty-eight years." 
 
 "All this has nothing to do with my young 
 friend, Terry/' said the Major ; " you will set him 
 wondering whether he can put any trust in what 
 he hears at church, if you let him think money 
 
 VOL. I. 4
 
 50 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 is the only object a man should look to in 
 life/^ 
 
 '^ I am sure I don^t teach him that lesson/^ re- 
 marked my grandfather ; '' and if I did, he would 
 soon perceive my practice was different from my 
 precept. He has already accused me of not giving 
 him a chance of being a good boy, because I have 
 never given him a flogging, for he knows the 
 Bible says ^ Spare the rod and spoil the child/ '* 
 
 " And of course you told him,'' said the Rector, 
 *^ that it meant, if the boy who deserved the rod 
 did not get it, he was likely to be spoiled ; and 
 Terry does not deserve it.'' 
 
 I confess I had my own opinion on that subject, 
 being aware of divers circumstances for which a 
 little chastisement might have been duly adminis- 
 tered; but I kept it to myself. The conversa- 
 tion got on to subjects in which I had no interest, 
 and which I did not understand, about church and 
 state and the army, whilst I was burning to tell 
 them all the reasons why I wanted to be a soldier ; 
 I wished to have a scarlet coat and gold lace, 
 and ride a splendid horse, like Colonel Brady, 
 of the King of Spain's service, whose picture 
 was in the hall, or wear a silver cuirass and 
 helmet, like Field-Marshal Graf von Brade, who
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 51 
 
 was depicted over the mantelpiece, seated on a 
 champing steed, truncheon in hand, directing the 
 charge of his squadrons against a confused mass 
 of horsemen in turbans. That money had any- 
 thing to do with all this bravery I never imagined, 
 and I could now only conjecture that the tailors 
 charged a great deal for such fine dresses. When 
 I retired to my little room, under charge of 
 Honour, I sought for information; but my good 
 nurse could not tell me much. "My brither is 
 in the army sojerin, and he's a corplar in the 
 Buffs, and all I know is, though he ses he should 
 be ped more nor a shillin a day, he hasn^t got 
 above twopence or a thruppenny bit to bles« his- 
 self wid.^' 
 
 " Honny, why doesn't grandfather get what Sir 
 Richard calls an exact account of the loss of poor 
 mamma? Grandfather's daughter-in-law was my 
 mamma, wasn't she ?" 
 
 " Indeed an she was. Sorra one of me knows, 
 Masther Terry alanna, why they don't know ! 
 Shure, how could the docthor get an exact recount 
 from the poor lady, and she at the bottom of the 
 say ? People ses Sir Richard has got more money 
 nor brains, though he's making the one fly before the 
 other. And now say yer prayers — and I wish it 
 
 4 — 2, 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OP FJFfwni*
 
 52 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 was a pather an' ave, an' prayers that could be of use 
 to you, darlint, yez larned to say — and go to bed." 
 
 But every time I looked at the portrait, the thought 
 of Sir Richard's question and the embarrassed air 
 of my grandfather came into my mind. There 
 was something I could not make out in the story 
 I had heard ; and it was evident others were also 
 not quite satisfied. 
 
 Mohun's parting advice came to my mind. A 
 day or two afterwards my grandfather was in the 
 parlour, and I on a stool at his feet was learning my 
 lessons for " Mister Nolan, the schoolmaster," who 
 came regularly to teach me, " unless he could not 
 cross the ford," when the Carra was flooded ! (oh, 
 how I delighted in a rainy day !) — though it was hinted 
 that Mister Nolan's floods were sometimes caused 
 by a drought, which could only be slaked in whisky. 
 The old man was watching me, and I was roused 
 from my reverie by his voice. 
 
 " What are you thinking of, Terry ? You look 
 very dull to-day. I am afraid you are not attend- 
 ing very much to your grammar. If you don't feel 
 well tell me, and we will have a holiday." 
 
 " I was just thinking of poor mamma. Mohun 
 told me to ask you, and that you would tell me 
 some day how she was lost."
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 53 
 
 " Have you not heard^ Terry, over and over 
 again, your mother was drowned ?" 
 
 '^ I have, grandpapa/^ 
 
 " Then why do you ask me ?" 
 
 " Because I want to know more, and Mohun said 
 you could tell me/^ 
 
 " Terry, you have heard from Mohun all about 
 the ship, and there is no more for you to know — at 
 least not now, my child /^ 
 
 '^ Oh, then, there is something I shall know by 
 and by, is there not, dear grandpapa ? Why not 
 tell me now ? I love poor mamma so — some nights 
 I lie awake thinking of her. I love her picture so, 
 and I am sorry God let her be drowned. Oh, 
 grandpapa, do tell me all now.^^ 
 
 " My dear child,^^ said my grandfather, with a 
 look which I had seldom seen on his face. " My 
 dear child, you must rest content with what you 
 know already, and you must not ask me these 
 questions again. When you are older you shall 
 hear all I know; and then — then,"" he added, 
 with a sigh, '' my darling Terry, it will not cure your 
 sorrow for your unfortunate mother. Ask me no 
 more. Be content to know she is lost to you and 
 us all.^' 
 
 " Grandfather, I have been reading of divers in
 
 54 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 the sea. Do yon tHnk^ if I learned to dive^ some 
 day^ when you tell me all, I could go out and find 
 poor mammals body ?" 
 
 "Alas, Terry, the ocean which separates her 
 from you is too deep for any diver. Think no more 
 of this. You pain your grandfather. Be patient, 
 and when you know the truth, you will see I was 
 right not to tell it to you now.^^ 
 
 " Was her death so very dreadful ?'' 
 
 '' Can any death be more painful or dreadful 
 than hers of which you have heard so often ? I 
 wish that you had not been fascinated by that pic- 
 ture — that you had not seen it yet. There are 
 things, Terry, more terrible than death. Now 
 promise me,^' he said, '^ you will not open your lipa 
 to me about this again till I give you leave. Good- 
 bye ; I am going out for a little drive, and hope to 
 hear a good account of you from Mr. Nolan.^' 
 And with a fond look and sigh he rose from his 
 chair, patted my head, and kissing my forehead 
 walked out of the room. 
 
 But the idea had now begun to haunt me. There 
 was something more to learn; I could think of 
 nothing else. When Mr. Nolan came I was lying 
 on the ground before my mother^s picture, sobbing 
 as if my heart would break. The pedagogue could
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 55 
 
 make nothing out of my lessons or out of me^ and 
 even the terrors of a bad report to the Doctor did 
 not arouse me to a sense of my preterpluperfect of 
 *^ lego — I read/^ nor brighten me in " Tare and 
 Tret." Mr. Nolan was nibbing a pen when my 
 grandfather returned. 
 
 " The Muses, Doctor," quoth he, " have deserted 
 our little disciple. Mnemosyne hath fled for the 
 day j and although the ferula be forbidden here, 
 perchance diligence might be stimulated by censure 
 and curtailment of the iligancies of living — sugar, 
 and chrame, and the like of that." 
 
 My grandfather had walked over to me, and 
 taking up my arm placed one hand to my wrist 
 and looked at me closely. " Do you feel a head* 
 ache, Terry?" 
 
 '^I do, grandpapa, just here." There was a 
 throbbing pain and fiery flashes through my eyes. 
 
 ^^ Mr. Nolan, I think we will not ask you to 
 come over to-morrow, or till I send Pat across the 
 bog for you. Master Terry is not very well ; I 
 find we must make up a little medicine, and give 
 him rest for a few days." 
 
 It was long ere I rose from my bed : a fever had 
 declared itself. I remember lights before my 
 eyes, and faces as in a vision — my grandfather's.
 
 56 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Honour^s, Mary Butler^s ; others I did not know. I 
 remember crawling, clammy leeches on my brow, 
 the taste of medicines coming through the 
 disguises of the most favourite jams ; I saw in my 
 -sick dreams for ever the heavenly figure floating in 
 the air, with blue eyes fixed on mine, and fair 
 hair sweeping over my shoulders, and arched 
 mouth which returned my ardent loving kisses. 
 Will you bear with me and with all my idle 
 memories for awhile ? I have met in my life men 
 who have said they never knew an hour's illness, 
 and I pitied them, for if they spoke the truth, they 
 could not have experienced the exquisite pleasure 
 of convalescence, the placid joy of recovering 
 health, the grateful tribute to Self paid by all 
 around the sick bed, which becomes a throne from 
 which the sufferer beholds a household kneeling 
 and paying homage ! 
 
 But as I lay, with a sort of languid contentment, 
 looking at those who watched me, noting the ten- 
 derness of Honour and the ever-growing care of my 
 grandfather, who kicked off" his creaky boots in the 
 passage below — stretching my limbs, and now and 
 then baring my sleeve to look at the bony arm and 
 wasted fingers, there was still one thought in my 
 head, ^^ I wonder if grandpapa will tell me when I
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 57 
 
 get well ; I must get well and please hinij and then 
 perhaps he will keep his promise/^ 
 
 The first morning that I was dressed to make 
 an excursion to another room Honour was de- 
 lighted. 
 
 " Ah_, thin ! Masther Terry, shure and your 
 breeches is two inches too short for yez. Why, 
 yev grown like Jack and the Bane Stalk. Wirra ! 
 wirra ! it^s new shoots of clothes ye^ll have to be 
 gettin^ on all sides. It^s a regular goint yer 
 become all along of the faver. See here V she 
 cried to one of the maids ; '^ see here, Katty, 
 if Masther Terry^s not almost as tall as I 
 am, and if he isnH becoming the picture of his 
 mother V^ 
 
 Katty confirmed Honour on both points. Then 
 came the return of strength, which, like some 
 subtle fluid, slowly filled the body, and the 
 great joy of going downstairs arrived one day at 
 last. 
 
 I sat in the sunshine in the porch, till, for very 
 weariness and lack of rest, I begged to be left alone, 
 and asked my grandfather to go out for his daily 
 ride; and then I dosed away in the sunshine, and 
 the face and form of my mother came back again. I 
 left my chair, and with feeble steps tottered through
 
 58 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 the passage till I came to the door of the old 
 " State Room/^ and turning the handle I entered, 
 and with eager eyes turned to the accustomed panel. 
 Good heavens ! she was not there ! The place was 
 vacant ; the picture was gone ! Ere I could collect 
 my senses,, Honour, who had missed me, came 
 into the room, and stood aghast at my face of 
 despair. 
 
 ^^ Ah, thin, Masther Terry ! is it wantin' to gei 
 your death yez are, comin^ into the could room out 
 of the sun ? Yez ought to be ashamed of yerself ; 
 you^U be the death of yer poor grandada, that^s 
 done nothin^ but watch yez, if the sickness comes 
 on yez again. But what are yez cryin' for, at all 
 at all r' 
 
 ^' Oh, Honny ! what have they done with 
 mammals picture V 
 
 ^' The picther ! An' shure hasn't the Docthor 
 sint it to Dublin to git a tich of varnish, and to 
 have a new frame, as the Injy one was fallin' all 
 to pieces, an' it will be back again afore ye can say 
 Jack Robinson. I wish it nivir cum here, bad cess 
 to it for a picther ! I think it's bewitched yez, 
 Masther Terry, shurely." 
 
 As I got better, the morbid influence of my 
 illness, or whatever it was, passed away, but still
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 59^ 
 
 an ever present thought was of my mother. I 
 asked so often about the portrait, that my grand- 
 father confessed it would be a considerable time 
 longer before an artist to whom he had sent it could 
 repair the damage it had sustained by accident on 
 the journey to Dublin.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE DISILLUSION. 
 
 When I got better, I was asked over to the 
 Castle to spend a few days for change of air 
 and scene. There were ponies to ride and 
 chaises to drive ; there were gardens and orchards ; 
 there was a great pond stocked with fish ; and 
 above all, there was Mary Butler (I had been 
 forgiven long ago for my little fib, and we were the 
 best of friends) to play with whenever her governess, 
 Mdlle. Petitot — whom the country people called 
 '^ Mamsell Potatoe" — would let her. Sir Richard 
 I seldom saw during the day. There were grand 
 dinners going on. Mary and I, as we were returning 
 from our morning walk or ride, used to meet fine 
 ladies and gentlemen going downstairs to their 
 breakfast, or watched them, still finer, filing in to 
 dinner ere we retired to rest for the night. 
 
 One day, as we were seated in the garden in an
 
 ADVENTURES OF DOCTOR BRADY. 61 
 
 arbour^ making bouquets out of a large basket of 
 flowers,, under the superintendence of ^^Mamsell 
 Potatoe/^ we were startled by hearing the voices of 
 people coming towards us along the walk. I 
 could distinguish the tones of Sir Richard and 
 Major TurnbuU^ mingled with those of ladies 
 laughing and chatting gaily. I rose, shy and 
 awkward, and prepared for flight ; but little Mary, 
 turning towards Mam^selle, asked — 
 
 " Shall Terry and I go, or shall we stay till 
 uncle comes ?" 
 
 " Mais pourquoi non, ma chere fiUe ? tu est bien 
 propre — fraiche comme une rose ; et le petit Terry, 
 pourquoi va-t-il se cacher quand tout le monde 
 aime le pauvre enfant ? Restez done, tons les 
 deux, chers enfans.^'' 
 
 '^ And here,^^ said Sir Richard, " is one of 
 M^Cracken's pet arbours. He declares it is as 
 good as anything of the kind can be.^^ 
 
 The shadows darkened the entrance, and I heard 
 a voice saying, 
 
 '^ Yes, indeed, it is very pretty. And here is 
 my pretty Mary, the most charming flower in the 
 garden, and her little cavalier. Good day, made- 
 moiselle ! I envy you the charge you have, and 
 the place of your retreat."
 
 62 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 It was my Lady Hautonby who spoke, looking 
 at us through her inseparable glasses, and I felt my 
 cheeks tingle as she went on — " Isn^t that Master 
 O'Brady, or O'Grady, very like Gainsborough's 
 ' Blue Boy' V 
 
 I did not know who or what the " blue 
 l)oy'' was, but I did not like to have the atten- 
 tion of the people, who were all philandering 
 about us, directed specially to myself, and turned 
 away. 
 
 *^ There," she continued, with her dry laugh, ^^ I 
 declare we have got the ' Bashful Irishman' at last. 
 It is only at such an early age the specimen is ever 
 seen ; it dies young." 
 
 ^^ I suppose it's killed in the ungenial climate it 
 is removed to on transplanting. Our society kills 
 the interesting creature !" joined in one of the 
 gentlemen. 
 
 " No, my dear Dolly ! It does not kill ; but, 
 like an acid meeting a salt, forms out of it an insipid 
 neutral." 
 
 And as they swept on again I caught the words 
 from Sir Richard — 
 
 " Did you see how you made your friend. Doctor 
 Brady's little grandson, blush? He's a sensitive 
 little fellow, and has been very ill lately, and so I
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 63 
 
 have had him over to keep Mary company in her 
 solitude here." 
 
 ^^Kind and unthoughtful as usual, Dick," 
 croaked old Mrs. Gregory, his cousin ; " you^lI 
 have him and Miss Molly getting up a youthful 
 :attachment, and I don't suppose you would approve 
 •of the match. I plighted my troth when I was 
 seven years old — didn't I, Dick ?" 
 
 " My dear Letty ! your flirtations began so early 
 — with me, for example — you think such a brilliant 
 commencement is the rule instead of being the ex- 
 ception. I declare we must not talk such folly 
 within the children's hearing. Let us get on, or 
 we shall be late for our ride." 
 
 Mary, who had heard every word as well as 
 myself, put her little hand in mine and exclaimed, 
 laughingly — 
 
 ^' Mam'selle, you see Terry and I are to be 
 lovers, and I shall be very fond of him if he doesn't 
 tell any more stories." 
 
 But Mam'selle was by no means satisfiedwith such 
 a pronunciamento ; and she said with great severity — 
 
 " Mees Maree, a leedle ladie as you should not 
 speak such dings ; Master Bradee blush for your 
 indiscreetness of language." At which Mary 
 laughed immensely.
 
 64 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 ^^ Why^ my dear governess^ I have the example 
 of Cousin Letty, and Terry has got the example of 
 Uncle Richard ! You heard what they said." 
 
 But Mam'selle only looked at her watch, and 
 with a little scream exclaimed — 
 
 " It is dime for Mistere Noland to arrive ! You 
 run off to de study or you shall be late, mon cher 
 petit Terry." 
 
 And as I departed I was aware, from the 
 Petitot's manner, that she was about to address 
 to Miss Mary Butler an oration or admonition on her 
 indiscretions^ which that young lady_, tossing back 
 the curls from her forehead^ and folding her hands 
 on her knees as she sat amid a heap of flowers and 
 bouquets, prepared to receive with an expression of 
 the utmost composure and resignation. 
 
 Every day my grandfather called at the Castle 
 to see me, and now and then he rode out 
 with Mary and myself on the ponies, which went 
 full gallop to keep pace with the slowest trot 
 of his hack. One rainy morning, on putting his 
 head into the school-room, he said — 
 
 " Dan will come over to pack up for you to- 
 morrowj Terry. The picture has arrived, and it is 
 time for you to return to Lough-na-Carra." 
 
 " What picture is it your grandfather spoke of.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 65 
 
 Terry ?" asked Mary Butler. " He spoke as if you 
 were to go home because a picture had arrived 
 there/' 
 
 " It is mamma's picture. It was injured going to 
 Dublin to be new framed^ and I am very fond of it.'' 
 " But you never saw your poor mamma, Terry, I 
 think, and how can you be fond of her picture ?" 
 
 " But I am, though. I like to look at her. 
 Oh ! she is so beautiful ! Poor mamma was lost at 
 sea, you know, when I was a baby, and papa died 
 in the army in India just before." 
 
 '' They were talking about it downstairs one 
 evening, when I was called in with the dessert," 
 said Mary, musingly; "yes, I remember — Major 
 TurnbuU was praising your father, and saying what 
 a fine feUow he was ; and he said your mamma was 
 
 the loveliest creature in the world, but " here 
 
 she hesitated and looked down. 
 
 '^ But what — oh, Mary ! I entreat of you, tell 
 me — what were you going to say ? Dear, dear 
 Mary, tell me ! You know you cannot say you 
 don't know, for it would not be true." 
 
 " Well, Terry, perhaps I have no right to repeat 
 things not intended for me to hear. It might 
 hurt you, too ; and it is just as likely Major 
 TurnbuU was wrong." 
 
 VOL. I. 5
 
 ^66 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 " If you don^t tell me^ I declare I will ask Major 
 TurnbuU this very minute what he said of mamma/' 
 I exclaimed, passionately. 
 
 " I cannot help that, Terry. But you must say 
 everything that happened when we were talking. 
 I was wrong, perhaps, at first; but I stopped as 
 soon as I could, Terry, for your sake ; and I wont 
 say a word more.'' 
 
 I knew my little friend too well. I threw down 
 my book, and with bursting heart ran downstairs 
 to the billiard-room, whence came the click of the 
 balls, and the voices of the party at the Castle, 
 detained indoors by the rain. For a moment I 
 stopped at the door irresolute; in another I stood 
 in the room, astonished at my boldness, and said — 
 ^^ If you please. Major TurnbuU, I should like to 
 speak to you for a moment." 
 
 The Major was a tall, lean man, with a face 
 almost the colour of an orange, at least as much of 
 it as could be seen between the close frizzled whis- 
 kers, which, beginning in two walls above his ears, 
 where they seemed inclined to run into his shaggy 
 eyebrows, grew together, passing two oases of wrin- 
 kled cheek, and a thin, high nose, and reinforced in 
 their course by a heavy drooping moustache, grew 
 into a massive beard, black as his short-cropped
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 67 
 
 hair. His eye was keen_, dark^ and quick^ and there 
 was something in his manner which made one feel 
 that it was only by an exercise of self-control, and a 
 desire to be civil, that Major Turnbull was prevented 
 from "ordering^"' one whenever he spoke. He had 
 a cue in one hand when I entered, and was patting 
 the other with the upper part, as he surveyed the 
 table and meditated a stroke. " Hullo V' quoth 
 the Major, turning round, and putting his cue butt 
 on the ground, as with his left hand he removed 
 a cigar from his lips and let out a prodigious 
 cloud of smoke. " And what the deuce do you 
 want with me, my little man ?'' 
 
 " Please, Major, I want to speak to you alone, if 
 you please.^^ 
 
 " I say, Turnbull, this looks serious. Shall I 
 finish your game for you V^ cried Mr. Casey. " It 
 is a cartel Terry has brought you, depend on it ; 
 I never saw so grave a youngster in my life.''^ 
 
 " What is it, my boy ?'' quoth the Major, kindly. 
 ^' Speak out, and tell me what it is you want of 
 me.^^ 
 
 "Indeed, Major Turnbull, I want to speak to 
 you quite alone — only you and I two together.^' I 
 looked at him alone, and saw the quaint look in 
 his eyes. 
 
 5—5
 
 68 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 ^^ What on earth can it be ? However, I never 
 refuse an interview to a gentleman_, and we will 
 have it out/-' he said, with a smile, " as soon as 
 I have finished this game of billiards. Sit down 
 there beside Lady Hantonby till it is over, Terry /^ 
 
 ^^No, Major," I replied, for I was so impatient 
 and angry I could scarce keep in my tears of vexa- 
 tion ; ^' I will wait for you outside in the hall, if 
 you please/^ And as I withdrew I heard a laugh, 
 and Lady Hautonby exclaimed — " What a rude 
 ungallant boy. I shall not forgive you, ]\Iajor 
 TurnbuU, for exposing me to such a rebuff." 
 
 But I did not care. The click clack of the balls, 
 the pauses between, the drawling call of the gen- 
 tleman who was marking — " Fawty-taw ! Thawty- 
 noine" — grated on my ear, and seemed inter- 
 minable ; at length there was a thumping of cues 
 on the floor, and a clapping of hands, and then 
 Major TurnbuU, who had won the game, came out 
 in the best humour in the world, and said — '' Well, 
 my little man, and what do you want to see me 
 for V 
 
 " Do come into the greenhouse, or into the cor- 
 ridor, or anywhere that I can speak to you," en- 
 treated I. " Oh ! you can^t think how miserable I
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 69 
 
 " Whew '/' whistled the Major. " By Jove, this 
 is the oddest thing. Just fancy ! Here am I 
 going along led by the sleeve to be made a confidant 
 of by this Tartar of a boy. Eh ? miserable, Terry ? 
 why then you must be in love — or maybe you 
 owe money in Kilmoyle, to Mrs. McNulty, for 
 gingerbread. One can be cured; the other, espe- 
 cially at your age, is beyond me.''^ I did not 
 mind his talk, but led him unresisting by the arm 
 till we came to a glass-covered passage leading 
 to the greenhouses. No one was there. I shut 
 the door, and then stopping in front of the Major, 
 who was now regarding me with an expression of 
 wonder, and a certain air of alarm, I said—" Major 
 TurnbuU, did you ever see my mother ?^^ 
 
 " Eh, what ? — your mother ? — Mary Billing ? 
 'Billing and Cooing,^ as we called her. Egad, I 
 should think so — often and often ; why do you ask, 
 Terry?" 
 
 There was something in his tone which hurt me. 
 " I know she is dead, and I never can see her. Major 
 Turnbull. Oh ! if you knew how I love her. I can 
 only look at her picture. I can never find out all 
 I want to know about her. No one will talk of 
 her. But you have seen her, and you knew her. 
 Miss Butler has heard you speaking of her. Oh,
 
 70 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 do. Major, tell me all about her, and I will pray for 
 you on my knees night and morning/^ 
 
 The Major was moved. He flopped down on one 
 of the seats, and said kindly — ^' Come here, Terry ; 
 sit beside me and tell me what you want to know. 
 It^s odd,^^ he said, musingly, " it is very — ^very 
 odd. Here, now, is her picture driving her poor 
 
 little son as mad as well, no matter.''"' He 
 
 went on after a pause — ^' Your mother, Terry, was, 
 without exception, the loveliest creature I ever saw. 
 She was at once pretty and beautiful. That picture, 
 though it''s good enough, is no more equal to her 
 than that,^^ said the Major, snapping his fingers for 
 want of a better simile. " Lovely ! by Jove, I should 
 think so. Ask Towser, who literally went mad about 
 her ! Ask Jack Nicholson, who went to the dogs 
 
 about her ! Ask but what the deuce am I 
 
 talking to you about ? I tell you, my dear Terry, 
 every man Jack of us, when I was quartered, years 
 ago, at Cawnpore, was perfectly raving about her 
 beauty, and her grace, and her fascinations, and 
 her accomplishments. No, Fm wrong there — hold 
 hard — Belle Billing was not accomplished. In fact, 
 how could she be ! She never was in Europe, and 
 they don^t do the finishing touches in India — 
 in fact, can^t educate anything but natives, tigers.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 71 
 
 bad livers, and the pagoda-tree. Besides, old 
 
 Billing was an awful scamp. That is Yon see, 
 
 Terry, being your grandfather, I should not say that_, 
 perhaps — but he was a terrible fellow for beer and 
 play. No doubt about it. Ask any old Indian 
 when you grow up what Beery Billing was. He 
 was not in the Company's service — not regu- 
 larly. He had been brought up under old 
 Skinner. He was rather a pet of Sadut Ali — he 
 commanded the crack regiment of the King of Oude, 
 and, by Jove, usedn^t he to give it to the talookdars. 
 I remember hearing " 
 
 " Oh, dear Major Turnbull,^^ interrupted I, " tell 
 me about him after. Now let me hear you speak of 
 poor dear mamma.^^ 
 
 " Poor dear mamma !" said the Major, repeating 
 my words twice, and emitting another cloud of to- 
 bacco. " Do you know that sounds very funny ? 
 Fancy this great Irish lad talking to me here in the 
 middle of Ireland of Molly Billing as ^ poor dear 
 mamma !' Egad, it is astonishing. Yes — let me 
 think — Well, as I was saying, your mother's father 
 married some girl who came out on spec with a 
 cargo of spins — a Miss Deighton, I remember it was^ 
 because poor Jem Deighton, who was some sort of 
 relative of hers, had a quarrel with Billing about his
 
 72 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 treatment of her, and hit him through the shoulder^ 
 which made Billing behave worse to her than ever. 
 She went off — That is — hem — there was a separation, 
 you know. Your grandmother died soon after, and 
 old Billing was left with one little daughter, who was 
 brought up quite among the natives. That was your 
 mother. She could talk Persian like an interpreter, 
 and understood all the dialects, and played on their 
 cursed instruments. — Aye, by Jove, she made music 
 out of them, too, though it^s almost incredible. I^m 
 not quite sure if she didn^t wear bangles when she 
 was young, and I know she had a tiny hole in her 
 nostril, where they made her wear a ring till she 
 took it out. Well, Colonel Billing got into trouble 
 with the Oude people at last. He burned a fort 
 with a talookdar in it, by way of making him pay 
 up his taxes, and it was said he didn^t keep his 
 accounts on the square. He fled to Cawnpore 
 with his daughter, then a little creature, the love- 
 liest you ever saw, and lived at the various 
 messes, pestering the Government, when he was 
 sober, with petitions and memorials, and plotting 
 with rascally malcontents in Lucknow, and going from 
 bad to worse — in fact, he was a tremendous scamp. 
 Fm sorry to say so of your grandfather, Terry. 
 Driving home one night from mess, old Jack Billing
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 73 
 
 insisted on putting his buggy over a cliff near the 
 river, and saved some one the trouble of breaking 
 his neck. The Belle was sorrier for him than he 
 deserved. As I tell you^ his daughter grew up 
 more beautiful every day. All the ladies of the 
 station were delighted to have her with them till 
 she became the belle, and then she had a bad time 
 of it with the young ones. They said she was flighty, 
 extravagant, mischievous — all sorts of things. But 
 no one could stand her smile and her playfulness 
 when she desired to gain them. The Brigadier^s 
 wife was like a mother to her, and it was believed 
 they would adopt her. Your father^s regiment 
 came to the station just after her father's 
 death. In less than two months we were all 
 envying poor Brady — one of the dearest, kindest, 
 bravest, simplest souls ever God put breath into — 
 for his good fortune in being about to marry the 
 Belle of India. That is, the young fellows did. 
 Some of the old "'uns, and all the women, shook 
 their heads. ^I hope they may be happy,' said 
 the Brigadier's wife to me — I was a sub then, 
 and aide to the general — ' but I fear it may not 
 be so.' It was in the evening, as we were looking 
 at the last of the litters moving off to the hills 
 where the bride and bridegroom were going to spend
 
 74 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 their honeymoon. I was rather startled^ for Mrs. 
 Crosby was a kind, good woman, and hated scandal, 
 and was as fond as a mother of Mary Billing. * Can 
 there be any doubt of it, my dear madam ?^ I ex- 
 claimed. ^ I can answer for him with my life ; and 
 you know what she is.'' ' Alas ! I do not,^ said Mrs. 
 Crosby. ' I confess I never could understand her. 
 She could win any one in a moment ; but when she 
 had won him or her, she flung away her triumph and 
 cared for it no longer. I almost fancy, if a human 
 creature could be so, she has no soul — like that water- 
 maiden of De la Mothe Fouque. She is so vain, so 
 fond of pleasure, so intensely selfish. Poor thing, 
 she is very young ; and then think how she has 
 been brought up. I almost fancy she loved Charles 
 Eraser at one time. After the race ball I spoke to 
 her about him. She reddened a little, and said — 
 ^Oh, yes; Charlie is a dear daddy long-legs. But 
 he^s got no rupees, and so, my dear Mrs. Crosby, 
 I have told him it is no go.' ' Well, but,^ said 1, 
 ' Captain Brady is not over troubled with rupees 
 either.' ^ No ; but then she had heard he had 
 a rich old father, and a fine place at home, and 
 that he had noble relations, great prospects, and was 
 certain to get on in the army.' ^ He has no noble 
 relations in England,' I remarked. ^ There is a
 
 DOCTOE BRADY. 75 
 
 Spanish grandee of the name who is related to 
 them. He has a cousin a field-marshal of the 
 empire and a count ; and another who is head 
 chamberlain to the King of Naples/ She laughed 
 and said — " It^s all the same to me. What do I 
 care about England ? I was never there. His burr a 
 sahibs in Spain and those other places will like me 
 all the better.^^ The fact is, dear Mr. Turnbull, she 
 is, I am sorry to say, rather ignorant, and very 
 selfish. I was pained to see her face yesterday 
 when I took out my jewel-case to give her some 
 presents. You saw the diamond and emerald set 
 she wore ? Well, it was in the case in which I 
 have my court diamonds, which belonged to my 
 aunt. Lady Trafford, and when I gave them to her, 
 her eyes were fixed with a look which made me 
 feel almost cold on the large diamonds, and she 
 seemed quite disappointed when I closed the box/ 
 Fm telling you^^ — the Major had gone on smoking 
 and talking, and now stopped — '' Terry, what Mrs. 
 Crosby said. Don^t cry, my lad, I did not say I 
 believed it.^^ 
 
 " Yes,'^ I sobbed, " you are all abusing her — all 
 down on my poor dead mother." 
 
 " Terry," said the Major, gravely, " if you go 
 on in this way I will tell you no more; and,
 
 76 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 begad, I think I have told you a good deal too 
 much/^ 
 
 I pressed his hand_, and my eyes entreated him 
 to forgive me. 
 
 " Well, but what use will it be T' remonstrated 
 the Major. ^^ You ask me to tell you all I know, 
 and you get fretted if I do. I was only telling 
 you what a very good kind friend of your mother's 
 said of her before her marriage. In fact, I know 
 little more, my lad,'' he continued, slowly, "than that 
 your father and mother came back from the hills, 
 where they had been very gay and hospitable, 
 giving splendid parties, which he detested; and 
 they lived very fast in the plains — a large establish- 
 ment. I am obliged to talk to you as if you un- 
 derstood all these things, you see. I dare say 
 your grandfather can tell you it cost a lot of money. 
 Any way the thing could not go on without a 
 great fortune to back it. But any one who could 
 have seen the — ah, yes, Mrs. Brady — in all her 
 glory, driving her little pony team to the band 
 parade, with no end of mounted grooms and 
 chuprassies, and running footmen in attendance, 
 beheld the gay levee round her carriage, and 
 watched her receiving homage from every man 
 jack within miles of the station, would have
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 77 
 
 thought ruin a cheap price to be the husband 
 of such a brilliant being as Mem Sahib Brady 
 Mohtec. I can tell you, as I said, but little 
 more. The Brigadier^s time was up, and I 
 went back to my regiment soon after their re- 
 turn/' 
 
 The Major paused for a moment. He reflected 
 and continued — '^ You know, Terry, your father 
 had a bad wound before his marriage ? Well, 
 he got very weak and ill. He was ordered 
 home on sick leave; but it sometimes happens 
 that a fellow can't go when the doctors bid 
 him. I heard of his death, poor dear fellow, 
 when I was up bear-shooting in Kashmir, after 
 you were born. And the next thing I heard was 
 the loss of the Ross -shire — the wreck in which 
 you were saved, and so many were lost, my poor 
 boy !" 
 
 " Yes,'' I cried ; '^ I was saved ! Why was I not 
 lost with my darling mother ? I am quite miserable 
 when I think of it. Grandfather is very kind, but 
 I would sooner have been washed away with her 
 than live on always thinking — thinking — dreaming, 
 and wishing to see her — Oh ! so sick I am wishing 
 — and all in vain." 
 
 "This, boy, is quite absurd. Why, if your
 
 78 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 mother" — the Major broke out, dashing down his 
 cigar — " could J by cutting off a curl of her hair, 
 save — well — herself. You see she was that kind 
 of woman who isn^t easily understood ; and, by the 
 Lord, Terry \" he added, " I am not sure this 
 moment what became of her. If she didn^t want 
 to be drowned, hang me if the Indian Ocean could 
 do it." 
 
 ^^ I cannot understand you. Are you not sure 
 she was lost ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, of course. — But — oh, yes ! certainly 
 lost," said the Major, lighting another cigar. " Lost 
 beyond all manner of doubt. You see, Terry, there 
 was awful confusion on board — a crowd of native 
 women, ayahs, and all that sort. Your mamma's 
 name was put in the list of those who perished. 
 I wonder, by the by, what they would have done 
 at Lough-na-Carra had your mother arrived there 
 with all her staff. Do you know, she left Calcutta 
 with seventeen domestics, male and female ! Some 
 of the women certainly went over the side — no 
 doubt of that. When I tell you, Terry, that 
 all the questions you have put to me are due to 
 my saying several of the passengers declared 
 they saw your mother at Galle after the ship put 
 in there, you may fancy how wrong I was to
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 79 
 
 repeat such gossip, and get myself into this long 
 confab with jou/' 
 
 " But if she was alive after the wave washed the 
 others away, and the ship arrived at that place, 
 where did she die, or what became of mamma ?^' 
 
 " Pon my honour, Terry, I don't know. When 
 I said ^ they,^ I should properly have said ' she,^ 
 for it was only Mrs. Trimmer, who came with your 
 mother from Lucknow, where she went after her 
 husband^s death, that said it/^ 
 
 '^And what did she say, sir?^^ 
 
 " Mrs. Trimmer was a chatty old person — much 
 given to scandal, Terry. She used to tell us all at 
 Leamington she was quite sure she saw your 
 mother in Galle, walking to the quay, and that she 
 went off in a boat to a foreign ship which was 
 bound for the French settlement below Madras — 
 Pondicherry it's called.''^ 
 
 "Why should she go there if she were safe?'^ 
 
 " That's more than I can say.'' 
 
 " And what became of the servants ?" 
 
 " They ? Oh ! they stopped at Galle ; all except 
 that precious fellow your native nurse. Captain 
 Fraser, who was on board coming home, and who was 
 taking charge of your mamma, arranged all that, 
 and could have told you more than I can. But he
 
 80 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 was taken ill at Galle^ and when lie recovered, 
 instead of coming home he went back to India, and 
 has never returned since. I declare/^ said the Major, 
 looking at his watch, ^' it^s near lunch time. Now, 
 my dear lad, V\q told you everything I think you 
 would care to know ; and were you not the son of 
 my dear old friend, I assure you I should have 
 thought you rather a bore. Good-bye; we^ll meet 
 often, I dare say.''^ 
 
 He was opening the door, when a thought 
 struck him, and closing it, he said softly — 
 
 " I am thinking it is very foolish of you to 
 disturb your mind by this anxiety about your 
 mother, who must be dead and gone so many 
 years. It wiU be better for your peace to think of 
 it no more. Always keep your father's memory in 
 honour, for he was a trump. And remember, 
 Terry, I can't do much, but if ever you want any- 
 thing except advice or money — if I gave you the 
 first it would be bad, perhaps ; and of the second 
 I've little indeed — come to me for your father's 
 sake, and I'll do my best. Good- bye, again." 
 
 I sat in a state of bewilderment which caused 
 the Major's words to sound as if they came to me 
 in a dream. I had read of miraculous escapes from 
 shipwreck — ^how a plank or a spar had borne some
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 81 
 
 half-lifeless creature into a calm creek^ or a wave 
 had cast him ashore; and how_, after years 
 of absence, the lost one had returned to friends 
 and home. I had oftentimes pictured to myself 
 a nook in some lone islet_, where, surrounded by 
 strange plants and flowers and animals, tamed by 
 her beauty and gentleness, my mother was living — 
 perhaps with her faithful servant, perhaps held in 
 mild captivity by amiable savages. India was to 
 me a land of marvels and wonders — the haunt of 
 genii and magicians. Why might not the lovely 
 girl have been carried in safety by some subtle 
 charm through the seas, and found a haven in 
 one of the happy isles? " Telemachus,^"' the 
 "Tales of the Genii,'' '^Robinson Crusoe," 
 " Perilous Adventures,'' and the " Arabian Nights," 
 lent their aid to a hundred devices, conjectures, 
 and theories. I vowed over and over again that 
 the first use of my independence and manhood 
 should be to make full exploration of all 
 the reefs, and caves, and islands far and near, 
 where the cruel sea had played its part. Many 
 I a happy hour had spent in the imaginary 
 search, crowned by the bliss of discovering 
 what I sought for. Into these secrets of my 
 soul I let no one pry; they were kept and 
 
 VOL. I. 6
 
 82 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 nurtured for myself alone; I feared to expose 
 my meditations and my plans to the rough criticism 
 which might destroy the illusions. But now, somehow 
 or other, the story I had just heard seemed to search 
 them out — the ideal I had enshrined in my heart 
 was rudely shaken in its place. " Billing and Cooing, 
 as we called her^^ — ^^ Belle Billing V' — these and 
 other words he had used about '^^ fellows being in love^^ 
 with her — the account of her father — the tone in 
 which he spoke, as if she were an extravagant, heart- 
 less creature, who had not made my father happy, 
 and who flirted with every one, and was so selfish ! 
 '^ Could it be true ? No ! Do not believe them, 
 Terry ! Nature itself pleads in your breast against 
 these thoughts. And instead of confirming the 
 story of her fate, the Major's gossiping reports 
 render it all the more likely she is living.^' 
 
 The grating of wheels on the drive outside in- 
 terrupted my reflections. It was the old carriage 
 from Lough-na-Carra, and I hastened away to my 
 room to get ready for my return. 
 
 " And mamma's picture has come home, grand- 
 papa?'' I asked, in great glee, as we were driving 
 back. " I shall be so glad to see her again." 
 
 " Yes ; your favourite study is in its old place. 
 I must tell you that I have decided on sending you
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 8S 
 
 to Dublin to school ; and as you are so very fond 
 of that picture, I have got an artist to take a copy 
 of it_, which you can have and hang up in your 
 room when you go to Dr. BalFs,, next month. ^'' 
 
 The blow of the announcement was softened, but 
 the effect of the surprise, the new idea that I was 
 to leave Lough-na-Carra, prevented my saying a 
 word. 
 
 " Dr. Ball is an excellent man/^ continued my 
 grandfather ; " he will take every care of you, and 
 you will not be alone. Maurice Prendergast is 
 going there too, and you will leave together in a 
 few weeks. It will only be till Midsummer, when 
 you come home for the holidays."'^ 
 
 Maurice Prendergast was the son of a country 
 gentleman who had a small estate not very far from 
 Lough-na-Carra. He was a good-looking boy, 
 about my own age, but less strongly built; and 
 Mr. Nolan, who had been entrusted with the charge 
 of his education, declared he was " impiger, ira- 
 cundus, inexorahilis — a temper rather of Achilles than 
 of Hector — in fact, a perfect young divil at times,, 
 as the Prendergasts were apt to be."^ Still it was a 
 comfort to have him as a companion ; and my regrets 
 at my departure were much diminished when on 
 running into the old room I saw underneath the 
 
 6—2
 
 84 ADVENTURES OF DOCTOR BRADY. 
 
 picture of my mother^ resting on the floor^ a canvas 
 of the same size^ with a copy so fairly executed as 
 to give little cause for objection. The eyes were 
 more blue^ the colour on the cheeks was brighter, 
 the teeth were whiter, the hair fairer, but the ex- 
 pression was at first sight pretty nearly the same ; 
 and it was only on a close examination that I missed 
 something in the copy which was in the original, 
 and yet I could not say what. Under the new 
 frames of the pictures were tablets, on which was 
 inscribed, " Mary, wife of Captain Brady : setat. 16. 
 Obiit27th May, »tat. 18.'^
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE JOURNEY. 
 
 It was on a bright frosty morning towards the 
 end of January that the SHgo royal mail drove up 
 to the "Desmond Arms/^ in the town of Kilmoyle, to 
 change horses^ and to take up the two juvenile pas- 
 sengers who had been sitting in the parlour and 
 running out every now and then to take a look up 
 the main street for the coach. Mr. Prendergast and 
 the Doctor were discussing politics, the Reform 
 Bill and the Repeal of the Union, over the fire. 
 Maurice and I, proud of the permission to travel 
 outside, had arranged our luggage in two piles at 
 the door, and were discussing the probable character 
 of Dr. BaU. 
 
 " He is an awful fellow for caning, I can tell 
 you. He used to lick my father till he was black 
 and blue : and Dan Casey was taken away because 
 the doctor battered him so,-*^ said Maurice. " But
 
 86 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 that was a long time ago^ and he can't be so strong. 
 If he tries to whale me/^ he added^ setting his 
 teeth^ " V\\ kick his shins and blacken his eyes/^ 
 
 '' Whose T' exclaimed I, " Dan Case/s T' 
 
 '^ No/' answered Maurice, fiercely, " Dr. BalFs, 
 or any one else's who ventures to beat me.''' 
 
 " But if you deserve it ?" 
 
 ^' No matter,, whether or no. I'll try not to de- 
 serve it, and if I can't help it that's not my fault, 
 and I'm not to be licked for what I can't help. 
 But I say, what have you got there ?" 
 
 The helper had just brought in a large square 
 case and put it up against the wall near my 
 boxes. 
 
 " That's my mother's picture," I replied. " It's 
 going to Dublin with me.'' 
 
 " But you're not going to take it to school with 
 you ?" said Maurice. " You'll have all the chaps 
 laughing at you." 
 
 " I am, indeed ; let them laugh, and welcome. 
 Here comes our coach." 
 
 The four horses, with outstretched necks, dilated 
 nostrils, and heaving sides, were already going off to 
 the stables, wreathed in steam, and Mr. Tunks, the 
 coachman, was surveying us over the rim of a glass 
 of " spirits," his red face rising from a cloud of
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 87 
 
 mufflers^ and his drab coat of many capes just leav- 
 ing a glimpse of tlie scarlet and gold lace which were 
 the admiration of the road in fine weather ; the 
 only sign of his dignity as a royal servant now 
 visible being a broad gold band on his battered 
 wide-brimmed beaver ; as my grandfather and Mr. 
 Prendergast emerged from the inn in conference 
 with M^Clnskey^ the Guard — a shorty square-set, 
 active fellow^ with a quick brown eye, high check 
 bonesj and broad face. ^^ Pll never lose sight of 
 them till I hand them over to the doctor^s man 
 at the post-office. The two outsides that were 
 booked from Boyle, Mr. Tunks/^ he added to 
 the coachman. Mr. Tunks gave a grunt. It 
 was his usual style of conversation, and it was 
 quite wonderful how much he could make the 
 guttural sound express. There was a tradition 
 that many years ago he was a colloquial, lively 
 sort of person, but that having overturned his 
 coach and killed a passenger by careless driving 
 whilst conversing with the box-seat, he had 
 made a vow against gratuitous speech, and had 
 kept it. 
 
 " Now thin, Pat, look sharp there. Get up 
 these things, you and Owney. And what's that ?" he 
 shouted, as the two men took up my wooden case,
 
 88 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 '^ what in the name of all that's good are you going 
 to do with that V 
 
 " It^s Lough-na-Carra luggage^ Mr. M^Cluskey, 
 belonging to the young masther/' 
 
 " And^ shure^ donH you see it can't go ? It 
 can't go into the box_, anyway^ and I can't have it 
 stuck up there,, as if it was a dining-table at Dublin 
 Castle." 
 
 " Well^ never mind^ Terry/' said my grand- 
 father, ^^ it shall go up by the coach. It will be 
 only a day after ; this is the mail, and they don't 
 take such heavy things. Now mount, my boy; 
 you have the two seats behind the coachman." 
 
 The doctor embraced me affectionately, old Mr. 
 Prendergast shook hands with his son, Mr. Tunks 
 clambered up to his perch, exhibiting two enormous 
 top boots in the feat. The Guard had sprung 
 lightly into his seat, and the helpers were just 
 about letting go the horses' heads, whilst Mr. 
 Tunks's whip-lash was describing a long curve in 
 the air, when there was a cry of " Stop ! stop a 
 minute !" and a groom in the blue and white livery 
 of the Castle dashed alongside on a smoking horse, 
 with a parcel under his arm, and a little note, ^^ it's 
 for you, Masther Terry. The young missus sent 
 it to you, and Sir Richard's put something inside.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 89 
 
 Begorra, tlie mail was nigli startin^ too soon for 
 me/^ In another instant, to the "All right be- 
 hind V' of the guard, the leaders were let go, the 
 Guard executed a flourishing and broken version of 
 " Garryowen'"' on his Kent bugle, and amid " God 
 bless you V from the dear grandfather, and the 
 " hurroo^^ of the crowd of idlers always present on 
 such occasions, the Sligo mail went off at its fixed 
 rate of nine Irish miles an hour. 
 
 The parcel lay at my feet. The letter, with a 
 large seal, was one of the kind known to young 
 ladies in the pre- envelope period, being a pentagon 
 of many folds, and was directed in a large angular 
 hand to " Master Brady, passenger to Dublin.^^ I 
 opened it, and inside was a piece of paper, rather 
 dirty and discoloured, which proved on subsequent 
 examination to be an Irish bank-note. I read : — 
 
 " January 27, Wen'sday Night. 
 " My dear Terry, — Uncle and mam^selle have 
 let me write to you, and so I write to say how sorry 
 I am you are going to leave us. Mam^selle says I 
 should say this in French ; but I think you would 
 like English better. Be sure not to forget us, and 
 say your prayers always. I send you a cake we had 
 made for you; I hope you will like it. Uncle is
 
 90 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 sorry too you are going. He hopes you will accept 
 tlie present he sends you,, and that it may be useful. 
 You are not to get into fights ; but Major Turn- 
 bull says if any boy tries to bully you you must 
 not let himj and that may lead to fighting. The 
 cake is a seedcake. Adieu. 
 
 '^ Believe me to remain very truly, 
 
 " Mary Butler. 
 
 " Mrs. BurgesSj Mam^selle, and aU of us send 
 their regards. 
 
 '^ N.B. — We will see you at Midsummer.^' 
 
 I read the letter twice, folded it up, and put it 
 into the pocket of my jacket, under my greatcoat. 
 When I looked up Maurice was regarding me from 
 under his dark eyebrows with a curious expression, 
 but he said nothing. I was delighted with the 
 buoyancy of the motion, the rush of the keen air, 
 the wide view across the flat country, bounded by 
 the blue hills over the course of the Shannon. I 
 had left my pays de connaissance — all was new to 
 me. From time to time Mr. M'^Cluskey shouted out 
 scraps of information over the pile of luggage. 
 
 ^^ That^s Mr. Joyce's, of Beaupark ! — there, ever 
 so far beyant, is Persse of Blackcastle ! Look at 
 the Round Tower there — built be the Danes it was.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 91 
 
 though the Doctor will have it was Christians had a 
 hand in it. This is Bally duff we^re coming into — 
 divil such a place for pigs in Ireland — and there^s 
 no keeping free of them/' 
 
 A solo on the horn gave warning to the pigs and 
 their proprietors of the coming danger^ and we 
 drove through Ballyduff without any serious 
 casualty,, although there was a considerable deal of 
 grunting from Mr. Tunks, and of grunting and 
 squeahng from the pigs^ as they were coerced by 
 whip and stick to leave their pleasant places. We 
 had left the town when Maurice^ who had been 
 sitting silent^ said — 
 
 ^' Do you often go to the Castle T' 
 
 " Now and then. Do you ? I never met you 
 there.'' 
 
 " No ; we don't visit there much. Papa and 
 Sir Richard don't agree. They've had law-suits, 
 and they have disputes about politics. Do you 
 know all the land the Desmonds own was once 
 ours ?" 
 
 " No ! was it indeed, Maurice ? How did it 
 become theirs ?" 
 
 " Yes. And all the Lough-na-Carra land, and as 
 far as you can see from Kilmoyle to the hills near 
 the sea. Papa has it all on a map."
 
 92 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 " But you have]i''t told me how it was lost. I 
 thought the Bradys always owned Lough-na-Carra, 
 and ever so much beside/^ 
 
 " That may be ; but I tell you what papa says, 
 and though he is poor no one ever dared to say he 
 told a lie. My ancestor came over with Strongbow, 
 and he got ever so much of the west of Ireland — 
 but it has all been stolen from us.''^ 
 
 " But then, Maurice, you know your ancestor 
 took it from some one else — some poor Irish chiefs 
 — I believe we are Irish ; and perhaps you took our 
 land, you know.^' 
 
 '' And why not ? "We fought for it and won it ; 
 that^s what I say is the best way. But the laws 
 and religion robbed us of our own, and the only 
 way to get it back is to fight for it. Do you 
 know," he exclaimed, angrily, ^' that we were 
 punished because we took the side of our lawful 
 king and would not change our religion ? and we 
 were called '^ rebels^ and ^ papists^ by the traitors 
 and the apostates who were lucky." 
 
 '^ Well, but, Maurice, suppose we were always 
 to go on fighting, there wotdd be no peace. If you 
 could get Sir Richard^s lands by force, he would try 
 to get them from you by force again." 
 
 " Peace ! — I want no peace. I want nothing I
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 93 
 
 can^t keep by my own strength. We all — my father 
 says — ButlerSj Geraldines, Desmonds, Bourkes, 
 Prendergasts, Cogans, and Laurences, and the rest 
 — won Ireland under Strongbow for ourselves and 
 not for the king; and some of them have con- 
 trived to keep their own, and to take that of 
 the others who would not sneak and toady those 
 English. And the English set us fighting, and 
 made laws to crush us, till they^ve made us all 
 miserable like that fellow there V 
 
 He pointed as he spoke to a peasant who was 
 driving a pig along, and who drew up by the side 
 to let the coach pass. On his head was something 
 like a battered black saucepan without a handle ; 
 his coat was composed of an infinity of pieces, 
 which no art could form into a continuous garment, 
 and through the rents were visible a ragged waist- 
 coat, and through the chinks in the vest could be 
 seen a tattered shirt ; his nether man, terminating in 
 a pair of bare feet, blue and red, was imperfectly 
 covered by corduroy pantaloons, patched and torn, 
 making an abortive attempt to effect a junction 
 with his footless stockings of worsted. He seemed 
 in the best of good humour, tossed up his stick and 
 caught it with one hand, whilst he took a sharp 
 haul on his pig's tether with the other, and
 
 94 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 grinned with delight as he received the Guard^s 
 salutation. 
 
 ^^Who is that poor man, Mr. M'Cluskey ?" I 
 asked, over the luggage. 
 
 " Poor ! He ? Tim Doolan ? Faix, he^s not poor 
 at all, at all ! Til be bound Tim has a hundred and 
 fifty goulden guineas in a pot somewhere this 
 minnit. He^s a warm man for these parts, pays 
 Major Goff twenty-five pounds a year rent, and has 
 as fine land as any in the county. Och ! I wish we 
 were all poor like him, I do. And he drivin^ home 
 that pig, that^s worth maybe fifty shillings at laste, 
 as it stands. ^^ 
 
 " I daresay, Maurice,^^ I continued, " that man 
 may hate you and me because he thinks we have 
 his land. I don^t understand these questions, but 
 I never come to the dining-room but they^re all 
 talking of them, and I detest all about it."^ 
 
 "Do you know Miss Butler, at the Castle, 
 Terry T' 
 
 " Yes, of course I do ; that little letter that came 
 and the parcel were from her, and Sir Richard sent 
 me a pound note.^^ 
 
 "I think she is very pretty. They say if Sir 
 Richard^s brother, who is out in India, dies, she 
 will own all the estates, and that if some other old
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 95 
 
 Butler on her father^s side dies also slie will be a 
 great heiress in her own right/^ 
 
 I do not know how it was^ but I did not like 
 talking to Maurice Prendergast of Mary Butler ; 
 and as the novelty of the scene wore oflP, there was 
 a good deal of monotony in the cold drive of twelve 
 hours to the city^ which to my imagination was the 
 finest in the world. At each stage M'^Cluskey dis- 
 played his activity by leaping from his seat over the 
 rail clean to the ground^ and at each stage he duly 
 came to the coach-door with a glass of whisky and 
 water for an inside passenger. 
 
 ^' The coloneFs colic is very bad to-day, 
 Mr. Tunks/^ he said, with a wink; ''^ that's the 
 seventh dandy he^s had since startin^, poor 
 man V 
 
 Later in the day we were aware that the inside 
 passenger was singing in a very cracked voice, 
 and when we halted for dinner I saw a tall, thin 
 old man, with a very red face, closely shaved, 
 balancing himself with great dignity as he got down. 
 He had a very fierce grey eye, rolling in a kind of 
 watery medium, as though it were preserved in 
 spirits. 
 
 " Why don^t you hold up your horses, siiTah T' 
 he burst out, angrily ; '' you^'re not fit to drive.
 
 96 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 I^m hanged if I don't get you dishmiss^ to go 
 breaking gentlemen's necks that way V 
 
 Mr. Tunks merely grunted ; and the colonel, 
 eyeing him with much severity as he toddled 
 towards the inn door, shook his fist, and, uttering 
 again the words, '^ I'll get you dishmiss, shure's my 
 name's Finucane !" drew himself bolt upright, and 
 walked as if on a plank in the same direction. 
 
 ^' Ye'd better take no notice of him, me boys !" 
 said the Guard ; '^ the cross dhrop is on him. Och ! 
 an' faith, it's well there's no other inside to-day, 
 or there 'ud be wigs on the green ! He's shot more 
 than one man — the ould scamp ! — before the law put 
 the fear of God into these pistol gintlemin. Ye'll 
 have twenty minits for dinner, and make the most 
 of yer time, and take the value of yer money, I'd 
 advise ye." 
 
 There was a fire at the end of the dining-room, 
 before which the colonel had taken his position 
 with his hands under the tail of his bottle-green 
 coat with brass buttons; his head erect, set in a 
 high bandana, his eye menacing. 
 
 ^^ Shut that door, you boys, — d'ye hear ! — shut 
 that door ! Boys oughtn't to be let travel at all. 
 What's yer names ? — who are ye ? Brady ! Any 
 relation of Mick Brady of Punchestown ? Prender-
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 97" 
 
 gast, eh? Are you a son of Prendergast that was 
 in the Eoyals ? No. So much the better. He was 
 a scut. Fd tell him so if he was here this minute. 
 
 I would, by 1" and he thumped the table till 
 
 the glasses rang, by which he appeared much molli- 
 fied. He ate like an ogre and drank like a 
 fish ; Maurice and I could scarce take our eyes off 
 him. At last he roared — " What are you boys 
 staring at ? If I catch you again, by japers 
 Fll teach, you manners, as sure as my name^s 
 Finucane."^ 
 
 We were glad to get up on the top of the coach 
 in the dark, as M'Cluskey, after a note on his 
 bugle outside, came in to announce " Timers up, 
 Colonel j come along, young gintlemin.^^ 
 
 " Isn^t he a dreadful old wretch ? And he has 
 
 shot men, the guard says.''^ 
 
 " I wish I were bigger, Terry, and I^d have 
 
 thrown something at him for his abuse. Wouldn^t 
 
 he have been astonished if I hit him with a plate 
 
 on the nose ?" 
 
 The enjoyment of this picture was diminished by 
 
 the appearance of the Colonel himself at the door, 
 
 with the landlord holding a light for him, and a 
 
 helper with a lantern in attendance. 
 
 " Steady there ! — why don^t you hold that light 
 
 VOL. I. 7
 
 "98 ADVENTURES OF DOCTOR BRADY. 
 
 steady, and be hanged to you ! It^s before your 
 time, sirrah ! Before your time — look at my wash, 
 — Shure^s my name's Finucane, Fll dishmiss you !" 
 — and with sundry lurches and catchings of himself 
 up, the terrible dinner-guest made his way to 
 the coach-door, and with an adroit shove from 
 M'^Cluskey was deposited inside. After a silent 
 drive, and wrapping ourselves up in our coats, we 
 slept in our seats, fastened with a strap by 
 M^Cluskey. There was a gleam of lights in my 
 eyes, and a hand shook me — 
 
 '' Here we are in Dublin. Dr. BalFs man is 
 waiting for ^ouJ*
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE SCHOOL. 
 
 We forget the tears and terrors through which 
 we have passed, or_, remembering, smile at our suf- 
 ferings, exquisite as they were at the time, when we 
 speak of our schoolboy life. It was with a feeling of 
 something like dismay that I contemplated the ex- 
 panse of dark brick, lighted by a solitary lamp over 
 the hall window, which was announced by the 
 . Doctor^s man as the schoolhouse ; nor was it dimi- 
 nished when the drawing of bolts and the grating 
 of locks ceased, and a door, partially opened, per- 
 mitted a fierce face to be seen by the gleam of 
 a candle held high in air, and a gruff voice in- 
 <iuired — 
 
 '' What kept ye so late, sir ?' 
 
 " It's the mail was late, Mr. Cuffc — that's what 
 it was. An' there's a lot of luggidgc, too, for such 
 
 gossoons."
 
 100 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 I had had visions of a hot supper — of blazing 
 fires — of well-lighted rooms on my arrival ; and 
 now I stood with my companion, shivering and 
 hungry, by the yawning expanse of an empty grate, 
 in a gaunt hall, provided with four ancient leather- 
 backed chairs, in which ticked a wheezy but loud- 
 toned clock. The man had deposited our impe- 
 dimenta, and Mr. Cuffe, who had been surveying it 
 in intervals of his close examination of ourselves, 
 having shut and bolted the door, said — 
 
 "Now, Brady! now, Prendergast ! which is which? 
 Very well ; each of you take up his own things, 
 whatever you want for the night, and 1^11 show you 
 the way to bed. Don't make a noise, though ; do 
 you hear?^' 
 
 And without waiting a moment Mr. CufFe's heels, 
 projecting over the ledge of his slippers, began to 
 move rapidly towards a staircase in the distance, 
 and the receding light of his candle told us there 
 was no time to be lost if we did not desire to be 
 left in darkness. Maurice and I seized on a 
 box apiece, and were pattering over the oilcloth, 
 when Mr. Cuffe, turning on the staircase, hissed 
 out — 
 
 " Hish, there ! What d'ye mean by all that noise ? 
 Pull off your brogues, you fellows, or youll have
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 101 
 
 the whole house awake. You must come up the 
 front way/' 
 
 Maurice and I did as we were told — we were 
 tired, cold, sleepy, and obedient. Again Mr. Cuffe 
 continued his career — one stair — a vault-like land- 
 ing — a corridor with polished doors, from which 
 the candle-light was reflected on grim portraits 
 against the wall, terminating in black night — a 
 carpeted floor. 
 
 '^^Make no noise here,'' whispered Mr. Cufl'e. 
 " This is the Doctor's shoot." 
 
 There was next a carpeted staircase ; then another 
 corridor. Mr. Cuffe turned to the left, and at the 
 end halted at a door covered with green baize, 
 which he unlocked, motioning us to pass through, 
 and then locked at the other side. We were in a 
 low whitewashed hall with doors on both sides, and 
 outside each door was a little mound of shoes and 
 boots of all sorts. A sound like the echoes of 
 some distant surf saluted our ears ; and Maurice, 
 answering my look of wonder with a nod, said, as 
 we walked along — 
 
 " Do you hear them snoring 7 What a lot of 
 them there must be !" 
 
 As Mr. Cuffe proceeded down the passage, he 
 halted now and then and listened at the doers.
 
 102 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 and I was aware as we proceeded of creakings 
 behind ns as if one were gently opened. 
 
 '' This/' said Mr. Cujffe, " is your room — ^No. 7. 
 Yon have the best in the lot. Boyd is away — 
 Putland is in the sick dormitory ; and there's only 
 Grierson and '' 
 
 Just at this moment some hea^y body flying 
 through the air^ and skimming over my head,, came 
 from behind. In an instant we were in darkness, 
 as Mr. Cuflfe, with one hand on the door-handle, 
 was lighting us into our bedroom. 
 
 '' ni pay you off for that ! I know you, my 
 boy,'' gasped the tutor, who had been knocked 
 against the door by a hard bolster. '' You boys, go 
 in, and wait till I come with the light. Just look 
 out, O'Brien, for that." 
 
 As Mr. Cuffe groped his way along the 
 passage, we heard the door at the end open and 
 shut. In a moment there was a pattering of many 
 feet, and a rustling as of a storm in the aii\ The 
 noise enveloped us. I was caught by the hair just 
 as I heard Maurice shout out — 
 
 ^^ I say, none of that ! If you hurt me again 
 I'll knock you down." 
 
 It was a rash threat, and I suffered for it as well 
 as he. The urchins who were around us knew no
 
 DOCTOR BEADY. 103 
 
 mercy^ and did know the room ; and joined by the 
 two boys who were in it_, furious at being roused 
 from their sleep, Maurice and 1, striking out 
 blindly, were pinched, cuffed, bolstered, and 
 throttled by unseen arms, till a whistle sounded at 
 the end of the passage, when the pattering, rustliog, 
 and thumping sound was renewed, and died out 
 in a creaking of doors, and in a minute more a 
 light and Mr. Cuffe, with a candle in a lantern in 
 one hand, and a cane in the other, appeared. 
 
 " Och ! och ! and so theyVe been bolstering you, 
 have they ! You must put a penny to your eye, 
 Brady. Now, you Grierson — you Cole ! don^t be 
 shamming there. You^'ll have to report who did it 
 in the morning to the doctor.^^ 
 
 Grierson and Cole were very fast asleep indeed 
 — Cole^s snoring was of the most solid and porten- 
 tous character, indicative of apoplexy; Grierson, 
 who lay in the next crib, had a sweet unconscious, 
 expression on his face, which was, however, scarce 
 in character with his puckered-up mouth and shut 
 eye. 
 
 " That^s your bed, Brady ; that^s yours, Prender- 
 gast. You may lock yourself in to-night. There^s 
 your candle. The first bell will ring at half-past 
 six ; prayers at seven. '^
 
 104 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Mr. Cufife shut the door and retired ; and 
 Maurice and I were left to our meditations. 
 
 '' You^ll have a black eye, Terry/^ said he, '^ from 
 those blackguards/^ 
 
 '' And your mouth is cut, Maurice/' returned I. 
 ^' Let us get to bed, I feel so tired/"' 
 
 As I turned to my box I was aware that Grierson 
 was sitting up in bed, and that Cole had both eyes 
 wide open. 
 
 '' I say, did I hear you call me a blackguard V 
 asked Grierson. 
 
 " Yes,^' returned Maurice, fiercely ; " you or any 
 one who'd attack two strange fellows in the dark 
 like that for nothing.'' 
 
 " Will you be licked to-morrow, or will you have 
 it now ?" asked Master Grierson, with much ear- 
 nestness, getting out of bed as he spoke, and ad- 
 vancing towards Maurice. 
 
 I saw that he was a stout, tall, fair-haired chap, 
 with a flat flabby face, at least an inch taller than 
 Prendergast, and I ran in between them, saying — 
 
 '' No ; you shall not hit him. You are a cur, 
 and if you want to fight you must fight me." 
 
 Master Grierson saw, perhaps, I was a little more 
 of his match, though still a year younger, and some- 
 what lighter than he was.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 105 
 
 " You^re a cocky cub enougli, I daresay. Now 
 then_, ColCj you hide that fellow, and Pll manage 
 this/^ and, squaring his arms, he commenced his 
 preparations for battle. Whilst we were parleying 
 in elegant prelude, Maurice had gone to the door, 
 locked it, put the key in his pocket, and coming 
 alongside me, said — 
 
 " Terry, 1^11 stand by you to the last, and we 
 will give them a thrashing for the honour of Kil- 
 moyle. Now come on." 
 
 His face was dark with passion ; the blood 
 stealing over his lip gave him a savage look ; and 
 Cole, who did not quite understand why he should 
 be called on to break his night's sleep, suggested a 
 basis for negotiations of peace. 
 
 " If you have got anything in your boxes we 
 will let you off,'' he said. " Shan't we. Daddy?" 
 
 " Let us see what the louts have first, and if it's 
 worth taking, we shan't lick them." 
 
 And acting in that spirit, Grierson made a rush 
 at the box which stood beside my bed, and which 
 I had been uncording when he thought fit to rouse 
 up. With a spring I stood before him, and 
 shouted, 
 
 " You musn't touch my things ;" and as I said 
 so, received a blow in the face which sent me
 
 106 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 staggering towards the middle of the room. It 
 was but for a second. I knew nothing of boxing, 
 but I was strong and active, and in the twinkling 
 of an eye my knuckles tingled with the sharp,, 
 quick jar produced by a blow delivered on a bone,, 
 and blood ran from Grierson^s lip. 
 
 I cannot tell what followed. I was aware that Cole 
 and Maurice were engaged in a similar struggle;, 
 whilst Grierson and I pummeled and cuffed each 
 other, and scuffled and wrestled all over the 
 room. 
 
 Chairs were overturned — water-bottles and 
 basins and basin-stands went crashing on the- 
 floor. Like most Irish boys, we were unacquainted 
 with any scientific mode of giving black eyes and 
 bloody noses, but eyes were puffing and swelling, 
 and noses and lips were bleeding on both sides. 
 
 My antagonist was more used to such en- 
 counters j but I had learnt a little of a rude sort of 
 wrestling. I had the advantage, besides, of being 
 dressed, whilst he was in his shirt ; so, whenever we 
 closed, I generally managed to throw him. Once his 
 head came with force against the edge of my box^ 
 and I gasped out — " Do you give in T^ And was 
 answered by a feeble blow in the ribs. Still his 
 strength was failing, and faU after fall brought
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 107 
 
 him nearer to submission ; Maurice and Colo, 
 better matclied^ perhaps^ were whirling in the eddies 
 of combat among the beds and overturned chairs. 
 
 " Let us in to see fair play/^ Gentle knocks and 
 urgent entreaties proclaimed the anxiety of the 
 hoys J who had been aroused by the scuffle, to join 
 in the fray. But we were little inclined to listen 
 to such appeals ! With nostrils distended, fast- 
 closing eyes, dishevelled hair, swollen hands and 
 lips and cheeks, and torn clothes, the only sounds 
 inside the room being our heavy breathing and the 
 thumps of fists, and the knocking about of the 
 scanty furniture, we fought on till a sharp cry 
 escaped from my opponent ; and he exclaimed 
 " Oh, my foot ! my foot V^ He had trodden on a 
 piece of glass. I was terrified. Cole, hastening 
 to his friend, who was sitting on the bed in agony, 
 ran to the door and cried out — 
 
 " Some of you ring the doctor^s bell ; here's 
 Dick Grierson cut his foot open.''' 
 
 I had seen at my grandfather's people brought in 
 with accidents, and in imitation of what I had 
 observed, I poured out water in a basin, tore a 
 strip off one of the shirts in my box, and l)athed 
 the cut ; but the glass was inside, and I could not 
 staunch the wound.
 
 lOS THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Maurice had unlocked the door^ and was stand- 
 ing beside Cole^ watching the fainting boy with 
 terror and pity, when we were aware of a tall 
 man gliding among us ; his white hair flowing 
 over his shoulders from the silver band of a large 
 black velvet cap; his face, round and florid 
 and smooth, animated by an expression full of 
 repose and calmness. His figure was shrouded 
 in a dark velvet dressing-gown ; and although he 
 had not long been roused, Dr. Ball looked as if he 
 were quite ready to sit for his portrait ; his theory, 
 indeed, being, that no one should ever be in such a 
 hurry as not to be able to appear in the utmost 
 propriety of dress. He looked at the scene before 
 him with some kind of curiosity, if not surprise, 
 laid down his candlestick with deliberation, and 
 sitting down on the bed beside Grierson, having 
 previously placed a handkerchief across his own 
 knees, took his leg upon his lap, and examined the 
 cut in silence. Then he put his hand into his breast, 
 drew out a small case, and produced from it a 
 spitefal-looking, shining implement of steel, with 
 which he firmly seized the glass, and by a steady 
 tug, which made the lad utter a bitter cry, pulled 
 it out of the wound. At the doorway were shadowy 
 faces ; a faint murmur came from the passage as the
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 109 
 
 doctor,, selecting another implement fj'om liis case^ 
 passed it to and fro in the fissure. Then with lint 
 from the same inexhaustible case^ and with water 
 and scissors he made a bandage round the 
 wound, placed the limb on the bed, took up 
 his candle, and surveyed us slowly one after the 
 other. 
 
 " Such are the fruits of disobedience — the results 
 of strife and contention," he said at last. ^' If 
 you were the beasts of the field, you could not 
 tear and wound each other more cruelly; but 
 the beasts have none to guide them — you have. 
 They have none to correct them — you shall find 
 that you have. Mr. Cuffe,^' he added, '' stay in 
 this cubicle to-night in one of the spare beds. 
 The surgeon must see Grierson early in the morn- 
 ing.^^ And the tall figure vanished. 
 
 I felt relieved when he went ; and yet I wished 
 he had said something to me. There was a cold 
 displeasure in his eye as he looked into my face, 
 more hard to bear than words. It was a keen 
 reproach to be stared at with such haughty 
 contempt ; and as I looked at my face in the glass, 
 and turned to Maurice, who had got into bed, and 
 had sullenly given his hand to me, I became aware 
 that our first interview with Dr. Ball was not of iv
 
 110 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 nature to impress him in our favour. My eyes 
 were puffed and painful, and my cheeks shining and 
 swelled out with blows; my lips like a negroes. 
 Maurice was not much better ; Cole and Grierson 
 bore similar marks of the fray; and Mr. Cuffe, as 
 he walked round us with his candle, had some 
 reason for saying, " Our mothers would not know 
 us;-'^ though he little understood the significance 
 of his remark in regard to myself. 
 
 Dr. Ball began his college career as a Fellow 
 Commoner and an idler; of a fine person and 
 manner, he associated with the wildest set of his 
 year in days when there were really wild young 
 men in Trinity, and ere it had ceased to be a staid 
 training-school sort of place ; and he di'ank, hunted, 
 and played with the blue bloods of the Irish univer- 
 sit}^, before Oxford and Cambridge came into fashion 
 for Irish students, and such appearances in the world 
 as Swift, Goldsmith, Sterne, and Burke became im- 
 possible. It was supposed old Mick Ball, the linen- 
 merchant, would leave his only son all his money. 
 His son acted on the supposition. One day old Mick 
 called in on him in Botany Bay Square, and found 
 the young gentleman sitting at a well-appointed 
 table. It was twelve o'clock, and old Mr. Mick Ball 
 glowered at the silver on the cloth and the decanter
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. Ill 
 
 of claret,, and the tea things, with a puzzled, dis- 
 contented look. 
 
 '^ Is it breakfast or dinner yer atin, Dinny T' 
 
 "WeU, sir, you see it^s a sort of composition 
 between the two — a snack you would call it in the 
 old time — lunch, let us say. How very well you 
 are looking, to be sure, this morning.'^ 
 
 " Am I, Dinny ? I don^t feel so. Vyq been 
 over to yer chewther^s^"' (Dinny's face slightly moved), 
 *^ and what he tells me isn^t like to make me feel 
 pleasant." 
 
 " Indeed, sir ! Some wars, or rumours of wars. 
 Apprehensions concerning flax, or combinations in 
 the political world affecting linen ? I hope not.^' 
 
 '^^No, Dinny; its rhumers about yerself, an^ its 
 combinations affectin^ my pocket, that thrubbels 
 me. Now listin awhile. The divil an honour 
 yeV tuk since ye inthered. You ought to be a 
 scholar this year, yer chewther tells me. There's 
 young Brophy, of Skinner's Alley, got one, an' is 
 always gettin' honours, and he'll be a Fellow, an' 
 maybe a bishop before he sthops. It's nearer pluckin' 
 you get every time, and fine feathers they'd get off 
 you. Here have I been slavin' an' toilin' an' moilin' 
 early and late up in the office, an' goin' about 
 thinkin' of nothin' but webs and yarns and flax, that
 
 112 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 you might turn out a credit to me an' to the poor 
 mother thafs dead an' gone. I've been proud of 
 seein' you wid the bucks^ tho' you and young 
 Thrimblestone nigh rode over me last week as I 
 was crossing Grafton Street, widout by yer leave, 
 in yer red coats. I've paid all your debts, and 
 given you a fine allowance — an' yer had the best of 
 cattle to ride ; an' all I asked in return was that 
 you'd just get an honour, and do something for the 
 family, like young Plunkett, and lots of others. An' 
 Mr. Nagle says you're as clever as any of them, 
 wid a good head for mathematics and larnin' of 
 all kinds. An' what have you done ? Answer me 
 that ! I'll tell you. Ye'v been givin' the supper 
 parties that's breakin' the hearts of the Dane and 
 Faculty. Ye'v been neglectin' the lecthers and 
 chapels. Ye'v been out wherever there's the sport- 
 in' an' gamblin' goin' on; keepin' dreadful hours. 
 Ye'v been givin' post obits, an' things of that kind, 
 speculatin' on yer father's death. Yer deep in debt 
 to all the money linders in Eustace Street. An* 
 what am I come for now ? — to ask you to sthop in 
 time, an' behave well to me, an' I'll behave well 
 to you." 
 
 ^' My dear father, believe me " 
 
 ^' No j I'll believe nothin' but deeds. Go on as
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 113 
 
 you like — do as you like — but a return for my 
 money out of you I expect_, or you^ll be dis- 
 appointed when Tm gone, Dinny. To show you 
 Fm in earnest Fve brought you these." 
 
 The old man produced a pocket-book of many 
 pockets from an old case. 
 
 ^^ There^s yer acceptance to Mulloy for £200 — 
 paid ; there^s yer account with Hennessy, for horses, 
 £427 16s.— paid ; there's French's account, £180— 
 paid ; there's another of Mulloy's — there's one of 
 Tuke's — here's O'Neale's — there's Dempsey's — a 
 nice lot, 'pon me word — to the valley of £903 paid 
 — that's gettin' on to two thousand pounds, Dinny ; 
 And here's an order on Latouche for £300 for debts 
 1 want to know nothing of. I start you fair, I hope ? 
 And now no speeches. Burn those blaggard papers » 
 Ye'v three months to the next examination, and 
 I expect to hear of you thin. Good-bye. God 
 bless you. Go on and finish yer — breakfast, 
 Dinny. And remimber — ye can't ate yer cake and 
 have it." 
 
 The old man kept his word. On a certain morn- 
 ing in the month of July the Dublin papers con- 
 tained an advertisement : 
 
 '^ Notice. — 1 hereby give notice that I will not 
 be responsible for the debts contracted by my son, 
 
 VOL. I. 8
 
 114 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Dionysius Ball, Undergraduate, Trinity College, the 
 said Dionysius being of full age. — (Signed), M. 
 Ball, Linen Hall, Dublin/^ 
 
 Another notice announced that " M. Ball, linen 
 manufacturer, having retired from business, had 
 made over the whole of his interest in the Bally- 
 vogue and Ballymena mills and factories, and in the 
 stores in Belfast and Dublin, to his nephew, James 
 Grabb, for Avhom he requested the support of his- 
 old connexion/' 
 
 When Mr. Dionysius Ball had arrived near the 
 end of his college course his father died. His will 
 was opened, and it Avas found that, having paid 
 to his son, and on his account, the sum of 
 £11,703 10s. 6d., he, Michael Ball, bequeathed 
 to him the sum of =€3966 9s. 6d., to complete his 
 education in college, and left the rest of his 
 estate to his wife's relations. 
 
 Dionysius Ball set to work ; but it was too late. 
 One day a feeble man, nearly blind from study, was 
 led in, with a shade over his eyes, to the Hall in 
 which the Fellowship Examinations are held, and 
 more than usual interest was evinced, as it 
 became known that '^ Dandy Ball was going in 
 for a Fellowship." There were five competitors 
 for the golden prize. Dandy Ball was second.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 115 
 
 Again and again lie tried ; always some more 
 brilliant scholar or riper student stood just above 
 him. The examiners^ touched by his perseverance, 
 would have gladly seen him win, but it was not to 
 be. After four great efforts he resigned him- 
 self to his fate, and became a " grinder/'' and even- 
 tually a schoolmaster, having taken out his degree in 
 laws. He was distinguished for a melancholy gravity, 
 stately manners, and elegance of dress which 
 seemed out of place in a Dublin dominie. His 
 sole pleasure was found, strangely enough, in assi- 
 duous devotion to his pupils, in the study of 
 mathematical problems, and in preparing editions 
 of the classics, more remarkable for fine type, paper, 
 and binding, than for great learning or inge- 
 nuity. He had a small living, and refreshed himself 
 on Sunday by preaching highly ornate and polished 
 sermons, which principally dealt with the theories 
 of heathen philosophers, and showed their general 
 inferiority to the Christian scheme in their relations, 
 to life on earth. 
 
 " An^ so you^^e been fightin^ already, and have 
 bet Grierson and Cole secundus,^'' said Larry, as 
 he brought in our shoes, and roused us in the 
 morning. '^ Faix, purty black eyes as ever Vyq 
 seed at Donnybrook ! It's a nate beginnin' you've 
 
 8—2
 
 116 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 med, Prendergast and Brady. Hurry on, and 
 dhress. Dr. Ball wants to see you afore prayers, 
 and thin you%^e to sthay up here till yer eyes goes 
 out of mourning. Mister Grierson, Fm to have you 
 removed to the Sick Ward, and Cole's to shift to 
 No. 8 crib, next dure.^^ 
 
 '^ It is a bad beginning indeed, Maurice,^^ I mut- 
 tered, as we stood, afraid to knock, outside the 
 door to which we had been shown. "Do you 
 think he'll flog us V 
 
 ''Not if he's just. The two big bullies above 
 should get it if any one. I donH intend to be 
 touched, I can tell you.'' As we spoke, the door 
 was opened from the inside, and the Doctor stood 
 before us ; the black velvet cap still on his head, 
 for in my day trencher caps were never used out 
 of college, and a sort of black silk cassock, 
 with upright collar, fitting very tight, fastened 
 round the waist by a band, and coming down so 
 low as only to show the buckles of his shoes, gave 
 him the air of some mediseval ecclesiastic — and the 
 similitude was increased by the flowing white hair, 
 and the snowy turned-over collar and cuff's, which 
 contrasted with his sombre dress. 
 
 '^ Come in, Terence Brady and Maurice Prender- 
 gast." We stood in the Sanctum and the Inferno—
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 117 
 
 at once the place of rewards and of punishments — the 
 Doctor's study : a wilderness of books — the neat- 
 ness of his person was by no means indicative of habits 
 of order — with books on shelves, books on chairs, on 
 tables, on the carpet, on the chimney-piece. He drew 
 up with his back to the fire, one hand on his hip, the 
 other outstretched, with the finger pointed to me. 
 " Now, Terence Brady, as you are the elder, give me 
 an account of the manner in which the proceedings 
 of last night began. I will not say it is your interest 
 to tell the truth, for I would not appeal to a base 
 motive when you stand in my presence. ^^ I told him 
 the truth. As I spoke, he listened attentively, 
 and turned his eyes from me to Maurice, and never 
 asked a question till the close, and then he said — 
 " Brady, do you forgive the boy who began this 
 trouble freely and fully from your heart V 
 
 '' I do, sir.'' 
 
 " Prendergast, I ask you the same question ?" 
 
 Maurice hesitated. He looked down and was- 
 silent. 
 
 '^ It is not necessary for you to answer me. I 
 regret you still feel enmity to Cole; depend on 
 it you would be happier if you could say as your 
 friend has done. You may go." 
 
 If any dreamer cherishes visions of Utopia as
 
 118 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 possible realities^ let him remember what his life 
 was at a school, and cease to hope. Who can 
 withstand the tyranny of that oligarchy which 
 arises in the little republic, and which has ever 
 a despot of its own? For two years my life was 
 as bearable, in virtue of my prowess on the 
 night of my arrival, as the duresse of attendance 
 and compulsory learning could make it. I was 
 chosen into the upper twenty for our hurling 
 matches after one or two hard fights. Daddy Grier- 
 son, the very first day he came into the green where 
 we played, pale and limping as he was, shook hands 
 with me coram publico, and declared — " Brady is 
 one of the old stock. The Doctor told me he took 
 all the blame on himself.^^ My reputation was made 
 by the stories which had gone abroad over the 
 school, for Grierson was one of the Ajaxes of the 
 field. Maurice Prendergast did not fare so well. He 
 had refased to make it up with Cole, and the result 
 was a pitched battle, in which Maurice got rather the 
 worst of it, and he was unfortunate enough to appear 
 as if he did not accept the public judgment with 
 good grace. Dr. Ball heard of the encounter, 
 and in ordering him and his antagonist punish- 
 ment, publicly expressed his regret that one of 
 his boys exhibited such vindictiveness.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 119 
 
 Maurice had in him some unhappy knack of 
 thinking everything which occurred in the world of 
 an unpleasant nature was specially ordered with 
 reference to himself — that all around were plot- 
 ting to do him mischief — that he alone was singled 
 out for annoyance^ and perchance for punishment- 
 His spirit was dark and moody. He had lis- 
 tened at home to old stories about the greatness 
 of the family of Prendergast in the time of Strong- 
 bow, till he believed their present poverty was the 
 result of a great conspiracy on the part of King, 
 Lords, and Commons ; and he was continually re- 
 volving schemes in his head for their restoration to 
 the lordship of barbarously-named regions which 
 had long since merged into baronies and counties. 
 The mind of the boy, in fact, was warped by this 
 one idea — that he was the victim of wrong and in- 
 justice ; and as he was of a studious turn, and read 
 more than most boys of his years, turning his 
 attention to what may be called the fabulous his- 
 tory of Ireland, and swallowing without hesitation 
 the preparations of the annalists and national his- 
 torians who doctor facts or invent nostrums to suit 
 their theories, he became an eager politician. 
 
 There were Repealers and Reformers in those 
 days. Dr. BalFs was an eminently Protestant
 
 120 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 academy^ and Maurice Prendergast chose to avow 
 himself a Repealer and a Reformer^ and to stand 
 in a minority of one. You know what the toleration 
 of a school is. It is there that the philosopher 
 may study the way in which the will of a majority, 
 without checks, becomes a cruel despotism. Mau- 
 rice clung to his faith, and took a gloomy delight 
 in suffering persecution, which was moral rather 
 than physical. There is no misery so great as 
 to burn with the love of country which is treason 
 — to be possessed with the patriotism of a broken 
 nationality, which is sustained by dreams, and 
 visions, and hopes — lives and dies again till the 
 end, whatever that may be — extinction and 
 oblivion — or resurrection. Maurice believed that 
 petitions, and public meetings, and processions 
 of ill-clad citizens, with bad bands and worse 
 banners, would induce the British Government 
 to restore a native legislature to Ireland. He 
 wore a green riband in his cap, and gilt buttons, 
 with a harp and crown, and the device of 
 Repeal, on his coat. He read immense quantities 
 of speeches, and learnt whole Iliads of national 
 poetry, and was looked on as a vulgar mal- 
 content, who must be a rebel at heart, as well 
 as a Papist. He was cut out of our games, and
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 121 
 
 placed under a proscription, which he resented 
 by aggressive war whenever he got a chance. 
 It was with difficulty I could keep on good 
 terms with him because I would not join him in 
 ostracising the whole school; but at night, ere 
 we closed oui- eyes, we were generally good 
 friends again. I pitied him greatly, for often 
 and often I heard his suppressed sobbing, and 
 his cries in his sleep, and knew how much he en- 
 dured in his gloomy spirit. 
 
 I had my own sorrows. There was for ever, when 
 I was alone, no thought but that one wearing, 
 wearying solicitude that was the morbid centre 
 around which all my future plans were woven. I had 
 a faith that my mother lived. The more I reasoned 
 on the subject, the greater seemed the improbability 
 — the larger and firmer grew the faith. I had of 
 course given up all idea of taking the picture to 
 Dublin the moment I had seen my room and un- 
 derstood the nature of boys at school ; but every 
 trait was preserved in my memory, and I made 
 endless efforts to put them on paper, destroying the 
 scraps as fast as I drew them. I grew strong 
 and tall, was famous at hurling, football, and 
 prison-bar, which are the substitutes for cricket. 
 On my half-holidays I went up the little stream
 
 122 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 which passed the school-gates on its way from the 
 mountains to Dublin Bay. Faithful to my early 
 lovC;, I fished away till night approached^ returning, 
 happy, but foot-sore, with my creel pretty well 
 stocked with trout, which the Doctor used to take 
 tithe of for his Sunday morning^s breakfast ere he 
 proceeded to his church, a quarter of an hour in 
 advance of the column led by Mr. Cuffe, and closed 
 by the rear-guard under Monsieur Leboeuf. Some- 
 times Maurice came with me; but he was so 
 immersed in his ridiculous books that he was not 
 much of a companion. Besides, he was always 
 fancying that the boys he met intended to affront 
 him, and was getting into endless rows, in which 
 black eyes and bloody noses were ingredients ; and 
 if he took to fishing, it was in a passionate spirit, 
 quite unsuited to the contemplative man^s recrea- 
 tion. If the fish were rising, he was in the 
 ^greatest spirits. The little ones went flourishing 
 in the air over his head, coming down far behind 
 him on the stones with a whack which left them 
 hardly time to shiver ere they died : the big ones, 
 not numerous, carried away gut or flies, or broke 
 tops, or lost then' snouts — rarely were they landed ; 
 and when Maurice executed a feat of this kind he 
 hopped and jumped about with rage. When an
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 123 
 
 east wind^ or a general indigestion^ or some mys- 
 terious agency only known to fishes, kept them 
 with their heads below the surface, Maurice, after a 
 few impatient casts — well thrown and fine for the 
 matter of that — would put up his rod in dudgeon, 
 swear there was no use in trying any more, and 
 be greatly surprised when he found my creel 
 pretty full at night. So I was often left alone in 
 my excursions into the mountain valley, where the 
 little stream became a succession of pools of dark 
 peat-coloured water, swarming with tiny hungry 
 trout. Latterly I often met a broad, stout man, 
 of some thirty or five-and-thirty years of age, fish- 
 ing with more perseverance than success. He had 
 a swarthy, sunburnt visage, black whiskers and 
 eyes, shining white teeth, and a pleasant look and 
 smile — so frank and kindly, that at last I ventured 
 to fish in the pools below him, and to take the 
 liberty of crossing behind and going above him 
 when I saw he took no notice. And then we got 
 on nodding terms. 
 
 I was quite glad to hear his cheery voice, although 
 it was only — " Hullo ! youngster ; and so here you 
 are again. We wont leave a trout in the river 
 between us, though I know who'll take most of 
 them.''
 
 124 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 And his laugh -vvas delightful as he compared his 
 basket with mine after a while. "Well done, 
 youngster ! Two dozen and three. And a couple 
 of whoppers ! Just see what V\e done — only- 
 seven. But Fm getting on — I^m getting on, and 
 Vl\ beat you at last.^^ 
 
 I showed him my flies, and told him what 
 I thought hindered him from being a great angler : 
 he would persist in standing close to the banks,, 
 and hopping about from stone to stone, like 
 an ouzel. His delight was great when one day 
 he succeeded in hooking and killing a two-pounder 
 at the tail of a dam. " Dash my wig ! but you are 
 right. IVe been trying for that fellow ever since 
 I began at this work, and only for you Vd never 
 have caught him. IsnH he a beauty ? Talk of 
 dolphins — stuff! There^s colour for you — there^s 
 speckled sides. I wouldn^t take ten gold mohurs 
 for him this moment. ^^ 
 
 The word "mohur^^ struck me at once. I had 
 heard it often from Mohun. " Were you ever in 
 India, sir ?" I asked. 
 
 " Yes, my lad. That is, Vve been cruising about 
 in the Indian Ocean — served on the station some 
 time; but beyond a day or two at Madras and at 
 Qalle, a sail up the Hooghly, and a short time
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 125 
 
 at Calcutta, I can't say I know much of the 
 land/^ 
 
 " Did you ever know Captain Brady out there, 
 sir?^' 
 
 " Brady ! Brady ! What was he, a soldier or a 
 sailor T' 
 
 " Oh, sir, my father was a gentleman : Captain 
 Brady, of the King^s Own Regiment,^^ said I, 
 offended at the idea of its being supposed he was a 
 sailor. 
 
 *' Faith, I beg your pardon ; I forgot our profes- 
 sion is not thought much of in these parts. And 
 so your name's Brady, is it ? And you're at school 
 near here, learning your propria quce maribus — 
 ^ things proper to the seas/ as I translated it, and 
 got a hiding — eh ? Where is it V 
 
 " I am at Dr. Ball's, of Hume Grove." 
 
 " Are you going to be a soldier, like your father ?" 
 
 " I don't know, sir. I should like to be 
 a soldier, but my grandfather will not hear 
 of it." 
 
 " Grandfather wont hear of it ? Rich old codger — 
 must have his way. And what does your governor 
 say of it, eh ?" 
 
 ^' My father is dead ; he died in India several 
 years ago, when I was but a baby."
 
 126 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 '^ And of course mamma sides with grandpapa — 
 does she?^^ 
 
 '' I cannot say^ sir. I have not seen my mother. 
 It is supposed she is dead ; but I don't think so." 
 
 We had been walking along as we talked ; but 
 as I uttered these words my interlocutor turned 
 round briskly^ with a look of surprise on his 
 honest brown face. " Say that again^ till I just 
 get its bearings. You haven^t seen your mother, 
 and it is supposed she is dead, but you don^t think 
 so ! That's a rum sort of thing to say, my lad.''^ 
 
 '^ Well, it is true, sir. They all believe mamma 
 was drowned coming home from India; but I feel — 
 I feel it here,'^ I said, laying my hand on my heart — 
 ^^ that I shall see her, and that she is alive.'''' 
 
 ^' Dash my wig. Master Brady, l^ut you are 
 puzzling me. And so,''' he added, with a look of 
 softness in his big round eyes, " you don't like to 
 believe your mother is down among — hem — I mean 
 is drowned? Why so, if everyone else says she 
 was?" 
 
 " Because no one can be sure of it. When the 
 ship struck she was washed off with ever so many 
 others, and they say she was lost. But the ship 
 was near an island — near Les Basses rocks, off the 
 coast of Ceylon."
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 127 
 
 ^^ And the ship^s name was ?" 
 
 '' The Ross-shire Indiaman/^ 
 
 The angler struck the butt of his rod against the 
 ground and whistled out a prolonged whew-w-w, 
 and repeated my words — " The Ross-shire ! The 
 Basses ! Why^ to be sure ! to be sure ! I remem- 
 ber it w^ell. I was lying in Galle at the time in 
 the Calypso y on my first long cruise^ and saw her 
 come in after she was got off by the skipper. They 
 made a jolly fuss about his getting her off. He 
 ought to have been reprimanded for getting her on, 
 say I. And Mrs. Brady — the beautiful Mrs. Brady — 
 was your mother, my poor lad? How very, very 
 odd to meet you here V 
 
 My heart was beating so that I could hear it like 
 the wheel of the mill close at hand. " Oh dear, 
 dear sir, did you ever see my mamma V 
 
 " No,^-* he answered, shortly, " never — often heard 
 of her. But if that Brady was your father I re- 
 member him well when he w^as a sub. at Malta and 
 I was a middy ; and a better fellow never lived — for a 
 soldier, no better. I heard of his marriage, of his 
 death, and of his wife^s being drowned from the 
 Ross-shire, and I remember well hearing that their 
 infant was on board — wretched little beggar — on his 
 way to Ireland. Oh Lord, to think I should meet
 
 128 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 you this way, on the banks of the Dodder, in this 
 confounded country/^ He looked at me so kindly, 
 I took his hand and pressed it, and the honest 
 fellow returned the pressure with a gripe of irresis- 
 tible vigour. '^ Here,^' cried he, " sit down on this 
 bank, and let us talk about everything. It is so 
 very odd to think how things come about. I wish 
 I could recollect all I heard about Brady and his 
 wife. There were lots of stories ; but that^s of no 
 consequence. The strange thing is you should per- 
 sist in it that she^s alive, my boy ; as if it would be 
 any advantage to you if she were, by all accounts. 
 Mj belief is that she^s just as dead — as dead," he 
 said, taking up a pebble and throwing it into the 
 pool at our feet, " as that stone." 
 
 I said nothing, but sat looking into the bright 
 stream. 
 
 " I tell you what, my lad," he continued, '^ you 
 go moping about by yourself too much. 1^11 ask 
 your master to let me give you a cruise now and 
 then in the Bay. Wouldn't that be jolly ! My name 
 is Window ; any fellow can see through me, they say, 
 and I command the Merlin cutter for my sins — a 
 revenue cruiser, if you know what that means. Here, 
 take this card to your schoolmaster, and tell him I 
 will call on him to ask leave to take you out now
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 129 
 
 and then — from Saturday till Monday, you see. 
 "We have prayers on board on Sundays — capital 
 chaplain ; read service myself; and we^ll have a 
 run down to Wicklow and back, if you like." 
 
 On the card was "Lieutenant John Window, 
 R.N., H.M.C. Merlin:' I knew nothing of the 
 sea ; I could indeed see the blue waters of the Bay 
 from my bedroom window, and the white sails of 
 the ships as they slid along from one headland to 
 the other. Oftentimes I noted the trails of smoke 
 from the packets and watched the funnels and masts 
 as they came in sight from behind trees and chim- 
 neys; but of the sea itself I had a secret, subtle 
 terror. I remembered little of my early voyage. 
 But the impressions of its force, its cruelty, its ir- 
 responsible power, its sullen anger and destroying 
 rage, were derived somehow from the very be- 
 ginning of my existence, and were mingled with 
 a sort of antipathy to a thing which had done 
 me irreparable wrong. However, the love of ad- 
 ventures such as this, and the getting away from 
 school, were very strong inducements to say 
 "yes," and I expressed my thanks to Lieutenant 
 Window, R.N., for his kindness. 
 
 " And now," said he, " I must be off. I have to 
 walk across to the coast near Bray, and I don't want 
 
 VOL. I. 9
 
 130 ADVENTURES OF DOCTOR BRADY. 
 
 to run out my daylight. I will call soon on old 
 Ball and get leave for you. Good-bye, my lad ; 
 you had better top your boom and make sail too.^* 
 And with a smile which showed his white teeth the 
 sailor turned from the stream, putting up his rod 
 as he went, and was soon making his way with 
 light and active step up the hill- side towards the 
 Three Rock mountain. My path lay towards 
 Dublin, in the outskirts of which the school was 
 situated ; and as I trudged back my mind was full 
 of questions which were to be put to my new ac- 
 quaintance at our next meeting.
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 THE CRUISE, 
 
 I HAD not long to wait. The next week saw tlie 
 beginning of tlie short vacation at Easter, and my 
 grandfather had written to say he thought, as the 
 old house was under repair, and the typhus was 
 very bad in the district, I had better stay at Dr. 
 BalFs. " There is no one at the Castle,^^ he added, 
 " and you will have your friend Maurice to keep 
 you company at all events for your week^s holi- 
 day." 
 
 I was in our cubicle, arranging my flies for a grand 
 excursion which was to last two days, and IMaurice 
 was packing up hard-boiled eggs, a pot of jam, and 
 other luxuries, when the servant informed me, " The 
 Doctor wants you, Masther Brady.^^ It was rarely 
 we were summoned to the presence, and I scarcely 
 needed the addition, " I think yer goin' off some- 
 where, and maybe I'd best get ready yer duds, for 
 
 9—z
 
 132 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 there^s a gintilman on a kyar has come;, and 
 they^re waiting below/' 
 
 When I entered the study the pleasant face of 
 the Lieutenant greeted me. But instead of his 
 fishing suit he had on an undress uniform^ and a 
 cap with a gold band in his hand, and looked very 
 smart. Dr. Ball and he had been engaged in 
 looking over the large globe, on which the latter 
 was pointing the course of some voyage in distant 
 seas, and the former was in great good humour, 
 for he had had an opportunity of astonishing his 
 visitor by the accuracy of his knowledge. 
 
 " So, Brady, you have met a friend of your 
 father's. I am always glad to promote the educa- 
 tion of the gentlemen in my establishment by 
 favouring their intercourse with persons who are 
 able to improve their minds and cultivate their in- 
 tellects — above all with such enlightened travellers 
 as Mr. Window, a member of a glorious profession, 
 to which England owes so much of its greatness'' — 
 here the Doctor bowed, and looked as if he had 
 enunciated some striking and novel proposition — 
 " therefore," he continued, with more dignity, " I 
 have yielded to Captain " 
 
 " Only Lieutenant, if you please. Dr. Ball," in- 
 terrupted Window, with a laugh.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 133 
 
 '' I do not please,, sir — I think you onglit to be 
 Captain Window ; but I admit the propriety of your 
 objecting to the use of a designation which were 
 yours already had services such as we are discussing 
 been duly recognised. Pardon the remark; I was 
 saying, Brady, that I have yielded to Lieutenant 
 Window^s representations, and have permitted you 
 to go from beneath my tutelage, in order that he may 
 take you on a short marine excursion and impart to 
 you some rudimentary instruction in the art of 
 navigation/' 
 
 '' Nay, Doctor, I'm not quite sure T can promise 
 to do much in that way. You see, when Fm on 
 board Fve a good deal to do, though I have no 
 company ; and fresh air, plain, Avholesome food, and 
 a little change, are all I can promise our young 
 friend, though he may study ' Norie' if he likes. 
 We must look pretty sharp,'' he added, looking at 
 Ms watch; "the boat is waiting for us at the 
 Pigeon House, and the cutter is inside the Wall 
 lying-to till we come. The tide's running out, and 
 if she has to go outside we may have a long row, 
 and get wet jackets, for there's been a fresh breeze 
 from the southward, and the sea's not quite gone 
 down." 
 
 The Doctor waved his hand, and in a few minutes
 
 1^4 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 I was seated on the car beside Lieutenant Window 
 rattling over the road to Ringsend, at the speed 
 which a Dublin jarvey always considers due to an 
 " officer/' 
 
 There is ever something or other of acid 
 in the cup of our pleasures : mine was flavoured 
 by a drop distilled from Maurice's eyes. As I 
 hurriedly told him of my little voyage, he looked 
 up from his haversack with a face full of mortifica- 
 tion, and said, " I thought so. You might have 
 told me of this before. Just as I am ready for the 
 only little days' pleasure I have had since I came 
 to this horrid place, and was going to see what I was 
 longing for, the Round Tower and all, you throw 
 me over. I can go with no one else. There." 
 He took up his bag and dashed it against the 
 wall, bursting into tears as he spoke, whilst the 
 blood-red stains of the cherry cordial and the 
 jam on the surbase proclaimed the ruin he had 
 made. 
 
 I set ofi*, wondering whether I was not really a 
 selfish fellow to disappoint Maurice, and full of 
 regrets for the jam and cherry cordial. 
 
 *' Yes, my lad, there tvill be a little swell on when 
 we get into the Bay, but the wind is light, and 
 we'll take a run down towards the Arklow Banks.
 
 DOCTOR BPwADY. 135 
 
 and maybe we^ll show you some of your favourite 
 sport on a large scale." 
 
 " Are there any whales^ sir ?" quoth I^, eagerly. 
 ^' There are British whales, I know, and I don''t see 
 why they should not come to Ireland, too."^ 
 
 " Whales ? No, my lad ; at least, not to catch. 
 If British whales were wise, they^d keep away from 
 these waters ; but there are more sharks than T like — • 
 smugglers, in fact. There is a confounded schooner 
 we have heard of, which has run a whole cargo of 
 Yankee tobacco and French brandy lately, be- 
 tween Arklow and this. Stubbs, who had the 
 cutter before me, was removed for that same, and 
 I^m put here to prevent the same occurring again. 
 Hope I may, but can^t be sure.''' 
 
 The car rattled along the South Wall, drove 
 slowly over the Pigeon-house Fort bridge, and I was 
 aroused from my survey of what seemed to me the 
 bustling river, filled with craft running down with 
 the tide for sea, by a — '' Look sharp, my lad 1 
 here we are. Take these traps, Robert, and stow 
 them away in the gig.^^ Led by Lieutenant 
 Window down the slippery causeway, I took my 
 place where I was told, in. the stern of the boat, 
 which was a marvel of whiteness and brightness in 
 wood, and paint, and brass, in my eyes. The crew^
 
 136 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 ■with their clean shirts and snowy trowsers, were 
 in keeping with the boat. As the Lieutenant said 
 — " Now, give way there \" there was a tone in 
 his voice I had never heard before, not near so 
 pleasant and so soft. ^' There, Brady — or, if you^ll 
 let me, Terry — there^s the Merlin. How do you 
 like her ?^^ 
 
 Alas ! how full life is of disappointment. I 
 had had more than my share that week. Of all 
 created things, it appeared to me the elephant 
 and the lion must be the grandest : the size and 
 sagacity of the first, the port and courage of the 
 latter, excited my admiration. I had pored 
 over the '' Wild Sports of the West," and travels, 
 and natural history, and had formed ideals in 
 my mind, with the help of plates and illustra- 
 tions, which turned out to be pure illusions the 
 moment I paid my sixpence and entered Womb- 
 welFs travelling menagerie. That scrubby, wrin- 
 kled, shapeless beast, without any tusks, and with 
 a flabby proboscis, not much taller than our bull 
 *'K;Ogueen!" — that lank- sided, overgrown cat, with 
 a ragged felt of hair over his shoulders, crouching 
 at the sight of the keeper^s iron rod ! — that 
 an elephant ! — that a tiger ! — these were bitter 
 things to see and bear ! And now there came
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 137 
 
 another shock. My grandfather had once made 
 a voyage on board a transport, forming one 
 of a fleet nnder a small convoy which was at- 
 tacked by the French off Ushant. I had often 
 listened to his account of the action, in which not 
 •only the men-of-war but the transports behaved so 
 well, that they beat off the enemy, and took 
 Le Grand Conde, of seventy- two guns. A print to 
 commemorate the feat hung in the dining-room, 
 and I had spent many an hour admiring the bulk 
 of the vessel, crowded with troops, and of the line- 
 of-battle ships blazing into each other from their wall- 
 like sides. A man-of-war, to my mind, was a 
 floating castle, with banners and streamers, and 
 figure-heads and stern-galleries — like those in the 
 print, and in the pictures of ^^ sea fights,''^ by the 
 Dutch painters, in the gallery at the Castle — tower- 
 ing above the waters, with rows of ports and grin- 
 ning cannon-mouths. And now, as I looked in a 
 line with Window's forefinger, I doubted my 
 •senses as I beheld a craft, the size of a fishing- 
 smack, as I thought, about a mile away from 
 us, with foresail aback, and mainsail loose, which 
 lay rising and falling on the swell, and showing 
 us at every rise the sheen of her burnished copper. 
 " Well, and what do you think her, my lad ?"
 
 138 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 '' Isn^t she very little^ sir T^ I faltered out. 
 
 '' Little ? Why she^s the largest cutter in the 
 service, my boy ; one hundred and ninety tons, 
 and as good as ever was built. Wait till you get 
 on board. Feel at all queer, my boy ?" 
 
 The expression of my face referred to my 
 disappointment at the size of H.M.C. Merlin j 
 rather than any other internal discomfort. When 
 I stood on the broad, white deck, and looked at the 
 huge mast, and the ponderous boom, I was somewhat 
 comforted, and my peace was perfectly restored when, 
 after an inspection of my cabin, which was a miracle 
 of contrivances and neatness, I patted the long 
 eighteen-pounder forward, and caressed the carron- 
 ades which formed the broadside guns of the little 
 craft. In a few moments more the uneasy sensation, 
 and the motion which obliged me to catch hold of 
 ropes, or gripe Window^s brawny fist, was exchanged 
 for a buoyant, gliding feeling, as the Merli?i, 
 clothed in her whole suit of snowy sails, careened 
 over, and bowled past the Light-house with a fair 
 breeze on the quarter. It was glorious ! To watch 
 the land recede, and the hills, in whose recesses 
 glided my little trout stream, grow less — the Light- 
 house and the long low wall extending into the sea, 
 run by us, and the smoke over Dublin, become
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 139 
 
 fainter — to skim past tlie laborious colliers and 
 fishing- smacks — and then, as we slipped by the 
 many-coloured Hill of Howtb, and stood towards 
 the souths to gaze on new scenes opening, and the 
 expanse of sea growing wider still. Glorious, 
 too, to see the green waves, with their creamy 
 tops_, coming on to meet us, like an army in 
 battle array flouting its banners ! glorious to drive 
 them into confused flight of spray and water, 
 and rush on to fresh encounters with the vic- 
 torious cheering of the wind through our sails. 
 Oh ! terrible sea, you conquer in the end : beaten 
 in the skirmish, you are dreadful and pitiless in the 
 shock of battle. 
 
 ^^^Pon my word, Terry, you^ll make as good 
 a sailor as any of us. How do you like it 
 now r 
 
 ^' It^s delightful,, sir ; Fm so thankful to you. 
 Only for this, I would have hated the sea, and 
 feared it too.^^ 
 
 " Well, this is fine-weather sailing, my boy ; and 
 I hope we'll have no worse, for your sake. Come 
 down to dinner — it^s ready now, and you ought to 
 be ready for it. Mind your head. Mr. Tiller, 
 here's a young friend. Master Brady, who is going 
 to take a cruise with us, and you must give him
 
 140 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 fine weather^ for we arc going to have a great haul 
 of fishes/' 
 
 Mr. Tiller, and his chief, and I, had a most de- 
 lightful afternoon. There was beautiful soup — 
 quite different from Mother Murphy's preparations 
 at Dr. Ball's — but it was not so much the excel- 
 lence of the soup, as the difficulty of getting it to 
 the mouth, which commended itself to me. There 
 w as a Dublin Bay haddock, boiled chicken and bacon, 
 salt beef, and a roly-poly pudding ; and then there 
 were Tiller's anecdotes of artful smugglers, and more 
 artful revenue-men, iu which there was very little 
 bloodshed and a great deal of glory, set off by 
 Tiller in language which was evidently deprived of 
 a natural garniture of an imprecatory nature by 
 the presence of " Captain Window." Up on deck, 
 afterwards, it was of never-ending interest to look 
 through the glass, as soon as I had learned to use 
 it, at the objects on shore, and to pry into the 
 crannies of the Wicklow mountains, to watch the 
 people on the beach, to study the towns and 
 villages, to observe the signals to the cutter from 
 the coastguard stations, and to see our mute 
 speech fluttering up and down as the old quarter- 
 master spelt out the messages and prepared the 
 answers. I went to bed at night, swaying on my
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 141 
 
 knees by the side of my cot as I prayed for those 
 at home_, and in the depths of my heart breathed 
 the supplication that Heaven wonld preserve me 
 till I could penetrate the mystery of my life^ and 
 fill the aching void in my heart. 
 
 It was a strange troubled sleep into which I 
 fell. It seemed as though I were awake, and that 
 the vessel gradually grew in height and breadth as 
 she ploughed through the seas, which swelled 
 higher and higher, and rose over her deck, till at 
 last the beating waves rushed over us like moun- 
 tains, but could not keep the Merlin in their power. 
 The sound of the sea as it swished by my pillow, 
 separated from the power of death by a few planks, 
 was filled, 1 thought, with voices of crying and 
 lamenting. Looking out into the green depth, 
 I saw there were myriads of people floating in the 
 sea, and holding up their hands in supplication. 
 The waves were crowded with infinite multitudes 
 in white, wafted to and fro in the currents, 
 amid which long seaweeds were waving, and 
 monsters of awful form passed on their way in 
 and out of profound caves in the earth. j\Iany 
 of these ghastly creatures, clutching tlie ship 
 as she passed, clomb over her sides and got 
 upon the deck, where they sat huddled to-
 
 142 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 gether. Some came down into the cabin and 
 sat by our little fire. I could not make out 
 their faces they were so white and expressionless_, 
 shifting in feature and in colour every moment. 
 But at last Mohun came down, shivering and wet, 
 and by his side was a tall form swathed in snowy 
 drapery. He pointed to me. My heart gave one 
 great throb, ceased to beat, then struck the 
 -sides of its prison with mighty blows. The veiled 
 woman came towards me, and, as I struggled to rise, 
 she lifted her veil, stretched out her arms — ah ! that 
 lovely face ! — " Mother ! mother darling V' I cried, 
 and leaped from my cot to meet her; but at the 
 instant the vessel shook as though she would split. 
 I was thrown on my face, and a deluge of water 
 flooded the little cabin. 
 
 " Make fast the deadlights,^^ shouted Window 
 from the top of the companion. As I got to my 
 feet he came towards the door, with the rays of 
 the lamp shining on his tarpaulin hat, in a thick 
 pea-jacket, on which beads of spray sparkled like 
 diamonds, his whiskers heavy with moisture. 
 
 " Don-'t be frightened, Terry, my boy,^' said 
 he, seeing me in my shirt ; '' go to your blankets 
 again, and to sleep, if you can. But hold on 
 tight by your eyebrows. We are in for a blow ;
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 143 
 
 the glass has gone down like a shot^ and while 
 we were shortening sail the cutter took in a 
 little more water than we wanted. But she^s all 
 snug now, and if you like to see what a good 
 sou'-wester can do in the Irish Channel on a short 
 notice, I have no doubt we^ll be able to oblige you. 
 Good night, my lad. Stea-dy — ah ! There now, 
 in you go — good night .^^ 
 
 Instead of taking easy and rather short dips into 
 the water as she had done, the Merlin was now in 
 for very long plunges and very high flights. I 
 watched from my cot the pier-glass over the little 
 fireplace in the cabin rising higher and higher, till 
 it seemed to be trying to stand over me. Then the 
 glass stood still for a part of a second, as if to 
 make up its mind what to do, and abandoning the 
 effort to mount higher, began to slide downwards, 
 sinking faster and faster, till I could look uj^on it 
 at my feet. Then a determination to try again, set 
 the polished surface and the lamp which was re- 
 flected in the centre on the ascent once more. 
 
 I watched and listened to the dull roar of the 
 waters, and the soughing of the wind mingled with 
 the thud of feet, till I fell asleep, and slept on amid 
 the storm. A hand on my shoulder woke mc, and 
 Jack Window's big bright eyes and ever-genial smile
 
 144 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 glanced in on me. He was still shiny with wet oil- 
 skins, and dripping beard and boots as before; and 
 as he swayed to and fro, it was easy to see the 
 Merlin was yet hawking up and down in the seaway 
 after her unknown prey. 
 
 " By Jove, Terry, you're a trump,'' he exclaimed ; 
 ^' Vm. so glad you've stood it all so well. It has 
 been a snorter, and it's not over yet j but the glass 
 is rising a little, and it's shifting now to the west, 
 so we'll have it off the land, and it can't do us 
 any harm. I needn't ask you how you've slept. 
 I had a few peeps at you after the capsize you 
 got, and you're a credit to Dr. Ball and the 
 Seven Sleepers. And now it's time to rouse out 
 and get breakfast. The steward has got out your 
 oldest clothes, and I've got some tarpaulins for 
 you in case you'd like to look at what's going on 
 outside presently." 
 
 *^ And did you get up to look at me ? How very 
 kind you are, Mr. Window. I am quite ashamed 
 to give you this trouble." 
 
 " Up ! my boy. Why, do you think I could 
 turn in such a night? No; that's the worst 
 of it in a small craft like this. No relief for me. 
 The captain here is his own first luff", keeps his own 
 watch and every one else's. It's a bad place to
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 145 
 
 lie- to in. No end of great hulking Yankee liners 
 and East and West Indians running up with 
 such a good wind for Liverpool, not caring a 
 dump what they run over. Not to talk of Irish 
 pig-boats and rascally steamers from and to all 
 parts of the world. Fll get a good snooze pre- 
 sently; and when you^re all right we^ll have our 
 breakfast.^^ 
 
 When I put my head above the companion, my 
 first impulse was to rush back to the cabin instantly. 
 A vast pile of water coming towards the little vessel 
 shut out all the sea beside, and left only visible a 
 grey sky, against which its broken fringe, crowned 
 with seething foam, stood out sharp and distinct, as, 
 like some hill-side green and steep, it appeared to 
 roll down on the cutter. But the good sea bird, 
 just dipping her beak into its base, fanning her tiny 
 wing of canvas, mounted the steep side — up, and up, 
 till she rode midst the hissing foam, and then 
 balancing herself with a slight shiver, and a heave 
 forward, as though she were about to leave the 
 sea, swooped down the other side of the billow, 
 eager to meet its fellow fast following in its course. 
 It was scarcely possible to believe I was on board 
 the same ship. The Merlin had moulted her snowy 
 plumage — her topmast was struck, jib-boom run in, 
 
 VOL. 1. 10
 
 146 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 and two tiny sails, wet and dark, represented tlie 
 volumes of canvas in which she had been clad so 
 gloriously. The smart man-of-war's men, whom 
 I had seen yesterday in turn-down collars, flow- 
 ing duck trousers, and dandy jackets, were now 
 represented by a few uncouth-looking fellows in 
 heavy jack-boots, with oilskin coats and sou^- 
 westers, crouched down under the bulwarks, or 
 anxiously watching the seas as the helmsman 
 met the rise and fall. From the summit of each 
 wave the scene was ever the same — a circle, with 
 ragged margin, enclosing a raging, tumultuous mass 
 of watery hillocks topped with white, all moving in 
 order onwards, with valleys cleft deep between, 
 the same cold grey sky as a background to 
 fantastic cloud- shapes hurrying on ghost-like as if 
 running races with the waves beneath. 
 
 " Is this a hurricane, Mr. Window V 1 asked ; 
 " it is very awful.^^ 
 
 '' Lord bless you, this is nothing. It is a strong 
 sou^-wester, that's all. It has come on very sud- 
 denly j but, as there was some sea before, there's a 
 pretty run on. It's something more than a strong 
 breeze, and perhaps it's a good half gale of wind. 
 If we were in the old Ramillies, or even my old 
 pet the Phaetorij we'd feel it more, I promise
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 147 
 
 you. There's nothing like a roomy cntter for 
 such weather ; and the Merlin is as good a 
 craft as ever Jack Window would like to be in — 
 that is^ for bad weather_, my lad ; for she's no good 
 for pay, promotion, or what you call kudos in your 
 school. Now, then,' breakfast. We must do the 
 best we can, as the cook can^t work the galley very 
 well/' 
 
 And such a breakfast ! How the little table 
 was made to look like a window without glass, 
 being covered with a framework, into which 
 oui' crockery fitted ! How my coffee, instead of 
 going into my mouth, was shot down my neck ! 
 What desperate work it was to keep in one^s seat, 
 though it was bolted to the deck ! AVhat infinite 
 delight I took in seeing the Lieutenant holding on 
 to the table, at one time bobbing his head 
 half across it, and the next nearly hitting it against 
 the side ! How very clever it was of the steward 
 to take advantage of the pauses in the general 
 unsteadiness, and to make a little run with 7Je^27 
 pas steps, holding a dish in each hand, and to 
 bring himself bolt up, and with an eye on each dish, 
 and his feet apart, to sway gently over to counteract 
 the roll of the ship ; and then take a bend to the 
 other side, till he could make good his landing in 
 
 10— 2
 
 148 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 the cabin ! All these things,, and many others, 
 made that marine breakfast most agreeable to me, 
 not to speak of the unknown condiments and edibles 
 iished ont of tins, and canisters, and jars of many- 
 shapes and sizes. 
 
 Mr. Tiller looked in, very like a huge slug, so 
 shiny and black was he. 
 
 '' The glass is not what Fd like to see it 
 yet, sir,''^ he said. " I think we^re in for a little 
 more of it.^-* 
 
 '^ Only for my friend here, whom IVe taken 
 out for a pleasure cruise, I don''t suppose it makes 
 so much diflference to you or me, does it?^^ 
 
 " For pleasure, did he T' said Mr. Tiller, looking 
 at me with evident pity. " He hadn^t heard the 
 proverb about those who go to sea for pleasure, 
 I suppose, then ? Pervided there was more sea- 
 room, he^d not do badly, would he, sir, for a 
 beginner ? It^s hard to tell where we are, and there 
 wont be much chance of getting a look at the sun 
 to-day.^' 
 
 " Perhaps we^U see the land,^^ said I, innocently. 
 
 " God forbid V exclaimed Mr. Tiller. " The 
 worst thing could happen us, unless hitting on it 
 without seeing it.^-* 
 
 Mr. Tiller was right. The weather became
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 149 
 
 worse instead of better ; and the wind; veering 
 round towards evenings brought up a cross sea. in 
 which the Merlin laboured frightfully. I could see 
 by the face of the good Lieutenant that it was no 
 laughing matter when a thump and a squashing 
 sound announced the breaking of a wave, which 
 rushed over the deck. The wings of the cutter 
 had been pared and cut down to a mere feather, 
 which, wet and strained to the utmost, seemed 
 bent on flying away altogether, and pulled at 
 the stays in desperation. Nothing so much 
 astonished me as our solitude. I knew we could 
 not be very far from land on one side or the other. 
 Then we were in the highway of ships in the 
 channel, and yet not a sign of one appeared on the 
 surface of the storm-riven shield. When night 
 set in, the tempest raged more furiously than ever. 
 I began to understand how hard must be the life 
 of men whose business is on the waters. In the 
 darkness of my little manger-like cot I lay awake, 
 watching the lamp in the saloon through the door- 
 way swinging to and fro, and listening to the howl- 
 ing of the wind and the never-ceasing rush of the 
 sea — my thoughts for ever wandering to that Indian 
 shore where all was hidden. The morning came ; 
 and, haggard and worn, with bloodshot eyes, my
 
 150 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 poor Lieutenant greeted me witli his cheerful 
 smile. 
 
 " It is well you slept so soundly, Terry. It blew 
 great guns, I can tell you — nearly a gale, my lad. 
 But the wind has suddenly fallen ; the sea will soon 
 follow it. You never stirred during the row on 
 deck, when the big steamer came down on us ; passed 
 us two boats^ lengths ojff in the middle of the 
 hardest blow.''^ 
 
 The sea was a long time going down, I thought, 
 but towards evening we saw the land on our star- 
 board bow. At nightfall we were running down 
 towards a light, which began to show in the gloam- 
 ing, flashing out and disappearing, and flashing out 
 again ; and as I turned in, the Lieutenant announced 
 we would be in smooth water and lie snugly inside 
 Oarnsore in the morning. 
 
 " It is most provoking, Terry. I don^t know what 
 Doctor Ball will say to me,^"* said Jack at break- 
 fast, " but I have been signalled from the Coast- 
 guard Station to go round to Cove for orders. 
 There must be something up, I expect, and I can''t 
 land and send you from this fag end of the world 
 to Dublin by yourself. There is no mistake 
 about it.^^ 
 
 Mr. Tiller made his appearance at the cabin door.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 151 
 
 *^ They're at it again^ sir. They have just sig- 
 nalled for the cutter to stand in, as they want to 
 communicate, and will send off a boat. 
 
 " In other words. Old Grubb wants a yarn, and 
 anything else he can get on board. Run in as close 
 as you can, and call me when he's within hail. 
 Even half an hour or so will refresh a fellow who's 
 been without sleep so long as I have, just enough 
 to make him wish for the other seven hours." 
 
 We were closing in towards the land, which was 
 marked by a belt of foam, and the surf pelting the 
 base of rocky bluff. Above the line of black and 
 white rose the green hillocks, which gradually 
 faded into the purple haze of the mountainous 
 background ; and in a cleft in the strong battle- 
 ments behind which the land resisted the en- 
 croaching sea, the bright whitewashed Coast-guard 
 Station, with many little flags flying from the 
 signal- staff, was visible. A speck on the waters, 
 rising now on the top of a billow, and now lost for 
 an anxious interval, could be made out with the 
 glass ; and as the cutter, fast running up sail after 
 sail to make way against the ebb in the faint wind, 
 rolled and lurched, yawed in the trough of the 
 sea, and wabbled about on the top of the waves, 
 there was a thumping of blocks and a flapping of
 
 152 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 canvas^ a creaking of bulkheads^ and general un- 
 steadiness about us_, whicli made the calm seem 
 more dangerous than the storm^ and gave me the 
 idea that the Merlin, having become hopelessly- 
 upset in her behaviour during the last fpur-and- 
 twenty hours,, was determined never to become a 
 sensible, well-regulated cutter again. 
 
 " Did you catch him that time, Grummett V 
 asked Mr. Tiller of the old Quartermaster, who, 
 with one arm round a rattlin and the other propping 
 the telescope against a shroud, was watching the 
 progress of the boat. 
 
 ''No, Mr. Tiller. I saw Mr. Grubb plain 
 enough in the starn-sheet, but I couldn^t make out 
 the other.^^ 
 
 '' Steady ! Here she comes again. Ah ! it^s 
 my opinion as it^s the commodore himself is coming 
 aboard.^^ 
 
 In a short time all doubt on the subject of the 
 illustrious visitor^s identity was dissipated, and the 
 Lieutenant roused up and went on deck to receive 
 Captain Dumbleton, C.B., chief of all revenue 
 cutters and coast-guards, and their belongings. It 
 was no easy matter to do so, for the cutter rolled 
 savagely in the swell, and Captain Dumbleton was 
 not formed for feats of agility. But after a good
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 153 
 
 deal of approaching and sheering-oflP, fending off 
 and laying hold and letting go_, a line was made 
 fast to the Coast-guard boat^ and presently the good- 
 natured potentate was on the deck of the Merlin, 
 followed by the gentleman I had heard designated 
 as ^' Old Grubb/'' who was another stout mariner, 
 with a broad red face and rheumy eyes, and much 
 difficulty of breathing. 
 
 " I never was so pleased in my life_, Window, as 
 when we made out your number this morning ! 
 The Sarah SyJces has made her appearance again ! 
 Before it came on to blow I ordered them at all 
 the stations to send you down at once, but I 
 never expected you so soon. The Hawk left last 
 Thursday night for Cove ; the Barnwell has orders 
 to communicate with her, and as you are so handy 
 we really ought to catch her now.^' 
 
 " The Sarah Sykes ! Indeed, sir." 
 
 " Yes. Was seen on Wednesday off the Black 
 Bank ; we have heard she left Treport, on her 
 return from America, with a full cargo. That 
 scoundrel DriscoU is in command of her, and he 
 swears he^ll land it or fight it on shore ; so I have 
 brought you some extra hands, and we must see if 
 we can^t catch him this timc.^" 
 
 And Captain Dumbleton, taking the Lieutenant
 
 154 • THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 -aside^ talked to him in whispers^ whilst Mr. Grubb 
 and Mr. Tiller entered into a general conversation 
 iind gossip of a coast and coast-guard character^ to 
 which in my ignorance I paid no great attention. 
 
 " Brady, eh T^ quoth old Grubb ; " I wonder if 
 he^s son of Major Brady of Brady villc;, the member 
 for Sligo? I like being civil to Parliament people^s 
 sons. When my case comes before the House, it^s 
 as well to have them on my side, though I know if 
 it^s justice is to be done, I don''t need help from 
 anybody after that case is stated. And so. Master 
 Brady, you^'e come to sea for a lark ? Well, you 
 can tell your father, Major Brady, when you see 
 him, that you had a very nice excursion. Pray 
 remember me to him. My name is Grubb — Grubb, 
 of the Coast-guard. He^U know all about my 
 salvage claim .'^ 
 
 '*' My father,^^ said I, " is not alive ; and he was 
 not Major, but Captain Brady.-*^ 
 
 '' Captain Brady ? I knew him too. He was 
 member for Cashel, wasn^t he ? As good a fellow 
 as ever stepped."*' 
 
 " No, sir ; my father was a member for no place. 
 He was in the King^s Own, and died out in 
 India.'^ 
 
 '' The very man, Tm sure ! Wasn''t his father
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 155 
 
 member for Leitrim ? I knew both him and his 
 son_, and I must have known your mamma very 
 well. If I am not mistaken^ she was sister 
 to Sir Thaddeus Standish^ the member for Clare, 
 :and '' 
 
 " Mr. Grubb/^ interrupted Captain Dumbleton, 
 who had overheard the last part of the speech, 
 " I^m sure we are about to get on that Parlia- 
 mentary question ; and as I have never been able 
 to tell my county member the full particulars, 
 perhaps you would wait till we get on shore." 
 
 '' My mother^s name was not Standish, at all 
 events. It was Billing/^ rejoined I ; " she was 
 drowned when the Ross-shire East Indiaman went 
 ashore on the coast of Ceylon."^ 
 
 '' To be sure ! to be sure V continued Captain 
 Dumbleton. " You and I remember it well. You 
 were in Galle, Window, in the Calypso, and I was 
 at Penang, in the Siren^ at the time ; and I recol- 
 lect people saying how odd it was that those poor 
 people were lost, and that it was said your mamma 
 was seen alive afterwards." 
 
 Stretching out my hands I cried — 
 
 '' Oh, for pity's sake ! tell me, sir " when a 
 
 ToU of the cutter caused me to lose my balance. 
 Ere I could catch at anything to save myself, I
 
 156 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 was thrown against the railing of the low bul- 
 wark. 
 
 There was a sound as of voices infinite in my 
 earsj and a rushing, as if of life with a thousand 
 feet_, towards the portals of its prison. I was a good 
 swimmer; and as soon as the shock was over, I turned 
 and struck up for the green light above me. But 
 what is this which settles on me like a wall, bars 
 out the light, and presses me down and down 
 beneath the cruel waters ? 
 
 ^ -x- ^ ^ -K- 
 
 ^' You had indeed a narrow squeak of it ! I 
 could not see you when I dived, and I don^t think I 
 ever was so happy in my life as when I rose, and 
 heard them sing out from the cutter that they had 
 you. My poor boy ! — what would I have done ? 
 But what signifies that ? What would your grand- 
 father and all your friends have done, if you had 
 been drowned under my very eyes? Thank God, 
 my boy, thank God ! I never will, I swear, take 
 man, woman, or child on a cruise again V 
 
 The voice was dear old Jack^s, as he sat beside 
 me in my cot. 
 
 I had come up under the counter at the opposite 
 side of the cutter, and as the Merlin heeled over she 
 pressed me down, and was drowning me, when the
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 157 
 
 next roll liberated me, nearly lifeless as I was ; I was 
 just seen in time by one of the men in the coast- 
 guard boat, who, with a lucky thrust of the boat- 
 hook with which he was fending off, grappled my 
 clothes and hauled me to the surface, where I was 
 secured and hoisted on board, rubbed, and dosed 
 with brandy, and covered with blankets, till I began 
 to undergo the horrors of " coming-to,^^ from which 
 I had emerged as Jack sat with my hand in his, 
 and his arm under my head. 
 
 ^' And now we must do the best we can. The 
 Commodore, as we call him, would not wait, 
 as soon as he saw you were all right, or I 
 would have sent you on shore and trusted 
 him to restore you to the arms of Dr. Ball. We 
 are running down the coast, keeping a sharp look- 
 out for a rascally smuggler — the only real one of 
 the sort we have had to deal with for many a year 
 — a Baltimore clipper, sailed by one Mr. DriscoU, an 
 Irish American — and if it falls to my lot to sight 
 the gentleman he wont find it easy to escape. Ifs 
 not glorious work, Terry, but it may do me good — 
 and God knows I want something to do that.^' 
 
 In the evening, when I got upon deck, the sun 
 was sinking over the hills of Watcrford, and cast 
 its last beams over the heaving sea, which still felt
 
 158 THE ADVENTUKES OF 
 
 the passion of its conflict. The brown-faced sailors,, 
 once more in their blue jackets and easy dress, 
 seemed half inclined to cheer me as my cnrly pate 
 rose above the companion hatch; and Mr. Tiller, 
 who had been assiduons in his attention, bobbing 
 in and out of my berth all the day, gave me a 
 squeeze of his paw which set my fingers tingling 
 with pain. When night fell, the Merlin, in smoother 
 water, kept close in shore with a fine favouring 
 .breeze. I was fast asleep — too tired for dreams. 
 
 Heavens ! what is that ? The cutter has gone 
 on a rock and we are lost ! I was out of my 
 berth and on deck in an instant. The first glance 
 told me that the Merlin, under a mighty spread of 
 canvas, was tearing through the sea far from shore. 
 Some unusual event was taking place which had 
 summoned all the crew forward except Mr. Tiller 
 and the man who was steering. 
 
 Jack, glass in hand, was looking out by the side 
 of the old quartermaster, who had screwed his eye 
 into the end of the large telescope, and was on one 
 knee peering into darkness. The men of the watch 
 were all looking in the same direction. There was 
 a strange sulphurous smell hanging about the deck, 
 and two of the sailors were training one of the guns 
 on our broadside up to the port again.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 159 
 
 Mr. Tiller was rubbing his hands in great de- 
 light. '' There^ll be luck, after all,, if we lay hold of 
 her full of brandy and baccy, and maybe silk. I 
 do think you may have brought us in fortune^s 
 way after all. Steady, Perks, steady ; I^d give her 
 something solid this time, to make her see we^ll 
 stand no nonsense.^^ 
 
 It was the report and concussion of the gun fired 
 with a blank charge over my head, which had 
 roused me from my slumbers. 
 
 As Mr. Tiller spoke, a blinding flash lighted up 
 the deck for a moment, and the carronade hopped 
 in its carriage as it delivered the second angry 
 message of the Merlin into darkness. 
 
 '^ Carrying on still, sir,^^ cried a voice from the^ 
 crosstrees, where one of the men was stationed, 
 " and running up her gaff-topsail.^^ 
 
 '^ By Jove, then, we must talk to her in earnest. 
 Grimston, clear away the bow-gun, and give her a 
 shot pretty close to her bows.^^ 
 
 By dint of hard looking and the guidance of many 
 fingers I could make out a schooner, which seemed 
 to me somewhat larger than the Merlin^ running 
 on the same course as ourselves, but well to wind- 
 ward. 
 
 " I can^t see anyone on her decks/' whispered
 
 160 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Window, ^^ except that fellow beside tlie steers- 
 man; but I dare say tbere^s a pretty nest of 
 vagabonds on board, for all that. Sbe^s drawing on 
 ns, by Jove; has ber sails flat as boards. Now 
 to stop her capers. Are you ready there, 
 Grimston ?" 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir ; all right here. We want to fall 
 away a point, if you please, sir, to shave her 
 nicely.^^ 
 
 And as the Merlin fell ofi" I saw old Grimston 
 take another look along his sights. The lanyard 
 was pulled. Again the flash lighted up the eager 
 faces — the Merlin quivered from the shock, and 
 ere the crashing roar of the eighteen-pounder 
 had well smitten our ears, the rush of the shot 
 through the air boomed in a long hollow sound, 
 tapering as it wore away till it was lost. 
 
 '' Well done, Grimston ! Well done indeed ! 
 Not twenty yards in front of her cutwater, I should 
 think, at the second ricochet,^' shouted Window. 
 '' Hang me if the fellow minds us a bit. Phew — 
 this smoke ! Aloft there. What^s the schooner 
 at?^^ 
 
 " Running up her fore and aft staysail, and 
 keeping on the same course, sir.^^ 
 
 ^^ WeVe lost by this trifling. This time well
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 161 
 
 sliow you we're in earnest, my man. Let her have 
 it right across the beam, and if a spar goes she's 
 only herself to blame/' 
 
 Again the long gun spoke out. In a few seconds 
 a suppressed exclamation from the men told 
 the ball had missed its mark. The schooner still 
 held on, and under her additional canvas was flying 
 fast ahead, whilst the Merlin had lost way in yawing 
 to train her gun. 
 
 " I don't think she can stand a stitch more 
 canvas, sir," said Mr. Tiller, ^' if we were to carry all 
 away. The wind is rising again as it is." 
 
 " Try her again, Grimston. I'll lay the gun 
 myself." Window, full of the excitement, proceeded 
 to cover the imperturbable schooner, now pro- 
 nounced without doubt to be the Sarah Sykes, 
 of Baltimore, U.S. Just as the lanyard was pulled 
 the cutter gave a quick lurch; the shot striking 
 far short of the schooner, threw up a pillar of spray 
 and was lost from sight. 
 
 " She's gaining on us fast. I would sink her if I 
 could, for there's no chance of coming up with her;" 
 and Lieutenant Jack this time spoke with clenched 
 teeth, and uttered something very like a strong ob- 
 jurgation. " Now then, Mr. Grimston, do your best 
 this time. Plump it right into her." 
 
 VOL. I. 11
 
 162 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Whether the distance deceived the old gunner or 
 not^ the shot again fell short. Window now di- 
 rected the elevation of the gun and revised the aim. 
 As the Merlin steadied herself for a moment,, he 
 gave the word " Fire/^ Once more the shot struck 
 short between us and the schooner^ and flew astern 
 of her, as I could see through the telescope by the 
 white splashes in the water. 
 
 The schooner careening over to the increasing 
 breeze calmly took in her staysail, as if to mock 
 our efforts. It was evident the Merlin was 
 letting her slip out of her claws by firing at 
 such long bowls. The chance of hitting her 
 decreased — that of overtaking her would soon be 
 gone altogether. Window determined to lay his 
 course again, hoping that one of his colleagues might 
 block the bold smuggler, and that the sound of the 
 firing at sea would arouse the coastguard to signal 
 to the stations to be on the alert. 
 
 ^' She^s making for the French coast, I think,^^ 
 said Mr. Tiller, ^^ though, then, as I say to my- 
 self, if that^s her game, why does she keep so much 
 to the westward ? Driscoll can^t hope to run a cargo 
 with us after him, and all the stations roused. 
 Maybe it^s her best point of sailing.^' 
 
 '^ Anyway, Tiller, it^s too good for us," said Jack
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 163^ 
 
 Window. '' How she is walking along, to be 
 sure \" 
 
 And so with much reluctance he was obliged to 
 give up his hope of crippling the " enemy/^ as old 
 Tiller called her. With very small chance of over- 
 taking her, he resolved to pursue and keep the 
 schooner in sight at all events. To me the whole 
 scene was " great fun.^^ It was full of excitement. I 
 thought little of the horror which would have been 
 worked had one of the missiles crashed into that 
 solitary craft _, smashing up wood and iron and the 
 miserable wretches who were cowering behind the 
 bulwarks,, and yet held on their course. I could 
 not see the pale resolute man^ with compressed lips 
 and frowning brow^ who, grasping the tiller, was 
 looking now aloft to the draw of his sails, and now 
 to the dark side of the angry cutter, from which, 
 as the flash came, he might expect that he and his 
 venture were about to meet their fate. 
 
 Morning was breaking when I went up to have 
 another look at the Sarah Sykes. 
 
 " Where is she now, Mr. Window V 
 
 There was a look of undisguised vexation on his 
 face as he pointed out a snow-white speck far away 
 on the horizon, which the morning light threw in 
 relief on the clouds and sea surge. 
 
 11-2
 
 164 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 " Running away from us hand over hand ; and 
 what^s worse^ my lad, she^s making right down 
 Channel as if going to run for Brest — maybe across 
 the Bay of Biscay. She is keeping away now from 
 the Irish coast,, and will, if she lies on her course, 
 run pretty close to the Land's End. I can^t lose 
 sight of her, for Mister DriscoU knows what he^s 
 about ; if he could dodge us he would very likely 
 'bout ship and make another run to land his cargo, 
 knowing well the cutters are nearly all down about 
 here. Confound you,'^ continued he, shaking his 
 fist, " 1^11 follow you till you're inside your bounds 
 as long as Tm afloat. Well, it's a longer holiday 
 than we reckoned on. There is every sign of 
 another breeze of wind springing up, and if it's a 
 rattler we may run down on him after all." 
 
 All day at sea — the centre of the shield on 
 the outer rim of which, glinting like the wing of 
 the mew, danced in the growing roll of the waves 
 the object of our pursuit ! Ships came in sight and 
 sank beneath the horizon here and there, but every 
 eye was turned on that tiny speck. And as night set 
 in, and the wind rose still higher, and the Merlin 
 lay over under a press of canvas, which made 
 every spar scream as if in suflfering, whilst the foam 
 bubbled along the top of her lee bulwarks, Jack
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 165 
 
 Window, very anxious, and rather more stern and 
 curt than I had seen him, held a council with his 
 trusty aide, the result of which was that they would 
 hold on in their pursuit, and that, if the Sarah 
 Sykes got away, it should be no fault of his. 
 
 "If she was to lie-to now, I don't see what 
 harm we could do her, supposing DriscoU has 
 any papers at all. He might say he was going 
 from Baltimore to Brest, and that he took a fancy 
 to come round by the North Passage. As he's up 
 to every trick on the cards, I can only suppose he 
 has no papers to clear himself. He was certainly 
 inside the line when we sighted him, and he refused 
 to lie-to when fired at. No, depend on it, he is 
 playing some deep and desperate game — something 
 more than a mere affair of tobacco and brandy." 
 
 And so Jack sat over his rum and water ruminat- 
 ing, and looking at the glass from time to time, 
 and cheering up as he saw it falling — for after 
 a temporary rise the mercury began to go 
 down again. He rubbed his hands now and then, 
 and with an inquiring glance at Mr. Tiller, mur- 
 mured, with an air of satisfaction, " We may catch 
 him yet — we may catch him yet. I'll carry on till 
 the sticks are in danger, I can tell you. Tiller.'' 
 
 And so he did. That night was terrible. Before
 
 166 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 it was over J tlie Merlin was plunging in a sea of 
 whicli the roll was grander and deeper than that I 
 had witnessed with so much awe. As the gale grew 
 in strength the cutter proved the correctness of the 
 Lieutenant's prophecy, or at least of his hopes, and 
 the distance between her and the schooner was 
 obviously diminishing ; but the Sarah Sykes altered 
 her course towards evening. 
 
 ^^ Fm darned if she's not going back to Amerikey, 
 as certain as I live/' grunted the old sailor at the 
 helm j *"' we're going to have a spree in the At- 
 lantic, young gentleman." 
 
 The Lieutenant's lips closed tighter than ever, 
 and his brow darkened, as the sky, descending 
 on the sea, poured forth its deluges of rain, and the 
 wind tearing off the foaming summit of the billows 
 blew them in flying scud over the boiling waters. 
 Still, when the day was over, and the night came, 
 the schooner was there. When the morning 
 dawned she was still in her place. Men shook 
 their heads. Mr. Tiller confessed to me, as we sat 
 below, he would have been glad if she disappeared, 
 ^' As long as she kept on her present course, the 
 Merlin'^ he said, '' had no chance ; and if the wind 
 went down again the schooner would just slip away 
 again like a greyhound. Supposing the Merlin
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 167 
 
 should come up with her in such a seaway^ no boat 
 could board her j and I don^t suppose Mr. Window 
 would venture to sink her." 
 
 He was interrupted in his confidences by the ap- 
 pearance of Window^s head in the cabin. " I say, 
 Tiller/^ he exclaimed^ " the fellow has, just out of 
 sheer bravado, run up the Yankee flag in blue water. 
 We can just make it out — stars and stripes, sure 
 enough, as big as a mainsail ! But 1^11 make him 
 show his papers, as I live.'^ 
 
 " Yes, that^s all very well, sir ; but have we the 
 right? We can^t board him at sea, as we^re only 
 revenue, you know." 
 
 '^ There's the pendant flying," exclaimed Window, 
 " and right or wrong 1^11 call Mr. Driscoll to ac- 
 count." 
 
 But the passion and determination of man were 
 rebuked by the voice of the storm. The gale 
 increased to a hurricane. The sea, almost 
 beaten down by the force of the wind, had a fearful 
 strength. Again and again ponderous sheets of 
 water rushed over the staggering vessel, and strove 
 as though they would fain press her down for ever. 
 With topmast struck, her trysail reefed to a shred, 
 and a tiny staysail, she struggled on like some 
 drowning bird. At last it became evident that it
 
 168 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 was madness to continue the contest with the At- 
 lanticj and Window gave orders to lie to. For 
 three long days and nights the Merlin rode in the 
 midst of the tempest ; and there^ some four or five 
 miles awajj rising and falling at long intervals in 
 the tremendous seas, lay the schooner, oftentimes 
 hidden from us by the scud and by the drift of the 
 tortured waters. All the time I, perforce, remained 
 in my cabin and in the little saloon, which had 
 become all my world, lighted only by the lamp 
 which burned night and day, with the hatches 
 battened and the dead-lights down. I could hear 
 the seas sweeping over the deck, and the tread 
 of the heavy boots above, and the thumping of coils 
 of rope j the lamp swung backwards and forwards, 
 clicking like the pendulum of a clock, for ever 
 gathering a dank coat of salt dew, which crept 
 down below and pervaded all things ; the timbers 
 creaked and cried aloud, and little streams of 
 water trickling in and down over the paint, showed 
 how the Merlin was tried in the fight with her 
 enemy. I was beginning to consider an angle of 
 forty-five up and down the normal condition of 
 marine life ; and our meals, such as they were, be- 
 coming worse every day, were eaten under circum- 
 stances of contrivance and dexterity almost incredi-
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 169 
 
 ble to the uninitiated. I knew we were in danger, 
 thougli I could not tell what it was, for I saw 
 Merry, our steward, crying and praying, and drink- 
 ing a great deal of rum and water ; and although 
 the latter was natural enough, the former prac- 
 tices were not at all usual with him, as I had heard 
 him more than once larding his speeches to little 
 Dan, the captain^s boy, with words which made my 
 hair stand up. Window confessed it was the worst 
 weather he had ever met in these parts — it was as 
 bad as a hard cyclone, and nothing could stand it 
 except such a boat as we were in, and ^Hhat con- 
 founded Yankee.'^ 
 
 " And where is she now, sir ?'' 
 
 '^ She is — will you believe it, Terry ? — she is 
 actually quite close to us. We have never lost 
 sight of her all this time, night or day. There^s 
 not a soul to be seen except one man on deck, 
 and she is lying-to as comfortable as a duck. 
 You don't know what absurd fellows sailors are. 
 I declare there are some old salts on board who, 
 Pm told, have quite a fear on them about her, 
 and think she is not canny. I expect next they 
 will swear she is the Flying Dutchman. No," he 
 continued, ^^ you must not go up yet : all hands are 
 below whom we don^t want. Stay here, my dear
 
 170 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 hoj, and put your trust in Him who watches over 
 the sea and land. You are a brave^ stout heart, 
 and,, with God^s blessing, we will live yet to talk 
 over the time that Jack Window nearly went down 
 with you in the mid- Atlantic in a mad chase after 
 that craft of the evil one '' 
 
 ^*^That the craft and subtlety of the devil be 
 brought to nought, good Lord deliver us/^ ejaculated 
 a voice, with a hiccup, from the pantry. Window, 
 who knew the source of the sound, clenched his fist 
 and his teeth. 
 
 ^' You^ll catch it for this, Mr. Merry, I can pro- 
 mise you.^^ 
 
 '^ Catch it ! — and don^t you call this catching it ? 
 Oh ! Mr. Window, hear me entreat you to give up 
 drink and bad company ! Give peace in our time, 
 O Lord.^^ — The prayer was interrupted by a cut 
 over the shoulders with a strap, delivered by the 
 Lieutenant with all his might, and Mr. Merry, who 
 sat on the floor of his pantry, with a glass of grog 
 in one hand, and with the leg of the table 
 clutched in the other, then relapsed into a cry- 
 ing fit, and then prayed at intervals in a voice 
 which became more inarticulate, till it graduated 
 into snoring. 
 
 The gale moderated at the end of the third day.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 171 
 
 The schooner shook out her feathers. Once more 
 the chase was resumed^ but with no better fortune. 
 Day after day passed,, one like another : the thump- 
 ing of the waters against the much-vexed sides of 
 the cutter — the words of command — the rattling 
 of halyards and sheets on the deck^ mingling for 
 ever with the moaning and whistling of the wind — 
 all around us a tumultuous sea, above a leaden 
 sky flecked with cloud-shapes, hurrying in a chase 
 as futile as our own. There came into my head 
 a hope that somehow or other we might get to 
 India at last — for my geography was rather vague, 
 and was perverted by sentiment. But all such 
 happy delusions were knocked on the head by old 
 Jack, whom I began to tell all my thoughts to 
 without reserve. The Merlin was fast approaching 
 the shores of the New World. 
 
 "We are on the Banks and rather astonishing 
 the cod-fishers, I can tell you, Terry. I fear I 
 shall be beaten after all, be laughed at, and, what 
 is worse, be reprimanded for leaving my station.^^ 
 
 There, far as the eye could reach, were ships 
 of all sizes and rigs lying at anchor in deep water, 
 tossing and pitching in the roll of the sea; and 
 as we passed close by a brig which was tumbling 
 about in an agonizing manner, I could see the
 
 172 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 fishing-lines over her sides, and the men pulling up 
 the cod-fish hand over hand from the depths 
 below. Ahead of us ever was the schooner, 
 flying through the maze of ships. The lights on 
 board the fleet at night looked like lurid stars 
 through the sea-haze. 
 
 '^ It is all over/' said Jack to me, as I put my 
 head out of my crib to inquire after the morning's 
 news. " She is beating us fast, and land is in sight." 
 
 " Land !— what land ?" 
 
 ^^Why the land of the New World, somewhere 
 about Cape Cod, I guess, as the natives would say. 
 There was just a chance that some of our cruisers 
 from Halifax might be knocking about to look at the 
 fishermen, or buzznacking for something or other, 
 which might have helped me to lay hold of that 
 slippery fellow. But no such luck. It's merely 
 that I like to stick to my word I am carrying on 
 still ; and soon we'll have to 'bout ship and make 
 straight back across the Atlantic for Dr. Ball, 
 T.C.D., and his young friends. You'll be able to 
 spin many a tremendous yarn, wont you, Terry, 
 about our cruise? I only hope the Doctor and 
 your grandfather wont prosecute me for running 
 away with you." 
 
 It was as Lieutenant "Window said : the cloud
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 173 
 
 I could just discern resting on the sea in 
 the early morning, became more distinct and rose 
 higher every hour, and spread away right and 
 left ; and fishermen, and coasting vessels with 
 snowy sails, and all the signs of prosperous, busy 
 maritime life, grew upon us ; and at last we could 
 see the villages, the white houses, and the churches 
 on the land. 
 
 "The schooner is lying-to, sir,^' cried the 
 look-out man ; and there, sure enough, was the 
 Sarah Sykes slowly coming round with her 
 broadside to us. In another moment a pufi" of 
 smoke rose from her side, and as it cleared away, 
 we could see an enormous ensign at her peak — the 
 stars and stripes, flying over a green flag. She 
 was making signals to a sloop-of-war which lay 
 in shore, and presently the latter filled her top- 
 sails and came down towards the smuggler. 
 
 Jack and Mr. Tiller were watching these pro- 
 ceedings through their glasses with an air of in- 
 tense dissatisfaction. ^' I only want to give him a 
 bit of my mind, but he will have the best of me ; and 
 he^s signalling to that swaggering Yankee to come 
 and help him to bully us. I swear I shouldn't be 
 at all surprised if the fellow pretends to have 
 grounds of complaint against us. It is enough to
 
 174 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 make a man mad, to be led such a wild-goose chase 
 — to be laughed at on this side of the Atlantic — 
 to be near foundering with all on board in the 
 middle of it, and to be certain of coming to grief 
 when I get to the Old World. However, there's 
 no help for it. Mr. Tiller, I shall put about now, 
 for I am not in a humour to stand any of their 
 chaff, and perhaps something worse. No ! no ! — 
 haul down V he exclaimed angrily, as the Union 
 Jack was running up ; " haul down at once.''' 
 
 By this time the sloop-of-war and the schooner 
 had come within a mile of each other, and as the 
 Merlin put her bow eastward, we could see a boat 
 push off from the latter and make the best of her 
 way towards the man-of-war. The wind had fallen 
 light in shore, while there was still a fair leading 
 breeze outside, and the cutter, on her best point of 
 sailing, went buzzing through the water at the rate 
 of twelve knots an hour. 
 
 " It's no use, my friend ! It is our turn 
 now !" quoth Jack Window, with a little touch 
 of his old smile on his face, as he stood 
 looking over the taffrail, with his glass to his eye. 
 '^ If you want to catch us you must send the 
 schooner after us, and I only wish you would dare, 
 that's all ; I'd give a year's pay to see it." And
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 175 
 
 in effect the sloop_, with all sail set, and a number 
 of signals to wliich she called attention by gun 
 after gun, seemed to be anxious to overtake the 
 Merlin. But she did not; and as the moon 
 rose in the first cloudless sky we had seen for many 
 a night, the man-of-war was hull down, and in the 
 morning was gone altogether. 
 
 Sixteen long days and nights at sea ! How I 
 began to hate the biscuit and the salt pork, and beef 
 and beans, and brown-black coffee, although whales, 
 and porpoises, and albecores, and gannets — nay, 
 a devil-fish and a veritable shark — came to diversify 
 the voyage. The strain and the excitement were 
 all gone. Jack Window was busy with logs, and 
 journals, and writing reports — the latter were never- 
 ending, still beginning, and mostly went fluttering 
 away in fragments over the side. 
 
 " I would sooner write a despatch about a 
 general action ,^^ he groaned. " Oh ! how they will 
 pitch into me V And I sat and looked at him and 
 sighed to think that I could not help him. There 
 was but a limited library on board — the " Nautical 
 Almanac,^^ ^' Navy Lists,^^ ^' Coast-guard Regula- 
 tions,^' " Orders in Co uncil,'' ^^ Nories' Navigation/' 
 a collection of Board of Trade and Custom- House 
 circulars and memoranda, ^*^Tlic Life of Nelson,''
 
 176 ADVENTURES OF DOCTOR BRADY. 
 
 " The British Worthies '^ — an odd volume of 
 " Hakluyt/^ which was my mainstay. But before 
 the voyage was half done I had finished " Hakluyt/^ 
 and the '^ Worthies/^ and " Nelson/^ and had ven- 
 tured on " Norie^^ and Navy Lists. Sometimes it 
 occurred to me that Dr. Ball would be rather angry, 
 and that my grandfather would be fretting for my 
 absence, and perhaps uneasy j but I never supposed 
 that there were any downright fears for our safety. 
 It was nearly a month since I set out on my event- 
 ful voyage. I could not then — for I had never felt 
 it — imagine how watching and waiting fill the soul 
 with gloom and bury hope at last.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE RETURN. 
 
 " We are all so glad to welcome you, old fellow 
 — not a soul ever expected to see one of you alive 
 again. Why, it^s famous \" And Captain Bud- 
 dicombe, who stood on our deck as the Merlin 
 brought-to under the guard-ship, off Spike Island, 
 in Cove Harbour, shook his old shipmate by the 
 hand again and again. 
 
 " Lost ! why, what else could we think, my dear 
 Window ? It is now the 4th of May. You were 
 last seen off Bally cotton on the evening of the 5 th 
 of April. There was one of the worst gales we have 
 had on the coast for years. The Cove, and Youghal, 
 and Kinsale men tell us they never knew a heavier 
 sea on. A vessel dismasted, which looked like the 
 cutter, was seen to go down in the height of it off 
 the Seven Heads. Next day, a larger craft, which 
 had been seen in her company, came ashore at 
 
 VOL. I. 12
 
 178 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Horse Island, and was of course broken up into 
 firewood; but it was evident she was American- 
 built. She was laden with rum, brandy, tobacco, 
 and French silk ; a piece of her stern-board, with 
 the letters ' a,h, S,y,Ic/ in gold, was washed ashore, 
 and a part of a boat, with the letters and words 
 ' altimore, U.S.,' on it. The bodies that were found 
 could not be identified, but Rattray says, from their 
 clothing and marks, they were mostly Frenchmen 
 and foreigners. It was known you were chasing the 
 Sarah Sykes, and putting one thing and the other 
 together — although there was great faith in the 
 sea-going qualities of the cutter — when days 
 lengthened into weeks, and still there was no sign 
 of you, the most hopeful agreed there could be 
 only one conclusion. All the papers have been 
 full of the ' Loss of her Majesty's cutter Merlin , 
 J. Window, Lieutenant R.N., commanding, and aU 
 hands.' We welcome you as one who has come 
 back from the grave. '^ 
 
 Jack Window, with his eyes wide open, listened 
 to the captain, and when he had done, putting the 
 paper on his knees, he gave a very gentle and very 
 long whistle. 
 
 " ' A, h,' that's the end of ' Sarah,' " quoth he ; 
 ^^ and ' S, y, k/ that's the beginning of^Sykes/ on her
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 179 
 
 stern ! ' Si,l, t, i, m, o, r, e, U.S./ wliicli only wants 
 a ^ B^ to be '^ Baltimore/ on her boat ! Then^ in the 
 name of all that^s wonderful^ what have I been run- 
 ning after ?'^ He continued as if reading from a list : 
 ^^ A schooner about two hundred and eighty tons, 
 long and low in the water_, with tall, raking masts, 
 gilt figure-head a woman^s face, fine bow and run, 
 square stern, overhanging counter, coppered to the 
 bends." '^ If ever a craft answered in all particulars 
 to description, that Yankee Tye been making a fool of 
 myself after, is the Sarah Sykes, of Baltimore V 
 ^' Michael DriscoU, a deserter from the Boyal Navy, 
 native of Kinsale, and now citizen of the United 
 States, master, sailing generally with clearances from 
 Boston for Havre." Well, I know nothing about 
 the last part, for they would not let me near enough 
 to see them. Hum ! and so you all thought we 
 were lost. Here we have it," and Jack Window 
 began to read a newspaper where Captain Buddi- 
 combe's finger was resting. " ' Loss of his Majesty^s 
 cutter Merlin, and all souls / that^s good, to begia 
 with. ^ Regret to say — hum ! — further accounts — 
 hum ! — confirm painful — hum ! — total loss. Fine 
 vessel — hum ! — deserving, but over-zealous officer.^ 
 Over-zealous ! — what^s that ? ^ Crew^, forty-five 
 souls ; widows, children — lament — hum ' " his
 
 180 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 face assumed an expression of pain; he read on 
 silently — clasped his hands — let the paper fall at his 
 feet — and looking at me with eyes slowly filling 
 with tears, took me by the hand,, and said — " Terry, 
 my dear fellow, I have news for yon. Come down 
 with me to the cabin. Buddicombe, I^m sure 
 you will excuse me for a few minutes ; this is the 
 boy who is mentioned — from Dr. BalFs — in the paper, 
 whose grandfather you know — Dr. Brady. All right, 
 God bless you. Come, Terry — come along. We 
 have all our trials, and mine and yours began early .^' 
 
 There was something in his words and manner 
 which made me anxious. I asked, ^' Is there 
 anything about grandpapa in the papers ? Is he 
 quite well T' 
 
 ^^ Quite well, Terry — quite well ; better than he 
 has been for many a day.^' Jack Window was a bad 
 dissembler ; I heard him cough in an odd kind of 
 way; the tears were stealing down his cheeks. 
 '^ Don^t ask me yet. We must see if it^s true, my 
 lad. Why here have they been quite sure that 
 we have been all at the bottom of the sea for 
 the last four weeks, and not a hair hurt in the 
 whole crew ! Come what will, I must get leave, 
 and we will go up to-night together by the Cork 
 mail.^'
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 181 
 
 " But what is it that is not true ? If grandfather 
 is well, that is all right ; what does the paper say, 
 Captain Jack V 
 
 " I will tell you by and by, Terry. You must 
 not believe a word of their confounded story /^ I felt 
 more uneasy than before. He continued — '^ You see 
 the papers gave out that we were lost. Dr. Ball wrote 
 to your grandfather to say you had been allowed to 
 go with me on this unlucky cruise ; and your grand- 
 father, they go on to say, began to get frightened 
 like the rest at the ridiculous story in the papers. 
 Well, he comes to Dublin to see Dr. Ball, and then 
 he goes to the coastguard stations, and worries him- 
 self. What is the use of all this talk, my dear boy ? 
 Here we are, within a few hours of Dublin. The 
 boy is packing up your clothes. I have sent to 
 engage places, and to-morrow I will restore you to 
 the Doctor, and bear my punishment meekly.^^ 
 
 " But what does the paper say about grandpapa ? 
 Why should anything be said of him ? It makes 
 me so miserable. Do tell me, because I must 
 know/^ 
 
 Jack Window looked at me straight from his 
 great eyes, and there was a tenderness in his tone 
 as he spoke which sunk into my heart. '^ What is 
 said is that your grandfather, Terry, has been
 
 182 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 very ill. With us it would matter little whether 
 an old country doctor was ill or wellj but it's 
 something to belong to what they call the ' old 
 stock' here ; and there are notices of your family 
 as long as my arm, my dear boy, all turning on the 
 supposed fact that you have gone down, in the 
 thirteenth year of your age, in the ill-fated Merlin, 
 They rake up all the old bones they can find of 
 Generals, Barons, and Counts Brady and O'Brady. 
 And, finally, they give the old gentleman a stroke 
 of apoplexy in order to finish off their article. 
 You may be sure it's not true. But remember, 
 Terry, that come what may, you must look on me 
 as your friend. I have little kith and less kin, 
 and no friends but myself, and you are a mere boy, 
 on the very outside of the race of life in which you 
 see me winded and beaten ; but it is something, 
 nay, a great thing, to have a friend ; and when you 
 are a lion, if ever you get into a net, call on Jack 
 Window, and you may reckon on teeth, and perse- 
 verance in the use of them." 
 
 It is one of the many happinesses of youth that 
 its sorrow is not deep or lasting. It is passionate — 
 fervent, whilst it endures; but the sun soon breaks 
 through the clouds. It must be of youth that it is 
 said '' Sorrow endureth for a night, but joy cometh
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 183 
 
 in the morning.''^ So of the anticipations of grief, 
 which make the bulk of the wisdom of old age ; 
 there is in youth but a slight leaven — too little, 
 thank heaven, to leaven the lump. As I rattled 
 away in the inside of the mail with Jack Window, 
 who was full of documents and troubles, I had 
 almost forgotten all my fears and grief, and had 
 brought myself to believe with him that all these 
 rumours of evil were as baseless as my night- 
 dreams. 
 
 It was near nine o^clock next day before Jack 
 and I, on an outside car, were on our way to the 
 suburb of Dublin in which Dr. Ball^s establishment 
 was situated. Jack Window was very grave then. 
 I had seen him speaking to a man in the Post-office 
 yard, and noted that his face fell as he spoke ; but 
 as he got up beside me he took my hand, and said, 
 " We^re in time, my boy. Please God, all will be 
 right yet.^^ When we arrived at the old house Doctor 
 Ball was standing at the door to welcome me, and 
 the windows were filled with faces, for the news of 
 our safety and of our coming had gone through the 
 school. There was less stateliness and more kind- 
 ness in the Doctor's manner than usual. He held 
 out both hands to welcome me. 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Window, what a time we have had of
 
 184 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 it ! We will hear the story of our young Ulysses 
 presently^ when he has seen his grandfather/^ 
 
 '^ My grandfather here !" I exclaimed. " Oh, 
 where is he ? Let me go to him at once." 
 
 A quick glance passed between the Doctor and 
 Window, and I heard the latter whisper, " I have 
 not told him all about that.''^ 
 
 '^ The fact is then, Brady," continued Dr. Ball, 
 turning to me and dusting some snuff off his shirt- 
 frill, " the fact is, your respected grandfather has 
 been and is ill — so ill that the physicians order the 
 greatest quiet and calm to be observed. Nothing 
 must be allowed to agitate him; and we must 
 break the news of your arrival here very gently, 
 in the course of the day. He has been in some 
 degree prepared for good news — not without hesi- 
 tation among the medical attendants — by being 
 told some doubts are entertained if the vessel seen 
 to go down was the Merlin. Nothing can exceed 
 the kindness of Sir Bichard^s household. If she 
 had been his daughter. Miss Butler could not be a 
 better nurse — so tender, so thoughtful for her years. 
 You must be patient, my young friend ; to-day is 
 almost the crisis of his illness." 
 
 By degrees I heard the whole story. 
 
 Dr. Ball wrote to Lough-na-Carra to say he had
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 185 
 
 given me leave to take a sail along the coast for a 
 couple of clays_, with a naval officer who had known 
 my father out in India^ and that he greatly feared 
 some accident had occurred,, as more than a fort- 
 night had elapsed and nothing had been heard of 
 the cutter ; that there had been dreadful storms at 
 sea soon after she was seen off Wicklow Head, and 
 that there were reports of a wreck on the south coast. 
 My grandfather posted up to town immediately. Then 
 he went along the coast, travelling from one station 
 to another, making inquiries and sifting the stories 
 of the men and of the country people, till he came 
 to the scene of the wreck, and to the place from 
 which the Merlin was seen to founder. He had 
 overtaxed his powers, journeying without intermis- 
 sion, walking among the cliffs. As he gazed on the 
 sullen ocean beneath which his loved boy was sleep- 
 ing for ever, the spark of hope dwindled and ex- 
 pired — nature gave way. The sailors who accom- 
 panied him to the spot had gone a little way off, 
 for they heard his smothered sobs. When they 
 turned, after a time, he was not in sight. They 
 were horrified to find he had fallen over the cliff 
 and was lying on the beach below, insensible, his 
 white hair soaked in blood. For days he lay be- 
 tween life and death ; but he was strong of frame ;
 
 186 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 his natural vigour of constitution came to his aid, 
 his broken arm knitted well, and he slowly recovered 
 the power of utterance. His sole wish was to be 
 brought back to Lough-na-Carra. They heard him 
 in his sleep speaking of some wicked woman who 
 should never touch a farthing of the money ; 
 and tossing in troubled dreams, he cried for 
 mercy for his grandson. They carried him on 
 a litter to the beach, and he bore the passage 
 roimd to Dublin, buoyed up by the desire to 
 return to his home. Sir Richard Desmond insisted 
 on taking the old man to his house in Merrion- 
 square till he could continue his journey to Lough- 
 na-Carra; and although he in the utmost grief 
 told all his friends he did not care to Kve, he 
 vowed at the same time he must get to his house 
 ere he died. Two days before the Merlin appeared 
 in Cove, as he was seated in his easy chair, his eye 
 rested on a paragraph in the paper. He uttered a 
 feeble exclamation : " My God ! she comes again V^ 
 and tried to rise. His servant ran to his assistance, 
 but the old man was speechless and powerless. What 
 it was he had seen to affect him so powerfully no 
 one could say ; but his hand clutched the newspaper 
 firmly, and he resisted all attempts to remove it 
 from his feeble grasp.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 187 
 
 This was what I heard with grief — not " too 
 deep for tears." In my inner heart I blamed myself 
 for being the cause of all the suffering which he had 
 undergone. 
 
 I went over to Merrion- square with Jack Win- 
 dow at once_, for the honest fellow had come 
 back to bid me good-bye ere he returned to his ship. 
 There was^ as he expected^ what he called " no end of 
 a row. Most likely he would be keel-hauled by the 
 bigwigs ; but it would be just as well^ for he had 
 only taken coastguard-service for want of something 
 better ; and he didn^t much care. 
 
 " I will fix myself somewhere near you, Terry, 
 when the old man gets well, and you get your 
 vacation-time — somewhere near a trout-stream, and 
 within sight of the sea ; and, meantime, let me 
 hear from you regularly and 1^11 tell you how every- 
 thing goes on. We will remain friends, wont we, 
 Terry, though Fve caused so much trouble?" A 
 silent grasp of the hand was my answer. 
 
 We had just turned into the square, near the 
 corner of which Sir Richard^s house was, and 
 Maurice Prendergast was coming down the 
 steps. He had sat with me, listening to my 
 adventures, in my room, and had thrown his arms 
 round my neck and embraced me the moment he
 
 188 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 saw me ; but he had never said a word of visiting 
 Sir Richard Desmond ; and now his face reddened, 
 and he stammered and looked down when I exclaimed, 
 *^And so you were calling to see how grandpapa 
 was ! It is very kind of you, Maurice ; I hope you 
 have a good report/^ 
 
 " I was at Sir Richard^s on business/^ he replied ; 
 " that is, I had to try to see him or Miss Desmond 
 about a little matter my sister asked me to get 
 done — something for her school. I couldn't see 
 them, for they both left town this morning ; and 
 Miss Butler's gone, too. Dr. Brady is better, but 
 still very bad.'' 
 
 '^ Will you wait, and we'll walk back together ?" 
 " No, thank you ; I have somewhere else to go 
 to, and the Doctor has only given me leave for two 
 hours;" and he walked away, with his quick step, 
 and his hands in his pockets — there was likely to 
 be little else in them — and his head down, as was 
 his wont. And Jack Window stood looking after 
 him, and walked up and down, as I made my in- 
 quiries. Vincent, the old porter, though he rarely 
 visited the castle, knew me well enough, and 
 waddling back to the fire in the hall, which was 
 lighted in spite of its being a fine day in May, 
 patted the coals, wheezing out his news.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 189 
 
 '^ And that^s how it is^ Master Brady — ^ per- 
 carious state/ was Sir Philip^s words, ^but on the 
 whole a shade of improvement/ says he. Sir Henry 
 was for it that he was a power better, and Graves 
 was for that, too ; and they^d a great deal of learned 
 talk just at the foot of the stairs there. But Fd 
 back Sir Philip agin all of them. Anyway, the 
 house is just like Madame Stephens', or Mercer's, 
 with the doctors coming and going in their shoots 
 of black, and their big gold watch chains, and their 
 shining boots that makes no noise. But who'd 
 grudge it if they'd get the darlint ould man all 
 right again ?" 
 
 " And Sir E-ichard and the family are gone, Vin- 
 cent ?" 
 
 " Oh, aye ; one of their sudden moves. Not a 
 word of it did Mounseer Pitty know last night ; 
 and Sir Richard had him up at cockcrow, and 
 orders him to pack and be off — and little pity I 
 have for the same conceited Frinchman. Mamselle, 
 I hear, is goin' to give notice — her health can't 
 stand these tremenjous stravagins. Poor Miss Des- 
 mond and the young missus had to be nimble, I can 
 tell you. They've left Mrs. Whipple, the house- 
 keeper, in charge, and she's in the oidd gentleman's 
 room this minit."
 
 190 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 " Wellj say 1^11 be back again this evening before 
 dnsk^ and Dr. Ball will let me come whenever I 
 like/^ 
 
 " I heard them saying you was to stop here as 
 soon as your grand-dadda was better. It was Miss 
 Mary put that in their heads, I know; but Sir 
 Richard went off so smart he^d no time to think 
 of it.^^ 
 
 As I was walking back towards the house with 
 Jack Window, who seemed as anxious as I was 
 about a man he had never seen, I gave him all the 
 particulars. 
 
 " Who was the lad you met just now, Terry ,^^ 
 he continued, '^ as we were outside the steps ?" 
 
 " A schoolfellow, Maurice Prendergast, son of a 
 country gentleman near Lough-na-Carra.^^ 
 
 " I don^t know why, Terry, exactly, but some- 
 how I doubt if he^s a good fellow. I don^t like to 
 see a young chap like that so thoughtful and cau- 
 tious-like. He's a handsome lad ; but there^s mis- 
 chief in those deep-seated black eyes and those thin 
 lips. Fm not more of a judge of men's phizzes 
 than other people who go about the world on their 
 own hook early in life, but I think his figure-head 
 means danger. I must bid you good-bye. Our 
 little excursion, which began so quietly, has grown
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 191 
 
 into a great event ; I hope it will have no re- 
 sults which will ever cause you to regret our fishing 
 acquaintance. As a last word, I can only say I 
 shall always look out for your future with interest^ 
 and hope to see you making a name for yourself. 
 Don%''^ he said, after a moment's pause, "mind 
 what I said about your schoolfellow, Prendergast. 
 It's just as likely Fm wrong as right. Suspicion 
 and distrust will come soon enough.''' Another shake 
 of the hand and he was oflP ; but it was only to turn 
 round and impress on me to write,, and not mind 
 postage^ and let him know how Dr. Brady got on. 
 " FU send you my address as soon as I know what 
 they are going to do with me. Good-bye, Terence — 
 God bless you ; and remember you will ever have 
 a sure^ if feeble, friend in Jack Window.'' 
 
 The turn of the street hid his figure, as, with a 
 light jerky step, he walked briskly away. 
 
 A few days had made a great change in my re- 
 flections. Care had come indeed. There was now 
 a real potent cause of solicitude, which I felt was 
 little akin to that fantastic uneasiness which had so 
 long possessed my spirit. The good old man who 
 loved me so, and who had watched over me with 
 such tenderness ! I might never see him more. 
 I did not ask what would become of me ; but
 
 192 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 I was full of remorse at the idea that I had 
 been, however innocently, the canse of his illness. 
 My life was about to bear the mark which even 
 youth must feel. Morning and evening I went over 
 regularly for more days than I can remember. I 
 heard the report of the doctors from Vincent or the 
 servant, and sometimes from Mrs. Whipple herself, 
 whose silk dress and white cap and collar were as 
 angular and hard as the good creature herself was 
 round and soft. He was slowly — very slowly — re- 
 covering from the sleep so little separated from 
 death — his consciousness returning, too — Mrs. 
 Whipple thought if his mind could only be kept 
 quiet he would soon get right. But he was for 
 ever distracting himself about all sorts of people. 
 Mrs. Whipple opined they were creations of his 
 brain : some woman, he thought, was coming to 
 disturb him — to take his son from him, or his 
 grandson — to come to Lough-na-Carra and destroy 
 every one — a sort of witch she must be ; and then 
 he raved so, poor gentleman, it quite put him back 
 again. 
 
 One day Vincent, as he opened the door, had 
 a pleasant look, which almost prepared me for 
 good news. ^^ Sir Philip and all of them is 
 agreed the squire, your granddadda, is a deal better
 
 DOCTOR BRADY, 193 
 
 this morning. Faith, it was wantin^ to get up 
 and go down to the country he was_, poor gentle- 
 man_, by the night mail. And Sir Philip says he^U 
 be able to judge this evening if it^s right to give 
 him another dose of the same medicine. They^re 
 jist giving it to him by dhrops — in hints and scraps 
 — at a time, and it^s all about yourself, and that 
 there are chances of your not being lost after all ; 
 they're coming on to the news by degrees, that 
 you're alive and well — and faith, if he could see 
 you this minute, Master Terence, I think it would 
 do him all the good in the world, for it's well you 
 look, and ahve you are, and no mistake about it.'' 
 
 The first sick room makes a deep dent in the 
 memory : the phials on the mantelpiece, the glasses 
 and bottles on the table, the imperfect light, the 
 constrained movements, the quiet noises which domi- 
 nate the silence. I can see my grandfather now as 
 when my eyes rested on him through the opening 
 door — seated in an easy chair in his well-known old 
 dressing-gown of faded blue velvet, with its tar- 
 nished silver cord ; his white hair escaping from 
 beneath a skull-cap, and one foot resting on a 
 cushion ; his cheek flushed and thin, his look ex- 
 cited and eager. 
 
 " And they actually said he would be here to- 
 
 VOL. T. 13
 
 194 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 nightj Whipple ? — the darling boy. Thank God — 
 thank Him for that great mercy /^ He was silent, 
 and one hand sought its fellow and pressed the 
 fingers as his face was turned towards heaven. 
 
 ^' Yes, indeed they did. Doctor. And Sir Philip 
 said to me — ' If he arrives to-night, and the squire 
 is not asleep, you may let the young gentleman 
 just come in to say good night, and go away again. 
 But tell my old friend,' said Sir Philip, ' V\\ be 
 Tery angry if he keeps him longer than that. It 
 will do neither of them any good.' '' 
 
 " What time did they say he would be here ? If 
 he comes by the day coach he is very nearly here 
 now" — he examined an old gold watch on the table 
 by his side. " Ah ! it will make me quite myself 
 the moment he comes.'' I heard his anxious in- 
 quiries — I could see his face — whilst Mrs. Whipple, 
 half turning to the door as if listening, with her 
 finger raised to impress on me the necessity of cau- 
 tion, controlled the situation. 
 
 Not long after that I was seated at his feet, with 
 my head on his knee, and his arms round my neck. 
 Alas ! one poor hand was gathered up and cold, the 
 fingers bent and stiff*, the arm numbed and scarce 
 capable of motion; his figure was inclined and 
 contracted at one side, his face rigid, and the
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 195 
 
 mouth curved downwards — tie spoke with diffi- 
 culty; but for me it was enough to be there — 
 to see him — to return the pressure of his hand, to 
 listen to the broken accents in which he spoke so 
 fondly. 
 
 The summer holidays were so near at hand by the 
 time the doctors considered my grandfather was 
 sufficiently recovered for the journey to Lough-na- 
 Carra, it was proposed to let me go back with him. 
 Was there ever a schoolboy who objected to a longer 
 holiday than he expected ? 
 
 " Dr. Ball sees not the least reason why he should 
 not go; and/^ added Sir Philip, *^ he seems to be of 
 more service to you than any of us.^^ 
 
 Every day, indeed, I had my visit to the familiar 
 room, and at last the old man was well enough to 
 get downstairs with a little help, and then, by de- 
 grees, he ventured on walking in the Square, leaning 
 on my arm — walking feebly with a painful effort. 
 A great change had taken place in him. We had 
 become more than friends. Ever since the eventful 
 cruise he seemed uneasy if I were away from his 
 side ; and a few minutes'' delay in my arrival put him, 
 as Mrs. Whipple said, " quite in a fluster.''^ We 
 were never so happy as when he was sitting in his 
 easy chair, whilst I was crouched on a stool at his 
 
 13—2
 
 196 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 feet reading some of my books^ conscious that his 
 eyes were resting on me^ and feeling his hand on 
 my shoulder. 
 
 The day of our return to Lough-na-Carra is 
 another of my memories. We posted down from 
 Dublin ; and as the postboy led out the horses for the 
 last stage, taking oif his cawbeen to my grandfather, 
 he exclaimed, " Long life to yer honour and to the 
 young masther ! They^re all expectin^ you in the 
 town, so they are. God knows the poor has missed 
 yer honour badly !" 
 
 And as we drew up to the " Desmond Arms,^^ there, 
 sure enough, were all the old people and the young 
 assembled in the street, and the bells of the church 
 were ringing, and the rector, and the priest, and the 
 curates were ready to welcome the Doctor, and 
 burst into a cheer as they saw his face in the 
 carriage ! But when he got down and limped 
 towards the Lough-na-Carra carriage through the 
 little crowd, silence came upon them, mingled with 
 that smart clack of the tongue and short sucking 
 of the breath which the Irish use to express pity and 
 surprise. He was altered indeed ! These little 
 marks of sympathy and regard were too much for 
 his enfeebled nerves ; and as his hand was shaken 
 by his neighbours and dependents, I felt his useless
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 197 
 
 arm quiver on mine, and saw the tears stealing 
 down his face. 
 
 " I thank you all, boys and girls, and you, my 
 kind, good friends. You see I have brought him 
 home with me; and there will be some fun in 
 Lough-na-Carra perhaps again when Fm a little 
 stronger.^^ 
 
 Amid the " Amens^^ of the people the old mare, 
 roused to unusual vivacity even for her by the 
 cuts of the whip which old Dan gave unconsciously 
 in his excitement, started off down the main street, 
 and we sat together on one side whilst Dan di- 
 rected his course amid pigs and children to the old 
 lodge, and whirled up to the hall door, where all 
 the servants were gathered on the steps to greet 
 their master. 
 
 I could not help feeling as if I were to blame, 
 and the secret compunction I experienced was 
 sharpened by the reproachful expression which I 
 fancied I could detect in the looks of the 
 neighbours.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 TRUTH AT LAST. 
 
 For a time it seemed as if the Doctor would re- 
 cover his health_, but the tokens of returning strength 
 passed away^ leaving him but a weak, uncomplaining 
 invalid. His face was restored to its usual outline ; 
 he could walk^ and use his arm, but his gait was 
 feeble and uncertain, and there was a vacant, 
 dreamy sadness in his look and expression. I ob- 
 served the servants were infected by this melan- 
 choly. Sometimes after the post came in my grand- 
 father would appear more depressed than ever, and 
 would stay in his room rummaging papers and 
 writing. Strange visitors came to the house, and 
 saw him privately and went away. The family 
 lawyer, Mr. Bates, stopped with us for several days, 
 and had long interviews with the attorney of Kil- 
 moyle and the land agent. The air was full of 
 mystery and some gloomy influence which settled on
 
 ADVENTURES OF DOCTOR BRADY. 199 
 
 us all; and oftentimes I could catch my grand- 
 father's eye resting on me with such solicitude and 
 compassion, that I was alarmed by the fears of an 
 indefinite calamity impending over me, which were 
 all the greater because of their vagueness. I used 
 to steal away to my little room and wonder what it 
 all meant, and look at the copy of my mother's pic- 
 ture over my bed, and then, under the ever-present 
 sentiment which governed so much of my life, creep 
 gently down to the great gaunt room, and gaze on 
 the original of the portrait of her whom, without 
 seeing or knowing, I so dearly loved. 
 
 It was one summer's afternoon, and my grand- 
 father sat after dinner with Mr. Bates — I had come 
 in from a ramble along the banks of the river, and 
 was passing through the hall — when I heard Mr. 
 Bates say, "I would tell him all about it at once. 
 He is old enough to know the truth. Call him in, 
 sir, and tell him. If you like, I ivill go out and 
 leave you." I stood at the door, my heart beating 
 violently, my lips open, my breast heaving. 
 
 My grandfather's voice was agitated and low. 
 
 " Yes, Bates ; he should know all before I 
 go. But why so soon ? Why cloud his years so 
 early ? Poor boy, he has trouble enough before 
 him."
 
 200 THE ADVENTUKES OF 
 
 I entered the room and said^ with as much calm- 
 ness as I could command, " Indeed, grandfather, I 
 could better bear anything than to see you ill, and 
 to suffer as I do from all kinds of fears. Try me, 
 and you will see how I will bear it. I am strong 
 and well ; and if there is anything to tell, I feel 
 it would do me good to know it now.^^ 
 
 My grandfather's face had a puzzled, undecided 
 expression. Mr. Bates sat, with his wine-glass to 
 his eye, looking at the sunset through the mellow 
 purple of the claret which half filled it. 
 
 ^' No doubt about it, my old friend ; Terence is 
 now going on for fourteen years of age — strong, and 
 tall of his years too. It will all come out sooner or 
 later ; and the boy has his own suspicions all is not 
 right as it is.'^ 
 
 '' Well ! well V sighed the old man ; " Terry, 
 go into my study and bring out my desk.''^ 
 
 The old brass-bound rosewood desk, over which 
 he sat so often, was before him in a moment. My 
 grandfather selected the key from the bunch that 
 hung from a black silk riband in his fob, opened 
 the desk, raised the lid, and then, touching a spring 
 which revealed a secret compartment, took out a 
 bundle of letters. His hand shook, and a strange 
 trown came to his brow, as he picked from the
 
 DOCTOR BEADY. 201 
 
 middle of tlie bundle a packet wrapped in oil-skin, 
 which he slowly uncovered and examined, as though 
 to make sure he was right. The contents were two 
 letters, discoloured and yellow, on which the black 
 wax of the broken seals was yet visible in patches ; 
 and I felt at once these letters were to me the solu- 
 tion of the mystery which had troubled me so long. 
 He held out one of the two. 
 
 " Before I give you this letter to read, I have a 
 few words to say. No, Bates — stay, if you please ; 
 you know all, and the poor boy will want your ad- 
 vice when I am no more. I would rather you 
 stayed, indeed. Take this letter, Terry, and see if 
 you can read the writing on the outside." 
 
 I took the letter in my hand, and saw, in a small 
 clear angular hand — " Dr. Brady, Bradystown 
 House, Lough-na-Carra, Kilmoyle, Ireland." In 
 the corner was written " M. B." On the top — '^'^To 
 be delivered, on arrival, by Mohun." I read the 
 address, and the Doctor resumed — 
 
 " That letter is from your mother, my child, the 
 widow of my son, your brave and unhappy father. 
 You have heard how he died in India, when you 
 were very young ; and you have heard, too, that 
 your mother was drowned on the coast of Ceylon, 
 when the ship in which she was coming to Europe
 
 202 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 after her husband^s death, struck on a reef of rocks. 
 I must go back a little. Your father was my only- 
 son. I had looked forward to the day when he 
 might take my place in this old house here, marry 
 one of his own people, and pass away in the arms 
 of his children, long after my bones had been laid 
 with those of our luckless race. Now I sit here, a 
 poor, broken, desolate old man, with only you to 
 comfort me, and all the hopes of my life lying in 
 his distant grave. He went to India with his regi- 
 ment after the usual routine of home service, and 
 in the war which we were carrying on there he dis- 
 tinguished himself, so that he got his captain^s 
 commission for service in the field; and every- 
 thing went so well with him I began really to 
 think — as you may remember. Bates — that there 
 was some gleam of good fortune in store for us, 
 and the thought set me working all the harder 
 to clear Lough-na-Carra for him, and to get the 
 property out of the difficulties which seem entailed 
 on the land. I needn^t trouble you with that yet, 
 Terry. From all sides I heard good accounts of 
 my poor boy — how gallant he was, how gentle and 
 good, how simple and how noble. Every one spoke 
 well of him, and my heart was filled with thankful- 
 ness to the Almighty who had so blessed me with
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 203 
 
 a son. Every letter that I got went to the Castle^ 
 where the eyes of Mary Desmond grew brighter as 
 they rested on the lines — every paper in which his 
 name appeared, and every account I heard of him, 
 found its way to the Castle ; for although the Des- 
 monds are great people now compared to us, it was 
 understood that there would be no objection to 
 your father^s marrying the lovely girl whom we all 
 believed he loved with an affection equal to her 
 own. Her father would not hear of a regular en- 
 gagement, nor would he let them correspond ; but 
 he always said he would make no objection to 
 the match. His son, the great Indian civilian, 
 wrote home to say there was not a finer fellow in 
 the service than Jack Brady, and that he heartily, 
 approved of the match of which he had heard. All 
 this time there was no promise on either side, but 
 there was an understanding which we all looked on 
 as certain. Where could he meet a girl so good, 
 so beautiful, so suited to him in every way as she 
 who remained at her father^s in this dull old place, 
 instead of going to balls and parties and enjoying 
 herself, and gracing the society of which she would 
 have been the highest charm, all on account of him? 
 I was quite happy then ; and even Dick Butler's 
 importunity, and his avowed determination to marry
 
 204 THE ADVENTUKES OF 
 
 his cousin Maiy^ and his reckless bets and restless 
 manoeuvres did not cause me a moment^s thought. 
 Oh ! how I counted the days for his return. His 
 time for leave would soon be up. One day — one 
 day — it was little more than two years before you 
 were born_, Terry — a letter came to me in that well- 
 known hand. It contained news which pained and 
 surprised me. Not a word had come to prepare 
 us for the news that your father was going to be 
 married, and here was a letter under his own hand 
 to say that he had met a young lady at a ball at 
 Cawnpore a short time previously, and that he was 
 happy to say they were just going to start for the 
 hills to spend the honeymoon — words could not do 
 justice to her exquisite beauty — she was the loveliest 
 being in India, and he was looked on as the 
 luckiest fellow in the service; true she had no 
 money, but her father was an old officer of long 
 standing; and then he went on to describe his hap- 
 piness, and the charms of this child of sixteen, 
 who was, he said, more like twenty years of age, 
 as she had been born and educated in India. A 
 paragraph in a newspaper confirmed this dreadful 
 surprise. I could not go near the Castle — the 
 thoughts of meeting Mary Desmond were too ter- 
 rible. But the poor girl knew as weU as I did
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 205 
 
 ■when the Indian letters arrived at the village, and 
 that evening, as I was thinking how I should break 
 the news, the wheels of her little pony-carriage 
 grated outside the hall door, and ere I could escape 
 she was standing with a blush and a smile on that 
 frank face, which reflected every feeling of a soul 
 in which there was no guile or shadow of turning. 
 Ah ! Bates — the torture and shame of that moment. 
 Her quick eye at once detected my agitation — one 
 hand was pressed against her heart as she put her 
 arm round my waist, and sinking her head on my 
 shoulder, whispered — ' Is he ill ? Tell me, or I 
 shall die/ Let me pass over that interview. She 
 would not be refused. I was in such a state of un- 
 easiness about her increasing agitation — unusual in 
 one generally so calm and collected — that in very 
 fear I broke the news to her by degrees, and she 
 heard it all with her face buried on my breast, and 
 her fair arms twined round me, with a sudden still- 
 ness which from the moment I commenced the story, 
 was only broken by my voice and the labouring of her 
 poor heart. When all was over, she asked me to 
 let her see the letter. I handed it to her, and 
 taking it from me she arose and walked with it to 
 the window, as the light was failing. At the end 
 my poor son had written — ' Tell Miss Desmond of
 
 206 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 my happiness^ and assure her how glad I shall be 
 to hear that some fortunate fellow has secured her 
 fair hand^ though I do not think any man is good 
 enough for her. I shall ever have the most 
 affectionate regard for my old playfellow, to whom 
 I hope some day to present my own sweet Mary/ 
 I could see she was deeply moved_, and the letter^ 
 which was pressed in her fingers, fell to the 
 ground. With averted face she held her hand to 
 me, and said — ' Dear Doctor, it is late ; I must get 
 back. Good night/ as she passed out into the 
 hall. In another moment I heard a heavy fall. 
 She had fainted — my poor girl ! But why am I 
 dwelling on these things ? She is among the 
 angels in heaven, far from all care and sorrow. 
 Dick Butler was as good a husband to her as it was 
 in his nature to be ; but when she died, after little 
 Mary^s birth, he went, as you and I know. Bates, 
 to the deuce at the rate of a hunt. Presently I 
 began to hear news from India I did not like at all. 
 Your father had scarcely ever cost me a penny ; but 
 now bills began to come in with excuses about the ex- 
 penses of house-fiirnishing and housekeeping. He 
 had to keep an establishment — his wife had been ac- 
 customed to live in great style, and all the rest of it. 
 There were accounts of his splendid entertainments.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 207 
 
 and of his wife^s balls, and parties, and jewels — of her 
 horses and plate — and poor Lough-na-Carra began 
 to feel it ; and the bills became larger instead of 
 smaller, and came oftener, nntil at last — my God ! 
 — I dreaded the mails. There was a change in his 
 letters I did not like : he was either reckless or 
 gloomy — he began to admit there were some little 
 motes in his sunbeam — that she really was careless 
 of money, and too fond of pleasure and admiration. 
 ' But,^ he added, ^ she is a mere child ; and really, 
 if I could take her to England to-morrow I would 
 put her to school, if I could, only for a certain 
 event which is coming off, and which makes me a 
 little anxious about her. These Indian-reared girls 
 are spoiled by native nurses, and when a girl is so 
 very remarkable as Mary for her loveliness, she is 
 apt to get a liking for admiration, and to make a 
 jealous, proud fellow like me rather unreasonable 
 and sulky now and then.^ I see you growing pale, 
 my dear Terry ; but it is best, as I have begun, that 
 you should know all. Bates, give him a glass of 
 wine; it will do him good, and enable him to get 
 through my story. Our correspondence became at last 
 not what it ought to be between father and son. 
 All my hopes and plans for the future — for his 
 sake, mind — were shattered, and at last I was
 
 208 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 obliged to write out that I could stand his demands 
 no longer — that I could afford still to let him have 
 £300 a-year, and the money for his majority, if he 
 wanted the latter; but that would leave nothing 
 for improvements, and but little for myself/^ 
 
 ^' Faith, and that^s true/' interrupted Mr. Bates ; 
 '' and the captain ought to have known it well 
 enough/^ 
 
 ^' Ah, well ! Bates, we must not be too hard on 
 him. Remember whom he had to deal with, and 
 how completely he was her slave. I confess, 
 when he wrote to ask me whether I could not 
 manage to send him his allowance for ten years 
 in a lump, as well as his majority — after I had 
 paid very nearly £4000 for him in the previous 
 year or so — I lost my temper. I refused point 
 blank; angry letters — some from him quite in- 
 coherent — passed, and at last a sullen silence, which 
 was finally broken in tears by the news of his 
 death.'^ The old man paused, and after a moment 
 went on, '^ You were born shortly before that. In 
 those days letters took months to travel between 
 here and India ; and when I heard you were born 
 my heart was softened, and our good friend there 
 raised some money, and I sent it out to your 
 father; but it arrived too late for any good pur-
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 209 
 
 pose, and was spent as so much before it had been. 
 The only comfort I had was, that just before the 
 news of his death I received a few lines, in a broken, 
 shaking hand, to make his peace; and I little 
 imagined they were to be his last, and that they 
 were written from his dying bed. In them he said, 
 indeed, that he longed to get away home, and that 
 his health had suffered a little ; but he feared he 
 could not arrange with the banks to leave India; 
 ' and if,^ added he, ^ I should be carried off here, it 
 is a consolation to think you will look after my 
 widow and the dear little fellow. Mary will need 
 some one with a very resolute temper to deal with 
 her. She cannot understand we are not all as rich 
 as some of her native nabobs and rajahs, or as some 
 foolish young officers appear to be, because they run 
 riot and get smashed in a few years ; and it will do 
 her good to see how English ladies bring up their 
 famihes.^ Ah, my boy, it is a sad story, and it 
 grows sadder still.^^ He paused again, and looked 
 at Mr. Bates, who sat silent at the table, with 
 one hand across his brow, in the gathering shades 
 of the summer evening. " You perceive, Terry, 
 I knew nothing of your mother — nothing ex- 
 cept what the picture he sent us told ; and when it 
 came home with your father's, it was easy to com- 
 VOL. I. 14
 
 210 THE ADVENTUKES OF 
 
 prehend how such a face had led the dear fellow to 
 forget everything else. Then came the intelligence 
 of his death /^ 
 
 My grandfather ceased,, and the tears trickled 
 down his cheek beneath his thin hand. There was 
 silence for a time, then he continued. " The last 
 news I had was from your father^s agent to say that 
 he had secured a passage for your mother, and her 
 infant (yourself), and her servants, and that he had 
 drawn upon me for £300 to cover the expenses ; 
 that his effects, such as they were, would be sold, but 
 that there were many claims, which it would need a 
 large sum of money to meet, of which he would send 
 particulars in due course. I will not trouble you with 
 all that part of a subject, which is quite pain- 
 ful enough as it is. God knows how I watched the 
 days as the time drew near when I might expect 
 your mother and her little one. It is now nearly 
 twelve years since that time. At last you came, 
 but not your mother " 
 
 " Ah, I know, she was drowned — my poor darling 
 mother V' I interrupted. 
 
 " Don^t distress me, Terry. It is hard enough 
 as it is. Oh, Bates ! how am I to go on ? Well, 
 well, it must be done. Terry, take that letter and 
 read it, and heaven comfort you, my dear, dear boy.'^
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 211 
 
 The old man raised his hands and covered his face^ 
 leaning his elbows on the table. 
 
 The letter he gave me was_, as I have said, dis- 
 coloured and yellow, and the ink was pale, but the 
 writing was so bold and sharp that when I went 
 to the window I could read it without diflQculty. It 
 ran thus : — 
 
 " The Boss-sliire Indiaman, at sea, May 18th. 
 
 " My dear Father-in-law, — You have been pre- 
 pared for the intelligence of poor dear Jack^s death, 
 and how I and my child are coming to live with you,, 
 as he desired. Since I came on board I have been 
 very sick, but I am now better. We have got very 
 nice people on board. Jack left me very badly off;, 
 and I have been obliged to borrow, oh, ever so much 
 rupees; but that is of no matter. What I am 
 thinking of is seriously that I ought not to have 
 come away at all. You know my marriage was a 
 very unfortunate one for me. I could have had the 
 best possible matches ; but I loved your son so much 
 I did not mind anything j and being young and in- 
 experienced, I never could have supposed he would 
 have proposed for me unless he was quite able to 
 keep up a good establishment. Tt turned out he 
 was quite poor; and oh, you cannot imagine how 
 
 14—2
 
 212 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 I have suffered ! And latterly, when he took to drink- 
 ing too much brandy pawnee, and grumbled dread- 
 fully, my life was miserable ; and I was afraid to 
 speak to any one lest he should quarrel with him. 
 You see, I tell you everything, although I have seen 
 such cross letters of yours to him when he only 
 asked for money that was really wanted. My son 
 Terence is a very pretty little fellow, but the ayah 
 tells me he has quite a shocking temper; and 
 though I whip him a good deal he gets more vio- 
 lent, and I am obliged to keep away from him, not 
 to get cross and fret myself. And now, dear Doctor 
 Brady, what I am coming to is this : I am sure I 
 shall not like Ireland or England. My health 
 already suffers, for I am very delicate and dread- 
 fully sensitive. Well, then, why should you not 
 allow me, say, rupees 600 a month, and take my 
 dear little son, and educate him until he grows up ? 
 I would stay in India somewhere. I have plenty of 
 friends ; and Captain Eraser, who is coming down 
 to Madras, says he can get me very nicely intro- 
 duced among his friends and some nice people at 
 Hyderabad. I think I shall leave the ship at Galle, 
 in Ceylon, where we are going to touch, and send 
 on little Terry and his own servants to you till I 
 know what you think. I am an odd kind of crea-
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 213 
 
 ture^ and would upset your house very much ; but 
 if you wish to have me home for a time^ of course 
 I shall go to you; and perhaps it may be necessary 
 for me to do so, in order to sign papers and things 
 to secure my annuity. I am told you must have 
 lawyers to make what I propose quite legal and 
 binding on your property, though Captain Eraser 
 says the best way is to pay the whole into bank 
 at once. I shall be eighteen in two months ; and 
 any of the insurance offices can calculate, he says, 
 what £700 a-year would be worth at that time of 
 life. Under all the circumstances, I think it will 
 be best for me to forfeit the passage-money and 
 land at Madras or Galle till I hear from you. My 
 address will be to the care of Colville and Arbuth- 
 not, Madras, as I do not want Macknight, my hus- 
 band^s agent, who is a very troublesome sort of man^ 
 to carry on my business. You must excuse so 
 many shakes in my hand, as the ship is not quite 
 steady at times. I should like Terry, I think, to go 
 into the army when he grows up. His great rela- 
 tions abroad would get him on. 
 
 " Hoping yet to have the pleasure of seeing you, 
 I beg you to believe me, 
 
 " Your most affectionate daughter, 
 
 " Mary Brady,
 
 214 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 " Postscriptum. — Jack always promised me a set 
 of diamond and pearl court ornaments which you 
 have belonging to his dear mother. They will reach 
 me safely if sent to Colville and Arbuthnot_, Madras,, 
 through their agents of the same name in Hart-lane, 
 City of London. By this mail you will receive a 
 good many bills and accounts which my poor dear 
 husband could not settle ; and I shall have, if I stay 
 at Madras or Galle, to write an order on you for 
 a few thousand rupees, just to pay expenses. Mohun 
 has some things for you, and my pet monkey. 
 Please make Terry always remember he is a gentle- 
 man ; for I am told that Ireland is a very odd sort 
 of place. Poor Jack was quite an exception to the 
 people there generally, I am told. But he had his 
 faults.— M.B." 
 
 I read the letter with the intensest interest, little 
 heeding the low whistles and phews which came at 
 intervals from Mr. Bates, or the drumming of my 
 grandfather^s fingers on the table ; and then I looked 
 up and said, '^ Poor mamma was drowned after she 
 wrote this. You see, grandpapa, how fond she was 
 of me. I am almost the last person she speaks of, 
 except papa.-*^ 
 
 My grandfather raised his head and looked at me
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 215 
 
 with a curious stare. He then gazed across the table 
 at Mr. Bates_, who only filled his glass again^ and said 
 softly, " Good lad ! good lad ! Why shouldn't he 
 say so ?" 
 
 My grandfather stretched out his hand, took up 
 the letter, and returned it to the bundle. Selecting 
 another letter from those which lay before him, 
 still with the same expression on his face^ he said, 
 c( Terry, read this next.'' 
 
 It was dated " Madras, May 23rd." 
 
 " My dearest Father-in-law, — Since I wrote to 
 you I have been thinking more and more of what 
 I said, and I have made up my mind not to go to 
 Europe. I am sure you will see I am right, and 
 that you will make the provision I propose for your 
 dear son's poor unfortunate widow. I can live very 
 well here in the way I am accustomed to at what 
 Captain Eraser tells me would not be enough to 
 have even the ordinary necessaries of life in Europe. 
 The little boy will not miss me. When he grows 
 up, of course he will come out here; and if you 
 could get him into poor dear Jack's regiment I 
 could look after him. As there are a number of 
 ladies on board, I am not going to tell any one when 
 I go on shore to-night. They arc all spiteful old
 
 216 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 things^ full of ' gup/ as we say, or scandal ; and I 
 am going to play them a trick which will amuse 
 you. There is a sergeant^s wife who is a steerage 
 passenger, and it is arranged she is to come to my 
 cabin and take my place till the trick is discovered. 
 I have not been on deck more than once or twice, 
 and a little money goes a long way with these sort 
 of people, so that not a word will be said. I ought 
 not to disguise from you that Captain Fraser wishes, 
 when a proper time has passed, to make me his 
 wife, provided that you carry out my proposal, as 
 no doubt you will. It is the best thing I could do. 
 He has already lent me money, which I told you I 
 wanted. To prevent any mischief from the tongues 
 of the idle creatures who are jealous of my good 
 looks. Captain Eraser will go on to Galle, and will 
 visit Mrs. Lynnett, the sergeant^s wife, in my cabin, 
 as if it was I ; but he is to come back to Madras as 
 soon as possible ; and if I am not quite comfort- 
 able there, I shall go to Hyderabad, where he has a 
 sister married. My only pang is parting with my 
 son, and not seeing you. But we will all three 
 meet some time. The ship is off Madras in the 
 roads ; I must get ready for my plot. All the ser- 
 vants are delighted, as I shall let them come in 
 different boats on shore, and only the ayah, !Meetum,
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 217 
 
 and Mohun^ will go on with Terry. Mohun is to 
 stay and watch Terry. Send out the money^ or as 
 much as you can, at once. 
 
 " Your affectionate daughter, 
 ^^ With a thousand kisses, 
 
 '' Mary Brady. 
 
 " P.S. — I am very anxious to hear from you. Be 
 sure you let me know how Terry looks when he 
 arrives. I can wear the diamonds and pearls in 
 mourning out here j so it will be as well to let me 
 have them soon/^ 
 
 I followed every word as closely as I could ; but 
 it was impossible to understand it. A hundred 
 different thoughts flew through my head in a moment. 
 My eyes rested on the letter without noting the 
 words j but somehow or other there was rising up in 
 my mind the image of a frivolous, mercenary 
 woman, who was about to abandon her child, 
 and who was already contemplating — whilst her 
 husband, of whom she had written so slightingly, 
 was scarcely cold in his grave — a marriage with a 
 stranger. Could this be the mother whose image 
 
 had been to me scarcely less sacred than 1 could 
 
 not dwell on the thought. There was silence in the 
 room ; the two old men sat in the shade at the
 
 218 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 table^ whilst I stood at the window to catch the 
 light just vanishing into darkness. " Then_, grand- 
 papa^ where was it mamma was drowned ? and what 
 is the meaning of all this ? I have looked at the 
 map over and over again,, and I can^t understand 
 it. My mother was ^vrecked after this, wasn^t 
 she r' 
 
 My grandfather got up from his chair and came 
 to my side ; he put his hand on my shoulder and 
 said in a low voice, " I would have kept you ig- 
 norant of the truth, which is known to very few of 
 us here. It is no wonder you cannot see into such 
 a dark story. Your mother, my dear boy — grieved 
 am I to say it — was not worthy of your father, and 
 is not worthy of your love. Do not start or shrink 
 from the truth. They say she is naturally very 
 clever ; but in these letters there is as much folly 
 as heartlessness. She ruined your father, and in his 
 ruin involved me and you, my poor fellow. Now, 
 do you not see that it was not your mother who 
 was swept away by that wave when the Ross-shire's 
 decks were deluged by the sea V 
 
 " And where, then, is my mother T' I cried. 
 ^^ What became of her ? Why did she not come 
 home to us T' 
 
 ^' Your tears distress me, Terry. "V^Tiy fix your
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 219 
 
 thoughts on one who never cared for you, or showed 
 the smallest particle of affection? Your mother 
 left Calcutta with the deliberate intention of aban- 
 doning you for ever. She fled to escape her credi- 
 tors, and, as it seems, too plainly — you must know 
 how your grandfather, who loves you, feels as he tells 
 you this — with the purpose of flying with one who 
 was her lover ere she married your father — a needy, 
 dissolute man. She managed to get on shore at 
 Madras unobserved — your mother could pass, I am 
 told, for a native woman anywhere, and was an 
 adept in disguises ; her greatest talent, indeed, was 
 displayed on the stage, and in private theatricals 
 she made the most startling impression. At all 
 events, she went on shore at Madras, as I have said, 
 and then came the gale at sea which drove the 
 ship out of her course, so that she struck on the 
 rocks and was all but lost. The poor woman 
 who took her place was among those who perished 
 as she rushed out of the cabin. There was great 
 confusion on board ; and when the Ross-shire^ in a 
 sinking state, got into Galle harbour, the passen- 
 gers left her, and not much notice was taken of the 
 fate of the poor sergeant^s wife, whilst every one 
 spoke of your mother^s melancholy death. It was 
 best to let it be thought so. Surely the Providence
 
 220 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 of God works marvels to our eyes ! I cannot but 
 feelj however, there is a compensation to all our 
 grief in the escape you have had from the influence 
 of such a woman. I do not ask you to restrain 
 your sorrows. I know how rudely the tendrils of 
 your young heart must be torn by the tale I have 
 to tell, and how fondly you cherished the memory 
 of that unfortunate woman ; but you will cease to 
 regret or to think of her ; you must banish so un- 
 worthy a mother and wife from your thoughts, or 
 think of her as one who is indeed lost to you — ^lost 
 in a death of shame. A thousand times better had 
 it been for her and you and us all had she been 
 borne to her grave beneath the waters, than live to 
 work mischief and revel in her deceit and guilt. 
 These are hard words, my son ; but they are gentle 
 words for her conduct to me and mine — to the 
 name she bore. Again I say, Terry, banish her 
 from your thoughts. She has wrought misery and 
 sorrow enough in our house; but now it would 
 seem as if she had vanished, or as if she has sunk 
 into some depth where our eyes had best not strive 
 to follow her.^^ 
 
 " She is still alive ?" I asked — the word " mother^' 
 could not now be formed by my lips ; I felt cold 
 and sick at heart — " she is still alive somewhere in
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 221 
 
 the world ? Yoii cannot now refase to tell me ! 
 Where is she now ? — oh ! where V 
 
 " The last news I heard of the woman was^ that 
 she was Imng at the court of one of the native 
 princes in India^ still beautiful,, and still busy in 
 intrigue and mischief. Unhappy creature ! She 
 has passed through a world of adventure, and has 
 been traced under a variety of names ; but in her 
 letters to me she has always persisted in claiming 
 our name.^^ 
 
 ^^But if she married Captain Fraser, why does 
 she not call herself after his name V^ 
 
 " Alas, my dear Terry, you probe too deeply for 
 your own peace. Captain Eraser, as I told you, 
 was needy and dissolute. He was well connected — 
 by marriage a cousin of the Desmonds, and by blood 
 allied with some of the great Scotch families which 
 rule in India. Well, when he found that I would 
 not accede to the modest request of my daughter- 
 in-law, he thought perhaps that it would be a use- 
 less and dangerous experiment to marry so extrava- 
 gant a woman. At all events, he married a very 
 plain, delicate — but, as I have heard, very amiable — 
 girl, who came out to India to her father, a great 
 civilian, and who had a large fortune.''^ 
 
 " By-the-by, I hear that Mr. Desmond has taken
 
 222 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 their daughter to live with him/' interrupted Mr. 
 Bates. " Where is Colonel Eraser since the row V 
 
 " He is somewhere in what they call the Deccan_, I 
 hear. When Malcolm died all his money went 
 to Mrs. Eraser ; after her death it was found 
 Eraser could not touch a penny of it^ for every 
 farthing was settled on her daughter most rigidly, 
 and then went away to distant relations^ except a 
 considerable sum to his friend Desmond.^' 
 
 ^^ Miss Eraser will be well off, Doctor/^ observed 
 Mr. Bates ; " only for Mary Butler, Desmond would 
 adopt her ; if Sir Richard does not marry,, she might 
 own the Castle estates, and Kilmoyle, instead of 
 poor Mary. And then. Doctor, w^ho knows ? She 
 might take a fancy to Terry, and the land would 
 go back into the old hands.'' 
 
 " It is a charming fancy sketch, Bates. You are 
 better fitted to be a poet than an attorney. I have 
 too many realities, and sad ones, to indulge in any 
 dreams of the future with the least ray of light in 
 them." 
 
 " Oh, sir, if you knew how dark my future looks 
 too," I sobbed. "My dreams are gone indeed. 
 But I tell you, grandfather, that I will never be 
 satisfied till I see her face to face, and let her ex- 
 plain what has passed."
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 223 
 
 " See her !" exclaimed the old man^ almost 
 angrily ; " see her after what you have heard ! 
 Why, only I thought it would be needless,, I was 
 about to ask you to promise me solemnly, if at any 
 future time of your life you should be near her, to 
 shun that woman as you would the Evil One/^ 
 
 " She is my mother, sir," I interrupted. 
 
 ^' But I tell you, Terence, she is as dangerous as 
 she is bad. Do you know that, far distant as she 
 is from us, for years she was plotting against you, 
 or rather I believed she was, whereas her real 
 object was to extort money from me by working on 
 my fears. She declared she would come over and claim 
 her child — that she had witnesses to prove all the 
 stories I had heard of her were false — that her hus- 
 band^s last will and his last words were, that she was 
 to have charge of you ; and she raked up all kinds 
 of accusations against the dead man's memory, 
 which at least she would have dragged before the 
 public. She employed Mohun as her spy in my 
 house, and had minute accounts of everything which 
 passed till I sent him away. I am now quite satis- 
 fied,^' he continued, angrily, " that some of the 
 large sums I paid after your father's death were on 
 forgeries, for in addition to her arts of imitation, she 
 can copy handwriting so as to defy all but the
 
 224 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 minutest inspection. Terence/' lie exclaimed, pas- 
 sionately, " if you ever speak to her — should you, as 
 is most unlikely, ever meet — you will disobey my 
 last injunction to you, and you will dishonour your 
 father's memory/' 
 
 The servant bringing in lights silenced me as 
 I was about to fly into a wild, passionate vindica- 
 tion. I could only sob in silence. 
 
 We sat at table, and my grandfather, after a 
 pause, continued — 
 
 " You know well enough I would not advise you 
 to do anything unbecoming a son. When you are 
 a little older, and can understand what she has done 
 clearly, you will feel my advice is right. But it is 
 not likely you will ever see her. You will all your 
 life, however, have to endure the consequences of 
 her acts. All the efforts I was making to clear 
 off the encumbrances from my poor estate for my 
 son, and you after him, have been made of no avail, 
 and we are more deeply in debt than ever. One of 
 her constant threats was that she would get you 
 carried away from me ; and she actually took steps 
 to frighten me into the belief she was in earnest. 
 You remember. Bates, my writing to you about the 
 two fellows who stopped at the ' Desmond Arms' 
 one night, and made so many inquiries after Terry's
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 225 
 
 movements, and who came from Galway and went 
 back there ?' 
 
 " Faith, I do, Doctor ; but I told you if it meant 
 anything at all it was to screw some more money 
 out of you. Terry would have made a large bundle 
 for them to carry off, and I wouldn^t give much 
 for their lives if you raised the county on them. 
 I daresay you would have made a fight, and 
 used your voice if not your fists, Terry ?" 
 
 " Perhaps you were right. Bates ; but anyway, I 
 confess I have a terror of the woman with whom I 
 battled in secret for so many years. She was quite 
 capable of getting an injury done to him to injure 
 me and to have her revenge. It was my fear of 
 something of the kind made me send him to school, 
 for there I knew he would be less accessible — he 
 would have boys always around him. Ah ! Bates, 
 my heart sank within me when I got Dr. BalFs 
 letter telling me of the terrible cruise. I cannot 
 feel he is safe when he is out of my sight even now. 
 I am full of vague, nervous fears ; all I pray is 
 to live till he is able to protect himself.^^ 
 
 " Well, Doctor, it seems as if he was pretty near 
 that stage already. I will bid you good night 
 now. It is quite obvious you have done what is 
 right. Keep what you have heard to yourself my 
 
 VOL. I. 15
 
 226 ADVENTURES OF DOCTOR BRADY. 
 
 young friend — there is no use in telling all the 
 world ; and I believe, for the matter of that, a good 
 many people have suspicions about that drowning, 
 and that in India, at all events, there is a good part 
 of the story known. But people wont bother their 
 heads about it. It's not the boy's fault, and these 
 things are soon forgotten. Good night ; we will 
 have another look into these serious affairs to- 
 morrow and see what can be done. I must 
 take the night mail to Dublin ; but I hope we can 
 strike out some way of arranging matters for you. 
 my dear old friend."
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE BANSHEE. 
 
 When Mr. Bates withdrew, my grandfather re- 
 mained deep in thought for a moment_, and then 
 called me over to him. 
 
 " You see in this desk, Terence, are all the letters, 
 relating to yourself, your poor father, and her of 
 whom we have now been speaking — in fact, all that 
 relates to your sad story, to her exactions and frauds, 
 and to the money that has been torn from me. 
 They are in this secret drawer — it closes so ; put 
 your finger there and press. See, it opens ! Here, 
 again, are documents and deeds connected with the 
 property, such as it is. Bates has the leases and 
 all that kind of thing. This is a duplicate key, 
 and I give it to you to keep. Never let it leave 
 your possession. You can when you arc old 
 enough examine the papers in my desk, and read 
 and think for yourself. So now take it back to the 
 
 15 — 2
 
 228 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 study, and ring tlie bell for the servants. You 
 must read prayers for them to-night, as I am tired 
 and want to go to bed ; but come in and bid me 
 good night as usual/^ 
 
 It was ten o^clock, and the bell rang for prayers. 
 Only two of the servants were Protestants ; but an 
 old crone who, long past her work, spent her days 
 by the kitchen fire, and slept in the gardener's 
 house, named Biddy Daly, was accustomed to ac- 
 company them to the parlour in order to give vent 
 to her groans and moans, and to have a look at the 
 " young masther,'^ as she termed my grandfather, and 
 " Masther Jack's child," and to make a formal state- 
 ment on the subject of her rheumatiz to the Doctor 
 — indeed, she was wont to waylay him at all hours, 
 and in unexpected places for that purpose, and no 
 menaces or repression shook her intrepidity of soul 
 or her courage in communicating the latest infor- 
 mation concerning her bodily health, under all cir- 
 cumstances and at all times. Even the interference 
 of the priest, which was brought to bear in a 
 friendly manner by a little intrigue between him 
 and his old friend, did not deter Biddy from the 
 " parlour prayers for the Protesdans,'' as she called 
 them. 
 
 " It's not to listen to their prayers, poor cray-
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 22^ 
 
 chers — the Virgin between ns and liarm ! — your 
 reverence, I goes ; but shure, wbin I^m racked wid 
 the pains Vye got in sarvin^ the family, the laste 
 the young masther can do is to ordher poor ould 
 Biddy some stuff. I always take some holy wather 
 in wid me for fear of the divil, and ses me own. 
 Pather and Avey afore I go to bed — indeed I do, . 
 your reverence/^ 
 
 When Biddy saw me sitting with the Prayer- - 
 book before me, and that the Doctor had retired, she 
 expressed her feeling of displeasure A'cry audibly, 
 and lamenting, with several ochones, that " I nivir 
 can see the young masther, and me worse than iver 
 to-night — me bottle of stuff all tuk, too. It^s little 
 good yer prayers '11 do me this night,'^ crawled out 
 of the room again. 
 
 I read the service for my little congregation, and 
 taking up my candle whilst the servants were fas- 
 tening up doors and windows, went softly to the 
 room in which hung the picture I had regarded, 
 with such indescribable affection till that moment. 
 The apartment was in darkness, but by holding the 
 candle over my head I caught the face, whilst the 
 greater part of the painting was but partly visible. 
 How lovely ! how innocent ! how pure ! I had ever 
 deemed it before. But now, as I looked, the eyes.
 
 230 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 in their cold dreaminess, had a glitter like that 
 which filled the orbs of the tiger-cat with which she 
 was playing — the lips seemed bitter and cruel — and 
 the attitude in which she was lying, her dress, and all 
 the luxurious accessories of the painting, belonged, 
 in my mind, to a frivolous, extravagant woman, 
 heartless as the wall against which it rested. There 
 was a positive fascination in the steady, sleepy smile 
 of the eyes, and lowering my candle, with a shudder 
 I mounted the stairs to my grandfather^s bed-room. 
 He was in bed, apparently reading by the light of 
 his lamp, the curtains drawn on the side next the 
 door, so that he did not perceive my entrance or 
 hear my footsteps. A large Bible was open on his 
 reading-stand ; but I observed that his eyes were 
 half Closed, as il he were engaged in thought, and 
 that his lips were moving, as though he were 
 speaking to himself. At last he opened his 
 eyes, and seeing me, said, with his usual 
 smile — 
 
 " Ah ! there you are, Terry. Come to bid me 
 good night. It's nearly time, or you will lose your 
 beauty sleep. Well, and how did you get on ? I 
 wish you had prescribed for old Biddy in place of 
 me. She actually crept upstairs here, and only I 
 threatened her with the watch- stand as she put her
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 231 
 
 Lead througli the curtains, the old nuisance woidd 
 have commenced her litany as usual/^ 
 
 " Biddy came into the parlour, but she vanished 
 when she saw you were not there, and I thought she 
 went down the kitchen stairs." 
 
 " I really must have her brought to her senses, 
 if she has any. Do you know, Terry, I have been 
 having most curious waking dreams : talking so 
 much of a certain subject has filled my poor old 
 brain full of fancies, and as soon as I had banished 
 old Biddy, others took her place." 
 
 " Others ! What do you mean, grandfather ?" 
 
 "Well, I can scarcely say, in my half-dozing 
 state. The curtain appeared to open, and a face 
 like that — you know — below stairs looked in at me ; 
 but, of course, when I roused myself it was gone. 
 The idea was not pleasant, for the look of the lady- 
 visitor was not at all amiable. All this means, 
 Terry, an excited nervous system, and a good deal 
 of indigestion, and you shall hand me over that 
 medicine chest and give me one of my famous 
 ' composers' before you go." 
 
 I had walked towards the escritoire in which the 
 chest was, when my attention was attracted by an 
 exclamation from my grandfather, and a whispered 
 cry. " Terry, look ! — look ! there it is again."
 
 232 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 As I turned towards the bed the curtains 
 were just closing, as if some one who had drawn 
 them aside let them go ! But I had a glimpse 
 of something like a face, and a pair of hands 
 clasped together, inside the bed ere the folds- 
 met together. Never doubting that it was old Biddy 
 who had come to persecute " the masther/^ as 
 she had been very troublesome lately, and regarded 
 his illness as a personal wrong to herself rather than 
 to him, I took up my candle and sprang swiftly 
 round the bed. There was no one in the room ! 
 The door was slightly ajar ; I went out on the land- 
 ing, peered over the banisters — not a creatui'e visible. 
 The voice of my grandfather called me back. " Well, 
 and have you caught the culprit ?^^ he asked. '* Give 
 her a good shaking and have her locked up in her 
 room to-night." 
 
 " But Biddy's not there. She's not on the stairs 
 or anywhere I could see." 
 
 " You saw the old woman yourself, didn't you ?" 
 
 " I saw somebody, certainly, as if the curtains had 
 been opened and let fall again. It must be Biddy." 
 
 My grandfather seemed a little agitated. 
 
 " Go down," said he, " and see if the servants 
 are all in bed. Tell the cook to look if Biddy is in 
 her room."
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 233 
 
 I did as I was directed^ and in a few minutes re- 
 turned with a paler face_, to say — " Old Biddy was 
 fast asleep in bed^ where she has been, they say, for 
 the last hour ; and not one of the servants has been 
 upstairs." 
 
 " Then the only thing I can think of, Terry," 
 he replied, with a faint smile, " is that we 
 have both seen the Banshee. I believe there 
 is a lady of that description who does this branch 
 of the family the honour of attending on them 
 when in periculo. At all events, I shall take 
 my composer ; and you, my dear boy, wilj, I hope, 
 sleep away all your troubles and cares under the 
 protection of Him who will shield you from all 
 danger, as long as you seek His grace and pro- 
 tection." 
 
 I went over to the escritoire, took the medicine- 
 chest, and was coming back with it towards the table 
 — ^my grandfather had turned round in bed to screen 
 the light from his eyes — the lamp shone full on the 
 folds of the heavy grey curtains between me and 
 the door — I was as collected and as sensible as I 
 am now when, with pen in hand, in the light 
 of day, and in possession of my senses, I record what 
 happened. 
 
 The curtain opened a little way — two thin
 
 234 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 white arms and handsj with interlaced fingers, 
 were lifted up over the bed through the open- 
 ing, and I saw a pale face, with fair or white 
 hair falling over the shoulders, bent down as if 
 the eyes were fixed on the old man. The hands 
 unlocked thrice, and were clasped together again 
 with a slow waving motion, as if in sorrow or 
 distress, and then the apparition vanished ! Not a 
 Avord came from my grandfather's lips. I stood 
 rooted to the spot. The appearance was so sudden, 
 that ere I could do more than utter a smothered 
 ejaculation of terror, it was gone ! The cry aroused 
 my grandfather, who had been lying with closed 
 <3yes, and he looked round and asked, " What is the 
 matter now, Teny V With more presence of mind 
 and self-control than I had thought myself capable 
 ■of exerting, I said, " Oh, nothing, sir. I nearly let 
 the case fall ;'' and indeed my hands were shaking 
 as if with an ague fit. 
 
 Putting down the case on the table, I ran swiftly 
 towards the door, candle in hand, looked over the 
 banisters, into the hall, up and down the cor- 
 ridor, behind the big clock, examined all the doors 
 on the landing, and was back almost ere the cur- 
 tains had ceased to ^dbrate. 
 
 To no eye but mine had the figure been visible ; or
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 235 
 
 at least, if my grandfather saw it, he kept his own 
 counsel. But he said very calmly, " It is time for 
 you to go to bed indeed. There ; now let us see 
 what my composer will do. I have strange fancies 
 in my head, and am haunted by that wretched old 
 Biddy, who has set one of her kindred witches to 
 persecute me.''^ 
 
 I kissed the old mane's brow, turned down 
 his lamp, and fled along the passage to my own 
 room, locked the door, and throwing myself on 
 my knees, implored the mercy and protection of 
 heaven. My pulse was beating wildly, and I almost 
 cried aloud with terror as I rose from my knees, for 
 the copy of " the" picture above my little bed seemed 
 to move, and the face, to my disordered senses, 
 assumed an expression of animation, and a smile of 
 derision curled the opening lips. I gazed at the 
 canvas steadily, and perceived that I was distracted 
 by imaginary terrors ; but somehow or other I 
 could not bear the thought that these eyes would be 
 on me at night staring in the leaden look which the 
 copyist had conveyed to them, and so I got up, and 
 with great difficulty unhooked the frame and turned 
 the face to the wall. I was a great strong lad ; I 
 had no superstitious fears, no morbid fancies, except 
 those which were connected with my brooding over
 
 236 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 the absent mother I had indeed lost at last ; but 
 somehow or other there was upon me a terror — a 
 seeret horror, indescribable, profound — at what I 
 had seen. Was I awake ? Could I doubt the e^-i- 
 dence of my senses ? Had not my grandfather seen 
 it too ? But he was weak, nervous, and excited. 
 Was I quite sure I was not led away by my own 
 vivid fancy to believe in the repetition of a sick 
 man^s dream ? I could not bear to blow out the 
 light; and as it flickered in the currents of air 
 which sympathized with the rising storm, the 
 shadows on the wall begat new terrors. My 
 head was throbbing; I heard the beatings of my 
 own heart as though some one was thumping 
 the pillow on which I lay. The muttering of 
 the thunder and the flashes of lightning which 
 now flitted through the shutters were a welcome 
 distraction. As the storm rolled towards the 
 house, and the rain beat against the glass, I felt 
 more at ease. But sleep would not visit my eyelids. 
 There came on me a lethargy, in which I dreamt as 
 I lay awake. It seemed as if I could look out into 
 the corridor through wall and door, and that I could 
 see where my grandfather lay asleep. His slum- 
 bers were agitated : his hands played about with the 
 coverlet, and his arms were now and then lifted
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 237 
 
 in the air as lie tossed on his uneasy bed. Suddenly 
 I beheld;, growing out of the shadow of the door of 
 his roonij which was opened by an invisible hand, a 
 shape which waved like a vapour in the faint light 
 of the night-lamp. It gathered form and sub- 
 stance as I gazed — a woman^s face, of ghastly pallor, 
 peering with weeping eyes through masses of white 
 hair, and outstretched arms raised as if in anguish. 
 A crashing peal of thunder shook the house, a cry 
 of agony, which pierced the deep roar of the angry 
 heavens, came from the corridor ! In a second I 
 was awake. I had thrown off the nightmare, and 
 unlocked my door and rushed out into the pas- 
 sage with the candle in my hand. Mr. Bates, in his 
 nightshirt, was standing at his bedroom door with a 
 light in the cuiTcnt. 
 
 " Did you hear a scream, Terry — did you cry out 
 just at the last clap of thunder ?"''' 
 
 '^ Oh, su', I^m so glad you are awake. Come to 
 grandfather^s room. I fear something has happened.^' 
 
 For aU my agitation, it did not escape me that 
 the door which I had shut as I came away was now 
 half open. 
 
 In a moment all was told. My grandfather 
 was lying as if he had been trying to rise, and 
 had fallen back on his pillow ! I had never seen
 
 238 ADVENTURES OF DOCTOR BRADY. 
 
 death yet; but as I gazed on the face before 
 me, I knew the Conqueror had been there. The 
 old man^s eyes were open, looking straight into 
 space; his jaw had fallen, and a little stream 
 of blood trickled slowly from his lip upon the 
 pillow ; the hand of one arm was clenched as if 
 in anger across his heart, the other still held the 
 curtain in its gripe.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 OUT ON THE WORLD. 
 
 Oh^ how I welcomed the day as its first streaks- 
 lighted the waters of the lake ! The night was too 
 full of terrors. Mr. Bates sat beside me in the 
 parlour^ trying to comfort me. There was no 
 sound in the house^ save the creaking of the boards 
 as the servants busied themselves in arranging the 
 room in which the dead man lay. Dr. Brophy had 
 already seen him ; there could be no doubt of the 
 cause of death. Apoplexy had stricken the old man, 
 " caused/'' said the doctor^ ^' probably by undue exer- 
 tion before he was recovered from his last serious at- 
 tack." When the servants were summoned by Mr. 
 Bates and myself, they all concurred in stating they 
 heard a loud cry — '^'yell/^ the housekeeper said — 
 just as the last great peal of thunder made the rooms 
 quiver ; indeed,, they Avere nearly all awake, and 
 the maids were cowering together in their room
 
 240 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 at the time. Old Biddy, whom I sent one of 
 them to look for, was found fast asleep in spite 
 of her ailments ; and the gardener declared " she 
 was snorin^ as if she was strivin'' to bate the 
 thunder/^ 
 
 I told Mr. Bates what I had seen. He 
 shook his head, and said, " My boy, you have gone 
 through too much ; I must get the doctor to have 
 a look at you. See here, Terry; your grand- 
 father's old and faithful servant will take charge of 
 the house, and see everything done that is neces- 
 sary. I will take on myself to give the orders 
 needed; but I must go to Dublin to-night. You 
 can do no good fretting and moping here ; and as I 
 know I am one of your guardians, I must begin to 
 use my power. Nay, my boy, I will not, if you 
 desire indeed to stay. But I advise you to come 
 with me, and we will return together when the 
 proper time comes.'' 
 
 After a little I gave way and consented to leave 
 Lough-na-Carra. I gave my last embrace to him 
 I loved so well. A thousand memories of his tender 
 affection — of his kindness to me — his care and soli- 
 citude — his anxiety — of his disappointments and suf- 
 fering — crowded upon me, and with agonized sob- 
 bings I pressed my lips to the cold cheek, and
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 241 
 
 addressed passionate entreaties for forgiveness for 
 all my oflfenees to the ear which could never hear 
 again till the dead awake to judgment. 
 
 It was all over. As chief mourner I had fol- 
 lowed the remains of my only friend to the grave. 
 It was, after the Irish fashion, " a great funeral.^' 
 All the neighbouring gentry came or sent their car- 
 riages; squires, farmers, peasants trooped to the 
 church; the Roman Catholic bishop of the diocese 
 attended the cortege to the gates, in company with 
 the priests of the district; and when it was done 
 and I sat in my room, " breaking my heart,^^ as 
 Honour declared, the noise of chinking plates and 
 glasses, and the sounds which came up from the 
 hall and large dining-room, where breakfast was 
 laid out for all who chose to partake of it, appeared 
 to be a mockery of what we had just heard from the 
 reverend rector, whose voice was audible below, 
 delivering an eloge on the deceased. 
 
 Those were weary days during which I struggled 
 with fresh sorrow as every familiar object recalled the 
 good old man. Mr. Bates remained with me, look- 
 ing over papers, burning letters, examining accounts, 
 paying bills, seeing creditors and land agents, solici- 
 tors and local attorneys. The house and servants 
 
 VOL. I. 16
 
 242 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 smelt of fresh crape, and even the summer sun 
 could not dispel the gloom which haunted every 
 chamber. Mr. Bates grew more grave and 
 anxious as he proceeded with his work of inves- 
 tigation. 
 
 " It is a terrible muddle. But I can make out 
 well enough there will not be much for you ; and I 
 doubt if we can save even Lough-na-Carra. You 
 are heir to everything he had, and, except some 
 legacies to servants, and souvenirs to a few friends, 
 your grandfather leaves, in trust till you are 
 twenty-one years old, all he possessed. But it is 
 terribly mortgaged and encumbered, and the 
 tenants have played the deuce lately. He was 
 always too easy with the fellows. Sir Philip has 
 renounced his trust, as he has too much to do ; Sir 
 Richard is too careless to be of much use — and, in- 
 deed, I wonder why my old friend put him in ; and 
 I suppose I shall have to do the best I can for 
 you. Just see what odd things happen ; of course 
 I don^t pay the least attention to their imper- 
 tinence.^^ 
 
 I took the letter which my guardian handed ta 
 me. It was addressed — *^To the Executors of 
 Myles Brady, Esquire, M.D., Lough-na-Carra, 
 Kilmoyle, Ireland,*^ and ran as follows : —
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 243 
 
 « 20th June, 18—. 
 
 " Chancery Lane, London. 
 
 *' Gentlemen, — Noticing the death of Myles 
 Brady, Esq., M.D., of Lough-na-Carra, we beg to 
 iniorm you that, as attorneys for Mary Brady, 
 ■widow of the late Captain John Brady, of her 
 Majesty's — th Regiment of Infantry, and mother 
 of Terence Brady, minor, it is our client's intention 
 to take immediate steps to assume the guardianship 
 of her son, which belongs to her by law ; and also 
 to enforce from the trustees of the estate of the 
 late Dr. Brady, in addition to such sum as the 
 Court may order for her son's education and main- 
 tenance, repayment of various sums, amounting in 
 all to E,s. 73,607 and 4 annas, with interest at 5 per 
 cent., due from the deceased to her late husband. 
 Whilst Dr. Brady lived, our client, from various 
 motives of a highly honourable and disinterested 
 character, refr'ained fr'om doing more than establish- 
 ing the validity of her claims ; and writing under 
 correction of advices to be received from India, we 
 may remark that an immediate settlement might 
 induce her to accept a portion of her debt in lieu 
 of the whole, and at the same time resign her to 
 
 16—2
 
 244 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 the possibilit}^ of leaving her son in charge of those 
 to whom Dr. Brady may have made him over. 
 " Your obedient servants, 
 
 " McTuRK & Skinner.'' 
 
 '' The scoundrels V ejaculated Mr. Bates. '' They 
 don't know whom they have got to deal with here. 
 These are fellows who speculate in Indian cases^ 
 and are allied with a set of greater rascals, if 
 possible, out in Bombay. They are at the bottom 
 of half the appeals to the Pri\y Council, and are on 
 the look-out for claims all over the world to keep 
 their dirty trade going. Can they suppose we don't 
 know poor Jack Brady was insolvent, or that we 
 are ignorant of what a nice lady their client is ? 
 Dash their impudence ! Let them try it, that's all.'* 
 
 It was resolved to let Lough-na-Carra, as soon as 
 it could be made out what there was to let ; to sell 
 part of the estate ; and then to see what could be 
 done with me. My natural inclination led me to 
 enter the army ; but Mr. Bates was not so much 
 enamoured of the profession of arms as most Irish- 
 men, even of his class, are. He began to doubt if 
 the rent of Lough-na-Carra and the sale of the 
 best part of the property would do more than pay 
 off some incumbrances and provide for the interest
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 245 
 
 ■of mortgages^ leaving a very small pittance for my 
 education ; and he argued that if money were to be 
 raised for my commission and to lodge for purchase 
 •of stepSj it would sink the little property altogether^ 
 and leave me little or nothing beyond my pay to 
 live on — and that^s '^ easier/^ said he, " to talk 
 about than to do/^ 
 
 Sir Richard Desmond^s only interference was on 
 that point — " The lad, after all, is a gentleman, and 
 what else can he do but carry a sword ? The law. 
 is a beggarly profession — I beg your pardon. Bates, 
 for you belong to the branch of it which is never 
 raised to the peerage, and is always making money. 
 The boy is not made for the Church, and there's 
 not a living for him to be brought up to. Doctors 
 are respectable, and they are lucky in Ireland, where 
 they are made knights and baronets, and make for- 
 tunes, and have banished general practitioners 
 among the poorest community in Europe; but I 
 don't see my way to the boy's becoming a model 
 medico, either surgeon or doctor." 
 
 But Sir Richard was a languid, easy man : when 
 he stated his case he did not care about fighting it. 
 For myself, provided I could not go into the army, 
 1 did not care much what career in life was selected 
 for me; but I had positively made up my mind
 
 246 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 to bend the course of any pursuit in wliich I 
 might be engaged towards India. There was a hand 
 pointing to that land of mystery,, whichever way I 
 turned — a secret sympathy which called me from 
 afar, and whispered that there was some purpose of 
 my life to be served which it would be well to carry 
 out quickly. There was much work to be done 
 with the lawyers, and meantime it was proposed I 
 should return to Dr. BalFs ; but I felt I could do 
 more good at a school where there was less Latin and 
 Greek, where I would have complete change of scene. 
 Sir Richard suggested " Eton^^ or " Harrow f Mr. 
 Bates said — " No ! we^^e got no money. I don't 
 so much say for the charges, though Eton would be 
 high enough, but for the tastes and incidental ex- 
 penses. Besides, Terry, with his brogue and his 
 ways, would be in misery among them, and would 
 get into no end of rows with his hot blood, in 
 which he would most likely get licked, until he 
 learned some pugilistic tricks from his opponents.'^ 
 Sir Richard, for once, persisted in his opinion. 
 " I am for an English school ; I don't say for a girl, 
 though women are cosmopolitan. But from what I 
 remember of my youth, I have no great faith in the 
 British boarding-school. I can't fancy a worse train- 
 ing for a young girl than to be at your fashionable
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 247 
 
 watering-place^ and to see tlie full tide of fashion, 
 frivolity,, and vice flowing under her eyes, as if it 
 were the ocean of life itself. Boys must be men, and 
 there is no use in stamping on them early in life a 
 brand which marks them with a distinction which is 
 very like a certificate of inferiority. We must submit 
 to lose our nationality in the imperial vortex, or be 
 treated as provincials.^^
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE PROPRIETARY COLLEGE. 
 
 As a compromise, it was resolved I should be 
 sent to the great Preparatory College of Sweaten- 
 liam ; and Mr. Bates and myself were soon after- 
 wards on our way to the pleasant town on which the 
 founders of the seminary had pitched as a good place 
 to feather the nests of its principal and masters. 
 
 When the packet ran alongside the dock quay at 
 Liverpool, I was surprised to see a swarming, ragged 
 crowd, the counterpart of that which I had left 
 behind me, save that they were sulky instead of 
 being good-humoured, scrambling for the luggage 
 of the passengerSj for I had been taught to regard 
 dirt and poverty as exclusively Irish. But, as j\Ir. 
 Ba,tes said, " If they're not Irish, they^re Welsh — 
 cousin-germans, if not brothers — hating each other 
 in a brotherly fashion, at all events.^"* 
 
 The smoke of the grimy city, its squalor and its
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 241) 
 
 misery, the yellow Mersey groaning beneath its 
 burden of keels, the forest of masts rising above the 
 dock walls like the trees in some garden where gold 
 and silver are planted and cropped — the bustle in 
 the streets, the vast bales of cotton towering in 
 gigantic vans, and the long piles of sombre ware- 
 houses hauling up and letting down merchandize 
 from their lean arm-like cranes — all astonished 
 rather than pleased me. 
 
 Forth from the dock, slow warping to the stream, 
 came the bow of a great ship, with her white 
 sails gracefully festooned from the yards, and her 
 lofty spars shining like polished metal; a huge 
 ensign flew from her gaff", displaying its pale stars 
 and bright blue ground, and broad flakes of red on 
 the white cloth. The crew, manning the capstan 
 with a '^ stamp and go'-* to the sound of a fiddle, 
 shouted in chorus as the Magnus Apollo of the 
 band closed each stanza of his song, and the spanker 
 flapped in the breeze like thunder. But above all 
 the tumult and din came that bitter sobbing, the 
 echoes of the fountain of sorrow and despair flood- 
 ing from the heart, which can only be heard as one 
 listens to the farewell of the Irish emigrant ship. 
 
 There, crowded on poop and forecastle, and 
 penned in terrified droves, like cattle, between the
 
 250 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 bulwarks^ swayed in passionate lamentation, the 
 living freight, young and old — the children going to 
 the parents, the parents to the children — the scat- 
 tered members of the race flocking to their Jerusa- 
 lem beyond the seas, which had for them unutter- 
 able terror, to escape from the land for which they 
 bore such unutterable love. 
 
 '^ It^'s well for the poor devils,^" said Mr. Bates ; 
 ^^ they'll be better off where they^re going to. The 
 fact is, my dear Terry, the economists have dis- 
 covered there may be too much of a good thing in 
 obeying the commands of heaven. Paddy has over- 
 done the primaeval mandate, ^ Be fruitful and mul- 
 tiply, and replenish the earth."* The earth is not 
 Ireland, you know."*^ 
 
 ^'But I heard Major Turnbull talking at the 
 Castle one night, and saying there was great diffi- 
 culty in getting recruits ; and there go, I suppose, 
 a couple of hundred or more fine stout soldiers.^-' 
 
 " Yes, Terry ; but the supply is equal to the de- 
 mand when they like to pay for it. That ship is 
 equal to a regiment, if you let the young ones 
 gi'ow and count the married couples. Here we are 
 on shore now.^^ 
 
 The first appearance of Sweatenham College was 
 very imposing. The long frontage of Gothic arcading.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 251 
 
 its Gothic chapel_, its spires and clock-tower^ the 
 broad expanse of lawn lined with trees, the clean- 
 swept walks, gave the establishment an aspect of 
 importance, not to say grandeur, in my eyes, which 
 was by no means diminished when I saw three or 
 four of the masters strolling inside the railings in all 
 the dignity of cap and gown, and beheld the glories 
 of the college livery on the porter who opened the 
 gate. It was play-hour, and from the rear of the 
 college came the hum of voices, and the roar of the 
 boys in the frenzy of cricket or foot-ball, pierced 
 by the treble now and then of some youngster. 
 
 Mr. Bates came out, after a visit to the Principal 
 which seemed to me an age, for I was expecting 
 every moment to be summoned to his dreadful pre- 
 sence, and I had undergone a good deal of critical 
 examination from several pale-faced limpid youths 
 in trencher-caps, who were stalking about with books 
 in their hands, and made their remarks aloud. 
 
 " I say, Grubby, he must be Irish. There's 
 ^ T. Brady, passenger, Kilmoyle to Dublin,' on that 
 old box. Dublin is in Ireland, you know.'' 
 
 " I never saw such a shabby lot of traps. Did 
 you ? Perhaps his swell things are coming by next 
 train ?" 
 
 Mr. Bates's appearance delivered me from an
 
 ^52 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 ordeal whicli I was beginning to bear very badly. 
 He gave the driver directions to go to the Rev. Mr. 
 Snellj Sabine Villa, and explained to me as we 
 passed through the well ordered streets of the town 
 of Sweatenham (which looks like a seaside town 
 without any sea), that I was to be put in the house 
 of the aforesaid reverend gentleman, as he had a 
 vacancy for a boarder. " The head-master thought 
 me fortunate in getting under SnelFs roof /"* and 
 Mr. Bates added that it must be the case, for Dr. 
 Moody spoke with such deliberation and care, there 
 must be a meaning in every " and^^ or '' ?>o'' he uttered. 
 Sabine Villa was a staring red-brick house, 
 fenced in from the road by a wall tipped with iron 
 spikes ; in front was a ragged space, in which gravel 
 and grass held divided sway. At one side of the 
 house a squat wing was thrown out, lighted by a 
 large arched window; and a path, separated from 
 the land by a narrow railing, led from the door of 
 this wing to a gate opening on a lane from the main 
 road. Ever and anon, as we were waiting for the 
 bell to be answered, boys in trencher caps flitted 
 backwards and forwards along the path, carrying 
 rolls, cakes, eggs, and suspicious-looking little paper 
 bags and baskets into the squat wing, and through 
 the opened window came the clatter of plates and
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 258 
 
 knives and forks^ and a hum as of a multitude at 
 a banquet. 
 
 A weak-eyed, feeble-legged lad, with a dirty face 
 and a manner of great irritability, as if he were in 
 a normal state of being aggravated, informed us 
 that " Mrs. Snell was at ^ome, but Mr. Snell would 
 not be back till after the young gentlemen^s 
 dinner, as he couldnH abide the smell of it,-"* and led 
 Mr. Bates and myself into a crypt-like parlour, 
 filled with rigid, straight-backed chairs, a hard- 
 looking little round table, covered with old maga- 
 zines and some theological works, including 
 "Vol. II.'' of "Snell's Sermons," and a small' 
 library, over which was a bust of Socrates. A por- 
 trait of a clergyman in his surplice, with a ^dew of 
 the sea and a Roman amphitheatre in ruins as a 
 background, decorated one wall, and was faced by a 
 photograph, enlarged to unusual hideousness, of a 
 thin, flat-cheeked woman, with a small, sharp nose 
 and round forehead, from which the hair was 
 scooped into the fangs of a high comb presiding 
 over the back of the head. 
 
 Mr. Bates sent up his card and a note from Dr. 
 Moody, and after a time we were summoned to pro- 
 ceed to the drawing-room, where Mrs. Snell would- 
 be happy to see us.
 
 254 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 A lady whom I recognised as the original of the 
 portrait on the wall was seated in an arm-chair 
 before a fire, although then it was a hot summer day. 
 The comb had been cashiered, and the hair which 
 had been entrusted to its guardianship, was now 
 coaxed into three or four corkscrew curls by the side 
 of each cheek, as if to screen the permanent blush 
 which enriched them. Mrs. Snell wore heavy 
 chains of gold and many rings, and gazed at us 
 through a gold eye-glass, perched on the narrow ledge 
 'of her delicate nose, as we came in. She waved 
 condescendingly to Mr. Bates to take a chair near 
 at hand ; but my worthy guardian, declaring he found 
 the weather rather warm, begged to be excused 
 going so near the fire, and Mrs. Snell was obliged 
 to throw out a thin cold voice at him, coughing 
 behind her hand as she spoke, and conveying an 
 aroma of ether through the room. 
 
 " Snell is out just now; but I will give orders 
 for Brady^s reception, and that — I see his name is 
 Brady, and that — and yours is Bates ? Well, Brady 
 is Irish. We have a good many of them, and 
 that — what illnesses has Brady had ?^' 
 
 I repeated the small catalogue of my ailments, 
 as far as I could remember them, at my guardian^ s 
 request.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 255 
 
 " That will do very nicely, and tliat ; he's had his 
 measles and scarlatina; and that — that's very well. 
 His books and that Snell will look to. Mrs. 
 Prince, my housekeeper, will attend to his clothes, 
 and that, and his things will be all put away. I 
 look to diet and all that as my own share. Perhaps, 
 Brady, you had better go now and find your way to 
 your room. Any one will tell you where Mrs. 
 Prince is, or you may ring the bell and ask the 
 page, and that.'' 
 
 Mr. Bates's face wore a quaint look as I left 
 the room. I wandered into the hall, and having 
 no earthly notion of Mrs. Prince's whereabouts, 
 was about to open the parlour door to ring the bell, 
 when the pale footman appeared in the passage, and . 
 exclaimed — 
 
 " Hullo ! I say, none of that. If Snell saw you 
 going into the parlour after you've entered, there 
 would be a row, I can tell you. It's against 
 the rules; and rules is rules here, I can tell 
 you." 
 
 I had serious notions of boxing the ears of the 
 gentleman in the olive livery and yellow waistcoat, 
 but my purpose was checked by the entrance of a 
 middle-aged woman, at the rustle of whose silk the 
 footman became exceedingly exasperated.
 
 256 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 ^^Mrs. Prince, ma^am, I caught this young 
 genelman — a new boy, ma^am — goin' into the pri- 
 vate parler " 
 
 ^' That will do, James ; you may go/^ 
 
 There was something very mild in the tone of 
 Mrs. Princess voice, and yet there was something 
 very decided, and James retreated through the 
 green-baize door with his anecdote unfinished. I 
 had time to survey the speaker, and to see that she 
 was a plump, middle-aged person, with a widow^s 
 cap, and an air of sleekness and composure about 
 her, as though all went w^ell with her. She had a 
 kindly look too, and as I met her gaze I rejoiced 
 that there was such a pleasant person in the Sabine 
 Villa. 
 
 " Your things are taken up and put away in 
 your room,^^ she said. " They were badly packed 
 up, and most of them will require marking. Have 
 you had your dinner ? — yes ! Well, then, come,, 
 and I will show you your room. It is fortunate 
 you have a good set with you this half. There 
 will be Seton Sinclair, Scotch — a sturdy, fine lad; 
 Langley, working hard for prizes ; and Mowbray, 
 doing nothing, and spending too much money, 
 spoiling his teeth and stomach, but not doing any 
 mischief — at least, as far as I know ; and you wilL
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 257 
 
 get on well if you make friends. ' Agree with thy 
 enemy quickly/ you know ; and all boys at school 
 are enemies to the new-comers.''^ 
 
 Shall I ever forget the first morning ! A bell was 
 tolling as if for the execution of a criminal : it was 
 the first bell for prayers. The day that was about 
 to open upon me was full of terrors ; I had heard of 
 all kinds of trials to which I was to be subjected ere 
 the sun had set. I was " to fight Massingberd '' — 
 he was the last boy at Wickens^s. It was the rule 
 that the last boy at SnelFs and the last boy at 
 Wickens^s should engage in combat if they were at 
 all of the same size and years^ and Massingberd 
 and I answered the conditions pretty well; except 
 that he was older and I was bigger. Then I would 
 have to give a supper in the evening. It was 
 against the rules of the school to do so_, but 
 it was the rule of the house for a new boy to 
 stand treat; and I had confessed myself the pos- 
 sessor of five golden sovereigns, which Mr. Bates 
 had slipped into my hands ere he drove away. 
 There was also an intimation that I should provide 
 a considerable entertainment at Figgises, the pastry- 
 cook^ s_, which was '' out of bounds ;" but Talbot, 
 junior, would run the blockade with a sovereign 
 and carry in the supplies. I was also to shy shil- 
 
 VOL. I. 17
 
 258 ADVENTURES OF DOCTOR BRADY. 
 
 lings into the diving-pool, and to take a header 
 into the Sally Hole. I was to join the cricket 
 club — to become a member of the Junior Sweaten- 
 ham Foot-ball Club — and to be tried with Burley 
 tertius with a pair of sculls on the river — and I was 
 io be examined by " Moody/^ to see what class I 
 should join. All these and other matters had been 
 confided to me at tea the previous evening, when I 
 returned from seeing my good guardian, Mr. Bates, 
 off on his journey home. 
 
 cc r^^YTjj my lad,^^ quoth he, " you are big 
 enough to take care of yourself. I need not tell 
 you to work hard, for you have no one to look to 
 but yourself. You will see a lot of young scamps 
 here who do nothing ; and you will see, too, I^m 
 sure, a fair proportion of fellows who are deter- 
 mined to get on in the world ; and you will have 
 to decide which lot you wiU belong to. I have no 
 doubt of your choice. Try and keep friends with 
 all, but let none of them — Fm sure I need not say 
 this — bully you or insult you. If you act like a 
 lad of honour and spirit, you will always find plenty 
 of lads to stand by you and prevent your being 
 bullied. Play at their games with all your might, 
 and when fun is over, work with all your might too, 
 and vou need not fear for the futui-e.^^
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MY TRIALS BEGIN. 
 
 Full of these sage counsels,, I had returned to 
 Sabine Villa just as the bell was ringing for tea, 
 and met a rush of boys in the narrow lane which 
 nearly carried me off my legs. The tide bore me 
 into the study, as it was called — the great white- 
 washed room inside the squat wing — in which were 
 rows of benches and deal tables spread with cups 
 and saucers. At one end was a raised seat and 
 desk, at the other a kind of pulpit, and the wall 
 was adorned with tin sconces and a large black 
 board smeared with chalk. At the end of the centre 
 table sat an angry-looking young man, with a red, 
 blotchy face, straight light hair, and feeble sight, 
 so like " Dowly,^^ the footman, that the boys did not 
 hesitate to assert the latter was the unacknowledged 
 brother of Snell, taken in to economize the family 
 arrangements. " SnelF^ was dressed in black, and 
 
 17—2
 
 260 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 wore a white tie^ and a college- gown, which gave him 
 a clerical,, but not a reverend appearance ; and he 
 glowered down the tables, which were lined by 
 double files of boys, face to face and back to back, 
 in a manner which indicated intense animosity to 
 his youthful charges. Enormous cauldrons, filled 
 with a preparation of water and some unknown 
 leaf, which would have been tasteless had it not 
 been mawkish, were placed at the head of each 
 table j and mounds of coarse-looking bread, cut in 
 slices and smeared with a composition known to the 
 consumers as " SnelFs compound ointment,''^ were 
 erected at intervals along the line. Dowly, as the 
 footman was called, assisted by a small boy, who re- 
 ceived secret kicks, pinches, and hair puUings, 
 delivered by unseen legs and hands, had charge of 
 the arrangements, under the supervision of Mr. Snell. 
 
 " Grace V* shouted the latter, in a sharp, jerking 
 voice. " Brady, grace V 
 
 It was the rule for the last comer to say grace ; 
 but as I knew nothing of it, and had crept quietly 
 into my place, " No. 39,^^ where my mug and plate 
 were laid, this sudden call quite upset me. Mr. 
 Dowly laid before me a dirty card, on which was 
 printed the formula to be used, and I was about to 
 commence, when my neighbour clapped his hand on
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 261 
 
 my mouth_, and said — " Don-'t. By Jove, Snell will 
 be down on you. You must go to the desk/'' 
 With the consciousness that all eyes were upon me, 
 and quickened by the smart tap of the master^s 
 rule on the table, I made for the desk, card in 
 hand, and proceeded to read the grace. At first 
 there was silence; after a word or two I was aware 
 that there was a little tittering ; then the benches 
 seemed to shake ; and at last a roar of laughter in- 
 terrupted me in the midst of my task. In vain 
 Mr. Snell thumped the table and called for silence ; 
 the merriment continued unabated ; and at last I 
 descended from my rostrum, and in obedience to 
 the master's hand, sought my place again. 
 
 '' What is it all about T' whispered I to my 
 neighbour. " Why are you all laughing ?" 
 
 " Oh ! it is lovely. It's better than a play.''^ 
 
 '^What is? What is it?'' 
 
 " What is it ? — why, your brogue ! I never heard 
 anything like it since once I was taken to the play 
 to see Power." 
 
 I was aware, indeed, that there was a peculiar 
 rhythm in my way of speaking. I had been brought 
 up in a district where the pronunciation of English 
 was subjected to remarkable inflections ; but it 
 did not occur to mc that there was anything
 
 262 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 very ludicrous in the fact. At Dr. BalFs we did not 
 laugh at M'^Cracken, the son of the Town Major, 
 who spoke Glasgow ; nor at Bull, the son of a clerk 
 in the castle, whose sj^eech was pure Somersetshire. 
 As I ate my bread and drank my Snell^s pecu- 
 liar, my thoughts dwelt on the future in store for 
 me if every word I said was to be the signal for 
 inextinguishable laughter on the part of my com- 
 panions. The meal was over, and what was called 
 study commenced ; but I was excused, as I had no 
 books, and I sat watching my future companions 
 with all the earnestness which marks a boy's inves- 
 tigation of his fellows. It is well that the boy is 
 not the father of the man. In the little world of 
 which I was a new citizen, there was such selfishness 
 and trickery as would render men contemptible and 
 hateful. Looking at the rows of youthful faces — 
 ugly, handsome, and neither — apparently bent over 
 their books, one could scarcely imagine that so 
 many of these studious youths were engaged in the 
 most strenuous attempts to do anything but learn 
 their lessons. One fellow was doing his Euripides 
 with a crib ; another had a key for his verses ; a 
 third was getting his Horace " done^^ by one of the 
 senior boys, whom he was to reward with a tip. Of 
 course there were some hard-working lads in the
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 263 
 
 mass, striving to read as well as they could araid the 
 secret volleys of paper pellets, and the petty persecu- 
 tions to which they were subjected unseen of the 
 Reverend Snell, who was engaged in revising the 
 proofs of a " New Grammar/' which all the boys at 
 Sweatenham were soon to be compelled to buy at twice 
 its cost price. How many toiling fathers, who were 
 depriving themselves of comforts and screwing '^ the 
 house'^ to keep their boys at college, were then 
 solacing themselves with the thought that they would 
 reap their reward in seeing their old age crowned by 
 the success in life of their sons ! How many fond 
 mothers were thinking and dreaming and praying, 
 morning and night, for the welfare of those who 
 were only scheming in order to make the least 
 possible use of the advantages for which so many 
 sacrifices had been made at home ! 
 
 There was Whittley, whom his father, as he worked 
 in his chambers, or perambulated Westminster Hall 
 with his lean bag in hand, fondly believed to be read- 
 ing hard for the college exhibition and a scholarship,, 
 engaged in the perusal of a Raci7ig Calendar — a 
 keen hand at making a book — for ever dodging to 
 get off to the little races about SAveatenham, and 
 conversant with the way of the turf — the humble 
 follower of Mr. Meggs, one of the grooms in Lord
 
 264 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Weatherby^s stable^ and quite certain to be plucked 
 for his " Little-go/' 
 
 Jack Asgill, the only son of the widow of 
 a naval captain — who was living at a little cabin 
 by the seaside dignified by the name of a cot- 
 tage — was the champion on the river^ a fine^ bold- 
 spirited felloW; the leader of all the athletic sports 
 of the college^ a universal favourite^ but very 
 little calculated to wear the clergyman's gown for 
 which his mother designed him_, that he might get 
 the benefice which a friend of his father's had 
 promised her. Each half, the poor lady strained 
 her eyes over the printed report of Jack's collegiate 
 efforts. 
 
 " General Progress : M." 
 
 '' What is ' M./ John, my dear !" 
 " ' M. ? Oh, ' M.' means moderate. There's 
 ' V. G.' and ' G.' are better ; but ' B.' is worse, 
 and ^ V. B.' very bad. So, you see, I'm rather high, 
 mother." 
 
 He is rewarded with a grateful smile, and a kiss 
 on his sunburnt cheek. 
 
 ^^ Boarding-house Report," she goes on, ^' is, I 
 see — ^ Unsatisfactory.' Oh, John, my love, I'm so 
 grieved. How is that ? I'm so sorry " 
 
 " There now, don't be a dear old goose of a
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 265 
 
 mater. Tliat''s old Snell ; no one cares for that. 
 It is all because we had a tremendous jolly supper- 
 party the night before we came away^ and some 
 fellow threw a bolster at Snell. He thought it was 
 me, and so down he pops me — the spiteful beast — 
 as ' unsatisfactory.' Really, mother, that means 
 nothing at all. Look at my place in school, and see.'' 
 
 " Class Master's Report," she goes on : " He 
 might do better — moved up a division in his half." 
 
 Jack meets her inquiring glance with an easy 
 smile. " There, isn't that first-rate ? Moved up a 
 division, mother, eh !" 
 
 '' Yes ; but, my boy, ' he might do better.' How 
 is that ?" 
 
 " Oh, of course, I might have moved up to the 
 very top, if I could. You must remember, dear 
 mother mine, that I had the deuce of a cold from 
 that wetting I got" (the outrigger upset with him 
 on the river) "just before the examination. And 
 nothing pleases old Mouldy Bill — that's the name 
 we give Venables, who has the class I'm in — he's 
 such an awful clever chap himself. Read on, 
 mother ; it's a jolly report this time, I can tell you." 
 
 The confiding mamma continues : " Place in 
 class of twenty- seven boys — sixteenth." 
 
 " There ! sixteenth ! I'm above eleven fellows.
 
 266 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Tibbs^ who is two years older, is below me ; and all 
 the other chaps a^e first-rate. I was nineteenth, 
 you remember, last half/^ 
 
 Mrs. Asgill sighs gently, and coughs for fear 
 Jack would think she was at all disappointed. 
 " Greek— B. ' B.' is bad, John, is it not V 
 
 ^^ That's Mouldy Bill again, mother. I hate 
 Greek anyway j but it was a horrid chouse to give 
 me a B., for I did my Euripides first rate." 
 
 " Latin — B.,'' she reads and pauses, whilst Jack 
 breaks out, triumphantly — ^^ Yes ; but I was '^ V. B.' 
 last half; and Flack swears Fve got on famously. 
 I will be sure of ^ G.,' or maybe, ^ V. G.,' next 
 half.'' 
 
 •^Mathematics — ^V. B.," Mrs. Asgill gulps out, 
 with a quaver in her tone indicative of great con- 
 cern. '^ I always heard mathematics were highly 
 necessary for a clergyman, and that you can't get 
 into Cambridge without them." 
 
 " Then, darling mother, you are quite wrong. It's 
 classics you want for the Church; anyway, I know 
 more mathematics than old Flack, who is a clergy- 
 man j and Snell can't do a proposition in Euclid, 
 and they say he'll get a bishopric somewhere abroad 
 very soon. The sooner the better, say I ; for our 
 grub is beastly. I'm half-starved."
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 267 
 
 This was a masterly stroke^ for it led Mrs. Asgill 
 at once away to the question of dietary^ and her 
 face grew wan with alarm as she detected in the 
 sinewy frame of her son evident traces of SnelFs 
 stinginess in the matter of beef and mutton. 
 
 I didn^t know all this about the boys at the 
 time, but I heard plenty of such stories after I was 
 a few days at the college ; and I saw, too, that some 
 of the hardest-working fellows were those who had 
 least need to provide for themselves in life. 
 
 Prayers came at last. He who knows the secrets 
 of all hearts can judge how many knelt before 
 Him with any thought of asking for grace and pro- 
 tection, or of what Snell was thinking as he jerked 
 out in a snappish, irritable way the words of the 
 College Litany. Then we trooped off to the dormi- 
 tories, and went through the form of going to bed ; 
 but when the lights had been out in my room for 
 half an hour, I heard the scraping of a match, and 
 Bundle, my next neighbour, summoned me to the 
 banquet which I had provided. 
 
 "We have it in the kitchen, so as Snell 
 mayn^t hear us. WeVe tipped Dowly and Cookey 
 with two ' boV a-piece of your tin. Put on your 
 jacket. Follow me. Mum's the word — as light 
 as you can.''' And putting his bit of candle in a
 
 268 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 tiny dark lantern which he took from his box, 
 Rundle led me along the passage^ the eye of light 
 preceding him^ and the whole transaction having 
 that semblance of burglary which made it very 
 agreeable to my comrade, famous as he was for his 
 acquaintance with the deeds of ''^ Three-fingered 
 Jack," " Dick Turpin/' and the heroes of the New- 
 gate Calendar. I knew it was all wrong. I did 
 not care for the supper; but I was too weak to 
 resist ; and many of us are led astray, not because 
 we like to take the wrong path, but because we 
 are not strong enough to shake off the hand which 
 is guiding us. 
 
 It was a banquet indeed ! The kitchen gas was 
 alight, the large table covered with a cloth that had 
 seen some service upstairs, a grand array of tin 
 pannikins and plates, and a miscellaneous display of 
 edibles, in which a large pie, a pile of tarts, hot 
 sausages,and a cold fowl, were conspicuous. Bottles 
 of ginger and currant wine were mingled with pots 
 of marmalade and jam. The guests were all assem. 
 bled, mostly big boys I had seen at the upper end 
 of the room, and took not the slightest notice of 
 me ; the kitchen door was shut carefully. Rundle 
 surveyed the table as he took his place, and pointed 
 to a seat on the bench.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 269 
 
 " How is this_, Winter/^ he asked in a low tone 
 of displeasure,, '' no oysters ? I would n^t give a 
 farthing for a supper without oysters/^ 
 
 '^ Most votes carried J Possy V' (my friend was 
 prsepositus of a class, and was generally addressed 
 by this familiar name). ^^ Pat's money was very 
 little, you know ; and there^s such a jollj^ lot of 
 cholera about : lobsters are awful cheap. Look at 
 these five I got from Einn^s for six and sixpence, 
 cracked and cut up so as not to make a row.''' 
 
 Rundle was amenable to argument, and with an 
 injunction not to make a clatter with the plates, and 
 to talk low, the feast began. It must be admitted 
 that a boy's enjoyment of the pleasures of the table 
 is not dependent on agreeable society or brilliant 
 iconversation. He eats and drinks for the sake of 
 himself, not of his company ; and silence rather en- 
 hances than diminishes his zest. And so, serious 
 as savages, we sat and revelled in large platefuls of 
 incongruous meats and in beakers of dreadful 
 drinks, regardless of the morrow, and quite con- 
 tent with our enforced abstinence from an inter- 
 change of ideas. Everything was said in whispers. 
 "Nubbles, I say, what a chouse you are; that's 
 the last Banbury ; you had two before." " Pass 
 the marmalade this way, and a sweet biscuit."
 
 270 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 If any sound above a whisper was heard^ Dowly, 
 who was thrown out as a vidette in the passage 
 in his night-shirt_, so that he might pretend he 
 was coming to see what was the matter if Snell 
 operated a descent on us^ appeared with a pale face 
 at the door and uplifted finger_, and hissed out, " I 
 say; now then, he^s a-turnin^ in bed, I can tell 
 you. I heerd that laughing quite plain through 
 the door, so I did/^ 
 
 These interruptions and admonitions could not 
 damp the enjoyment, which was at any rate 
 not protracted; for in an amazingly short space 
 of time the bottles were drained, the lobsters 
 were but shells, the fowls but bones, the cheese 
 but rind, the jam pots emptied. The assembly 
 of Sybarites broke up, and one by one filtered 
 through the doorway and glided away to their 
 rooms, to face the horrors of nightmare or to 
 sleep in peace, according to their digestions ; and 
 as I followed Rundle, who closed the rear, I saw 
 Dowly ravaging among the dishes, and searching 
 in vain for any satisfactory remnant of the feast. 
 
 Our breakfast was very like the tea of the pre- 
 vious night. It was a wonder to me to see the 
 composed, innocent look of the young fellows in 
 chapel, and above all, the guileless look of Rundle,
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 271 
 
 who, as one of the choir, wore a white surplice ; 
 I knew that some of them, at all events, had 
 been sitting up till all hours, with their heads up 
 the chimney in their rooms, smoking, and that 
 Rundle had gone off with a bottle of the college 
 grocer's sherry and another of brandy under his arm, 
 and had not retired to bed till daybreak. The 
 array of masters in their gowns, the awful presence 
 of Moody himself — a large sleek man, with black 
 eyes and heavy beetling eyebrows, and a sallow 
 face — impressed me immensely. I repented greatly 
 of my rashness in venturing to look at him ear- 
 nestly, for he suddenly caught my eye, and stared 
 at me with an expression so severe and tremendous 
 that I felt quite weak about the knees, and blushed 
 till my ears tingled. 
 
 The service was over, and we marched from the 
 chapel to the main building to the sound of a 
 funereal bell. The head of the column passed 
 through the arched door, and as my turn came I 
 saw two of the boys at each side with pencil and 
 paper engaged in ticking off the names. As I 
 walked in one of them asked me sharply for my name. 
 
 '^ Oh, Brady ? You are to go in to Dr. Moody 
 at once, d'ye hear ? Room A. Now then, sharp, 
 Paddy.''
 
 272 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 The hum of voices sounded in my ears like the 
 rushing of waters ; and twice I put my hand on the 
 door and withdrew it^ for somehow or other I 
 fancied the black- eyed^ stern-faced man knew of 
 our doings,, and would visit on me all the sins of the 
 night^s dissipation. At last I was inside the 
 dreaded portal and face to face with the doctor^ 
 who was standing at his desk looking over the exer- 
 cises of the upper form^ young men rather than 
 boys, who were going up to the University. He 
 saw but took no notice of me, and went on with his 
 examination of the papers before him, whilst I 
 underwent a different examination from the young 
 gentlemen who were awaiting the results of his 
 criticism. 
 
 What the deuce were they laughing at ? I 
 could not see anything to laugh at. They did, for 
 neither the cut of my jacket nor my boots, nor the 
 colour of my tie, nor my pantaloons, were familiar to 
 these young Brummels, who had no idea of the 
 fashions prevailing at Kilmoyle, or knew that Andy 
 Kane, the tailor, took all his designs from the 
 plates in '^ The Magazine of Taste.^^ 
 
 Dr. Moody raised his head and beckoned me to 
 approach. 
 
 " Your guardian tells me,^' he said, " you were
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 273 
 
 considered by Dr. Ball to have made fair progress. 
 Dr. Ball is a good scholar — in fact_, for one of the 
 alumni of the Silent Sister_, he may be termed 
 an elegant and accomplished scholar ; and his 
 edition of *^Bion' — a pretty trifle — is known to 
 us over here. What were you reading when you 
 left ?' • 
 
 I stammered through my list. 
 
 ^^ Hum ! — that sounds very fairly ; quite up to 
 our fourth form. Now^ Brady^ let me hear you 
 read and translate. Begin there.^'' 
 
 The passage in Juvenal which Dr. Moody 
 pointed out to me was one I knew tolerably well ; 
 and^ with confidence somewhat restored, I began to 
 read aloud as I was desired. Before the second 
 line was well begun I was aware of a titter among 
 the Brummels^ which soon became a roar of laugh- 
 ter, as Dr. Moody, with his hands to his ears, 
 exclaimed — 
 
 " There, there ! — that will do ! Such quantity ! 
 Dear me, how very dreadful ! "We must set at 
 work at once on this V 
 
 In fact, my pronunciation was of the broadest — 
 or of the flattest Continental — type, and my 
 prosody was feeble. I was much ashamed; and 
 when I was called on to read a chorus from the 
 
 VOL. I. 18
 
 274 ADVENTURES OF DOCTOR BRADY. 
 
 " Phoenissse^^, and was greeted with fresh merriment 
 in my Greeks I felt inclined to throw down the 
 book or fling it at some fellow^ s head. 
 
 It was the foretaste of my persecutions. Another 
 boy would have got through the ordeal well enough, 
 but as I was obstinately bent on having my own 
 way, and in doing battle with all comers, I soon 
 had my hands fuU of quarrels and fights. My 
 morbid feeling was increased, perhaps, by the want 
 of a friend. Mr. Bates was far away. It seemed 
 as if I were quite alone in the world, — abandoned 
 to my fate among a crowd of pitiless mocking 
 strangers, who exerted every ingenuity to irritate 
 and annoy me.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE FLIGHT. 
 
 ^^ I REALLY do not know whether we can overlook, 
 this insubordinate and quarrelsome spirit much 
 longer/' said Dr. Moody. "You are never happy 
 except you are engaged in personal conflicts — one 
 of those ' in bello gaudentes_, proelio ridentes.'' '' 
 
 " They will not let me alone, sir — they are 
 always at me.'' 
 
 " At you_, sir ? — at you ? What do you mean by 
 that? Here have you been reported for fighting 
 with E/icketts, Botcher, Wylie primus, the two 
 Crawley s, within this quarter — not to speak of 
 your boarding-house squabbles." 
 
 " There are more than those, sir. You only 
 hear when I have the best of the fight. You don't 
 know that I have been licked by ever so many 
 of the big fellows, because I wont stand their 
 making game of me." 
 
 18— a
 
 276 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 ^^ It is a dreadful spirit V ejaculated the prin- 
 cipal — " a dreadful spirit — a word and a blow. You 
 havC; I find, received corporal punishment about 
 once a week, and have had the most severe imposi- 
 tions, and yet you persist in these encounters/^ 
 
 '^^ If I were to be killed on the spot, or to die, 
 sir, I cannot help it. Why are they allowed to 
 persecute me — to ridicule, and sneer, and jibe at 
 me ? Fve borne it as long as I could. Some of 
 the fellows have left oflP, but others will not ; and if 
 you could only know how I am tried you would 
 punish my tormentors, and not me.''^ 
 
 " You say you have been fighting with the senior 
 boys, and have been beaten — who were they ?" 
 
 " I cannot tell you, sir. Some of them had 
 black eyes as well as I had.''^ 
 
 ^' Black eyes ! why it^s your invariable condition, 
 sir. It is disgraceful to the college. I wiU 
 promise you this : bring up before me any boy 
 who annoys you without a cause, and I will inquire 
 into the case and inflict on him condign punish- 
 ment, if he deserves it. You may go; the last 
 five hundred lines are condoned.'''' 
 
 I went forth from the presence with a burning 
 sense of wrong. In that hard time Mrs. Prince 
 haa Deen my only comforter.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 277 
 
 " What ! another black eye V the good matron 
 would exclaim^ " and the yellow scarcely gone off the 
 last one yet. That^'s near two pounds of raw beef 
 Tve had to pay for out of my private pocket. Why, 
 it's no eyes you'll have at all very soon, you dreadful 
 Brady.'' 
 
 The poor soul had some Hibernian tendencies 
 herself — they stopped short of black eyes — but her 
 encounters with Mrs. Snell, and Dobbs, the cook, 
 and Grimes, the head chambermaid, were frequent 
 and stormy. 
 
 It was on the evening of the day I had been in 
 to Dr. Moody — hang these doctors, my life is weary 
 of them ! — I was working away at my desk. Dowly 
 came in with a tray full of letters to Snell, 
 who examined each before he called up the boy 
 for whom it was intended. We all knew the 
 postman's ring, and every eye was directed to the 
 desk. 
 
 " Has Jones got his tip, I wonder ?" " There's a 
 black seal for Kimmis ; his governor's been seedy." 
 ^' Look at little Mac ! he's got a post-office order, 
 and a lot of stamps." 
 
 " Brady ?" caUed out Snell. " Two letters— one 
 from India, with a shilling to pay." 
 
 I walked up to the desk. There was a letter
 
 278 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 witli a large black seal; it was from Mr. Bates. 
 There was another in a clear sharp handwriting, 
 which made me start as I took it up. 
 
 I went back to my seat. I looked at the last 
 letter again and again. With hesitating hand I 
 tore it open^ and read : — 
 
 " Aurlpore, June lOth, 18 — . 
 
 " My dear SoNj — I write to you in the hope 
 that you have not quite forgotten . you have a 
 mother. Some day when we meet I will tell 
 yoUj my dear son_, why I thought it best for your 
 welfare that I should not cast any part of the 
 burthen of my sad fate upon you ; and no doubt you 
 have been taught to hate me^ and have been told I 
 did not care for you. My dear Terence, I will 
 not say a word against your grandfather. He was 
 your dear papa^s father, and he took a strong part 
 against me because I made the greatest sacrifice 
 that a woman could make for his son and for you ; 
 but I have never ceased to think of you and to love 
 you. Though so far away, I have taken care of 
 you as well as I could. My servant used to tell 
 me about you ; and when he was sent away I had 
 friends who took care to let me know of your wel- 
 fare. I cannot tell you how I suffered when the
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 279 
 
 news came that you were drowned ; but that was 
 soon set to rights. I was very sorry^ too, indeed, 
 when I heard of my father-in-law's death_, though 
 he was not kind to me. I am told you are growing 
 tall and strong,, and that you are very like your 
 father. I am glad to hear that ; for I have 
 been unhappy about you. You are my son, and 
 by your father's wishes I was to take charge of 
 youj but I was not able then, and I only live now 
 to see you, and show how your poor mother loves 
 you. I cannot leave this country, for I have no 
 money, and live on the kindness of my friends ; 
 but I trust you will be able some day to help me. 
 You are going into the army, and you must come 
 out to India; and then we will return together, 
 and live together always. You will be a very rich 
 man some day. Look after your property, and 
 do not believe any one who tells you there is not 
 a fortune belonging to your grandfather. I prin- 
 cipally write to warn you against the Desmonds. 
 Your poor father told me long ago that the 
 Desmonds had taken all the lands of the Brady 
 family. I have been told that the brother of Mr. 
 Denis Desmond is a great man in Ireland, and that 
 he is your guardian, along with a low Irish attorney. 
 I would come over and shield you against them if I
 
 280 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 could ; but I want you to promise your mother not 
 to sign any paper^ or to do anything about your 
 property without letting me know first. The 
 Desmonds feel they have got our property un- 
 justly. They are all as cunning as serpents. 
 I am told there is a niece of Mr. Desmond's 
 — a Miss Butler — who is to have all the money. 
 She lives near you^ and it is said they will try 
 to make you marry her ; and, in that case, the 
 Desmonds would get the estates. Of course, you 
 are too young yet, but these bad people look a long 
 way ahead. I am dying to hear from you. I 
 will tell why you have not heard from me before, 
 some day. Believe me, it was for your good. 
 When you write direct to me, ' Mrs. Brady ' — you 
 have been taught, perhaps, to think I have no 
 right to the name — ' care of Messrs. Colville and 
 Arbuthnot, Madras."* With tears in my eyes, I 
 sign myself, 
 
 '^ Your loving mother, 
 
 "Mary Brady.'' 
 
 I read this long letter again and again. The 
 prayer-bell roused me from my study of every line. 
 Why did she write to me now ? Why had she 
 been silent for years ? Were all these warnings
 
 DOCTOR BKADY. 281 
 
 against secret macliinations devised to deprive me 
 of some unknown rights ? As I read " Miss 
 Butler's " name, and the words, ^' they will try to 
 make you marry her/^ my cheek flushed, and I felt 
 a little fluttering of my heart. 
 
 " EIow little can she know the truth V I sighed. 
 Marry Mary Butler ! Have you not been told the 
 truth of this hapless mother of yours ? See how 
 she seeks to arouse your suspicions of your friends ! 
 Are you not unhappy and suspicious now ? 
 Remember your grandfather's last injunctions ; 
 stern and cruel as they were, it is plain they were 
 just. No, Terence ; steel your heart. The day 
 will come when you wdll see her face to face. Then 
 you can hear and judge for yourself. If she loved 
 you so she would not leave you in your solitude 
 and sorrow. 
 
 Prayers were over. These reflections were my 
 prayer. 
 
 " And may Heaven have mercy on her and have 
 pity on me V closed them, as I rose from my knees. 
 
 We trooped off" to our rooms. My mother's 
 letter was next my heart. I had not read the 
 other yet, but I put my end of candle on my trunk 
 by the side of my cot, and opened it. It ran as 
 follows : —
 
 282 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Dublin, 
 
 ^^ Dear Terence_, — I am sorry to say that there 
 is no cheering intelligence to give you about 
 Lough-na-Carra. The country is in a dreadfiil 
 state, and no money is to be had at all. McTurk 
 and Skinner, who are, you may remember, attorneys 
 for that lady in India, have oddly enough turned 
 up as solicitors for an English mortgagee who 
 wants his money. In fact, I fear Sweatenham 
 College is too expensive for us, and you must make 
 up your mind to leave at Christmas. 
 
 " The lady I speak of has been playing some of 
 her pranks again. She is in the hands of some 
 smart fellows, and she has served the trustees with 
 notice that she has equitable claims in her own and 
 her son^s name on Lough-na-Carra, which she 
 intends to substantiate ; and, actually she is going, 
 she declares, to try Sir Richard^s title to Kilmoyle 
 by a writ of ejectment. I beg of you to enter on 
 no correspondence with her, as I hear she intends 
 to try and use you for her purposes. Remember 
 your grandfather^s advice, and his last request that 
 evening ! I believe he was right. 
 "Yours ever, 
 
 " A. Bates.''
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 283 
 
 ^^ Now_, then, you Paddywhack ! Put out your 
 dip, will you V' growled a great Jewish-looking 
 fellow,, named Morris, from the next bed. ^'^ Out 
 at once, do you hear, Mr. Potato ! What^s the use 
 of your reading letters from people who can^t 
 
 spell r 
 
 Mrs. Prince brought in a large piece of beef- 
 steak for Mr. Morris next morning. It was not 
 cooked. 
 
 There were one thousand lines of the '^ Odyssey^* 
 for me. I made up my mind that night. 
 
 '^ Kerens four pound nine and sixpence ; it was 
 all I could get,^^ said Dowly. I had now ascer- 
 tained his name was Pluckley, but the Greek 
 vocative of '^ slavey^^ had become the general way 
 of addressing him. " The watch was one pound 
 fifteen, and the clothes were only two pounds. I 
 couldn^t get more than a quid for all the books ; 
 the rest^s for my commission, you know. You can 
 give a good supper out of it V' 
 
 Whilst the house-boys were in the playground 
 and I was in *' The Study,^^ as it was called, en- 
 gaged, as it was supposed, on my never-ending task 
 of writing out lines, I was preparing a short letter 
 to Mr. Bates. I told him the story of my suffer- 
 ings. I was sorry to grieve him, but I could do
 
 284 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 nothing dishonourable ; I conld not hear to trouble 
 my friends. It would be better to let Lough-na- 
 Carra go altogether. He could sell off everything 
 except the portraits, and a few things my grand- 
 father prized. I would T\Trite to him as soon as I 
 had made up my mind_, and had got something to 
 do. And so, bathing the letter with tears — I knew 
 not why they fell — I sealed up my letter and put it 
 in my pocket. 
 
 There were three fellow-victims with me, biting 
 the ends of their pens or scribbling away, and at 
 intervals looking up at the open windows and envy- 
 ing the sparrows which twittered on the branches of 
 the old elm-tree outside. 
 
 " If any one asks,^^ said I, '^ say I am gone for 
 a walk." 
 
 ^^ By Jove, Brady, wont you catch it if your im- 
 position's not done this time V squeaked little 
 Tyrwhitt secundus. ^' You're too plucky by half V 
 
 " Well, I dare say I shall catch it, if they catch 
 me. Good-bye.'' 
 
 I walked along the passage, opened the door 
 into the garden, and in another minute was out in 
 the lane which led to the street. There were the 
 secret police of the college to be evaded if I got 
 out of bounds; but I knew Sweatenham weU by
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 285 
 
 this time, and turning down a cross street, I struck 
 out on the high road to London. I shied my 
 trencher over a hedge, took my cricket-cap from 
 under my jacket, and walked along at a fair pace 
 towards Todley station. I knew there would be an 
 up-train in half an hour, and I could just catch it. 
 As I live there is '' Sweet William,''-' our itinerant 
 confectioner, coming towards me ! I owe him three 
 shillings. 
 
 " You^re out for a spree, I ^spose, Mr. Brady ? 
 Thank you, sir. No change ! Well, that is hand- 
 some. I wish you^d tell Mr. Rundle I must have 
 the half-sovereign he got of me. It^s ruination to 
 deal with some of you young gentlemen ; it is, 
 indeed. Lor' bless you ! I wont say a word of see- 
 ing you. Good evening, master.''-' 
 
 The rail was on my right. I heard far off the 
 whistle of the engine leaving Sweatenham ; and 
 soon the rattle of the train came along with the 
 breeze. It was a hard race. How the black speck 
 and its cloud of steam grew on me as I ran and 
 looked over my shoulder ! Puff ! puff ! puff ! every 
 breath seemed to pant over me. The station is 
 close at hand — the bell is ringing — a country cab, 
 with a pile of luggage and an old lady and children 
 inside, all with eager faces turned to the train,
 
 286 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 are driving up_, the driver whipping the reeking 
 horse. 
 
 " 'Ma, there's Master Brady, of SnelPs/' 
 
 It is one of the horrid offspring of Mrs. Mather, 
 the wife of the college-porter. 
 
 I put on a tremendous spirt — bounded in through 
 the door as the porter was closing it — heard a cry 
 of despair from Mrs. Mather and the children. 
 
 " Second-class to London.-" 
 
 " No second-class, this train. First-class from 
 Todley to London. Now, sir, be quick V 
 
 The bell rang ; with another bound I was on the 
 platform, leaped into a carriage as the guard's whistle 
 blew and in a minute more, as I sat wiping my fore- 
 head, the die was cast. The express-train was rattling 
 onwards to London. My companions stared at 
 me; a stately old woman, whose novels I had dis- 
 turbed — a young gentleman, her son, on whose foot 
 I had trodden — a pretty little girl dozing in the 
 corner. The latter just looked up ; I was certainly 
 not the ideal of her doze, for she closed her eyes 
 again. The stately old lady was very restless. In 
 my inadvertent haste I had selected the seat next 
 the door which was opposite to her also ; and so, 
 after a minute, she said, '' Alfred, would you 
 mind asking this young gentleman to move his
 
 DOCTOE BRADY. 287 
 
 feet a little farther back: these carriages are so 
 narrow/' 
 
 Alfred looked at me severely. My poor feet had 
 crept like mice under the seat_, and had not crept 
 out again ere she spoke. 
 
 ^' Alfred^ would you see if I have not left one of 
 my books on that seat.^' 
 
 I had hopped up and left the seat void and open 
 for inspection ere the sentence was finished. 
 
 But the stately old lady^ who was_, I discovered,, 
 the wife not the mother of Alfred (and why he sat 
 at the opposite corner in face of the sleeping girl 
 was what I could not understand), resolved on war. 
 I was very hot from my race ; the carriage was like 
 a green-house. She called on Alfred to ask me to 
 put up the window. Then Alfred had to move a 
 great many cloaks and straps and cases from the net 
 over my head^ and brought his waistcoat-buttons 
 very close to my nose. Never was there such an inde- 
 fatigable old stateliness in adjusting herself Her 
 little skeleton foot was a beauty which could not be 
 destroyed by age^ and so it was in a constant state 
 of flourish. She dropped innumerable small arti- 
 cles upon me, and glanced at me angrily as if I 
 were the cause of their falling. 
 
 On sped the train, oscillating at the curves and
 
 288 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 jumping at the stations^ where we caught a phan- 
 tasm of faces and figures, running into a mass of 
 eyes and coats and dresses, like the visions of a night- 
 mare j and at each swing and roll and rock of the 
 carriages, the lady gave a little cry and clasped her 
 hands as if for mercy. It was intolerable. After 
 a long run of an hour the train stopped at Dins- 
 win. There was a row of young ladies in curls 
 behind a counter dressed with Banbury tarts, 
 cheesecakes, sandwiches and preserves under glass- 
 cases ; busy waiters, hovering about round tables 
 laden with quaint soups and such generous fare as 
 suits the taste of the travelling Briton in his own 
 land. I escaped from the stately and active old 
 lady. Ere the bell rang I had marked a vacant 
 seat in a carriage far away, and had esconced myself 
 in a corner. No one disturbed me as the train 
 moved on, for my only fellow passenger remained 
 asleep in one of the corners opposite. 
 
 I tried to think out some plan as we whirled on, 
 but my thoughts wandered into cloudland. I 
 counted my money — two pounds, a crown-piece, 
 three shillings, and a halfpenny. What was I 
 going to do ? I did not know. Had I not read 
 of many poorer than I who had made their fortune 
 once they were bold enough to seek it in the wide
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 289 
 
 wide world ? Was there no Brother Cheeryble who 
 would take pity on a poor lad as he gazed earnestly 
 on a windowful of advertisements ? Was there no 
 fortune left for a youngster who had faith and 
 courage,, and a desire to work for life and honour ? 
 
 London was before me ! There was bread to be 
 won and honour to be gained yet. I would not 
 tax the kindness of my friends ; I would leave 
 Lough-na-Carra to the care of those who would see 
 I suffered no wrong in my absence^ and then from 
 some distant land I would return with untold gold 
 and a proud name to retrieve the fortunes of my 
 house. I would wander to India and seek out the 
 repentant woman, who would cast herself into my 
 arms and drown my reproaches in her tears. We 
 should all be happy ! Far away in my reverie, as 
 the Alpine village is seen from the hill-top by the 
 weary traveller, indistinct in the evening shadows, 
 and yet the goal to which he is tending, there was 
 that to which I could scarce give form and sub- 
 stance. Would she welcome me when I returned 
 to lay all the rewards of my toil and long-suffering 
 at her feet ? How can I tell with what bliss my 
 dreams survived the ordeals through which my fancy 
 delighted to lead me ? 
 
 Here was I, a runaway from school — a fretful, 
 
 VOL. I. 19
 
 290 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 angry, disappointed boy — and yet in my reverie I 
 was a prince in fairy-land, scattering largesse all 
 about the world and Lough-na-Carra and Kilraoyle. 
 Would I change with that youngster opposite whose 
 valet came to the window when we stopped, to ask 
 '^ my lord^^ if he needed anything ; and who evi- 
 dently wondered what a schoolboy in a cap and 
 jacket, and without even a railway wrapper, could 
 be doing with his face flattened against the glass of 
 the carriage. I do not know if I would have ex- 
 changed my dreams for any reality short of their 
 fiill fruition. Would 1 have accepted even the 
 ideal I dreamed of as the full satisfaction of my 
 hopes and the end of all my aspirations ? 
 
 We flew along through the night ; the screech 
 of the steam was scaring the night-owls. There was 
 suddenly a cry which broke through my dreams. 
 The carriage groaned under the rigour of the 
 brakes. My companion''s head was out of the 
 window. 
 
 '^^ There's something wrong, I think/' he said. 
 '^ A smash of some kind at the end of the train.'' 
 
 With many groans and screams, the engine 
 whistling all the while, the train, shaking like a 
 living creature in mortal agony, halted at last. 
 There was a tramp of feet, a flashing of lights —
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 291 
 
 voices crying, '' Guard ! what is the matter ? — is 
 there any danger ?^^ 
 
 ^' By Gad ! I say, there is a smash/' repeated 
 my lord, and leaped out at his side of the carriage. 
 I followed him. Down in the dark the lamps 
 were glaring, and then arose a tumult as of an 
 agitated crowd. The citizens of the moving world 
 had been roused by the crash as when an earthquake 
 summons the sleepers to death. Swarming from the 
 carriages they came forth and thronged the narrow 
 line. Above cries of alarm and terror rose through 
 the night air the moan of the engine, and the fierce 
 hissing of the steam. Alas ! what a sight it was^ 
 The carriage I had left was the last but one. 
 Turning a curve in a steep embankment, the 
 coupling which held it and the van had broken^ 
 There was a pile of broken wood and ironwork 
 heaped up against the bank of earth. 
 
 In the midst of all that ruin there were the 
 dying and the dead. I stood staring vacantly at 
 the shapeless destruction before me. Am I an evil 
 genius ? Do I sow misery and death in my path ? I 
 was pushed aside by strong men. When I heard the 
 guard exclaim — " Will any one run to Langley, and 
 give the alarm ? — straight up the line, nigh four miles 
 away !" I was off like a deer, and outstripped my 
 
 19^2
 
 292 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 rivals in the race. I Tv^as glad to escape from the horrid 
 scene. I had seen the fair young girl drawn forth. 
 Oh ! let me not dwell on it. I ran through the nighty 
 fast by the road side along by the embankment, 
 from which I could see lights in houses far away, 
 where perhaps there was mirth, and happiness, and 
 revel; through deep cuttings, into which the stars 
 alone shone from above ; through a dark, dripping 
 tunnel, filled with the vapours of the night, in 
 which my footsteps echoed along the vaulted roof. 
 Once or twice I passed men at crossings, or seated 
 by their fires, and startled them as I ran by, 
 panting, with scarce voice enough to cry out — 
 "An awful accident! Help! help! Down the line^' — 
 and so ran on. My feet tripped on beams, on bars 
 of iron, on sleepers and heaps of ballast. I was on 
 my legs again regardless of bleeding hands and 
 feet. On and on, and still no town in sight — no 
 glare of lamps — no sign of succour; but on a 
 sudden turn there came in view an array of lights, 
 green and red, and the gas burning cheerily along 
 the station platform. I sped along with a fresh 
 effort. There was no one on the platform. Crying 
 out, " Help 1 help V' as I ran, I passed door after 
 door, till a handle yielded, and I was in a blaze of 
 ight — the first-class waiting-room, with its listless
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 293 
 
 or sleepy occupants, waiting for the London train. 
 I could scarce speak ; the place appeared to whirl 
 round me. '^'^For Heaven^s sake — Help! — Help! A 
 dreadful accident ! — Bishopshope ! four miles away." 
 I was faint and bleeding ; I had eaten but little 
 that day_, and had husbanded my little store. I 
 saw terrified eyes glaring upon me ; I heard voices 
 — a hundred questions. There was a cry_, " Get him 
 wine ! Send for a surgeon \" I remember no more. 
 
 There was a stranger sitting by my bedside, 
 when I recovered my senses. I was in a strange 
 room, neat, and clean, and small ; a dapper little 
 maid, with her hair tucked under a white cap, held 
 a cup in one hand, and a candle in the other, close 
 to the bed. The stranger had his fingers on my 
 wrist, and removed them. 
 
 " He^s all right ; no lesion of any consequence. 
 I must go off to assist at once. You may give him 
 some beef-tea or soup in an hour or so ; and I will 
 come to see how he is in the morning." 
 
 I was wide awake ; one hand was bound up ; I felt 
 a bandage on my knee ; but otherwise I was only 
 conscious of a great desire to eat. 
 
 "Tell me, sir, if you please, are many people 
 injured V 
 
 "We fear so. Telegraph reports some fatal
 
 294 THE ADVENTUKES OF 
 
 cases. Thank your stars you have escaped. Good- 
 bye for the present^ and keep quiet, and get a good 
 night^s sleep.^^ 
 
 The little maid stood still. 
 
 " What have you got there, please, Mary T' 
 
 '^ Physic. My name^s Anne, not Mary." 
 
 "Well, Anne, will you, if you please, throw 
 away that physic, or keep it for the doctor. I am 
 starving. Tell me where I am, who you are, and 
 if I can get anything to eat, and what time it is, 
 and all about the accident." 
 
 "Why it^s only ten minutes or so since you 
 scared the first-class waiting-room. Mrs. Pitcher, 
 in the bar, hasn-'t come to herself yet. Every 
 one in Langley's gone off* to Bishopshope. The 
 train from London arrived just after Mr. Stock, 
 the doctor, came, and theyVe all gone to the 
 place." 
 
 " But where is this ?" 
 
 " The Station Hotel, to be sure. I^m the second 
 chambermaid. Mrs. Jolly, our first, is looking 
 after beds, and hot water, and things, for it 
 will be a heavy night for us. Dear me, I''m quite 
 afeered to think when the trains do come in. All 
 your clothes is spoijcd ; but we must wait till 
 the luggage comes for a change."
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 295 
 
 " Anne^ I^m dreadfully hungry/^ 
 
 "The doctor said you was to have chicken- 
 brothj or the like of that,, in an hour/^ 
 
 " I tell you I shall die. I fainted, I sup- 
 pose, from want of something to eat. CanH you, 
 Anne ? — do get me something ; and do — do at 
 once \" 
 
 The little maid nodded her head, and laughed. 
 
 " Thank you, Anne.^^ 
 
 In a little she came in, bearing a tray with half 
 a cold fowl, and a small decanter of sherry, and 
 put it on the bed. I perceived for the first time 
 I could not use my hand. Anne saw the state of 
 the case at once. She cut up the fowl for me, and 
 smiled and nodded her head at every morsel I 
 took, helped me to wine, raised her plump hands 
 in wonder when I asked for more, and with a 
 " Well, I never V' and a pleasant laugh of wonder, 
 trotted off for fresh supplies, and repeated the 
 process. 
 
 There came the slow measured puff of an engine ; 
 the station bell rang, and was answered by all 
 the bells in the hotel. Little Anne turned very 
 pale. 
 
 " They're come,'^ she said. " This is the third 
 time weVe had them here. I do dread it, to be
 
 296 THE ADVENTUKES OF 
 
 sure. But I must go now. The waiters are back, 
 and if you want anything in the nighty one will 
 come/' 
 
 I could not rest ; I got up and listened. There 
 were heavy feet moving slip-shod^ as if carrying 
 burthens ; there were cries an d moans of agony ; 
 doors were shut and opened. The night was 
 awful. How could I sleep, and think that close 
 to me were those in mortal agony, expecting Death, 
 the Comforter ? But I crept back to my room at 
 last, and closed my eyes. 
 
 Mr. Stock found ^me quite well, all but a cut 
 hand and knees, in the morning. Two persons 
 were killed — one, the girl who sat in the corner, 
 and who was going up to meet her father, an officer 
 returning from India ; the other, an aged clergy- 
 man, journeying to London to thank a friend for 
 the gift of a preferment. Four passengers were so 
 hurt that their lives were in great danger ; and ten 
 had received contusions and injuries more or less 
 serious. There was to be a coroner^s inquest ; and 
 there was to be a Government inquiry; and I was 
 to be examined, for my activity was spoken of, 
 and it was supposed I could depose whether the 
 guard, and the driver, and the stokers were drunk 
 or sober, cool or collected; whether the signalman
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 297 
 
 at Bishopshope was on his post^ and many par- 
 ticulars of the kind, as to which I had not the 
 smallest knowledge. 
 
 Langley next day was full of mourners, of grief- 
 stricken, anxious relatives and friends. The doctors 
 were busy — the local men swarming in and out — 
 the great London Lamas coming in state in special 
 trains, and flying back again. The inquest was 
 over. I told all I knew. When I gave my name 
 and address, Sweatenham College, the coroner 
 looked grave. 
 
 " You will observe, gentlemen, the witness is 
 absent from the college, as I happen to know, for 
 my son is there — in Term time without leave, and 
 he is Irish. We must be cautious. ^^ 
 
 The coroner seemed to imply that I was somehow 
 implicated in causing the accident. 
 
 I had been cross-examined at great length, till 
 I thought some one must entertain doubts Avhether 
 the poor people were killed at all. I left the 
 room in which the ancient institution of the realm 
 was holding its ^quest, careless of their decision, for 
 it was little matter to me whom they found guilty. 
 An unfamiliar voice pronounced my name. Look- 
 ing round I saw a young man whom I had observed 
 in the room busily engaged in taking notes, and
 
 298 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 who was much talked at by the coroner and by Mr. 
 Maws^ the company^s solicitor, who was striving to 
 make out that the accident was a natural result of 
 railway travelling. 
 
 He was a good-looking, pleasant young fellow, 
 of two or three and twenty, stoutly built, of the 
 middle size, with curly head and light-brown 
 whiskers, and was dressed in rather extravagant 
 colours — a bright olive frock coat, blue cravat with 
 diamond pin, grey trousers, and patent leather 
 boots. 
 
 '' I hope you will excuse me for the liberty, but 
 may I ask when you are going up to town? My 
 name is Standish — Staples Standish, and I am down 
 here reporting the case for the Hercules ; but I am 
 going up by the next train, and if you^ll pardon 
 me,^^ — he hesitated for a moment — "we might 
 travel together. I want to ask you a few questions, 
 if you'll be so good. They've brought in a verdict 
 of ^ Murder' against the engine-driver, the stoker, 
 and the guard of the train, but no one minds 
 coroners' juries' verdicts much." 
 
 I had just been thinking what I was to do for 
 money. There was my hotel bill; there was my 
 ticket to be paid for; I had only to go back to 
 Sweatenham or write to Mr. Bates.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 299 
 
 " I really don't know when I shall leave, or 
 which way I am going, sir/'' 
 
 Mr. Standish stopped. 
 
 " That^s odd, isn^t it ? Yon are very yonng, and 
 of conrse I can't presume to offer an opinion ; but 
 it seems to me rather odd.'^ 
 
 And so it did to me. I could not tell what I 
 was doing, or what I intended to do. Naturalists 
 tell us that the force which drives forth the birds of 
 the air to cast themselves loose on the world is 
 some sort of magnetic impulse, and that the crea- 
 tures which speed over land and sea till they find 
 rest, and fill our groves with songs of love and 
 praise, are not conscious of their own efforts. 
 How many fail in the way — how many, battling in 
 vain with the storm, are swallowed up in the night- 
 wave ? I was like one of those birds — scarcely con- 
 scious of danger, I was flying I knew not where. 
 
 "The company, of course, will pay your hotel 
 bill and railway fare, and make your parents full 
 compensation, if required, for any injury you may 
 have sustained,'^ said Mr. Maws, who had sought 
 me out on the platform as I was walking up and 
 down with Mr. Standish. " We may require your 
 evidence, so you'll favour me with your London 
 address ?"
 
 300 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 " I have none — I know no one in London^ except 
 it be Sir Richard Desmond ; or there^s Captain 
 Window, Royal Navy. He lives somewhere there 
 too/' 
 
 ^* Give me, if yon like, in case yonr friends are 
 not in town,^' said Mr. Standish. " You know 
 my address, Maws — 1, Old- court, Temple. What 
 are the company going to stand for personal in- 
 juries to him, eh? Look at his hands and knees^ — 
 cuts — contusions — loss of services — There is matter 
 for a parent or guardian to make money out of!'' 
 continued Mr. Standish. " I would not take less 
 than 500/. down if I were either of them for his 
 injuries." 
 
 Mr. Maws smiled, and rubbed his hands. 
 
 " You gentlemen of the press are so very full of 
 spirits ! In case you are needed, sir, I will write 
 to Sir Richard Desmond, whom I happen to know. 
 Good morning, sir ! Good morning, Mr. Standish. 
 If you could say [sotto voce) that you know who 
 attended to watch the case on behalf of the com- 
 pany, and with his usual tact, et caetera, et csetera 
 — you understand me ? — I should really be 
 obliged. Good evening, and safe journey." 
 
 And Mr. Maws hurried back to his coroner and 
 his jury.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 301 
 
 " And so I would/'' continued Mr. Standish ; 
 ^just make them pay through the nose. Why 
 shouldn^t you ?^^ 
 
 " But I didn^t get cut in the accident. It was 
 in running for help afterwards '' 
 
 " All the same. If there had been no accident 
 there would have been no help needed ; if no help 
 had been needed you would not have been running 
 for it ! It is a clear case of constructive damages^ 
 as I would call them. No ? Well^ you are young 
 and ingenuous. You wont take a lot of money 
 when you can get it_, and you are going to London 
 to see people whose address you don^t know — and 
 you have got no luggage and no cash ! It is 
 quite a little adventure to meet you.^^ 
 
 I turned away. 
 
 " I presume my actions are free — at least I 
 intend them to be so.^' 
 
 " On my word, you wrong me if you fancy I 
 meant to be critical or inquisitive. Pray do not 
 think I was intrusive. I am half an Irishman 
 myself, and when I heard your story I could not 
 help thinking of a poor lad of your own age 
 journeying up to London, too, some years ago, to 
 look for friends whom he couldn^t find ; and I longed 
 to be of help to you, knowing how friendless tliat
 
 302 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 lad was^ and how much he would have given for a 
 word of sympathy — ay^ even for a look I" 
 
 He spoke earnestly, as he held out his hand, and 
 the hard metallic ring had left his tongue. 
 
 I took his hand. 
 
 " Well/^ he said, " shall we go together ? I 
 don^t want to know more than you like to tell me ; 
 but as I know ' the village/ I may be of use to you, 
 Andiam' ! andiam' /" 
 
 There was just time to bid little Anne good-bye 
 and to write a line of thanks to the surgeon, ere 
 the train came up. 
 
 Mr. Standish, who seemed to exercise great 
 influence, and to know every one, buttonholed an 
 official whom he called " Tunks,^^ which set me 
 wondering if he was related to the driver of the 
 Kilmoyle coach, and got a coupe for himself and 
 me. He produced an enormous pipe, and winking 
 at the guard, who thought it necessary to inform 
 him " it was against the rules,"" pufied out a cloud 
 of smoke — 
 
 " Oh, yes ! so I have heard. If you warn me 
 now, and find me smoking at the next station, it will 
 be forty shillings. All right ! Two minutes behind 
 time, guard. We^ll have another smash if you 
 don't look sharp V'
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 303 
 
 I gave a little shudder. I thought of the poor 
 sufferers who could not be moved in those sad little 
 rooms. The train was moving on, and as I looked 
 out of the window along the platform_, I saw Mr. 
 Bates running out of the Station Hotel towards 
 the carriages. It was too late; he did not even 
 see me. 
 
 '^ What do you see — the head master and all 
 the police of Sweatenham,, eh? You^re safe for 
 the present, anyway." 
 
 *^ No. It was actually my guardian. No doubt 
 he has come to look after me. He has heard from 
 Sweatenham, and perhaps he has seen my name in 
 the accounts in the papers.^ ^ 
 
 " "Well, it canH be helped now. You will not be 
 able to telegraph till we get to London, or, perhaps, 
 not even then, as Langley may be closed. Now 
 we will go to work ; and if I ask you a question 
 now and then you wont mind, I hope ?" 
 
 He produced a lamp out of his bag, fastened it 
 to the cloth lining of the carriage, lighted it, and, 
 opening a little book, began to write, balancing it on 
 his hand, as the carriage rocked to and fro at 
 express speed. 
 
 " Yes," he remarked ; ^^ this is all new to you — 
 new to most people till they see it. Of the
 
 304 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 thousands who will read at their breakfast tables 
 to-morrow morning a full report of the proceedings 
 of that coroner's jury so many miles away, not one, 
 probably, will think how it has been produced. 
 They fancy it comes of itself, like the leaves on 
 the trees, I daresay. I wont be in bed till four in 
 the morning. There's only one comfort I have — 
 the editor will be up later than I !" 
 
 ^ ^ -x- * 
 
 " London at last ! Here we are, my young 
 friend. It strikes me the best thing you can do is 
 to take a shake down at my chambers. It's late, 
 you know. They will scarcely like to take you in 
 without luggage — a lad like you — at the hotel. 
 'Pon my word, it's the best thiug you can do. 
 Here, come along. Porter ! a portmanteau, 
 marked ^ S,' from Langley. Get a cab ; look 
 sharp !" 
 
 I was standing amidst a rush of people. The 
 train had burst like a shell and sent them forth. 
 "What could I do better ? 
 
 '' I thank you ; but " 
 
 " But me no buts, as they say on the stage ; but 
 come along." 
 
 The shops were all closed. The long lines of 
 the lamps kept watch and ward along the streets.
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 305 
 
 I looked out into the night_, and wondered if there 
 were any of those I saw flitting along as desolate as 
 I felt. How little I knew ! The bells were chiming 
 for midnight. 
 
 "Do you hear? ' Turn again, runaway ! Go 
 back to Sweatenham !' Is that what they are say- 
 ing ? Well, you must have one day in London, at 
 all events.^^ 
 
 It seemed to me as if the streets and the 
 guardian lights were filing on and on with us as 
 we passed. My companion observed me in 
 silence. 
 
 " Yes ; you may well stare. That is a scene for 
 a civilized Christian people — the envy of surround- 
 ing nations — to show to the world. That^s the end 
 of the Haymarket — the beginning and end of many 
 a young gentleman about town/^ he said. " There 
 is the chorus — ' Murder ! police V Women scream- 
 ing — men fighting — oaths and laughter. It^s too 
 early for the tide to run to its height yet.^^ 
 
 The glare and the lights, and the tumult of 
 voices — the straggling figures — the whirling crowd 
 of men and women — passed away. In a few 
 minutes more, threading a maze of monster carts, 
 piled up with the spoils of the field, draAvn up by 
 the side of low colonnades, we passed down a nar- 
 
 voL. I. 20
 
 306 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 row lane — then by a church — then under a grimy- 
 archway, and drew up at a dark grey, iron-knobbed 
 gate. My companion got out and knocked. The 
 gate slowly opened ; and as I was wondering 
 whether he was some great lord who was acting 
 the part of the humble swain in Moore^s ballad, he 
 said — 
 
 " Here we are in the Temple. Come along. 
 Bring up the portmanteau, cabby. Top floor, 
 1, Old Court.^^ 
 
 It was a great quadrangle surrounded by sombre 
 walls with many doors and windows. 
 
 " This is our quarter," he said. " We are 
 among bigwigs, I can tell you. Look ! Do you 
 see that name over the door — ' Mr. Twister ^ ? 
 That^s Twister, Q.C. Great practice he has — ten 
 thousand a year at least. There^s Skittles, the 
 parliamentary man. He makes as much. Next 
 landing — up again ; and here we are." 
 
 He turned the key in a battered old black door, 
 over which was written, " Mr. Torrington Grubb, 
 Mr. H. Smith, Mr. W. H. Smith, Mr. Tredgold, 
 Mr. Standish." 
 
 " There^s a lot, isn^'t there ?" he asked, smiling. 
 " But we are not all in at present. They pay the 
 rent and keep their names up. I am the monarck
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 307 
 
 of all I survey. There^s no one to dispute my 
 right but the treasurer of the Honourable Society 
 of the Inner Temple. Now then, cabby, put down 
 that portmanteau. I want to go on to the Hercules 
 office, ril be down in a minute. Mind your head 
 against that doorway. Look out for the step — all 
 right. And here we are.^^ 
 
 I had been led through a small passage, and 
 found myself in a large, low-roofed room, sur- 
 rounded with book -shelves and old prints. A 
 round table, covered with papers, and letters, and 
 books, stood in the centre; and three easy chairs, 
 an old sofa, and a reading-desk, completed the 
 furniture. Over the chimney-piece was a very 
 sombre looking-glass, stuck full of old cards, bills, 
 and letters. The chimney-piece was garnished 
 with pipes of clay and meerschaum ; above it were 
 sets of foils, masks, and boxing-gloves. 
 
 Standish opened a door and let me get a glimpse 
 of a tiny bed-room, from which he emerged with a 
 pile of blankets and a pillow. 
 
 " Now,^^ he said, as he arranged them on the 
 sofa, " I install you in full possession, to have and 
 to hold as long as you like — your bed is ready 
 inside. You will find everything that luxury can 
 suggest or wealth procure in that cupboard: you
 
 308 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 can take the goods the gods provide you_, aided by 
 the goddess of Plenty^ Mrs. Chandler. This is the^ 
 key of the wine^ which is the only thing I dare 
 not trust to my deity _, for if I did she would leave 
 me poor indeed. There are more books than you 
 can read to-night ; There is a boot-jack. If you 
 hear a noise in the morning don^t mind it ; I 
 shall be coming in at all hours. AYe will get a 
 fellow to look at your cuts in the morning. Sleep> 
 well — good night." 
 
 And with a cheerful laugh he closed the door ;. 
 I heard his light step bounding down-stairs past 
 Twister, Q.C, and then all was silent. 
 
 It was to little purpose I sat and tliought_, for 
 my mind wandered away to the past, and then 
 dwelt on the impossible project, which I scarcely 
 could shape to my own mind. In that profound- 
 solitude I could not believe I was in London. I 
 went to the window; there was a faint streak of 
 light in the sky ; spires innumerable ; a forest of 
 steeples and chimney-pots ; a great dome rising to 
 the sky, on the summit of which a ball and cross 
 were warming into colour; a grey, cold stream, on 
 which black barges floated aAvay past the angle of 
 the walls which bounded my view. These grew 
 out of a shadowy background, and that was alL
 
 DOCTOR BRADY. 309' 
 
 It might be a dream of a city of the old and bygone 
 world, in some occult desert. Hark ! there is a 
 sound at last. It is a song — a very husky sort of 
 A'ocalization, joyous withal. It echoes through the 
 court below, and as it comes nearer, " "VVe wont go 
 home till morning ! we wont go home till morning V 
 Well, go home now. It is morning already. The 
 sparrows twitter in the eaves and in the trees which 
 uplift their leafy honours round the walls of brick: 
 their day^s work is before them. The growing light 
 as it strengthens struggles with the smoky arms 
 raised from their chimney cradles to smother it. As 
 I lay down on the stranger^s bed I felt I had con- 
 signed him to the ancient sofa; and thanking 
 heaven for its mercies, I felt thankful too that in 
 this waste so full of life I was not quite cut off 
 from human sympathy. 
 
 END OF VOL. I.
 
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