PAGE 4
The Bridal Of Carrigvarah
by
[1] Father Purcell seems to have had an admiration for the beauties of nature, particularly as developed in the fair sex; a habit of mind which has been rather improved upon than discontinued by his successors from Maynooth.–ED,
Dwyer strolled carelessly onward by the banks of the stream, leaving his young companion leaning over the gate in close and interesting parlance with Ellen Heathcote; as he moved on, he half thought, half uttered words to this effect:
‘Insolent young spawn of ingratitude and guilt, how long must I submit to be trod upon thus; and yet why should I murmur–his day is even now declining– and if I live a year, I shall see the darkness cover him and his for ever. Scarce half his broad estates shall save him–but I must wait–I am but a pauper now–a beggar’s accusation is always a libel–they must reward me soon–and were I independent once, I’d make them feel my power, and feel it SO, that I should die the richest or the best avenged servant of a great man that has ever been heard of–yes, I must wait–I must make sure of something at least–I must be able to stand by myself–and then–and then–‘ He clutched his fingers together, as if in the act of strangling the object of his hatred. ‘But one thing shall save him–but one thing only–he shall pay me my own price–and if he acts liberally, as no doubt he will do, upon compulsion, why he saves his reputation–perhaps his neck –the insolent young whelp yonder would speak in an humbler key if he but knew his father’s jeopardy–but all in good time.’
He now stood upon the long, steep, narrow bridge, which crossed the river close to Carrigvarah, the family mansion of the O’Maras; he looked back in the direction in which he had left his companion, and leaning upon the battlement, he ruminated long and moodily. At length he raised himself and said:
‘He loves the girl, and WILL love her more–I have an opportunity of winning favour, of doing service, which shall bind him to me; yes, he shall have the girl, if I have art to compass the matter. I must think upon it.’
He entered the avenue and was soon lost in the distance.
Days and weeks passed on, and young O’Mara daily took his rod and net, and rambled up the river; and scarce twelve hours elapsed in which some of those accidents, which invariably bring lovers together, did not secure him a meeting of longer or shorter duration, with the beautiful girl whom he so fatally loved.
One evening, after a long interview with her, in which he had been almost irresistibly prompted to declare his love, and had all but yielded himself up to the passionate impulse, upon his arrival at home he found a letter on the table awaiting his return; it was from his father to the following effect:
‘To Richard O’Mara.
‘September, 17–, L—-m, England.
‘MY DEAR SON,–
‘I have just had a severe attack of my old and almost forgotten enemy, the gout. This I regard as a good sign; the doctors telling me that it is the safest development of peccant humours; and I think my chest is less tormenting and oppressed than I have known it for some years. My chief reason for writing to you now, as I do it not without difficulty, is to let you know my pleasure in certain matters, in which I suspect some shameful, and, indeed, infatuated neglect on your part, “quem perdere vult deus prius dementat:” how comes it that you have neglected to write to Lady Emily or any of that family? the understood relation subsisting between you is one of extreme delicacy, and which calls for marked and courteous, nay, devoted attention upon your side. Lord —-is already offended; beware what you do; for as you will find, if this match be lost by your fault or folly, by —-I will cut you off with a shilling. I am not in the habit of using threats when I do not mean to fulfil them, and that you well know; however I do not think you have much real cause for alarm in this case. Lady Emily, who, by the way, looks if possible more charming than ever, is anything but hard-hearted, at least when YOU solicit; but do as I desire, and lose no time in making what excuse you may, and let me hear from you when you can fix a time to join me and your mother here.