or so later, was a portion which Roderick knew was intended for me and over which he gloated in his cups. Therefore, I say, I felt no pity for him, and I set about to perform my part of the task with determination to go through with it to the best of my power. My rags were now discarded, and the clothes which I wore, and which Oliver had purchased for me with some of O'Rourke's guineas, were in themselves a disguise. To wit, I wore a fine silk drugget suit lined with silk shagreen, for which he had given six of the pieces; my muslin ruffles were of the best, a pair of long riding-boots covered my stockings to the knees, and a handsome roquelaure enveloped me and kept the cold out. To add to my disguise as well as my appearance, I wore a bag wig, and at my side-Oliver said I might find some use for it ere long-a good sound rapier. Who could have guessed that in the youth thus handsomely apparelled, and looking any age near twenty-two or three-the wig and boots giving me an appearance much above my actual years-they saw the beggar who, a fortnight before, slunk about the streets of Dublin dressed as a scarecrow!
The wind still blew from the same quarter as I passed down the street in which Quin dwelt, while one or two passers-by turned to look at the unaccustomed sight of a well-dressed young man in such a neighbourhood, and as I went along I meditated on all that was before me. Moreover, I could not but muse on how strange it was that such a worldly-wise villain as O'Rourke, to say nothing of those others, my uncle and Considine, could have fallen so easily into the trap of Oliver and have been willing to believe in his turning against me thus treacherously. Yet, I told myself, 'twas not so very strange after all. They could never have dreamt, no mortal man could possibly have dreamt, that he should have conceived so audacious and bold a scheme of turning the tables on them so completely as to dare to kidnap his very employer's own child in place of the one he wanted to have transported to the colonies. And, when they trusted him, if they did in very truth trust him, they only did so to a small extent, since, if he failed to produce me and to yield me over to the tender clutches of the captain of the Dove, they had but lost a handful of guineas and could make a cast for me again. Lastly, as I learned more surely when I grew older, when men are such uncommon rogues as these three were, they are often bound, whether they will or no, to hope that others with whom they have dealings are as great rogues as they themselves, and to make their plans and rely upon that hope accordingly.
Thus meditating and resolving on what I had to do, I drew near to Macarthy's tavern-then one of the most fashionable in the city-and, raising myself on tiptoes, I peeped over the blind and saw my gentleman within regaling himself on a fine turbot, with, to keep him company, another youth and two young women, much bedizened and bedeckt. These I knew, having seen them before, to belong to the company of actors who had been engaged to play at the new theatre in Aungier Street.
CHAPTER VI
THE BIRD DRAW'S NEAR
And now it behoved me to pause and consider as to what course it would be best for me to follow. It was as yet but seven of the clock, and Quin quitted not his stall until eight, so that it would be impossible, or rather useless, to apprise him of my cousin's whereabouts. Moreover, nothing could be done at this early hour of the evening, while, on the other hand, when night came on and it grew late it was almost a certainty that Roderick would be in his cups. Yet it would not do to lose sight of him, for should he wander forth from Macarthy's, as was like enough seeing the company he was in, we might not find him again that night, in which case the Dove, if she sailed at dawn, would have to go without my gentleman.
So I determined to enter the tavern. Of recognition from Roderick there was but little likelihood-nay, there was none at all. It was six years since he had seen me (though scarcely many more days since I had seen him without his knowing it); six years since he had drowned my pup, there collection of which made my hatred of him now stir afresh in me; years during which I had been at school in two or three different towns in the country, and also had been in England; and these years had made much difference between the child of ten and the youth of sixteen. And, as I have written, what with my height, which was considerable, and my dress, which was more suited to a young man of twenty than to me, there was no possibility of Roderick knowing me. So I determined to enter the tavern, I say, and to ensconce myself in a box near where my cousin and the actresses sat, and which from the window I could perceive was vacant, and thus glean what news I might of his intended action that night. My entrance caused some little attention, the room not being well filled as yet, and "What a pretty fellow!" said one of the girls to the other in a very audible voice as I took my seat in the place I had selected.
"I' faith!" replied the second, a painted minx, like her friend, with half a score of patches on her face-"pretty enough, but too much like a girl. For my part, I prefer to look upon a man. Now, Roddy, here, hath none too much beauty yet enough, or will have when he is a man."
"When he is a man!" my cousin said, "when he is a man, indeed! Man enough any way to find the wherewithal for giving you a good supper, Mistress Doll, which it strikes me you would not get from your wages nor from any of your 'manly' actors who strut about the booths with you, nor from the half-starved looking playwrights I have seen lurking about the theatre doors."
"There! there! Roddy!" said the one who had spoken last, swallowing his abuse as best she might, "there, there! Take no offence where none is meant, and, for the supper, 'tis most excellent. Yet the claret runs low, my lad, and I am thirsty."
"Thirsty!" the gracious Roderick replied; "that you are always, Doll, like all your crew. But claret is useless to such as thee! Here, drawer, waiter, come here. Bring us some of the brandy punch that Macarthy knows so well how to brew, and quick-dost hear?"
"The score, sir," I heard the man whisper, "is large already. And I have to account to the master-"
"The devil take you, and the score, and your master, too! Is not my father the Honourable Viscount St. Amande, thou rogue, and can he not pay for all the liquor I drink as well as what my friends consume? Go, fetch it, I say."
Meanwhile I sat in my box sipping a small measure of claret-which stuff I wondered some could be found to approve so much of-and regarding sideways the others. The punch being brought, my cousin, with a lordly air, bade the other young man ladle it out, telling him coarsely to keep the glasses of the girls well filled, since they were capable of drinking the Liffey dry if 'twere full of liquor; and the women, taking no notice of these remarks, to which and similar ones they were probably well used, fell to discussing some play in which they were shortly to appear.
"The lines are fair enough," said the elder of the two, whom Roderick had fallen foul of, to the other; "yet there are too many of them, and the action halts. Moreover, as for plot-why, there's none."
"'Tis the failing of our modern playwrights," said her companion, "that there never seems to be any, so that the audiences soon weary of us. Yet, if at Lincoln's Inn or Drury Lane they would try more for the plot, I feel sure that-"
"Plot!" here, however, interrupted my well beloved cousin, who was by this time approaching intoxication, and adding noise to his other modes of entertaining his guests, "who's talking about plots? Plots, forsooth!" And now he smiled feebly, and then hiccoughed, "Plots, eh? I know a plot, and a good one, too."
"With submission, sir," said Doll, looking angrily at him-for she had evidently not forgiven his remarks-"we were talking about the difficulty that 'half-starved looking playwrights' found in imagining new plots for the playhouses and our crew, the actors. It follows, therefore, that even though the noble Mr. Roderick St. Amande should know a good plot, as he says, it could avail us nothing. He surely could not sink his nobility so low as to communicate such a thing to the poor mummers."
"Ha, ha!" answered Roderick, "but couldn't he, though. I' faith, I'll tell you a good plot-take some more drink, I say! – and when next some snivel-nosed dramatist wants a-a-what d'ye call it, a-plot, tell him this."
"We are all attention, sir. This is indeed an honour. We have of late had more than one noble lord as patron
