you men, you men, Eugenio!’ said she (the beast’s name was John), ‘your passion is not equal to ours. We are like—like some plant I’ve read of—we bear but one flower and then we die!’
‘Do you mean you never felt an inclination for another?’ said Captain Quin.
‘Never, my Eugenio, but for thee! How can you ask a blushing nymph such a question?’
‘Darling Norelia!’ said he, raising her hand to his lips.
I had a knot of cherry-coloured ribands, which she had given me out of her breast, and which somehow I always wore upon me. I pulled these out of my bosom, and flung them in Captain Quin’s face, and rushed out with my little sword drawn, shrieking, ‘She’s a liar—she’s a liar, Captain Quin! Draw, sir, and defend yourself, if you are a man!’ and with these words I leapt at the monster, and collared him, while Nora made the air echo with her screams; at the sound of which the other captain and Mysie hastened up.
Although I sprang up like a weed in my illness, and was now nearly attained to my full growth of six feet, yet I was but a lath by the side of the enormous English captain, who had calves and shoulders such as no chairman at Bath ever boasted. He turned very red, and then exceedingly pale at my attack upon him, and slipped back and clutched at his sword—when Nora, in an agony of terror, flung herself round him, screaming, ‘Eugenio! Captain Quin, for Heaven’s sake spare the child—he is but an infant.’
‘And ought to be whipped for his impudence,’ said the Captain; ‘but never fear, Miss Brady, I shall not touch him; your FAVOURITE is safe from me.’ So saying, he stooped down and picked up the bunch of ribands which had fallen at Nora’s feet, and handing it to her, said in a sarcastic tone, ‘When ladies make presents to gentlemen, it is time for OTHER gentlemen to retire.’
‘Good heavens, Quin!’ cried the girl; ‘he is but a boy.’
‘I am a man,’ roared I, ‘and will prove it.’
‘And don’t signify any more than my parrot or lap-dog. Mayn’t I give a bit of riband to my own cousin?’
‘You are perfectly welcome, miss,’ continued the Captain, ‘as many yards as you like.’
‘Monster!’ exclaimed the dear girl; ‘your father was a tailor, and you are always thinking of the shop. But I’ll have my revenge, I will! Reddy, will you see me insulted?’
‘Indeed, Miss Nora,’ says I, ‘I intend to have his blood as sure as my name’s Redmond.’
‘I’ll send for the usher to cane you, little boy,’ said the Captain, regaining his self-possession; ‘but as for you, miss, I have the honour to wish you a good-day.’
He took off his hat with much ceremony, made a low CONGE, and was just walking off, when Mick, my cousin, came up, whose ear had likewise been caught by the scream.
‘Hoity-toity! Jack Quin, what’s the matter here?’ says Mick; ‘Nora in tears, Redmond’s ghost here with his sword drawn, and you making a bow?’
‘I’ll tell you what it is, Mr. Brady,’ said the Englishman: ‘I have had enough of Miss Nora, here, and your Irish ways. I ain’t used to ‘em, sir.’
‘Well, well! what is it?’ said Mick good-humouredly (for he owed Quin a great deal of money as it turned out); ‘we’ll make you used to our ways, or adopt English ones.’
‘It’s not the English way for ladies to have two lovers’ (the ‘Henglish way,’ as the captain called it), ‘and so, Mr. Brady, I’ll thank you to pay me the sum you owe me, and I’ll resign all claims to this young lady. If she has a fancy for schoolboys, let her take ‘em, sir.’
‘Pooh, pooh! Quin, you are joking,’ said Mick.
‘I never was more in earnest,’ replied the other.
‘By Heaven, then, look to yourself!’ shouted Mick. ‘Infamous seducer! infernal deceiver!—you come and wind your toils round this suffering angel here—you win her heart and leave her—and fancy her brother won’t defend her? Draw this minute, you slave! and let me cut the wicked heart out of your body!’
‘This is regular assassination,’ said Quin, starting back; ‘there’s two on ‘em on me at once. Fagan, you won’t let ‘em murder me?’
‘Faith!’ said Captain Fagan, who seemed mightily amused, ‘you may settle your own quarrel, Captain Quin;’ and coming over to me, whispered, ‘At him again, you little fellow.’
‘As long as Mr. Quin withdraws his claim,’ said I, ‘I, of course, do not interfere.’
‘I do, sir—I do,’ said Mr. Quin, more and more flustered.
‘Then defend yourself like a man, curse you!’ cried Mick again. ‘Mysie, lead this poor victim away—Redmond and Fagan will see fair play between us.’
‘Well now—I don’t—give me time—I’m puzzled—I—I don’t know which way to look.’
‘Like the donkey betwixt the two bundles of hay,’ said Mr. Fagan drily, ‘and there’s pretty pickings on either side.’
1. As we have never been able to find proofs of the marriage of my ancestor Phaudrig with his wife, I make no doubt that Lyndon destroyed the contract, and murdered the priest and witnesses of the marriage.—B. L.
2. In another part of his memoir Mr. Barry will be found to describe this mansion as one of the most splendid palaces in Europe; but this is a practice not unusual with his nation; and with respect to the Irish principality claimed by him, it is known that Mr. Barry’s grandfather was an attorney and maker of his own fortune.
CHAPTER II.
I SHOW MYSELF TO BE A MAN OF SPIRIT
During this dispute, my cousin Nora did the only thing that a lady, under such circumstances, could do, and fainted in due form. I was in hot altercation with Mick at the time, or I should have, of course, flown to her assistance, but Captain Fagan (a dry sort of fellow this Fagan was) prevented me, saying, ‘I advise you to leave the young lady to herself, Master Redmond, and be sure she will come to.’ And so indeed, after a while, she did, which has shown me since that Fagan knew the world pretty well, for many’s the lady I’ve seen in after times recover in a similar manner. Quin did not offer to help her, you may be sure, for, in the midst of the diversion, caused by her screaming, the faithless bully stole away.
‘Which of us is Captain Quin to engage?’ said I to Mick; for it was my first affair, and I was as proud of it as of a suit of laced velvet. ‘Is it you or I, Cousin Mick, that is to have the honour of chastising this insolent Englishman?’ And I held out my hand as I spoke, for my heart melted towards my cousin under the triumph of the moment.
But he rejected the proffered offer of friendship. ‘You—you!’ said he, in a towering passion; ‘hang you for a meddling brat: your hand is
