The Knight Of Gwynne, Vol. 2. Lever Charles James

fear you must allow me to keep that a secret,” said Forester, in some confusion.

      “Scarcely fair, that, my young friend,” said Heffernan, laughing, “after hearing my confession in full.”

      Forester seemed to feel the force of the observation, but, uncertain how to act, he maintained a silence for several minutes.

      “If the affair were altogether my own, I should not hesitate,” said he at length, “but it is not so. However, we are in confidence here, and so I will tell you. I came to this part of the country at the earnest desire of Lionel Darcy. I don’t know whether you are aware of his sudden departure for India. He had asked for leave of absence to give evidence on this trial; the application was made a few days after a memorial he sent in for a change of regiment. The demand for leave was unheeded, but he received a peremptory order to repair to Portsmouth, and take charge of a detachment under sailing-orders for India; they consisted of men belonging to the Eleventh Light Dragoons, of which he was gazetted to a troop. I was with him at Chatham when the letter reached him, and he explained the entire difficulty to me, showing that he had no alternative, save neglecting the interest of his family, on the one hand, or refusing that offer of active service he had so urgently solicited on the other. We talked the thing over one entire night through, and at last, right or wrong, persuaded ourselves that any evidence he could give would be of comparatively little value; and that the refusal to join would be deemed a stain upon him as an officer, and probably be the cause of greater grief to the Knight himself than his absence at the trial. Poor fellow! he felt for more deeply for quitting England without saying good-bye to his family than for all the rest.”

      “And so he actually sailed in the transport?” said Heffernan.

      “Yes, and without time for more than a few lines to his father, and a parting request to me to come over to Ireland and be present at the trial. Whether he anticipated any attack of this kind or not, I cannot say, but he expressed the desire so strongly I half suspect as much.”

      “Very cleverly done, faith!” muttered Heffernan, who seemed far more occupied with his own reflections than attending to Forester’s words; “a deep and subtle stroke, Master O’Reilly, ably planned and as ably executed.”

      “I am rejoiced that Lionel escaped this scene, at all events,” said Forester.

      “I must say, it was neatly done,” continued Heffernan, still following out his own train of thought; “‘Non contigit cuique,’ as the Roman says; it is not every man can take in Con Heffernan, – I did not expect Hickman O’Reilly would try it.” He leaned his head on his hand for some minutes, then said aloud, “The best thing for you will be to join your regiment.”

      “I have left the army,” said Forester, with a flush, half of shame, half of anger.

      “I think you were right,” replied Heffernan, calmly, while he avoided noticing the confusion in the young man’s manner. “Soldiering is no career for any man of abilities like yours; the lounging life of a barrack-yard, the mock duties of parade, the tiresome dissipations of the mess, suit small capacities and minds of mere routine. But you have better stuff in you, and, with your connections and family interest, there are higher prizes to strive for in the wheel of fortune.”

      “You mistake me,” said Forester, hastily; “it was with no disparaging opinion of the service I left it. My reasons had nothing in common with such an estimate of the army.”

      “There’s diplomacy, for instance,” said Heffernan, not minding the youth’s remark; “your brother has influence with the Foreign Office.”

      “I have no fancy for the career.”

      “Well, there are Government situations in abundance. A man must do something in our work-a-day world, if only to be companionable to those who do. Idleness begets ennui and falling in love; and although the first only wearies for the time, the latter lays its impress on all a man’s after-life, fills him with false notions of happiness, instils wrong motives for exertion, and limits the exercise of capacity to the small and valueless accomplishments that find favor beside the work-table and the piano.”

      Forester received somewhat haughtily the unasked counsels of Mr. Heffernan respecting his future mode of life, nor was it improbable that he might himself have conveyed his opinion thereupon in words, had not the appearance of the waiter to prepare the table for dinner interposed a barrier.

      “At what hour shall I order the horses, sir?” asked the man of Heffernan.

      “Shall we say eight o’clock, or is that too early?”

      “Not a minute too early for me,” said Forester; “I am longing to leave this place, where I hope never again to set foot.”

      “At eight, then, let them be at the door; and whenever your cook is ready, we dine.”

      CHAPTER VI. AN UNLOOKED-FOR PROMOTION

      The same post that brought the Knight the tidings of his lost suit conveyed the intelligence of his son’s departure for India; and although the latter event was one over which, if in his power, he would have exercised no control, yet was it by far the more saddening of the two announcements.

      Unable to apply any more consolatory counsels, his invariable reply to Lady Eleanor was, “It was a point of duty; the boy could not have done otherwise; I have too often expressed my opinion to him about the devoirs of a soldier to permit of his hesitating here. And as for our suit, Mr. Bicknell says the jury did not deliberate ten minutes on their verdict; whatever right we might have on our side, it was pretty clear we had no law. Poor Lionel is spared the pain of knowing this, at least.” He sighed heavily, and was silent. Lady Eleanor and Helen spoke not either; and except their long-drawn breathings nothing was heard in the room.

      Lady Eleanor was the first to speak. “Might not Lionel’s evidence have given a very different coloring to our cause if he had been there?”

      “It is hard to say. I am not aware whether we failed upon a point of fact or law. Mr. Bicknell writes like a man who felt his words were costly matters, and that he should not put his client to unnecessary expense. He limits himself to the simple announcement of the result, and that the charge of the bench was very pointedly unfavorable. He says something about a motion for a new trial, and regrets Daly’s having prevented his engaging Mr. O’Halloran, and refers us to the newspapers for detail.”

      “I never heard a question of this O’Halloran,” said Lady Eleanor, “nor of Mr. Daly’s opposition to him before.”

      “Nor did I, either; though, in all likelihood, if I had, I should have been of Bagenal’s mind myself. Employing such men has always appeared to me on a par with the barbarism of engaging the services of savage nations in a war against civilized ones; and the practice is defended by the very same arguments, – if they are not with you, they are against you.”

      “You are right, my dear father,” said Helen, while her countenance glowed with unusual animation; “leave such allies to the enemy if he will, no good cause shall be stained by the scalping-knife and the tomahawk.”

      “Quite right, my dearest child,” said he, fondly; “no defeat is so bad as such a victory.”

      “And where was Mr. Daly? He does not seem to have been at the trial?”

      “No; it would appear as if he were detained by some pressing necessity in Dublin. This letter is in his handwriting; let us see what he says.”

      Before the Knight could execute his intention, old Tate appeared at the door, and announced the name of Mr. Dempsey.

      “You must present our compliments,” said Darcy, hastily, “and say that a very particular engagement will prevent our having the pleasure of receiving his visit this evening.”

      “This is really intolerable,” said Lady Eleanor, who, never much disposed to look favorably on that gentleman, felt his present appearance anything but agreeable.

      “You hear what your master says,” said Helen to the old man, who, never having in his whole life received a similar order, felt proportionately astonished and