As well as I could observe him, he was a magnificent horse--a little too heavy perhaps about the crest and forehand, but then so strong behind, such powerful muscle about the haunches, that his balance was well preserved. As I stood contemplating him in silence, I felt the breath of some one behind me. I turned suddenly around; it was Father Tom Loftus himself. There was the worthy priest, mopping his forehead with a huge pocket-handkerchief and blowing like a rhinoceros.
"Ugh!" said he at length, "I have been running up and down the roads this half-hour after you, and there"s not a puff left in me."
"Ah, father! I hoped to have seen you at the inn." "Whisht! I darn"t.
I thought I"d do it better my own way; but, see now, we"ve no time to lose. I knew as well as yourself you never intended to ride this race.
No matter; don"t say a word, but listen to me. I know the horse better than any one in these parts; and it isn"t impossible, if you can keep the saddle over the first two or three fences, that you may win. I say, if you can--for "faith it"s not in a "swing-swong" you"ll be! But, come now, the course was marked out this evening. Burke was over it before dinner; and, with a blessing, we will be before supper. I"ve got a couple of hacks here that"ll take us over every bit of it; and perhaps it is not too much to say you might have a worse guide."
""Faith, your reverence," chimed in the groom, "he"d find it hard to have a better."
Thanking the kind priest for his good-natured solicitude, I followed him out upon the road, where the two horses were waiting us.
"There, now," said he, "get up; the stirrups are about your length. He looks a little low in flesh, but you"ll not complain of him when he"s under you."
The next moment we were both in the saddle. Taking a narrow path that led off from the highroad, we entered a large tilled field; keeping along the headlands of which, we came to a low stone wall, through a gap of which we pa.s.sed, and came out upon an extensive piece, of gra.s.sland, that gently sloped away from where we were standing to a little stream at its base, an arm of that which supplied the mill.
"Here, now," said the priest, "a little to the left yonder is the start.
You come down this hill; you take the water there, and you keep along by Freney"s house, where you see the trees there. There"s only a small stone wall and a clay ditch between this and that; afterwards you turn off to the right. But, come now, are you ready? We"ll explore a bit."
As he spoke, the good priest, putting spurs to his hackney, dashed on before me, and motioning me to follow, cantered down the slope. Taking the little mill-stream at a fly, he turned in his saddle to watch my performance.
"Neat! mighty neat!" cried he, encouraging me. "Keep your hand a little low. The next is a wall----"
Scarcely had he spoke when we both came together at a stone-fence, about three feet high. This time I was a little in advance, as my horse was fresher, and took it first.
"Oh, the devil a better!" said Father Tom. "Burke himself couldn"t beat that! Here, now: keep this way out of the deep ground, and rush him at the double ditch there."
Resolved on securing his good opinion, I gripped my saddle firmly with my knees, and rode at the fence. Over we went in capital style; but lighting on the top of a rotten ditch, the ground gave way, and my horse"s hind legs slipped backwards into the gripe. Being at full stretch, the poor animal had no power to recover himself, so that, disengaging his forelegs, I pulled him down into the hollow, and then with a vigorous dash of the spur and a bold lift carried him clean over it into the field.
"Look, now!" said the priest; "that pleases me better than all you did before. Presence of mind--that"s the real gift for a horseman when he"s in a sc.r.a.pe; but, mind me, it was your own fault, for here"s the way to take the fence." So saying, he made a slight semicircle in the field, and then, as he headed his horse towards the leap, rushed him at it furiously, and came over like the bound of a stag.
"Now," said Father Tom, pointing with his whip as he spoke, "we have a beautiful bit of galloping-ground before us; and if you ever reach this far, and I don"t see why you shouldn"t, here"s where you ought to make play. Listen to me now," said he, dropping his voice: "Tom Molloy s mare isn"t thoroughbred, though they think she is. She has got a bad drop in her. Now, the horse is all right, clean bred, sire and dam, by reason he "ll be able to go through the dirt when the mare can"t; so that all you "ve to do, if, as I said before, you get this far, is to keep straight down to the two thorn-bushes--there, you see them yonder. Burke won"t be able to take that line, but must keep upon the headlands, and go all round yonder; look, now, you see the difference--so that before he can get over that wide ditch you"ll be across it, and making for the stone wall After that, by the powers, if you don"t win, I, can"t help you!"
"Where does the course turn after, father?" said I.
"Oh! a beautiful line of flat country, intersprinkled with walls, ditches, and maybe a hedge or two; but all fair, and only one rasping fence--the last of all. After that, you have a clean gallop of about a quarter of a mile, over as nice a sod as ever you cantered."
"And that last fence, what is it like?"
""Faith, it is a rasper! It"s a wide gully, where there was a _boreen_ once, and they say it is every inch of sixteen feet--that"ll make it close upon twenty when you clear the clay on both sides. The grey horse, I"m told, has a way of jumping in and jumping out of these narrow roads; but take my advice, and go it in a fly. And now, Captain, what between the running, and the riding, and the talking altogether, I am as dry as a limekiln; so what do you say if we turn back to town, and have a bit of supper together? There"s a kind of a cousin of mine, one Bob Mahon, a Major in the Roscommon, and he has got a grouse-pie, and something hot to dilute it with, waiting for us."
"Nothing will give me more pleasure, father; and there"s only one thing more--indeed I had nearly forgotten it altogether----""
"What"s that?" said the priest, with surprise.
"Not having any intention to ride, I left town without any racing equipment; breeches and boots I have, but as to a cap and a jacket----"
"I "ve provided for both," said Father Tom. "You saw the little man with a white head that sat at the head of the table--Tom Dillon of Mount Brown; you know him?"
"I am not acquainted with him."
"Well, he knows you; that"s all the same. His son, that"s just gone to Gibraltar with his regiment, was about your size, and he had a new cap and jacket made for this very race, and of course they are lying there and doing nothing. So I sent over a little gossoon with a note, and I don"t doubt but they are all at the inn this moment."
"By Jove, father!" said I, "you are a real friend, and a most thoughtful one, too."
"Maybe I"ll do better than that for you," said he, with a sly wink of his eye, that somehow suggested to my mind that he knew more of and took a deeper interest in me than I had reason to believe.
CHAPTER XXIII. MAJOR MAHON AND HIS QUARTERS
The Major"s quarters were fixed in one of the best houses in the town, in the comfortable back-parlour of which was now displayed a little table laid for three persons. A devilled lobster, the grouse-pie already mentioned, some fried ham, and crisped potatoes were the viands; but each was admirable in its kind, and with the a.s.sistance of an excellent bowl of hot punch and the friendly welcome of the host, left nothing to be desired.
Major Bob Mahon was a short, thickset little man, with round blue eyes, a turned-up nose, and a full under lip, which he had a habit of protruding with an air of no mean pretension; a short crop of curly black hair covered a head as round as a billiard-ball. These traits, with a certain peculiar smack of his mouth, by which he occasionally testified the approval of his own eloquence, were the most remarkable things about him. His great ambition was to be thought a military man; but somehow his pretensions in this respect smacked much more of the militia than the line. Indeed, he possessed a kind of adroit way of a.s.serting the superiority of the former to the latter, averring that they who fought _pro arts et focis_--the Major was fond of Latin--stood on far higher ground than the travelled mercenaries who only warred for pay. This peculiarity, and an absurd attachment to practical jokes, the result of which had frequently through life involved him in lawsuits, damages, compensations, and even duels, formed the great staple of his character--of all which the good priest informed me most fully on our way to the house.
"Captain Hinton, I believe," said the Major, as he held out his hand in welcome.
"Mr. Hinton," said I, bowing.
"Ay, yes; Father Tom, there, doesn"t know much about these matters. What regiment, pray?"
"The Grenadier Guards."
"Oh, a very good corps--mighty respectable corps; not that, between ourselves, I think overmuch of the regulars; between you and me, I never knew foreign travel do good to man or beast. What do they bring back with them, I"d like to know?--French cookery and Italian licentiousness.
No, no; give me the native troops! You were a boy at the time, but maybe you have heard how they behaved in the west, when Hoche landed. Egad! if it wasn"t for the militia the country was sacked. I commanded a company of the Roscommon at the time. I remember well we laid siege to a windmill, held by a desperate fellow, the miller--a resolute character, Mr. Hinton; he had two guns in the place with him."
"I wish to the Lord he had shot you with one of them, and we "d have been spared this long story!" said the priest.
"I opened a parallel----"
"Maybe you "d open the pie?" said the priest, as he drew his chair, and sat down to the table. "Perhaps you forget, Bob, we have had a sharp ride of it this evening?"
"Upon my conscience, so I did," replied the Major good-humouredly. "So let us have a bit of supper now, Mr. Hinton, and I"ll finish my story by-and-by."
"The Heavens forbid!" piously e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the priest, as he helped himself to a very considerable portion of the lobster.
"Is this a fast, Father Loftus?" said I slyly.
"No, my son, but we"ll make it one. That reminds me of what happened to me going up in the boat. It was a Friday, and the dinner, as you may suppose, was not over-good; but there was a beautiful cut of fried salmon just before me--about a pound and a half, maybe two pounds; this I slipped quietly on my plate, observing to the company, in this way, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is a fast day with me"--when a big fellow, with red whiskers, stooped across the table, cut my bit of fish in two halves, calling out as he carried off one, "Bad scran to ye! d"ye think n.o.body has a soul to be saved but yourself?""
"Ah, they"re a pious people, are the Irish!" said the Major solemnly, "and you"ll remark that when you see more of them. And now, Captain, how do you like us here?"
"Exceedingly," said I, with warmth. "I have had every reason to be greatly pleased with Ireland."
"That"s right! and I"m glad of it! though, to be sure, you have not seen us in our holiday garb. Ah, if you were here before the Union; if you saw Dublin as I remember it--and Tom there remembers it--"that was a pleasant place." It was not trusting to b.a.l.l.s and parties, to dinners and routs, but to all kinds of fun and devilment besides. All the members of Parliament used to be skylarking about the city, playing tricks on one another, and humbugging the Castle people. And, to be sure, the Castle was not the grave, stupid place it is now--they were convivial, jovial fellows----"
"Come, come, Major," interrupted I; "you are really unjust--the present court is not the heavy----"
"Sure, I know what it is well enough. Hasn"t the duke all the privy council and the bishops as often to dinner as the garrison and the bar?