_Mabel._ Money is it? Then there"s no money you could send her--not the full of Lough Erne itself, in golden guineas, could make her amends for the loss of yourself, Owen, and you know that.
_Mr. H._ And I am not the man that would entice you to list, or gang with me, in contradiction to your duty at home, or your interest abroad: so (_turning to_ MABEL) do not look on me as the tempter to evil, nor with distrust, as you do, kind sister as you are, and like my own Kate; but hear me coolly, and without prejudice, for it is his gude I wish.
_Mabel._ I am listening then, and I ask your pardon if I looked a doubt.
_Mr. H._ The gude mother must wish, above all things here below, the weal and _advancement_ and the honour of her bairns; and she would not let the son be tied to her ap.r.o.n-strings, for any use or profit to herself, but ever wish him to do the best in life for his sel". Is not this truth, gude friends--plain truth?
_Mabel._ It is then--I own that: truth and sense too.
_Owen._ Now see there, Mabel.
_Mr. H._ And better for him to do something abroad than digging at home; and in the army he might get on,--and here"s the bugle-boy"s pay.
_Mabel._ Is it a bugle-boy you are thinking of making him?
_Mr. H._ That"s the only thing I could make him. I wish I could offer better.
_Mabel._ Then, I thank you, sir, and I wouldn"t doubt ye--and it would be very well for a common boy that could only dig; but my brother"s no common boy, sir.
_Owen._ Oh, Mabel!
_Mabel._ Hush, Owen! for it"s the truth I"m telling, and if to your face I can"t help it. You may hide the face, but I won"t hide the truth.
_Mr. H._ Then speak on, my warm-hearted la.s.sy, speak on.
_Mabel._ Then, sir, he got an edication while ever my poor father lived, and no better scholar, they said, for the teaching he got:--but all was given over when the father died, and the troubles came, and Owen, as he ought, give himself up intirely for my mother, to help her, a widow. But it"s not digging and slaving he is to be always:--it"s with the head, as my father used to say, he"ll make more than the hands; and we hope to get a clerk"s place for him sometime, or there will be a schoolmaster wanting in this town, and that will be what he would be fit for; and not--but it"s not civil, before you, a soldier, sir, to say the rest.
_Mr. H._ Fear not, you will not give offence.
_Mabel._ And not to be spending his breath blowing through a horn all his days, for the sake of wearing a fine red coat. I beg your pardon again, sir, if I say too much--but it"s to save my brother and my mother.
_Mr. H._ I like you the better for all you"ve said for both.
_Owen._ And I"m off entirely:--I"ll not list, I thank you, sir.
[_MABEL clasps her hands joyfully, then embraces her brother._
_Mr. H._ And I"ll not ask you to list--and I would not have asked it at all, but that a friend of yours told me it would be the greatest service I could do you, and that it was the thing of all others you wished.
_Owen._ That friend was Christy Gallagher: but he was mistaken--that"s all.
_Mabel._ I hope that"s all. But I"ve no dependance on him for a friend, nor has my mother.
_Owen._ Why, he was saying to me, and I could not say against it, that he had a right to propose for the inn if he could, though Gilbert and we wanted to get it.
_Mabel._ Then I wonder why Christy should be preferred rather than my mother.
_Owen._ Then that"s a wonder--and I can"t understand how that was.
_Mr. H._ I have one more thing to say, or to do, which I should like better, if you"ll give me leave. If there"s a difficulty aboot the rent of this new inn that you are talking of, I have a little spare money, and you"re welcome to it:--I consider it as a debt of my brother"s, which I am bound to pay; so no obligation in life--tell me how much will do.
[_Takes out his purse._
_Owen_ and _Mabel._ You are very kind--you are very good.
_Mr. H._ No, I am not--I am only just. Say only how much will do.
_Owen._ Alas! money won"t do now, sir. It"s all settled, and Christy says he has a promise of it in writing from the lady.
_Mr. H._ May be this Christy might sell his interest, and we will see--I will not say till I find I can do. Fare ye weel till we meet, as I hope we shall, at the dance that"s to be at the castle. The band is to be there, and I with them, and I shall hope for this la.s.sy"s hand in the dance.
_Mabel._ (_aside_) And Gilbert that never asked me! (_Aloud_) I thank you kindly, sir, I sha"n"t go to the dance at-all-at-all, I believe--my mother had better take her rest, and I must stay with her--a good night to you kindly.
[_Exit MABEL into her mother"s room._
_Mr. H._ This sister of yours would leave me no heart to carry back to Scotland, I fear, but that I"m a married man already, and have my own luve--a Kate of my own, that"s as fair as she, and as gude, and that"s saying much.
_Owen._ (_aside_) Much more than Florinda Gallagher will like to hear.
_Mr. H._ I shall thank you if you will teach me, for my Kate, the words of that song your sister was singing when we came in.
_Owen._ I believe it"s to flatter me you say this, for that song is my writing.
_Mr. H._ Yours?
_Owen._ Mine, such as it is.
_Mr. H._ Sic a ane as you are then, I"m glad you are not to be a bugle-boy: your sister is right.
_Owen._ I"ll teach you the words as we go along.
_Mr. H._ Do so;--but mind now this song-writing do not lead you to idleness. We must see to turn your edication to good account. (_Aside_) Oh, I will never rest till I pay my brother"s debt, some way or other, to this gude family.
[_Exeunt._
ACT III.
SCENE I.
_CHRISTY alone._