"Will you fight me," said the man, "without using your middogue?"
"I saw you take a skean from between your teeth as I turned round,"
replied Shawn, "and I know now that you are a villain and a treacherous ruffian, who would take a cowardly advantage of me if you could."
The fellow made a plunge at Shawn, who was somewhat taken by surprise.
They met and grappled in the water, and the contest between them was, probably, one of the fiercest and most original that ever occurred between man and man. It was distinctly visible to the spectators on the sh.o.r.e, and the interest which it excited in them can scarcely be described. A terrible grapple ensued, but as neither of them wished to die by drowning, or, in fact, to die under such peculiar circ.u.mstances at all, there was a degree of caution in the contest which required great skill and power on both sides. Notwithstanding this caution, however, still, when we consider the unsubstantial element on which the battle between them raged--for rage it did--there were frightful alternatives of plunging and sinking between them.
Shawn"s opponent was the stronger of the two, but Shawn possessed in activity what the other possessed in strength. The waters of the lake were agitated by their struggles and foamed white about them, whilst, at the same time, the four bloodhounds tearing each other beside them added to the agitation. Shawn and his opponent clasped each other and frequently disappeared for a very brief s.p.a.ce, but the necessity to breathe and rise to the air forced them to relax the grasps and seek the surface of the water; so was it with the dogs. At length, Shawn, feeling that his middogue had got entangled in his dress, which the water had closely contracted about it, rendering it difficult, distracted as he was by the contest, to extricate it, turned round and swam several strokes from his enemy, who, however, pursued him with the ferocity of one of the bloodhounds beside them. This ruse was to enable Shawn to disengage his middogue, which he did. In the meantime this expedient of Shawn"s afforded his opponent time to bring out his skean,--two weapons which differed very little except in name. They once more approached one another, each with the armed hand up,--the left,--and a fiercer and more terrible contest was renewed. The instability of the element, however, on which they fought, prevented them from using their weapons with effect. At all events they played about each other, offering and warding off the blows, when Shawn exclaimed,--having grasped his opponent with his right arm,--
"I am tired of this; it must be now sink or swim between us. To die here is better than to die on the gallows."
As he spoke both sank, and for about half a minute became invisible. The spectators from the sh.o.r.e now gave them both over for lost; one of them only emerged with the fatal middogue in his hand, but his opponent appeared not, and for the best reason in the world: he was on his way to the bottom of the lake. Shawn"s exhaustion after such a struggle now rendered his situation hopeless. He was on the point of going down when he exclaimed:
"It is all in vain now; I am sinking, and me so near the only slip that is in the lake. Finn and Oonah, save me; I am drowning."
The words were scarcely out of his lips when he felt the two faithful, powerful, and n.o.ble animals, one at each side of him--seeing as they did, his sinking state--seizing him by his dress, and dragging him forward to the slip we have mentioned. With great difficulty he got upon land, but, having done so, he sat down; and when his dogs, in the gambols of their joy at his safety, caressed him, he wept like an infant--this proscribed outlaw and tory. He was now safe, however, and his pursuers returned in a spirit of sullen and bitter disappointment, finding that it was useless to continue the hunt any longer.
CHAPTER XIX. Plans and Negotiations.
We have already said that Woodward was a man of personal courage, and without fear of anything either living or dead, yet, notwithstanding all this, he felt a terror of _Shawn-na-Middogue_ which he could not I overcome. The escape--the extraordinary escape of that celebrated young tory--depressed and vexed him to the heart. He was conscious, however, of his own villany and of his conduct to Grace Davoren, whom Shawn had loved, and, as Shakespeare says, "conscience makes cowards of us all."
One thing, however, afforded him some consolation, which was that his disguise prevented him from from being known as the princ.i.p.al person engaged in the attempt to hunt down the outlaw. He knew that after the solemn promise he had given Miss Riddle, any knowledge on her part of his partic.i.p.ation in the pursuit of that generous but unfortunate young man would have so completely sunk him in her opinion, as an individual professing to be a man of honor, that she would have treated his proposals with contempt, and rejected him with disdain. At all events, his chief object now was to lose no time in prosecuting his suit with her. For this purpose he urged his mother to pay Lord c.o.c.kletown another visit, in order to make a formal proposal for the hand of his niece in his name, with a view of bringing the matter to an issue with as little delay as might be. His brother, who had relapsed, was in a very precarious condition, but still slightly on the recovery, a circ.u.mstance which filled him with alarm. He only went out at night occasionally, but still he went out, and, as before, did not return until about twelve, but much more frequently one, two, and sometimes three o"clock. n.o.body in the house could understand the mystery of these midnight excursions, and the servants of the family, who were well aware of them, began to look on him with a certain undefined terror as a man whose unaccountable movements were a.s.sociated with something that was evil and supernatural.
They felt occasionally that the power of his eye was dreadful; and as it began to be whispered about that it was by its evil influence he had brought Alice Goodwin to the very verge of the grave for the purpose of getting at the property, which was to revert to him in case she should die without issue, there was not one of them who, on meeting him, either in or about the house, would run the risk of looking him in the face. In fact, they experienced that kind of fear of him which a person might be supposed to feel in the case of a spirit; and this is not surprising when we consider the period in which they lived.
Be this as it may, his mother got up the old carriage once more and set out on her journey to c.o.c.kle Hall--her head filled with many an iniquitous design, and her heart with fraud and deceit. On reaching c.o.c.kle Hall she was ushered to the withdrawing-room, where she found his lordship in the self-same costume which we have already described. Miss Eiddle was in her own room, so that she had the coast clear--which was precisely what she wanted.
"Well, Mrs. Lindsay, I"m glad to see you. How do you do, madam? Is your son with you?" he added, shaking hands with her.
"No, my lord."
"O! an emba.s.sadress, then?"
"Something in that capacity, my lord."
"Then I must be on my sharps, for I am told you are a keen one. But tell me--do you sleep with one eye open, as I do?"
"Indeed, my lord," she replied, laughing, "I sleep as other people do, with both eyes shut."
"Well, then, what"s your proposal?--and, mark me, I"m wide awake."
"By all accounts, my lord, you have seldom been otherwise. How could you have played your cards so well and so succa.s.sfully if you had not?"
"Come, that"s not bad--just what I expected, and I like to deal with clever people. Did you put yourself on the whetstone before you came here? I"ll go bail you did."
"If I did not I would have little chance in dealing with your lordship,"
replied Mrs, Lindsay.
"Come, I like that, too;--well said, and nothing but the truth. In fact it will be diamond cut diamond between us--eh?"
"Precisely, my lord. You will find me as sharp as your lordship, for the life of you."
"Come, confound me, I like that best of all--a touch of my own candor;--we"re kindred spirits, Mrs. Lindsay."
"I think so, my lord. We should have been man and wife."
"Egad, if we had I shouldn"t have played second fiddle, as I"m told poor Lindsay does; however, no matter about that--even a good second is not so bad. But now about the negotiations--come, give a specimen of your talents. Let us come to the point."
"Well, then, I am here, my lord, to propose, in the name of my son Woodward, for the hand of Miss Riddle, your niece."
"I see; no regard for the property she is to have, eh?"
"Do you think me a fool, my lord? Do you imagine that any one of common sense would or should overlook such an element between parties who propose to marry? Whatever my son may do--who is deeply attached to Miss Riddle--I am sure I do not, nor will not, overlook it; you may rest a.s.sured of that, my lord."
Old c.o.c.kletown looked keenly at her, and their eyes met; but, after a long and steady gaze, the eyes of the old peer quailed, and he felt, when put to an encounter with hers, that to which was attributed such extraordinary influence. There sparkled in her steady black orb a venomous exultation, mingled with a spirit of strong and contemptuous derision, which made the eccentric old n.o.bleman feel rather uncomfortable. His eye fell, and, considering his age, it was decidedly a keen one. He fidgeted upon the chair--he coughed, hemmed, then looked about the room, and at length exclaimed, rather in a soliloquy,--
"Second fiddle! egad, I"m afraid had we been man and wife I should never have got beyond it. Poor Lindsay! It"s confoundedly odd, though."
"Well, Mrs. Lindsay--ahem--pray proceed, madam; let us come to the property. How does your son stand in that respect?"
"He will have twelve hundred a year, my lord."
"I told you before, Mrs. Lindsay, that I--don"t like the future tense--the present for me. What has he?"
"It can scarcely be called the future tense, my lord, which you seem to abhor so much. Nothing stands between him and it but a dying girl."
"How is that, madam?"
"Why, my lord, his Uncle Hamilton, my brother, had a daughter, an only child, who died of decline, as her mother before her did. This foolish child was inveigled into an unaccountable affection for the daughter of Mr. Goodwin--a deep, designing, artful girl--who contrived to gain a complete ascendency over both father and daughter. For months before my niece"s death this cunning girl, prompted by her designing family, remained at her sick bed, tended her, nursed her, and would scarcely allow a single individual to approach her except herself. In short, she gained such an undue and iniquitous influence over both parent and child, that her diabolical object was accomplished."
"Diabolical! Well, I can see nothing diabolical in it, for so far.
Affection and sympathy on the one hand, and grat.i.tude on the other--that seems much more like the thing. But proceed, madam."
"Why, my poor brother, who became silly and enfeebled in intellect by the loss of his child, was prevailed on by Miss Goodwin and her family to adopt her as his daughter, and by a series of the most artful and selfish manoeuvres they succeeded in getting the poor imbecile and besotted old man to make a will in her favor; and the consequence was that he left her twelve hundred a year, both to her and her issue, should she marry and have any; but in case she should have no issue, then, after her death, it was to revert to my son Woodward for whom it was originally intended by my brother. It was a most unprincipled and shameful transaction on the part of these Goodwins. Providence, however, would seem to have punished them for their iniquity, for Miss Goodwin is dying--at least, beyond all hope. The property, of course, will soon be in my son"s possession, where it ought to have been ever since his uncle"s death. Am I not right, then, in calculating on that property as his?"
"Why, the circ.u.mstances you speak of are recent; I remember them well enough. There was a lawsuit about the will?"
"There was, my lord."
"And the instrument was proved strictly legal and valid?"
"The suit was certainly determined against us."
"I"ll tell you what, Mrs. Lindsay; I am certain that I myself would have acted precisely as your brother did. I know the Goodwins, too, and I know, besides, that they are incapable of reverting to either fraud or undue influence of any kind. All that you have told me, then, is, with great respect to you, nothing but mere rigmarole. I am sorry, however, to hear that the daughter, poor girl, is dying. I hope in G.o.d she will recover."
"There is no earthly probability--nay, possibility of it--which is a stronger word--I know, my lord, she will die, and that very soon."