You must not come at all, and I won't even see you if you do. You men are always so weak, and want such a lot of petting. Mahomet tried to kiss me last night when I was singing to him before going to dress. I have to practise with him. I gave him such a blow in the face that I don't think he'll repeat the experiment, and I had my eyes about me. You needn't be at all afraid of me but what I am quick enough. He was startled at the moment, and I merely laughed. I'm not going to give up £100 a month because he makes a beast of himself; and I'm not going to call in father as long as I can help it; nor do I mean to call in your royal highness at all. I tell everybody that I'm going to marry your royal highness, king Jones; there isn't a bit of a secret about it. I talk of my Mr. Jones just as if we were married, because it all comes easier to me in that way. You will see that I absolutely believe in you and I expect that you shall absolutely believe in me. Send you a kiss! Of course I do; I am not at all coy of my favours. You ask Mahomet also as to what he thinks of the strength of my right arm. I examined his face so minutely when I had to fall into his arms on the stage, and there I saw the round mark of my fist, and the swelling all round it. And I thought to myself as I was singing my devotion that he should have it next time in his eye. But, Frank, mark my words: I won't have you here till you can come to marry me.
Frank did not go over, even on this occasion, as he was detained, not only by his mistress's danger, but by his father's troubles. Florian had almost, but had not quite, told the entire truth. He had said that he had seen the sluices broken, but had not quite owned who had broken them. He had declared that Pat Carroll had done "mischief," but had not quite said of what nature was the mischief which Carroll had done. It was now March, and the hunting troubles were still going on. The whole gentry in County Galway had determined to take Black Tom Daly's part, and to carry him on through the contest. But the effect of taking Black Tom Daly's part was to take the part against which the Land Leaguers were determined to enrol themselves. For of all men in the county, Black Tom was the most unpopular. And of all men he was the most determined; with him it was literally a question between God and Mammon. A man could not serve both. In the simplicity of his heart, he thought that the Landleaguers were children of Satan, and that to have any dealings with them, or the passage of any kindness, was in itself Satanic. He said very little, but he spent whole hours in thinking of the evil that they were doing. And among the evils was the unparalleled insolence which they displayed in entering coverts in County Galway. Now Frank Jones, who had not hitherto been very intimate with Tom, had taken up his part, and was fighting for him at this moment. Nevertheless the provocation to him to go to London was very great, and he had only put it off till the last coverts should be drawn on Saturday the 2nd of April. The hunt had determined to stop their proceedings earlier than usual; but still there was to be one day in April, for the sake of honour and glory.
But in the latter days of March there came a third letter from Rachel O'Mahony. Like the other letter it was cheerful, and high-spirited; but still it seemed to speak of impending dangers, which Frank, though he could not understand them, thought that he could perceive.
My present engagement is to go on till the end of July, with an understanding that I am to have twenty guineas a night, for any evening that I may be required to sing in August. This your highness will perceive is a very considerable increase, and at three nights a week might afford an income on which your highness would perhaps condescend to come and eat a potato, in the honour of "ould" Ireland, till better times should come. That would be the happy potato which would be the first bought for such a purpose! But you must see that I cannot expect a continuance of my present engagement as the head of your royal highness' seraglio. I should have to look for another Chancellor of the Exchequer, and should probably find him. Mr. Mahomet M. Moss would hardly endure me as being part of the properties belonging to your royal highness.
And now I must tell you my own little news. Beelzebub has taken a worse devil to himself, so that I am likely to be trodden down into the very middle of the pit. I choose to tell you because I won't have you think that I have ever kept anything secret from you. If I describe the roars of Mrs. Beelzebub to you, and her red claws, and her forky tongue, and her fiery tail, it is not because I like her as a subject of poetry, but because this special subject comes uppermost; and you shall never say to me, why didn't you tell me when you were introduced to Beelzebub's wife? and assert, as men are apt to do, that you would not have allowed me to make her acquaintance. Mrs. Beelzebub appears on the stage as belonging to Mahomet but how they have mixed it all up together among themselves, I do not quite know. I do not think that they're in love with one another, because she is not jealous of me. She is Madame Socani in the plot, and a genuine American from New York; but she can sing; she has a delicious soprano voice, soft and powerful; but she has also a temper and temperament such as no woman, nor yet no devil, ought to possess. Of Monsieur Socani, or Signor Socani, or Herr Socani, I never yet heard. But such men do not always make themselves troublesome. I have to sing with her, and a woman you may say would not be troublesome, but she and Mahomet between them consider themselves competent to get me under their thumb. I don't intend to be under their thumb. I intend to be under nobody's thumb but yours; and the sooner the better. Now you know all about it; but as you shall value the first squeeze which you shall get when you do come, don't come till your coming has been properly settled.
Then there was a fourth letter in which she described her troubles, still humorously, and with some attempt at absolute comedy. But she certainly wrote with a purpose of making him understand that she was subjected to very considerable annoyance. She was still determined not to call upon him for assistance; and she warned him that any assistance whatever would be out of his power. A lover on the scene, who could not declare his purpose of speedy marriage, would be worse than useless. All that she saw plainly,—or at any rate declared that she saw plainly, though she was altogether unable to explain it to Frank Jones.
Mrs. Beelzebub is certainly the queen of the devils. I remember when you read "Paradise Lost" to us at Morony Castle, which I thought very dull. Milton arranged the ranks in Pandemonium differently; but there has been a revolution since that, and Mrs. Beelzebub has everything just as she pleases. I am beginning to pity Mahomet, and pity, they say, is akin to love. She urges him,—well, just to make love to me. What reason there is between them I don't know, but I am sure she wants him to get me altogether into his hands. I'm not sure but what she is Mahomet's own wife. This is a horrid kettle of fish, as you will see. But I think I'll turn out to be head cook yet. If God does not walk atop of the devils what's the use of running straight? But I am sure he will, and the more so because there is in truth no temptation.
She told me the other day to my face, that I was a fool. "I know I am," said I demurely, "but why?" Then she came out with her demand. It was very simple, and did not in truth amount to much. I was to become just—mistress to Mr. Moss.
Frank Jones, when he read this, crushed the paper up in his hand and went upstairs to his bedroom, determined to pack up immediately. But before he had progressed far, he got out the letter and read the remainder.
"You," I said, "are an intimate acquaintance of Mr. Moss."
"I am his particular friend," she said, with that peculiar New York aping of a foreign accent, which is the language that was, I am sure, generally used by the devils.
"Ask him, with my best compliments," I said, "whether he remembers the blow I hit him in the face. Tell him I can hit much harder than that; tell him that he will never find me unprepared, for a moment."
Now I have got another little bit of news for you. Somebody has found out in New York that I am making money. It is true, in a limited way. £100 a month is something, and so they've asked papa to subscribe as largely as he can to a grand Home-Rule, anti-Protestant, hate-the-English, stars-and-stripes society. It is the most loyal and beneficent thing out, and dear papa thinks I can do nothing better with my wealth than bestow it upon these birds of freedom. I have no doubt they are all right, because I am an American-Irish, and have not the pleasure of knowing Black Tom Daly. I have given them £200, and am, therefore, at this moment, nearly impecunious. On this account I do not choose to give up my engagement—£100 a month, with an additional possibility of twenty guineas a night when August shall be here. You will tell me that after the mild suggestion made by Mrs. Beelzebub, I ought to walk out of the house, and go back to County Galway immediately. I don't think so. I am learning every day how best to stand fast on my own feet. I am earning my money honestly, and men and women here in London are saying that in truth I can sing. A very nice old gentleman called on me the other day from Covent Garden, and, making me two low bows, asked whether I was my own mistress some time in October next. I thought at the moment that I was at any rate free from the further engagement proposed by Mrs. Beelzebub, and told him that I was free. Then he made me two lower bows, touched the tip of my fingers, and said that he would be proud to wait upon me in a few days with a definite proposal. This old gentleman may mean twenty guineas a night for the whole of next winter, or something like £250 a month. Think of that, Mr. Jones. But how am I to go on in my present impecunious position if I quarrel altogether with my bread and butter? So now you know all about it.
Remember that I have told my father nothing as to Mrs. Beelzebub's proposition. It is better not; he would disown it, and would declare that I had invented it from vanity. I do think that a woman in this country can look after herself if she be minded so to do. I know that I am stronger than Mr. Moss and Mrs. Beelzebub together. I do believe that he will pay me his money, as he has always done, and I want to earn my money. I have some little precautions—just for a rainy day. I have told you everything—everything, because you are to be my husband. But you can do me no good by coming here, but may cause me a peck of troubles. Now, good-bye, and God bless you. A thousand kisses.
Ever your own,
R.
Tell everybody that I'm to be Mrs. Jones some day.
Frank finished packing up, and then told his father that he was going off to Athenry at once, there to meet the night mail train up to Dublin.
"Why are you going at once, in this sudden manner?" asked his father.