“When do you mean to set out?” asked Hankes, in a tone far less eager than his former question.
“There's a full moon to-morrow night, so that, leaving this about midnight, we might reach the bay by six or seven o'clock, and then, if we should be fortunate with the wind, arrive at Kilmaganagh by about four o'clock. Taking there three or four hours to see the place, we could start again about eight, or even nine—”
“Good heavens! that gives nothing for repose,—no time to recruit.”
“You forget there are fully five hours on board the boat. I 'll not be the least offended if you sleep the entire time. If there 's not wind enough to take in a reef, I 'll give the tiller to old Mark Spillane, and take a sleep myself.”
“It is really like a Tartar journey,” said the terrified Hankes.
“I have told you the worst of it, I must own,” said she, laughing, “for I feel I have no right to obtain your escort on false pretences.”
“And you would go alone over this long distance,—land and sea?”
“Land and sea are very grand words, Mr. Hankes, for some five-and-twenty miles of heather and a few hours in an open boat; but such as they are, I would go them alone.”
Mr. Hankes would like to have said something complimentary, something flattering, but it did not exactly occur to him how he was to do it. To have exalted her heroism would be like a confession of his own poltroonery; to have seen any surprising evidence of boldness in her daring might possibly reflect upon her delicacy. He felt—none could have felt more thoroughly—that she was very courageous and very full of energy; but, somehow, these were humble aid to propagate that notion,—I had almost said that fallacy. “Only hear me out,” said she, as he tried to interrupt “I began my duties in the most sanguine of all moods. Heaven knows not what dreams I had of a land of abundance and content. Well, I have seen the abundance,—the wealth has really poured in; every one is richer, better fed, clothed, housed, and cared for, and almost in an equal ratio are they grown more covetous, grasping, envious, and malevolent—You won't let me finish,” cried she, as he showed an increasing impatience. “Well, perhaps, as we stroll along the cliffs to-morrow, you will be more disposed to listen; that is, if I have not already terrified you from accepting the companionship.”
“Oh, no! by no means; but how are we to go,—do we drive?”