They had both more money and ambition than MacDonough, had taken higher and wider views of life, and were strenuously working up from the slough of a plebeian origin to the high and dry soil of patrician security. To them, MacDonough was a perfect curse; he was what sailors call “a point of departure,” everlastingly reminding them of the spot from which they had sailed, and tauntingly hinting how, with all their canvas spread, they had scarcely gained blue water.
Of the O'Reillys a few words are necessary. Three generations were still living, each depicting most strikingly the gradations by which successful thrift and industry transmute the man of humble position into the influential grade of an estated gentleman: the grandfather was an apothecary of Loughrea; the son, an agent, a money-lender, and an M. P.; and the grandson, an Etonian and a fellow-commoner of Balliol, emerging into life with the prospect of a great estate, unencumbered with debt, considerable county influence, and, not least of all, the ricochet of that favor with which the Government regarded his pliant parent.
To all of these, MacDonough was insupportable, nor was there any visible escape from the insolent familiarity of his manner. Flattery had been tried in vain; all their blandishments could do nothing with one who well knew that his own acceptance into society depended on his powers of annoying; if not performing the part of torturer, he had no share in the piece; a quarrel with him was equally out of the question, for even supposing such an appeal safe,—which it was very far from being,—it would have reflected most disadvantageously on the O'Reillys to have been mixed up in altercation with a man so much beneath themselves as Alexander MacDonough of “The Tenement;” for such, in slang phrase, did he designate his country residence.
Let us now return from this long but indispensable digression to the subject which suggested it.
So many questions were put, explanations demanded, doubts suggested, and advices thrown out to Forester that it was not until after a considerable lapse of time he was enabled to commence his description of the unknown traveller, nor even then was he suffered to proceed without interruption, a demand being made by MacDonough that the absent individual was entitled to counsel, who should look after his interests, and, if necessary, cross-examine the evidence. All this was done in that style of comic seriousness to which Forester was so little accustomed that, what with the effect of wine, heat, and noise, combined with the well-assumed gravity of the party, he really forgot the absurdity of the whole affair, and became as eager and attentive as though the event were one of deep importance.
It was at last decided that MacDonough should act as counsel for the unknown, and the company should vote separately, each writing down on a slip of paper their impression of the individual designated, the result being tested by the majority in favor of any one person.
“Gentlemen of the jury,” said the host, in a voice of deep solemnity, “you will hear and well weigh the evidence before you touching this case, and decide with truth and conscience on its merits; so fill a bumper and let us begin. Make your statement, Captain Forester.”
The sudden silence succeeding to the tumultuous uproar, the directed gaze of so many eager faces, and the evident attention with which his statement was awaited, conspired to make Forester nervous and uneasy; nor was it without something of an effort that he began the recital of his adventure at Kilbeggan. Warming as he proceeded, he told of the accident by which his acquaintance with the unknown traveller was opened, and at length, having given so much of preliminary, entered upon the description of the individual.
Whatever Forester's own impression of the stranger, he soon felt how very difficult a task portrait-painting was, and how very unlike was his representation of the individual in question. The sure way to fail in any untried career is to suspect a failure; this he soon discovered, and cut short a most imperfect description by abruptly saying, “If you guess him now, gentlemen, I acknowledge the merit is far more in your perspicuity than in my powers of description.”
“Only a few questions before you leave the table, sir,” said MacDonough, addressing him with the mock sternness of a cross-examining barrister. “You said the unknown was gifted with a most courteous and prepossessing manner: pray what is the exact meaning of your phrase? for we uncouth inhabitants of a remote region have very imperfect notions on such subjects. My friend Dan Mahon here would call any man agreeable who could drink fourteen tumblers, and not forget the whiskey in mixing the fifteenth; Tom Callaghan, on the other hand, would test his breeding by what he knew of a wether or a 'short-horn;' Giles, my neighbor here, would ask, Did he lend you any money? and Mr. Hickman O'Reilly would whisper a hope that he came of an old family.”