“It is all true, my Lady, and so is this too;” and he took from his hat a newspaper and presented it to her.
“The Ballydermot property! The whole estate lost at cards! This is a calumny, sir,—the libellous impertinence of a newspaper paragraphist. I'll not believe it.”
“'T 's true, notwithstanding, my Lady. Harvey Dawson was there himself, and saw it all; and as for the other, the deeds and mortgages are at this moment in the hands of my son's solicitor.”
“And this may be foreclosed—”
“On the 24th, at noon, my Lady,” continued Hickman, as he folded the memorandum and replaced it in his pocket-book.
“Well, sir,” said she, as, with a great effort to master her emotion, she addressed him in a steady and even commanding voice, “the next thing is to learn what are your intentions respecting this debt? You have not purchased all these various liabilities of my husband's without some definite object. Speak it out—what is it? Has Mr. Hickman O'Reilly's ambition increased so rapidly that he desires to date his letters from Gwynne Abbey?”
“The Saints forbid it, my Lady,” said the old man, with a pious horror. “I 'd never come here this day on such an errand as that. If it was not to propose what was agreeable, you 'd not see me here—”
“Well, sir, what is the proposition? Let me hear it at once, for my patience never bears much dallying with.”
“I am coming to it, my Lady,” muttered Hickman, who already felt really ashamed at the deep emotion his news evoked. “There are two ways of doing it—” A gesture of impatience from Lady Eleanor stopped him, but, after a brief pause, he resumed: “Bear with me, my Lady. Old age and infirmity are always prolix; but I'll do my best.”
It would be as unfair a trial of the reader's endurance as it proved to Lady Eleanor's, were we to relate the slow steps by which Mr. Hickman announced his plan, the substance of which, divested of all his own circumlocution and occasional interruptions, was simply this: a promise had been made by Lord Castlereagh to Hickman O'Reilly that if, through his influence, exercised by means of moneyed arrangements or otherwise, the Knight of Gwynne would vote with the Government on the “Union,” he should be elevated to the Peerage, an object which, however inconsiderable in the old man's esteem, both his son and grandson had set their hearts upon. For this service they, in requital, would extend the loan to another period of seven years, stipulating only for some trifling advantages regarding the right of cutting timber, some coast fisheries, and other matters to be mentioned afterwards,—points which, although evidently of minor importance, were recapitulated by the old man with a circumstantial minuteness.