“How very shocking! They are connections of my own!” said the Viceroy; as though what he said made the misery attain its climax.
“I am aware, my Lord, that Lady Dorothea is related to your Excellency, and I am surprised you have not heard the stories I allude to.”
“But perhaps I am incorrect,” said the Marquis. “It may be that I have heard them; so many things pass through one's ears every day. But here is Colonel Mas-singbred; he 's sure to know it. Massingbred, we want some news of the Martins—the Martins of—what is it called?”
“Cro' Martin, my Lord,” said Nelligan, reddening.
“I hold the very latest news of that county in my hand, my Lord,” replied the Secretary. “It is an express from my son, who writes from Oughterard.”
Nelligan stood, scarcely breathing, with impatience to hear the tidings.
Colonel Massingbred ran his eyes over the first page of the letter, murmuring to himself the words; then turning over, he said: “Yes, here it is,—'While I write this, the whole town is in a state of intense excitement; the magistrates have sent in for an increased force of police, and even soldiery, to repress some very serious disturbances on the Martin property. It would appear that Merl—the man who assumes to claim the property, as having purchased the reversion from young Martin—was set upon by a large mob, and pursued, himself and his friends, for several miles across the country. They escaped with their lives, but have arrived here in a lamentable plight. There is really no understanding these people. It was but the other day, and there was no surer road to their favor than to abuse and vilify these same Martins, and now they are quite ready to murder any one who aspires to take their place. If one was to credit the stories afloat, they have already wreaked a fatal vengeance on some fellows employed by Merl to serve notices on the tenantry; but I believe that the outrages have really gone no further than such maltreatment as Irishmen like to give, and are accustomed to take.'”
Here his Excellency laughed heartily, and Joe Nelligan looked grave.
Massingbred read on: “'Without being myself a witness to it, I never could have credited the almost feudal attachment of these people to an “Old House.” The Radical party in the borough are, for the moment, proscribed, and dare not show themselves in the streets; and even Magennis, who so lately figured as an enemy to the Martins, passed through the town this morning with his wife, with a great banner flying over his jaunting-car, inscribed “The Martins for Ever!” This burst of sentiment on his part, I ought to mention, was owing to a most devoted piece of heroism performed by Miss Martin, who sought out the lost one and brought her safely back, through a night of such storm and hurricane as few ever remember. Such an act, amidst such a people, is sure of its reward. The peasantry would, to a man, lay down their lives for her; and coming critically, as the incident did, just when a new proprietor was about to enforce his claim, you can fancy the added bitterness it imparted to their spirit of resistance. I sincerely trust that the magistrates will not accede to the demand for an increased force. A terrible collision is sure to be the result, and I know enough of these people to be aware of what can be done by a little diplomacy, particularly when the right negotiator is employed. I mean, therefore, to go over and speak to Mr. Nelligan, who is the only man of brains amongst the magistrates here.'”
“A relative, I presume,” said his Excellency.