“No, Darby,” said I, with an effort at firmness; “I'll not look round any more.” And bending my head against the storm, I stepped out boldly beside my companion. We walked on without speaking, and soon left the neglected avenue and ruined gate lodge behind us, as we reached the highroad that led to Athlone.
Darby, who only waited to let my first burst of sorrow find its natural vent, no sooner perceived from my step and the renewed color of my cheek that I had rallied my courage once more, than he opened all his stores of agreeability, which, to my inexperience in such matters, were by no means inconsiderable. Abandoning at once all high-flown phraseology,—which Mr. M'Keown, I afterwards remarked, only retained as a kind of gala suit for great occasions,—he spoke freely and naturally. Lightening the way with many a story,—now grave, now gay,—he seemed to care little for the inclemency of the weather, and looked pleasantly forward to a happy evening as an ample reward for the present hardship.
“And the captain, Master Tom; you say he's an agreeable man?” said Darby, alluding to my late companion on the coach, whose merits I was never tired of recapitulating.
“Oh, delightful! He has travelled everywhere, and seems to know everybody and everything. He 's very rich, too; I forget how many houses he has in England, and elephants without number in India.”
“Faix, you were in luck to fall in with him!” observed Darby.
“Yes, that I was I I 'm sure he 'll do something for me; and for you too, Darby, when he knows you have been so kind to me.”
“Me! What did I do, darling? and what could I do, a poor piper like me? Wouldn't it be honor enough for me if a gentleman's son would travel the road with me? Darby M'Keown's a proud man this day to have you beside him.”
A ruined cabin in the road, whose blackened walls and charred timbers denoted its fate, here attracted my companion's attention. He stopped for a second or two to look on it; and then, kneeling down, he muttered a short prayer for the eternal rest of some one departed, and taking up a stone, he threw it on a heap of similar ones which lay near the doorside.
“What happened there, Darby?” said I, as he resumed his way.
“They wor out in the thrubles!” was his only reply, as he cast a glance behind, to perceive if any one had remarked him.