It was the jolly giant, who on his big bay hunter clattered into the courtyard; come, probably, in search of news on his own account, in spite of what he had said to Terence a few hours before. He had watered his horse at the shebeen, had taken a plunge into the sea to dissipate the fumes of last night's revel, had given red-haired Biddy such a smacking kiss as would have roused the ire of Terence's devoted henchman if he had been within fifty yards, and was now come to pay his respects to the inmates of the Abbey.
He praised the dogs in a flurried sort of way, stood on one great foot and then the other, rapping the dust from his full-skirted riding-coat with his hunting-crop, whilst his eyes devoured the fine lines of Miss Wolfe's figure, which indeed compelled admiration through its tight-fitting, high-waisted frock. During the last year he had made considerable advance in the good graces of the chatelaine, and of her first-born. She, as chatelaines ought to be, was delighted to have a host of philanderers hanging about the Abbey, swilling its liquor, devouring its beef, while my lord deigned to make the squireen useful in a multitude of ways. Belonging as he did to the half-mounted class, such homage as he could pay was due to a great lord, who was kind enough to smile upon him. That he might be hand and glove with the United Irishmen was neither here nor there; was he not also an ally of Major Sirr's as well as a protégé of the chancellor's--tolerated too by Curran, Lord Clare's arch-enemy? He was all things to all men, a typical 'tame cat:' it remained to be seen which side he would take when the crisis should come--at least so people remarked who did not know, as we do, that he had taken the oath and was given to mystical questions anent the placing of a bough in the crown of England. A man who can turn his hand to anything, rides well to hounds, sings jovial ditties, makes genteel play with a rapier, can sigh like a furnace, and look languishingly at a pretty girl, is sure of being a general favourite. Doreen liked Mr. Cassidy as much as Shane did, an unusual circumstance, for his likes and dislikes were generally in direct opposition to hers. She was wont to jest at his many blunders, lecture him for his stupidity, allow him greater liberties than were usual between an heiress and a 'half-mounted.' For there was no harm in him. He would not be likely to try to run off with this prize, for Shane's sword--champion-spit of the Cherokees and Blasters--was a universally dreaded weapon, and Mr. Cassidy was too fond of the good things of this life to think of suddenly quitting it with daylight through his vitals. Sometimes he made love to her. Then she held out a warning finger while smiles wreathed her ruddy lips, as she would have done to any inmate of the kennels that should dare leap with dirty paws upon her flowered muslin.
This morning his behaviour was not what it should have been. Sure that dip in Dublin Bay had not washed away the impudence begot of claret. She looked so ravishingly fresh and neat in the chip hat which, with a plain white ribbon knotted beneath the chin, gave a yet fuller glow to her rich complexion, the close-clinging robe spangled here and there with a bunch of poppies, that there was little wonder if prudence was for once outrun by passion. She was not Miss Hoyden any more. Her clothes were of the most fashionable cut; nimblest-fingered of Dublin tailoresses made her frock; long mitts of daintiest Carrick lace masked only to accentuate the golden ripeness of her finely modelled arms; a pair of stout pointed brogues, silver buckled, drew down the eye to the clean ankle and high instep, which told of healthful exercise by a series of suave contours and voluptuous curves.
Now the mind of Cassidy was gross in its essence; jaded too by appetites in riot. What would be more likely to stimulate a coarse illiterate squireen than the aspect of such a living paradox as this? His political intentions were admirable, doubtless; possibly when the time came he, like a few others, would rise to the occasion, cast aside low vices, and, passing like gold through the fire, achieve deeds which would endear him to his countrymen. That was possibly in the future. The present only whispered, as his eyes wandered over the figure of the girl before him, that such a morsel could not be too dearly bought. With unwonted courage, he blurted out the original remark:
'Mistress Doreen, you're monsthrous beautiful!'
'Am I?' she replied, raising her eyebrows. 'Alas! it's of little consequence.'
'Is it now?' returned Cassidy, endeavouring in his murky brain to plod out a reason for the statement. 'Oh!' he said at length, 'becase you're booked, and you don't care whether my lord is pleased or not.'
'My lord?' inquired the girl, her brows arching yet higher.
'Aren't you to be the future lady of Ennishowen? I can put two and two together.'
So this hateful match was being freely canvassed. Even muddlepated Cassidy had penetrated my lady's plans. He was peering straight into her eyes, trying to find what he could at the bottom of their brown depths. The heat of angry humiliation sent the blood bubbling to her face. Cassidy observed it, and leered pleasantly.