The Knight Of Gwynne, Vol. 1

“This is very good news, – the best I ‘ve heard for many a day, Heffernan; and for its accuracy – ”

“Lord Castlereagh is the guarantee,” added Heffernan, hastily; “I had it from his own lips.”

“I ‘ll wait on him this morning. I can at least express my gratitude for his Royal Highness’s kindness to my boy.”

“You ‘ll not have far to go,” said Heffernan, smiling.

“How so? – what do you mean?”

“Lord Castlereagh is at the door this moment in that carriage;” and Hefifernan pointed to the chariot which, with its blinds closely drawn, stood before the street door.

The Knight moved hastily towards the door, and then, turning suddenly, burst into a hearty laugh, – a laugh so racy and full of enjoyment that Heffernan himself joined in it, without knowing wherefore.

“You are a clever fellow, Hefifernan!” said the Knight, as he lay back in a deep-cushioned chair, and wiped his eyes, now streaming with tears of laughter, – “a devilish clever fellow! The whole affair reminds me of poor Jack Morris.”

“Faith! I don’t see your meaning,” said Hefifernan, half fearful that all was not right.

“You knew Jack, – we all knew him. Well, poor Morris was going home one night, – from the theatre, I believe it was, – but, just as he reached Ely Place, he saw, by the light of a lamp, a gentlemanlike fellow trying to make out an address on a letter, and endeavoring, as well as he could, to spell out the words by the uncertain light. ‘Devilish provoking!’ said the stranger, half aloud; ‘I wrote it myself, and yet cannot read a word of it.’ ‘Can I be of any service?’ said Jack. Poor fellow! he was always ready for anything kind or good-natured. ‘Thank you,’ said the other; ‘but I ‘m a stranger in Dublin, – only arrived this evening from Liverpool, – and cannot remember the name or the street of my hotel, although I noted both down on this letter.’ ‘Show it to me,’ said Jack, taking the document. But although he held it every way, and tried all manner of guesses, he never could hit on the name the stranger wanted. ‘Never mind,’ said Jack; ‘don’t bother yourself about it. Come home with, me and have an oyster, – I ‘ll give you a bed; ‘t will be time enough after breakfast to-morrow to hunt out the hotel.’ To make short of it, the stranger complied; after all the natural expressions of gratitude and shame, home they went, supped, finished two bottles of claret, and chatted away till past two o’clock. ‘You ‘d like to get to bed, I see,’ said Jack, as the stranger seemed growing somewhat drowsy, and so he rang the bell and ordered the servant to show the gentleman to his room. ‘And, Martin,’ said he, ‘take care that everything is comfortable, and be sure you have a nightcap.’ ‘Oh! I ‘ve a nightcap myself,’ said the stranger, pulling one, neatly folded, out of his coat pocket. ‘Have you, by G – d!’ said Jack. ‘If you have, then, you ‘ll not sleep here. A man that’s so ready for a contingency has generally some hand in contriving it.’ And so he put him out of doors, and never saw more of him. Eh, Heffernan, was Jack right?” And again the old man broke into a hearty laugh, in which Heffernan, notwithstanding his discomfiture, could not refrain from participating.