the purcell papers-2-第12章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！





It　was　much　to　be　feared　that　Heathcote

having　heard　some　vague　report　of

O'Mara's　engagement　with　Lady　Emily；

perhaps　exaggerated；　by　the　repetition；

into　a　speedily　approaching　marriage；　had

become　alarmed　for　his　daughter's　interest；

and　had　taken　this　decisive　step　in　order

to　prevent；　by　a　disclosure　of　the　circumstances

of　his　clandestine　union　with　Ellen；

the　possibility　of　his　completing　a　guilty

alliance　with　Captain　N's　sister。　If

he　entertained　the　suspicions　which　they

attributed　to　him；　he　had　certainly　taken

the　most　effectual　means　to　prevent　their

being　realised。　Whatever　his　object　might

be；　his　presence　in　Dublin；　in　company

with　Captain　N；　boded　nothing　good

to　O'Mara。



They　entered　's　tavern；　in　Dame

Street；　together；　and　there；　over　a　hasty

and　by　no　means　a　comfortable　meal；　they

talked　over　their　plans　and　conjectures。

Evening　closed　in；　and　found　them　still

closeted　together；　with　nothing　to　interrupt；

and　a　large　tankard　of　claret　to　sustain

their　desultory　conversation。



Nothing　had　been　determined　upon；

except　that　Dwyer　and　O'Mara　should

proceed　under　cover　of　the　darkness　to

search　the　town　for　Heathcote；　and　by

minute　inquiries　at　the　most　frequented

houses　of　entertainment；　to　ascertain　his

place　of　residence；　in　order　to　procuring　a

full　and　explanatory　interview　with　him。

They　had　each　filled　their　last　glass；　and

were　sipping　it　slowly；　seated　with　their

feet　stretched　towards　a　bright　cheerful

fire；　the　small　table　which　sustained　the

flagon　of　which　we　have　spoken；　together

with　two　pair　of　wax　candles；　placed

between　them；　so　as　to　afford　a　convenient

resting…place　for　the　long　glasses　out　of

which　they　drank。



'One　good　result；　at　all　events；　will　be

effected　by　Heathcote's　visit；'　said　O'Mara。

'Before　twenty…four　hours　I　shall　do　that

which　I　should　have　done　long　ago。　I

shall；　without　reserve；　state　everything。

I　can　no　longer　endure　this　suspensethis

dishonourable　secrecythis　apparent

dissimulation。　Every　moment　I　have　passed

since　my　departure　from　the　country　has

been　one　of　embarrassment；　of　pain；　of

humiliation。　To…morrow　I　will　brave

the　storm；　whether　successfully　or　not　is

doubtful；　but　I　had　rather　walk　the　high

roads　a　beggar；　than　submit　a　day　longer

to　be　made　the　degraded　sport　of　every

accidentthe　miserable　dependent　upon　a

successful　system　of　deception。　Though

PASSIVE　deception；　it　is　still　unmanly；

unworthy；　unjustifiable　deception。　I

cannot　bear　to　think　of　it。　I　despise　myself；

but　I　will　cease　to　be　the　despicable　thing

I　have　become。　To…morrow　sees　me　free；

and　this　harassing　subject　for　ever　at

rest。'



He　was　interrupted　here　by　the　sound

of　footsteps　heavily　but　rapidly　ascending

the　tavern　staircase。　The　room　door

opened；　and　Captain　N；　accompanied

by　a　fashionably…attired　young　man；

entered　the　room。



Young　O'Mara　had　risen　from　his　seat

on　the　entrance　of　their　unexpected

visitants；　and　the　moment　Captain　N

recognised　his　person；　an　evident　and

ominous　change　passed　over　his　countenance。

He　turned　hastily　to　withdraw；　but；

as　it　seemed；　almost　instantly　changed　his

mind；　for　he　turned　again　abruptly。



'This　chamber　is　engaged；　sir；'　said　the

waiter。



'Leave　the　room；　sir；'　was　his　only

reply。



'The　room　is　engaged；　sir；'　repeated　the

waiter；　probably　believing　that　his　first

suggestion　had　been　unheard。



'Leave　the　room；　or　go　to　hell！'　shouted

Captain　N；　at　the　same　time　seizing

the　astounded　waiter　by　the　shoulder；　he

hurled　him　headlong　into　the　passage；

and　flung　the　door　to　with　a　crash　that

shook　the　walls。　'Sir；'　continued　he；

addressing　himself　to　O'Mara；　'I　did　not

hope　to　have　met　you　until　to…morrow。

Fortune　has　been　kind　to　medraw；　and

defend　yourself。'



At　the　same　time　he　drew　his　sword；

and　placed　himself　in　an　attitude　of

attack。



'I　will　not　draw　upon　YOU；'　said　O'Mara。

'I　have；　indeed；　wronged　you。　I　have

given　you　just　cause　for　resentment；　but

against　your　life　I　will　never　lift　my

hand。'



'You　are　a　coward；　sir；'　replied　Captain

N；　with　almost　frightful　vehemence；

'as　every　trickster　and　swindler　IS。　You

are　a　contemptible　dastarda　despicable；

damned　villain！　Draw　your　sword；　sir；

and　defend　your　life；　or　every　post

and　pillar　in　this　town　shall　tell　your

infamy。'



'Perhaps；'　said　his　friend；　with　a　sneer；

'the　gentleman　can　do　better　without　his

honour　than　without　his　wife。'



'Yes；'　shouted　the　captain；　'his　wife

a　trulla　common'



'Silence；　sir！'　cried　O'Mara；　all　the

fierceness　of　his　nature　roused　by　this　last

insult'your　object　is　gained；　your　blood

be　upon　your　own　head。'　At　the　same

time　he　sprang　across　a　bench　which　stood

in　his　way；　and　pushing　aside　the　table

which　supported　the　lights；　in　an　instant

their　swords　crossed；　and　they　were

engaged　in　close　and　deadly　strife。



Captain　N　was　far　the　stronger　of

the　two；　but；　on　the　other　hand；　O'Mara

possessed　far　more　skill　in　the　use　of　the

fatal　weapon　which　they　employed。　But

the　narrowness　of　the　room　rendered　this

advantage　hardly　available。



Almost　instantly　O'Mara　received　a

slight　wound　upon　the　forehead；　which；

though　little　more　than　a　scratch；　bled　so

fast　as　to　obstruct　his　sight　considerably。



Those　who　have　used　the　foil　can　tell

how　slight　a　derangement　of　eye　or　of

hand　is　sufficient　to　determine　a　contest　of

this　kind；　and　this　knowledge　will　prevent

their　being　surprised　when　I　say；　that；

spite　of　O'Mara's　superior　skill　and

practice；　his　adversary's　sword　passed

twice　through　and　through　his　body；　and

he　fell　heavily　and　helplessly　upon　the

floor　of　the　chamber。



Without　saying　a　word；　the　successful

combatant　quitted　the　room　along　with

his　companion；　leaving　Dwyer　to　shift

as　best　he　might　for　his　fallen　comrade。



With　the　assistance　of　some　of　the

wondering　menials　of　the　place；　Dwyer

succeeded　in　conveying　the　wounded　man

into　an　adjoining　room；　where　he　was　laid

upon　a　bed；　in　a　state　bordering　upon

insensibilitythe　blood　flowing；　I　might

say　WELLING；　from　the　wounds　so　fast　as

to　show　that　unless　the　bleeding　were

speedily　and　effectually　stopped；　he　could

not　live　for　half　an　hour。



Medical　aid　was；　of　course；　instantly

procured；　and　Colonel　O'Mara；　though　at

the　time　seriously　indisposed；　was　urgently

requested　to　attend　without　loss　of　time。

He　did　so；　but　human　succour　and

support　were　all　too　late。　The　wound　had

been　truly　dealtthe　tide　of　life　had　ebbed；

and　his　father　had　not　arrived　five　minutes

when　young　O'Mara　was　a　corpse。　His

body　rests　in　the　vaults　of　Christ　Church；　in

Dublin；　without　a　stone　to　mark　the　spot。



The　counsels　of　the　wicked　are　always

dark；　and　their　motives　often　beyond

fathoming；　and　strange；　unaccountable；

incredible　as　it　may　seem；　I　do　believe；

and　that　upon　evidence　so　clear　as　to

amount　almost　to　demonstration；　that

Heathcote's　visit　to　Dublinhis　betrayal

of　the　secretand　the　final　and　terrible

catastrophe　which　laid　O'Mara　in　the

grave；　were　brought　about　by　no　other

agent　than　Dwyer　himself。



I　have　myself　seen　the　letter　which

induced　that　visit。　The　handwriting　is

exactly　what　I　have　seen　in　other　alleged

specimens　of　Dwyer's　penmanship。　It　is

written　with　an　affectation　of　honest　alarm

at　O'Mara's　conduct；　and　expresses　a

conviction　that　if　some　of　Lady　Emily's

family　be　not　informed　of　O'Mara's　real

situation；　nothing　could　prevent　his

concluding　with　her　an　advantageous　alliance；

then　upon　the　tapis；　and　altogether　throwing

off　his　allegiance　to　Ellena　step

which；　as　the　writer　candidly　asserted；

would　finally　conduce　as　inevitably　to　his

own　disgrace　as　it　immediately　would　to

her　ruin　and　misery。



The　production　was　formally　signed

with　Dwyer's　name；　and　the　postscript

contained　a　strict　injunction　of　secrecy；

asserting　that　if　it　were　ascertained　that

such　an　epistle　had　been　despatched　from

such　a　quarter；　it　would　be　attended　with

the　total　ruin　of　the　writer。



It　is　true　that　Dwyer；　many　years　after；

when　this　letter　came　to　light；　alleged　it　to

be　a　forgery；　an　assertion　whose　truth；

even　to　his　dying　hour；　and　long　after　he

had　apparently　ceased　to　feel　the　lash　of

public　scorn；　he　continued　obstinately　to

maintain。　Indeed　this　matter　is　full　of

mystery；　for；　revenge　alone　excepted；

which　I　believe；　in　such　minds　as　Dwyer's；

seldom　overcomes　the　sense　of　interest；

the　only　intelligible　motive　which　could

have　prompted　him　to　such　an　act　was　the

hope　that　since　he　had；　through　young

O'Mara's　interest；　procured　from　the

colonel　a　lease　of　a　small　farm　upon　the

terms　which　he　had　originally　stipulated；

he　might　prosecute　his　plan　touching　the

property　of　Martin　Heathcote；　rendering

his　daughter's　hand　free　by　the　removal　of

young　O'Mara。　This　appears　to　me　too

complicated　a　plan　of　villany　to　have

entered　the　mind　even　of　such　a　man　as

Dwyer。　I　must；　therefore；　suppose　his

motives　to　have　originated　out　of

circumstances　connected　with　this　story　which

may　not　have　come　to　my　ear；　and　perhaps

never　will。



Colonel　O'Mara　felt　the　death　of　his

son　more　deeply　than　I　should　have

thought　possible；　but　that　son　had　been

the　last　being　who　had　continued　to

interest　his　cold　heart。　Perhaps　the　pride

which　he　felt　in　his　child　had　in　it　more　of

selfishness　than　of　any　generous　feeling。

But；　be　this　as　it　may；　the　melancholy

circumstances　connected　with　Ellen

Heathcote　had　reached　him；　and　his

conduct　towards　her　proved；　more　strongly

than　anything　else　could　have　done；　that

he　felt　keenly　and　justly；　and；　to　a　certain

degree；　with　a　softened　heart；　the　fatal

event　of　which　she　had　been；　in　some

manner；　alike　the　cause　and　the　victim。



He　evinced　not　towards　her；　as　might

have　been　expected；　any　unreasonable

resentment。　On　the　contrary；　he　exhibited

great　consideration；　even　tenderness；　for

her　situation；　and　having　ascertained

where　his　son　had　placed　her；　he　issued

strict　orders　that　she　should　not　be

disturbed；　and　that　the　fatal　tidings；　which

had　not　yet　reached　her；　should　be　withheld

until　they　might　be　communicated　in

such　a　way　as　to　soften　as　much　as

possible　the　inevitable　shock。



These　last　directions　were　acted　upon

too　scrupulously　and　too　long；　and；

indeed；　I　am　satisfied　that　had　the　event

been　communicated　at　once；　however

terrible　and　overwhelming　the　shock

might　have　been；　much　of　the　bitterest

anguish；　of　sickening　doubts；　of　harassing

suspense；　would　have　been　spared　her；

and　the　first　tempestuous　burst　of　sorrow

having　passed　over；　her　chastened　spirit

might　have　recovered　its　tone；　and　her　life

have　been　spared。　But　the　mistaken