The Fortunes of Hector O'Halloran, and His Man, Mark Antony O'TooleMaxwell, W. H. (William Hamilton)
General
The Fortunes of Hector O'Halloran, and His Man, Mark Antony O'Toole
Maxwell, W. H. (William Hamilton)
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
In ten minutes the host returned, followed by an elderly man. The latter
made me a dutiful obeisance; but when approaching the table, and the
light fell strongly on my face, under a sudden impulse he caught my
hand, pressed it to his lips, and seemed to be powerfully affected.
The likeness to my mother at once established my identity; and in a few
minutes, if by the agency of George Smith I could have been placed in
that house to which I wus natural heir, it would have been instantly
effected. A half-hour’s conversation determined our course of
operations, and I learned enough regarding my grandfather’s habits to
convince me, that, with good luck, the interview I desired might be
obtained.
It appeared that in good weather, there was a favourite seat in a
sheltered corner of the park, to which Mr. Clifford generally repaired.
There he would sometimes remain an hour, while the Confessor walked
backwards and forwards reading the daily office which the rules of his
order imposed. Occasionally, Mr. Clifford employed himself with some
devotional book; and all intrusions on the part of servants were rigidly
prohibited. From strangers none could be apprehended, as none were
allowed to pass the gates.
In a thick clump immediately adjacent to the bench where Mr. Clifford
rested, it was arranged that I should lie _perdu_, and if fortune
offered the opportunity, I was to sally from my ambuscade, and seize it.
The keeper was to assist me to scale the wall, and point out the place
where I could best conceal myself--and, to the blind goddess of the
wheel, the rest was properly committed.
I know not wherefore, but that night I went to sleep with all the
buoyancy of hope, although I had no reason to think that chances wild
as mine could prove successful. In my dreams, however, results were
fortunate--every obstacle was overcome--I was reconciled to Mr.
Clifford; and, better still, united to Isidora.
After breakfast old George announced himself, and the weather was
propitious. It was one of those fine autumnal mornings which promise a
hot noon and a frosty evening. From an angle of the park wall, the lower
bough of a large beech tree extended itself. It was not ten feet above
the ground, and, by throwing a rope across, it required but small
exertion to gain it; and that done, the entrance to the park was easy.
Inside, the gamekeeper was to await my advent. The host furnished me
with what is not generally an acceptable present; but the halter--for it
was one--well nigh proved the ladder to my fortunes.
At the appointed time I made the attempt, and succeeded; and, stealing
along the shrubbery, gained the clump, and took a safe position behind
a thick holly, not six yards distant from the seat which the keeper
pointed out as the one generally occupied by Mr. Clifford.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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