“Dead!” exclaimed my father. “And has left you heir to all his property?” The Colonel sprang from his chair--his solitary arm encircled my mother’s waist, as he pressed her passionately to his heart. “Emily,” said he, “when the sad tidings arrived this morning that we were houseless, I felt only for the boy and thee. Well, before the same sun went down, dove-like you came, the harbinger of happiness. The ‘barren heritage’ I quitted with regret, will be amply replaced by the rich lands of Killucan; and, once more, a peaceful home--such as we had in England, love--is ours. Never despond, Emily--and even in his darkest hour let an Irishman trust to the lady of the wheel--for I verily believe, if there be a spot on earth for which the blind baggage has a particular fancy, blessed Saint Patrick! that island is your own.” CHAPTER IV. MY ENTRÉE ON THE WORLD. “My father bless’d me fervently, Yet did not much complain; But sorely will my mother sigh Till I come hack again.”--Childe Harold. |The residence and domain so opportunely bequeathed to Colonel O’Halloran, formed a striking contrast to his ancient home. Like the domicile of Justice Shallow, every thing about Knockloftie might have been described as “barren all,” with the qualification of “marry, good air,” while Killucan was situated in an inland county remarkable for its fertility. The house was a large and commodious building, almost concealed by trees, the growth of at least a century; the parks were rich and well laid down; comfort was within the dwelling,--plenty without it; and as they say in Connaught, no man “came into a snugger sitting down” than my worthy father. Here ten years of boyhood passed away: and here at the feet of that gifted Gamaliel, father Dominic, my foster-brother and myself were indoctrinated. The priest had borne the departure of my parents with all the resignation a Christian man could muster; but as he declared afterwards, the destruction of Knockloftie fairly broke his heart. When his patron unexpectedly succeeded to a goodly inheritance, it is difficult to decide whether to the churchman or the commander, this fortunate event caused the greater satisfaction. At the first summons, father Dominic abandoned his wild charge, and resumed the official duties in our establishment;--said mass for my mother, confessed the maids, aided and assisted the Colonel in the diurnal demolition of three bottles of antiquated port, and endeavoured into the bargain, to knock Latin into me, and “the fear of God,” as he called it, into the heart of my foster-brother. How far either attempt proved successful, it is not for me to say. As to myself, Dominic occasionally declared that I should try the temper of a saint; and as to Marc Antony, he rather hoped than expected that he might not “spoil a market;” meaning thereby, that the aforesaid Marc Antony would be hanged.