CHAPTER XI. GERVASE MACNAMARA'S STORY. THERE was a rough week, as far as regarded the weather, after our arrival at the island, for the Equinox set in a fortnight before its time, and for three days, such a south-west gale blew out of the heavens, accompanied by almost incessant torrents of rain, as for strength and durability I had never witnessed before. On the afternoon of the second day there was a delusive breaking of the thick cloud-like vapours that hung over every object on the earth and in the sky, and to our infinite satisfaction we caught a momentary glimpse of the mountains on the mainland. "Look!" said Gascoigne, as he handed me a large telescope. "Do you see that cleft, black and hollow, with two unequally tall, and almost perpendicular acclivities, rising on either side of it?" GERVASE MACNAMARA'S STORY. 207 "I do distinctly, and a small white object at the base of the hollow." "That object is a house," continued our host; "and in it lives the best of landlords and good fellows, and my only neighbour." "It must be charming in summer," said Bertha, who had been examining the site of the desolate mountain residence. 'But you do not mean that any human being lives there always?" 66 "Macnamara does, or nearly so," replied Philip. "He thinks it his duty as a landlord, and of one whose responsibilities as such are very great, to sacrifice his personal comfort, and that of as good a wife as ever lived, in order that he may live amongst his tenantry. It is a sacrifice of course, but as he says, he does not think himself justified in leaving his tenants to the tender mercies of a bailiff, who would probably mislead him as to their real condition. He has been very liberal to them this year, knowing how great is the universal distress, and has abated considerably his claim to rent in the case of wellconducted and industrious tenants. In other instances he has not ejected summarily those unable to pay— knowing that they would become a general burthen to the poor rate-payers-but has denied himself and his wife many a luxury, and above all, the great one of change and society, in order to assist the starving creatures (lying, as too many of the country people now do, upon straw, and feeding upon half rations) with the wherewithal to emigrate to a more prosperous land. But," continued Philip, "if Mrs. Fairholme is 'agreeable,' I will tell you an anecdote of Macnamara's early life (he was a wild and careless young fellow then); and how, ten years ago, he won the wife, who has since been in these wild solitudes so invaluable a helpmate. "The estate of Cuiltra had been for generations back the property of Gervase Macnamara's family. It was not a very profitable possession, for the proportion of rock and moorland was considerable, but Gervase, as I have just said, has done his best to improve the land as well as the condition, both moral and physical, of his tenantry. The last owner of Cuiltra left behind him a widow and two sons, to say nothing of an unmarried daughter, who also plays a part in the following history. The sons were intelligent and well-looking young men, especially the eldest, and both were bent upon pursuing some profession in the busy world, and leaving their mountain home with its prospects of ill-paid rents, its view of the Atlantic Ocean, and its desolate moorland, to the care of the mother and her bailiff. GERVASE MACNAMARA'S STORY. 209 "In pursuance of this resolve, Gervase obtained a commission in an infantry regiment, and Peter, the younger brother, became in process of time junior partner in a respectable and thriving medical 'house' in Dublin. It chanced that when Gervase had just purchased his commission, his regiment was ordered to the Irish capital, and that then and there he met with the young lady who is now the sharer of that pretty house among the hills, the which abode, when you make a better acquaintance with its merits and situation, will I hope attract a large share of your admiration. "Miss Flora Johnstone was the niece and adopted daughter of an old English bachelor, who had retired into private life upon the fortune of twenty thousand pounds, made in a successful mercantile career. Her mother was an Irishwoman, and at the time when Gervase became acquainted with her, she and old Johnstone were visiting some relations who lived in the neighbourhood of Dublin. Flora was pretty, and light both of heart and heels, a little inclined to be 'fast,' but a very good little girl withal, and the way that with all her heart she enjoyed the Lord Lieutenant's balls and receptions and her flirtations with the officers and the aides-de-camp, was a pleasure to behold. I shall spare you and myself the description of P the rise and progress of the more serious affair with Gervase Macnamara, which ere long lent a graver look to her bright grey eyes, and sent them with a wandering glance around, whenever the handsome Irish captain was by chance absent from her side. Now, the fair Flora, besides that she was tolerably rich in personal attractions, was known to be extremely so (in prospect at least) in worldly possessions; and this, strange as it may seem, appeared in the eyes of the romantic Gervase to be the only drawback to his promised, or at least hoped-for, happiness. For had he not a snug little property of his own which brought him in a clear six hundred pounds a-year? and, besides, had not the Macnamaras once been kings, and could it be supposed that a descendant of a royal race would stoop to seek the money-bags of a Saxon? "There was doubtless something very grand and imposing in this independence of feeling, but unfortunately the whole structure gave way before the artillery of Flora's grey eyes, and Captain Macnamara and his pride surrendered at discretion. Then, however, and not till then, came the real tug of war, for Uncle Jacob Johnstone, when he was appealed to, refused his consent in terms which scarcely permitted even of a remonstrance, and the unfortunate |