Back Aa

Valley of the Squinting Windows

[Pg 141] <h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> Mrs. Brennan, although she pondered it deeply, had made no advance towards full realization of her son's condition by the lakeside. Yet John felt strangely diffident about appearing before her next morning. It seemed to him that another attack had been made upon the bond between them. But when at last he came into the sewing-room she was smiling, although there was a sinking feeling around his heart as he looked upon her. Yet this would pass, he hoped, when they began to talk. The children were going the road to school, and it was the nature of Mrs. Brennan that she must needs be making comment upon what was passing before her eyes. "God help the poor, little girls," she cried, "sure 'tis the grand example they're being set by that new one, Miss Kerr, with her quare dresses and her light ways. They say she was out half the night after the concert with Ulick Shannon, and that Mrs. McGoldrick and the Sergeant are in terror of their lives for fear of robbers or the likes, seeing that they have to leave the door on the latch for her to come in at any time she pleases from her night-walking. And the lad she bees with that's after knocking about Dublin and couldn't be good anyway. But sure, be the same token, there's a touch of Dublin about her too. How well she wouldn't give me[Pg 142] the making of her new dress? But I suppose I'm old-fashioned in my cut. Old-fashioned, how are ye; and I buying Weldon's Ladies' Journal every week? But of course she had to go to Dublin to be in the tip of the fashion and see what they wear in Grafton Street in the lamplight. She had to get an outfit of immodest fol-the-dols to be a disgrace in the chapel every Sunday, and give room to the missioners when they come to say things that may have an injurious effect upon poor dressmakers like myself who strive to earn a living as decently as we can." This harangue was almost unnoticed by John Brennan. It was a failing of his mother to be always speaking thus in terms of her trade. He knew that if Miss Kerr had come here with her new dress, fine words and encomiums would now be spoken of her in this room. But it was his mother who was speaking—and he was thinking of the girl who had filled his vision. And his mother was still talking: "That Ulick Shannon, I hate him. I wish you wouldn't let yourself be seen along with him. It is not good for you, avic machree. Of course I know the kind of talk you do be having, son. About books and classes and the tricks and pranks of you at college. Ah, dear, I know; but I'd rather to God it was any other one in the whole world. I'm fearing in me heart that there's a black, black side to him. It's well known that he bees always drinking in Garradrimna, and now see how he's after striking up with the schoolmistress one. Maybe 'tis what he'd try to change you sometime, for as sure as you're there I'm afraid and afraid. And to think after all I have prayed for you through all the[Pg 143] years, upon me two bare knees in the lonely nights, if an affliction should come." "What affliction, mother? What is it?" He came nearer, and gazing deep into her face saw that there were tears in her eyes. Her eyes were shining like deep wells. "Ah, this, son. If it should ever come that you did not think well to do me wish, after all I have done—" She checked herself of a sudden, and it was some moments before John replied. He, too, was thinking of Ulick Shannon. There was a side to his friend that he did not like. Yesterday he had not liked him. There were moments when he had hated him. But that mood and the reason for it seemed to have passed from him during the night. It was a far thing now, and Ulick Shannon was as he had been to John, who could not think ill of him. Yet it was curious that his mother should be hinting at things which, if he allowed his mind to dwell upon them at all, must bring back his feelings of yesterday.... But he felt that he must speak well of his friend. "Ah, sure there is nothing, mother. You are only fancying queer things. At college I have to meet hundreds of fellows. He's not a bad chap, and I like speaking to him. It is lonely here without such intercourse. He realizes keenly how people are always talking of him, how the smallest action of his is construed and constructed in a hundred different ways, until he's driven to do wild things out of very defiance to show what he thinks of the mean people of the valley and their opinion of him—" "They're not much, I know—" [Pg 144] "But at heart, I think, he's somehow like myself, and I can't help liking him." "All the same he shouldn't be going with a girl and, especially, a little chit of a schoolmistress like this one, for I can't stand her." Why did she continue to hammer so upon the pulse of his thought?... With bowed head he began to drift out of the room. Why had she driven him to think now of Rebecca Kerr?... He was already in the sunlight. To-day he would not go towards the lake, but up through the high green fields of Scarden. He was taking The Imitation of Christ with him, and, under the shade of some noble tree, it was his intention to turn his thoughts to God and away from the things of life. It seemed grand to him, with a grandeur that had more than a touch of the color of Heaven, to be ascending cool slopes through the green, soft grass and to be looking down upon the valley at its daily labor. The potatoes and turnips still required attention. He saw men move patiently behind their horses over the broken fields of red earth beneath the fine, clear clay, and thought that here surely was the true vocation of him who would incline himself unto God.... But how untrue was this fancy when one came to consider the real personality of these tillers of the soil? There was not one of whom Mrs. Brennan could not tell an ugly story. Not one who did not consider it his duty to say uncharitable things of Ulick Shannon and Rebecca Kerr. Not one who would not have danced with gladness if a great misfortune had befallen John Brennan, and made a holiday in Garradrimna if anything terrible had happened to any one within the circle of their acquaintance. [Pg 145] John Brennan's attention was now attracted by a man who moved with an air of proprietorship among a field of sheep. He was a tall man in black, moving darkly among the white crowd of the sheep, counting them leisurely and allowing his mind to dwell upon the pageant of their perfect whiteness. He seemed to be reckoning their value as the pure yield of his pastures. Here was another aspect of the fields.... The man in black was coming towards him with long strides. It took John some moments to realize that he had strayed into the farm of the Shannons and that this was Myles Shannon who was coming over to meet him.... He was a fine, clean man seen here amid the rich surroundings of his own fields. But he had advanced far into bachelorhood, and the russet was beginning to go out of his cheeks. It seemed a pity of the world that he had not married, for just there, hidden behind the billowy trees, was the fine house to which he might have brought home a wife and reared up a family to love and honor him in his days. But his romance had been shattered by a piece of villainy which had leaped out from the darkness of the valley. And now he was living here alone. But he was serenely independent, exhibiting a fine contempt, as well he might, for the mean strugglers around him. He took his pleasures here by himself in this quiet house among the trees. Had he been asked to name them, he could have told you in three words—books and drink. Not that they entered into his life to any great extent, for he was a wise man even in his indulgence.... But who was there to see him or know since he did not choose to publish himself in Garradrimna? And there was many a time when he worked[Pg 146] himself into a great frenzy while brooding over the story of his dead brother Henry, and his own story, and Nan Byrne.... Even now he was thinking darkly of Nan Byrne as he came forward to meet her son across his own field. "Good-day, Mr. Brennan!" he said affably. He had no personal grudge against this young man, but his scheme of revenge inevitably included him, for it was through John Brennan, her son, that Nan Byrne now hoped to aspire, and it was him she hoped to embody as a monument of her triumph over destructive circumstances before the people of the valley. John went forward and shook the hand of Mr. Shannon with deference. A fine cut of a man, surely, this Myles Shannon, standing here where he might be clearly viewed. He appeared as a survival from the latter part of the Victorian era. He was still mutton-chopped and mustachioed after the fashion of those days. He wore a long-tailed black coat like a morning-coat. His waistcoat was of the same material. Across the expanse of it extended a wide gold chain, from which dangled a bunch of heavy seals. These shook and jingled with his every movement. His trousers were of a dark gray material, with stripes, which seemed to add to the height and erectness of his figure. His tall, stiff collar corrected the thoughtful droop of his head, and about it was tastefully fixed a wide black tie of shiny silk which reached down underneath his low-cut waistcoat. His person was surmounted by an uncomfortable-looking bowler hat with a very hard, curly brim. When he smiled, as just now, his teeth showed in even,[Pg 147] fine rows and exhibited some of the cruelty of one who has allowed his mind to dwell darkly upon a passionate purpose. But the ring of his laugh was hearty enough and had the immediate effect of dispelling suspicions of any sinister purpose. He said he was glad to see how his casual suggestion, made upon the day they had journeyed down from Dublin together, had borne fruit, that Mr. Brennan and his nephew, Ulick, had so quickly become friends. John thanked him, and began to speak in terms of praise about Ulick Shannon. Mr. Shannon again bared his even, white teeth in a smile as he listened.... A strong friendship, with its consequent community of inclinations, had already been established. And he knew his nephew. "He's a clever chap, I'll admit, but he's so damned erratic. He seems bent upon crushing the experience of a lifetime into a few years. Why I'm a man, at the ripened, mellow period of life, and it's a fact that he could teach me things about Dublin and all that." John Brennan was uncertain in what way he should confirm this, but at last he managed to stammer out: "Ulick is very clever!" "He's very fond of Garradrimna, and I think he's very fond of the girls." "It's so dull around here compared with Dublin." John appeared a fool by the side of this man of the world, who was searching him with a look as he spoke again: "It's all right for a young fellow to gain his experience as early as he can, but he's a bit too fond of his pleasure. He's going a bit too far." [Pg 148] John put on a strained look of advocacy, but he spoke no word. "He's not a doctor yet, and even then his living would not be assured; and do ye know what he had the cheek to come telling me the other night— "'I've got infernally fond of that little girl,' he says. "'What girl?' I asked in amazement. "'Why, that schoolmistress—Rebecca Kerr. I'm "gone" about her. I'm in love with her. She's not at all like any of the others.'" Myles Shannon, with his keen eyes, saw the sudden light of surprise that leaped into the eyes of John Brennan. The passion of his hatred and the joy of his cruelty were stirred, and he went on to develop the plot of the story he had invented. "And what for," said I to him, "are you thinking of any girl in that way. I, as your guardian, am able to tell you that you are not in a position to marry. Surely you're not going to ruin this girl, or allow her to ruin you. Besides she is only a strolling schoolmistress from some unknown part of Donegal, and you are one of the Shannon family. 'But I'm "gone" about her,' was what Ulick said. How was I to argue against such a silly statement?" The color was mounting ever higher on John Brennan's cheeks. But the relentless man went on playing with him. "Of course I have not seen her, but, by all accounts, she's a pretty girl and possesses the usual share of allurements. Is not that so?" "She's very nice." "And, do you know what? It has come to me up[Pg 149] here, although I may seem to be a hermit among the fields who takes no interest in the world, that you have been seen walking down the valley road together. D'ye remember yesterday morning, eh?" John was blushing still, and a kind of sickly smile made his fine face look queer. All kinds of expressions were trying to form themselves upon his tongue, yet not one of them could he manage to articulate. "Not that I blame a young fellow, even one intended for the Church, if he should have a few inclinations that way. But I can see that you are the good friend of my nephew, and indeed it would be a pity if anything came to spoil that friendship, least of all a bit of a girl.... And both of you being the promising young men you are.... It would be terrible if anything like that should come to pass." Even to this John could frame no reply. But the ear of Mr. Shannon did not desire it, for his eye had seen all that he wished to know. He beheld John Brennan shivering as within the cold and dismal shadows of fatality.... They spoke little more until they shook hands again, and parted amid the dappled grass. To Myles Shannon the interview had been an extraordinary success.... Yet, quite suddenly, he found himself beginning to think of the position of Rebecca Kerr. <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2

Update Required To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.