Copyright Story. The Shah’s Adventure.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLV, Issue 21, 23 November 1910, Page 59

Copyright Story. The Shah’s Adventure.

By

L. RUTHERFOORD SKEY.

(Author of ” Passing Down the Avenue,” etc.)

YI Y KOI BLOUS days had fallen upon old Balleen Castle. The young A ladies, last representatives of the ancient house of MeLougltJin, had been sinking deeper and deeper into the pit prepared for them. The first shovelful of rich virgin soil, out of which the pit was hollowed, had been heaved aside, lightheartedly, by Ma jor McLoughlin the day he approached his new tenant, and neighbour, Mr. Joseph Frost, for a temporary loan of one hundred pounds. The loan was to be repaid in three months. The Major’s promise was made in all good faith but it suited Mr. Front’s book better to encourage the gallant officer to stave off the evil day of repayment. The great Leveller, meantime, stepped in unaware and laid the Major low on the cold b sum of Mother Earth; by which time Mr. Joseph Frost, gombeen man in disguise, had managed to mount up a insignificant debt to one hundred pounds multiplied by ten. Nor was this all; the gombeen man. afflicted by a plethora of wealth and flesh, was

afflicted likewise by the pangs of hopeless, or at least unrequitted love. If he sighed, he sighed in private and in vain till the happy day dawned when, confident of success, he was determined that the debt should be redeemed. For Major McLoughlin lay silent beneath the turf he loved. From a singular, frankly engaging child, Ellice McLoughlin had developed into a lovely dark-eyed girl of twentyone, with cheeks that rivalled the peaches on the south wall of the old-world gat den of Balleen Castle, famous though these were for their richness and bloom. It was just a week previous to the Major's sudden decease that Joseph Frost bethought himself of his outstanding loan and requested an early settlement—or, in lieu thereof, the hand of the beautiful Ellice. Unfortunately, the Major's banking account was over drawn, and he knew not where to turn to lay his hands upon a thousand pence. Death relieved him of his anxieties, and he passed away under a stroke, leaving, his two girls his embarrassments and liabilities for legacy.

For six months Mr. Frost paid the mourning daughters every conceivable attention, offering assistance and advice on every possible occasion, till one day Ellice McLoughlin saw a look in the man's eyes that filled her young mind ami soul with repugnance and loathing. Could that over-fed, ignorant money-god imagine that she could ever, ever love him? Yet that was exactly what his eyes plainly said, and what obviously his lips only awaited occasion to repeat. Ellice cut the interview short, ami withdrew to her room—“to cry her purty eyes out.” as Biddy Murphy afterwards described it—and then sought her sister. “We must leave the old place, Kathleen,” she said quietly. “We must sell Balleen.” She would rather beg her daily bread than marry that creature Frost, whose fat, flabby hands made her delicate flesh creep with repulsion. Kathleen’s tears were mingled with her sister’s when Biddy, one-time nurse and now maid of all work, entered the room. “Why then. Miss Ellice and Miss Kath-

leen, what sorrow's on you at all?” she cried. “Oh, Biddy, dear.*’ her young mistruss replied with a choked sob, “we must sell dear, dear old Balleen!” In a few words she explained the pitiful situation and Biddy went away muttering fiercely about the nasty ways of gombeen men when their name was Frost. Biddy trudged out to the stables to consult the tower of Balleen s strength, Custv Kane, coachman, gardener, handyman and general factotum, and Biddy Murphy's forlorn matrimonial hope. “Gusty, '(isn't much use or ornament you’ll be if you don’t conthrive some ’cute way to bate that ould villain,” she concluded, turning her broad back on the admiring (histy. “Faix, I’ll do me best to dhrive a rusty nail into his coilin afore he's ready to Ih* helped into it,’’ said Gusty, punctuating his reply by deliberate and profuse expectoration. But when Biddy was out of sight Gusty scratched his head in great ti ibulation. “The dear knows, the dear knows,”

he lamented, “why a dacint man like meoe’l should be punished this way! The divil wants batin’ and so dues the divil’s fry.” “Gusty,” said a sweet, commanding voice at the stable door, “bring out the Shd’u. I want to look at him.” Gusty pulled his forelock, hastened to the Shah’s loose-box, and led the blueblooded hunter forth. The beautiful horse stepped gracefully over the paved floor, out into the square grass-grown courtyard. His coat shone like spun silk in the warm sunshine; his long, magnificent tail swayed to the movements of his slender, wonderful legs. Ellice had owned the Shah since he. was a leggy young colt and she would never consent to the curtailment o»f his splendid tail: and her love for him grew daily, as he grew in strength and beauty, in depth and intensity. She laid her hand on the arching, glossy neck ami let her cheek rest a moment against the silky curves of his shoulder. Had it come to this? “Take him back, Gusty,” she said, turning away. “You mus’t take him to the fair to-morrow —to be sold.” And she walked across the courtyard with her head held resolutely up. But her eyes were filled with unshed tears. The s’ins of the fathers were to be visited upon the children! “Poor Father.” she said, stemming back the tide behind her eyelashes, “you little dreamt it would come to this! ’ Baek to his loose-box Gusty led the Shah. As he turned to fasten the door he spat again on the paved floor, and

scratched his head anew for inspiration. Presently a smile added to the width of his broad face. Into the stable Biddy stole like a thief in the night. “What's that Miss Elliice was sayin’, Gusty avick?” she whispered. “Arrab, what would she be sayin’, woman dear, but that I'm to sell me. heart's blood on the fair to-morrow? What else? An’ haven’t 1 rared him as if he was a Christian all out an' the child of me bosom? Be off with yourse’f while \our shoes are good, Biddy Murphy.’’ , Ihe rest of that day Gusty spent grooming the Shah's “own brother*’ in the stall by the stable window'- currycombing, brushing, blacking boots — hissing melodiously as he applied the “elbow grease.’’ By the time he had lini>hrd and stood surveying the seem* of bis labours, the horse. Gusty averred, was “the dead mott’’ of the famous Shah. “An’ faix, bis own brother might -■be desaved be him if they stood side by. *ide with no more nor the width of the yard be tune thean!”

About eh yen o’clock Gusty arrived on the fair green with ihe Shah. An air of extreme pride and importance sat on Gusty's stolid face as he led his charge through the gate. the Shah tossed hjs head and pulled with gentle persistence on the bit. In a few minutes a small crowd of horse dealers and horsey farmers gathered round Gusty. But their eyes Were glued on the horse he led. “1 rot him out,” said a dealer encouragingly. Gusty smoked his short “Tay” with calm indifference, and marched on as though the fair green h id been established solely for the benefit of the Shaft. 1 nscemly haste did not become a seller, though no one liked it better in a buyer than did Gusty Kane. “Get up, man, and try him at the jumjrs!” said another. “What’s your price. Gusty?” anked a farmer to whom horse and man were ol daily familiarity. “Five—hundred— pounds!” The crowd roared. “Will ye take five pounds—in gold?” asked one. “Ah. man, sure he’s wall-eyed and rising fifteen if he's a day!” volunteered another. Gusty eyed the speaker stonily. “An’ be the same token, you’re blind of half an eye, broken-wrinded, and rishi’ fifty, me boy-oh,” replied Gusty leisurely. “Stand back there, ye spalpeens.” This latter was addressed to a kimt of urchins who wore sprawling in his path across the green. The lads scattered at the sound of Gusty's switch singing over their ears. In the centre of the marke-t-placo Gusty took his stand and handled hi< horse dexterously, but with a fine air of modesty. A group of dealers followed in the wake, and in the rear of the dealers some gentlemen drew’ up. Gusty watched them out the corners of his eyes. Presently he made a sign to a man on hia right. "Jer.” he muttered as he examined the Shah's hoofs, “d'ye know anny of them chaps?” “I do.” Jer answered under his breath. “Thirsty weather, Jer . • “A glass or two would do no .harm/* s siiid Jer, spying the neck of a buttle in Gusty’s coa.t-ta.i4fc. “A well-greasud tongue is better than a stiff wan .any day o' the week, glory be to God,” remarked Gusty standing with his back to .Jer while Jer extracted the bottle neatly. “I'm try in’ to sell the baste .to ould Frost—gombeen man, rogue, robber of the widdow and the fatherless. If you know anyone with a spare bag o’ gold in the bank, tip him tin* wink, Jer. like a dacint boy.” > •“Faith, Gusty. 1 left none of me seven senses in the bed this morning.” Jfrst rolled off ami entered into casual talk with the men he knew. The neck of th« bottle made intimate friendships ere th« liquid it contained had time to mellow, with old age. Drawing the kick j»f his ham! across bis mouth, a dealer stepped forward to feel the Shah's legs. . “Light!” he.said, shaking his head. “Is it light?” queried Gusty, confidentially. "Be me so.wl, he's that light on the legn you'd think he was a swallow on the wing. Divil a word of a lit* in it, he added clearing his mouth to "lay the

dust.” ' t The dealer examined the horse’s mouth. “Bising six,” said (lusty, without turning a hair. “Sixteen,” amended the dealer. “ ’Tis the course of nature ami no harm at all,” said Gusty smartly. “He’s as steady as a judge—and grand blood in him racehorse stock, str. At tlrn Mullinahinnessey Point to Point races he. bet sixteen competitors—an’ he'd a done the same lisy on three legs if only he'd lieen axed. Peter's Wife’s Mother's grandson. If he wns a Christian hd wouldn't call the Queen his aunt. Quiet. a<s a lainb. no thricka, never said 'boo’ to a goose* nor ‘no’ to a fence in all his born day-: fresh as a daisy winkin’ the top o' tiie morning to the sun ay, after three divs hard liuiF.ing! Look at the. eve of him. feel them legs. The ’cutcness of tlw haste bates all ever I saw — faitii, it kings Banagher and Banagher bangs the divil! Well if you'll believo me. sir.—and it's a fact now I'm telling ye 1 saw him one day with me own .two eves, bad luck to them! look round nt I lie horses u.‘. the meet nt the cross rohds Lev..nd. jii'i above Mat MoriarityS on the other side of th. Knock, where

(here s the ugliest fence to be found between here and the Devils Soup-pot, •nd if the rogue didn't spot the Master's own old black stager as never owned a snatch at a fence 'ceptin' it might be himself, and be the powers—” Gusty s hand flew to his wideawake. ‘'Good morning. Mister Frost; tine morning, sir. Grand weather, thanks lie to God: grand weacher for the turnips if t would only come a fine soft shower • . . les, sir, ’tis the mistress’s little baste, sure enough. I’ve here—tidy little baste. 1 was just 'telling this man—- “ Beg pardon, sir? . . What am 1 doin’? Faix, prosecutin’ a tritiinb bit o’ busi-ness-waitin’ for e’er a gintieman that knows tlie value of a blood horse —’’ “What are you asking?’’ “Asking all 1 can get. Why, now, whisper, sir, and 1 11 tell your honour a sacret; me instructions are to sell the horse to tlie best man on the market this flay. 1 m not to let him go for the most that can lie riz on him. That’s the ticket, gintiemen all. And may the best man take the baste home.” “I’ll give you fifty sovereigns," said a yojge, “Here, sonny,” said Gusty, loudly, come here and take this thoroughbred Over them jumps beyond. Will you be able to hold him now ? Whoa . . . Aisy.” Gusty swung a small boy on to tlie Shah s bare back, put the reins in his hands and turned the horses head in the direction indicated. The lad, who had been hungering for tlie chance, tucked his bare heels into the sleek sides and gathered up the reins like a master Of horse. The Shah stepped out daintily with a well-bred spring in his slender legs. Then one by one he skimmed over each obstacle in his way without effort or question. His action was irreproachable, his jumping clean and stylish. The group of men around Gusty grew in numbers. Small, scattered knots of talking, idle men, concentrated about the middle of the green, attracted like so many needles to the magnet’s point. The Shah held court like a queen, but exacted homage as a king. His like was seldom seen on a hunting field and never on a horse fair. As -the bare-footed, bare-headed joekey pulled him in he was greeted by a round of spontaneous applause, and still the crowd increased apace. Gusty pushed back the hat off his foreSieau. 'AVell, gintiemen?” He cleared, his throat interrogatively. At his side stood Mr. Joseph Frost, a large, heavv man with a well-stocked waistcoat. “Hem.” Mr. Frost cleared his throat. “Dirt-cheap sir,” said Gusty, sinking his voice, “at anything ve’d name . . . What? Gne—one—one-fifty for you, sir? Thank you, sir. Cheap be my song.” Gusty looked all round him lugubriously. ‘‘Faix, the times do be bad entirely. Kong ago, Mr. Frost, sir. that baste standing there before ye’d be swep’ off to foreign parts by one o’ them head fellows from England afore ye’d well know where your eyes were.” “Mothors, mothors, ’’tis them that’s destroyed the horse trade all out,” mourned Jer, and comforted himself at • long pull at the bottle neck. “Bild luck to them for mothors! But ’twon’t be to-morrow, no, nor the day after, they’ll make them sweet-dirty lads lepp over hedges and ditches whin the foxhounds is out for an airing. Bad cess to the one of them bat’ll have to stretch his leg across a horse if he’s to follow the sport at all.” “Hem,” proclaimed Mr. Frost, loudly. “He seems a likely young horse.” “Divil a likelier ever 1 see, yer honour.” “I’ll give you two-twenty-five,” said Mr. Frost, bursting with pomp and circumstance. In Mr. Frost's estimation Mr. Frost was a man of consequence. “Sir,” said Gusty, despairingly, “I do declare to you when Miss McLoughlin told me *to sell the noble baste I’d ne’er a word in life to say for meself, for she dotes on the same horse. And—whisper. sir?—there's not the likes of him in the county nor in Ireland for nateness in a wedding present!” “What's the bidding?” asked a voice svlik-h strangely resembled Jer’s procee fling from the neighlxiurhoixl of his boots. “Three hundred and fifty guineas is the last I heard, and, sure, that’s no price at all for such a fine ba-te,” answered Gusty promptly. “Boy, take the horse across them little lepps beyond. Any more offers, gentlemen?” Silence reigned while tlie Shah negotiate! the hurdle, bank and stonewall and back again, stone-wall, bank •nd hurdle, in superb stvle. The featherweight Micky sat perched upon his back tike • bird on a swaying branch.

“Faith, Vis child’s play to him,” remarked the industrious Gusty. “Tedious work, selling a horse. Look here, sir,” his voice sank into a melodious whisper as he turned to Frost, “TH make a clane -and honest deal with you. Add fifty guineas a piece for them three lepps he took —there’s no telling what the haste’ll lie worth in another five year. Say the word, sir, and he’s yours at five hundred —guineas! He pushed his soft had further back. “Will ye take four hundred—even money?” said a voice. “Faix, Captain Nolan, I wouldn’t say no, Inuring I got me orders to do the best I could, whatever it might be. And, by rason of that, maybe there’s a gentleman here—” As a red rag to an infuriated bull so was the very name of the detested Captain Nolan to Mr. Joseph Frost, In Captain Nolan he saw a rival, a dangerous man in his path to the altar. The mere mention of that name now drove the unsuspecting Frost straight into the net. He would have eaten his 'head off rather than be outdone by a half-pay, aristocratic snob. “I accept your offer—l’ll give five hundred guineas!” he cried, growing purple lest the other should outbid him yet, “Done!” cried Gusty and spat on his hand. “Shake hands, sir! I’m proud to THAT HEAD-BAND.

deal with a rale gentleman. . . The little 'horse is sold. ge-n*ts, and we m-iv as well be moving on.” As they stood on the steps of the bank, where the crisp notes had been exchanged and deposited by the careful Gusty, a boy was seen leading a horse to and fro. At a first glance he might have been taken for the Shah. Mr. Frost, unusually affable in his purse-full conceit, saw ami remarked upon him. ‘’Nice Little horse.’’ “The Shah's own brother, sir; grand weight-ca crier.” “H’m . . . Selling him to-day?” “Well now, sir—not rightly, so to speak. Balleen’s a small place, sir, and blood etock has, in a manner of -spikin’, to take it time about. Here, Mike, bring over that horse. Maybe you'll be wanting a weight-carrier one dav, sir, and if so be— He's a beauty and no mistake—Peter's Wife’s .Mother’s grandson—to oblige your honour I’d lie tempted to give him away at three-fifty.” Gusty waxed eloquent, so eloquent that ten nrrnwtes later they disappeared into the Bank again and notes to the tune of three hundred pounds were lodged in Mi-s McLoughlin’s name. Then Gusty stood at the counter, scratching his head sheepishly. “Well, I must be going.” he said in a hoarse undertone, “to get that big horse of Captain Nolan’s which he’s going, as you might say, hat and all, to make a little keepsake of to the young mistress. When 1 told him I’d sold the Shah- to your honour he gave a screech out of him all as though I’d sold the Bank of Ireland over his head! Well, nothing woukl do him at all but I must take his own hunter—the one that took the big lepp over the tea-frit wall be Sullivan's hay-barn—do Herself—and sure I needn’t •ay why, either. And. mind you—the grand gentleman that he is, to be sure! • —he made me take me oath on the Book I'd let ne’er a word out of me what

stable the horse came from, for fear, ye understand, for fear the young lady’d send him home, post-haste, and he couldn’t, he said, in rason bear to see Herself breaking her heart for the horse she rared. Captain Nolan’s a fine gentleman, sor, saving your honour’s presence. And there’s no telling what’ll happen one of these days. Well, sure, God prosper him anyway. The last time he was at the Castle divil resave the lie if he didn’t put a bit of gold into me hand all for just holding his horse for the matter of an hour or so. ’Twas no trouble at all to me.” Frost’s waistcoat swelled, and his fat cheeks grew red and angry. Slipping a gold coin into Gusty’s palm, “My good fellow,” he said, pompously, “I never intended to deprive Miss McLoughlin of her favourite. I desire you to take the horse back to her, and—and—” “Sir,” said Gusty turning up his eyes solemnly, “you may trust me. Not to me dying day will I whisper your name to Miss Ellice—l’ll keep your honour’s secret if I lose me tongue by it! Faix, (aptain Nolan may keep hie ould nag himself—-your honour's got 'the rale generous spirit and no mistake! Goodday, sir, and may heaven be your lied!” Gusty whipped out of the bank as nimbly as a goat detected in mischief. But he wandered round and round the town, asking as he went if anyone had sight or tidings of Captain Nolan. His search and inquiries were fruitless. “Bedad,” muttered Gusty, “divil a bit of him ever set foot on the fair-green this day! That’s all the account I can get of him! Whait’ll Ido at all?” He was hedged by difficulties, and through Captain Nolan only could he hope for relief from them. For if ever a man steeped in love could extricate his adored one from such embarrassments as held Ellice McLoughlin in their cruel grip, complicated by the embarrassments that held Gusty in a vice in his laudable endeavour to relieve her, surely it could only be Captain Nolan? Slowly and sadly, muddled by the drink in which he tried to drown his perplexities, he began his homeward Journey with the Shah when he could find neither Captain nor excuse for putting off the evil hour of reckoning. What story to carry to Miss Ellice he did not know, except that wild horses would not drag the name of Frost from hrs lips. As he said —“Be this and be that 1 might as well go drown meself as to tell her where the money came from. Gh, Captain, dear, if only ye knew the trouble that’s in me shoes this day,

’tisn’t deluding me this way you’d be!” On the road before him Captain Nolan was drawing rein. “Talk of the divil —” muttered Gusty fervently, pulling the hat off his tousled head; and he launched head foremost into a lamentably recital of his woes. Captain Nolan, a bronzed giant who had, as required, faced the splutter of the enemy’s guns, himself still and silent -as a hungry spider by a new spun web, hid the smile he could not restrain, ■beneath his moustache. “Och, Captain, if your honour'd only anibushcade the. fortriss—meaning Herself without disrespect—wouldn’t the Ould Boy's hick attend you?” “Maybe it would, Gusty.” Stooping quickly, he laid a caressing hand upon the Shah’s curving neck. “God forgive me! but I was on my way to thrash you within an inch of your

life for selling her horse without eonsulfiing me, man! Get home, get along as fast as your legs will carry you and say what you please.” Captain Nolan wheeled his horse about and rode off rapidly. ‘God Mees your honour—long life to you, sir! LA nd may tlie sun never stop shining on Herself—” but he was out of earshot. hatching two red-created newts in mimic battle in the little lake at the lower end of the Castle lawn, Captain Nolan discovered Ellice McLoughlin. Her dark, beautiful eyes were swollen with recent grief, for the wrench of parting from her favourite was a sore one, and what was it but the beginning of the end? While yet her father lived she thought, she fancied she had seen a lover’s eyes seeking Iter own, but what had bereft her of a father’s care had robbed her of— A large, tender hand touched her hair. Talk of an angel and you hear the rustle of it’s wings! ‘‘Auushla nraehree,” he said softly, •‘won’t you give me your sorrows and take you my heart? I’ve warted—’Wanted to speak—to call you by the sweetest name on God’s earth, acushla machree.” Gusfty saw them together by the lake and stole by unseen. No one heard the tale he told that night, but it brought a glad shiny mist to Ellice McLoughlin’s eyes, and, for the rest, Gusty sank himself to sleep, to snore still more serenely till break of day.