The O'Ruddy: a Romance
Copyright© 2024 by Stephen Crane
Chapter 23
At supper that evening Doctor Chord amplified some of his views “A few staunch retainers could quickly aid you to scale the walls of the castle,” said he. “But I have forgotten,” he added blankly. “‘Tis not a castle. ‘Tis a house.”
“If you would take some of these ancient ideas and bury them in the garden,” said I, “they might grow in time to be some kind of turnip or other valuable food. But at the present moment they do not seem to me to serve much purpose. Supposing that the house is not a castle? What of that?”
“Castles—” said he. “Castles lend themselves—”
“Castles!” I cried. “Have done with castles! All castles may be Jews, as you say. But this is a house.”
“I remarked that it was a house,” he answered gently. “It was that point that I was making.”
“Very good,” said I. “We will now proceed to define matters. Do you know if Lady Mary walks in the garden? It is absolutely necessary that Lady Mary should walk in the garden.”
“She does,” he replied at once. “At this season of the year Lady Mary walks in the garden on every fine day at ten of the clock.”
“Then,” I cried, smiting the table, “our course is clear; I feel elate. My only regret is that my father is not here to give me a word now and then, for ‘tis a game he would know down to the ground.”
“Although I am not your father,” said Doctor Chord modestly, “I may be able to suggest some expedient way of gaining entrance to the castle.”
“House,” said I.
“House,” said he.
“However,” said I, “we must lower ourselves to extremely practical matters. Can you climb a tree?”
“A tree?” said he. “Climb a tree? Strap me!”
“‘Tis all very well to strap yourself in this fashion,” said I rather warmly; “but the climbing of trees appears here as an important matter. In my part of Ireland there are few trees, and so climbing trees did not enter into my education. However, I am willing to attempt the climbing of a tree for the sake of my true love, and if I fall—how high is this wall? Do you remember?”
“‘Twas at least ten feet,” answered the Doctor. “And there is a murderous row of spikes at the top. But,” he added, “the more spikes and all that make them the more convinced that the garden is perfectly safe from intrusion.”
“That’s a world of sense out of you,” I cried. “The spikes convince them the garden is safe from intrusion, and so they give over their watchfulness. So now in the morning we will go there, and I will climb one of the oak-trees bordering the wall—may the saints aid me!”
“You were asking if I could climb a tree,” remarked the Doctor. “I will point out to you that it is a question of no importance. It is you yourself who must climb the tree; for even if I succeeded in the arduous and painful task I could not pay your vows to Lady Mary, and for such purpose primarily the tree is to be climbed.”
“True for you, Doctor,” I answered with a sigh. “True for you. I must climb the tree. I can see that. I had some thought of making Paddy climb it, but, as you say, a man must do his own love-making, and by the same token I would break the head of any one who tried to do it for me. I would that! In this world people must climb their own trees. Now that I think of it seriously, it was ridiculous in me to plan that Paddy should climb the tree.”
“‘Second thoughts are always best,’” said the little Doctor piously. “‘Tis a phrase from one of the greatest writers of the day. And at any rate I myself, because of age and debility, would not be able to climb a tree.”
“Let us say no more of it,” said I. “I see my mistake. But tell me one thing. I know you are a man with a great deal on your mind. Can you spare the time for this adventure?”
But on this point the Doctor was very clear and emphatic. I think if I had said he could not have a place in the plot he would have died immediately of a broken heart.
“‘Tis true I have not yet finished my treatise proving that the touchstone is fallible,” he cried eagerly; “but it would give me pleasure to delay the work indefinitely if in the meantime I can be of assistance.”
“That is a man’s talk,” I said. “Well, then, in the morning we will go forth to do or die. And now a glass to success.”
That night I slept very heartily, for some of my father’s soldier training is in my veins, and on the eve of a hard or precarious work I am always able to get sound rest. My father often said that on the night before a battle in which he would stand seventy-seven chances of being killed he always slept like a dog in front of the fire.
At dawn I was up and ready. My first move was to have Paddy and Jem sent to me, and to give them such information as would lead them to an intelligent performance of their duties during the day. “Mind ye now,” said I, “here’s where the whole thing may be won or lost. There is a lovely lady inside the walls of that garden which I was showing you yesterday. She lives in the big house. She is the lady who made you feel ashamed when you took the old Earl’s—well, never mind! I hope we are all properly repentant over it. However, I had better be getting on with the matter in hand. She lives there, and if I can find no way to gain speech of her we all three of us will have to take to the thickets, and that’s the truth.”
“If I could but lay my fingers on her throttle,” said Jem Bottles in a blood-curdling voice, “she soon enough would—”
“Stop!” I cried. “You misunderstood me!”
“Aye, he does,” spoke in Paddy. “But I know what your honour is meaning. You are meaning that the young lady—aye, didn’t I see her, and didn’t she give me a look of her eye? Aye, I know what your honour is meaning.”
“You are knowing it precisely,” said I. “The young lady is more to me than three Irelands. You understand? Well, then, in the first place I must gain speech of her. To-day we march out and see what I can accomplish by climbing trees. In the meantime you two are to lay in waiting and assist me when necessary.”
“I am foreseeing that everything will be easy,” cried Paddy jubilantly.
“You are an Irishman,” I responded in anger.
“Aye,” he replied bitterly, “and another is within reach of my stick if it weren’t for my respect for my betters, although such a thing never could happen, please God!”
“No bold talk,” said I. “You may do that after.” I bade Jem Bottles load his pistols and carry them handy, but to keep them well concealed. Paddy preferred to campaign with only a stout stick. I took one pistol, and of course my sword.
These preparations deeply stirred Jem Bottles and Paddy.
“Your honour,” said Paddy, “if I see a man pulling you by the leg when you would be climbing the tree, may I hit him one lick?”
“Aye,” growled Jem Bottles, “and if I get a pistol against his head, he’ll find out the difference between gunpowder and sand.”
“Stop,” I cried. “You have the wrong idea entirely. This talk of carnage startles me and alarms me. Remember we are in London. In London even the smallest massacre arouses great excitement. There are to be no killings, and even no sound thrashings. It is all to be done with dainty gloves. Neither one of the pair of you looks fitted for the work, but I am obliged to make you serve by hook or crook. ‘Tis too late to scour the country looking for good comrades. I must put up with you, since I can get no better.”
They were well pleased at the prospect of spirited adventures, although Paddy made some complaints because there was no chance of a great ogre whom he could assail. He wished to destroy a few giants in order to prove his loyalty to the cause. However, I soothed him out of this mood, showing him where he was mistaken, and presently we were all prepared and only waited for the coming of Doctor Chord.
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