Cashelmara (77 page)

“And a friend of Lord de Salis too, I shouldn’t wonder,” said Phineas.

“A friend of the family, that’s for sure. Old Lord de Salis used to have an English estate in Warwickshire, and wouldn’t that have been near the town of Warwick?”

“At the very least you deserve a new trial, Max. And at the most—”

“At the most I must surely be pardoned. Phineas, I never gave the order to burn Clonagh Court and I never gave the order to shoot MacGowan. It’s all very well to accuse me of conspiracy, but there was no conspiracy. There was a movement with every man of us in one mind—to take a stand against that villain MacGowan and protect our families and homes. But they trumped up false evidence against me, MacGowan saw to that, because I’ve always been a thorn in his side and because Lord de Salis has always been against me, ever since I had a hand in banishing his first lover to Germany over twenty years ago.”

“It’s a clear-cut case, Max,” said Phineas. “An innocent man victimized by sodomites. The dear little Queen wouldn’t like it at all.”

“I wrote to the Queen,” I said bitterly, “but of course my letter will never have reached her. I wrote to Parnell too, but—”

“When was this?”

“After Home Rule was defeated at Westminster.”

“Where did you send the letter?”

“To London. To the House of Commons.”

“Hm. That may not reach him, but never mind. I know where he can be reached.” He held out the wooden box to me again. “Have another cigar.”

I knew Phineas was high up in the Clan, but I’d never guessed how high. I knew too that he had met Parnell several times during Parnell’s American visit, but he had never told me they corresponded. It was reassuring to know that the Clan could keep its secrets well when it chose.

“Parnell’s a great leader, Max,” Phineas was saying. “It’s the fashion now to be impatient with him, but if he came back to America they’d all be flocking to his side. I’ll write to him for you.”

By this time I was so excited I could hardly speak. I had dreamed of help on this scale but had never really believed such a dream could ever come true. “You … he … he’d listen to you?” I stammered. “If you wrote? About me?”

Phineas laughed. “Why, to be sure he’d listen, Max! I’ve poured a lot of my money into Ireland—didn’t you know the whole Home Rule movement has been financed by American money?—and I don’t think Charles Stewart Parnell has been ungrateful.”

“Jesus Christ,” I said weakly and gobbled down some more port to steady myself.

“He’ll listen,” Phineas was saying comfortably, “but it’ll still take time for him to act. The Queen don’t like him, as you can imagine, but Parnell has influence at Westminster and he’ll find a way to take care of your case. I’ll ask him to engage an attorney too to make sure your land’s restored to you in full as soon as you get home to Ireland.”

“But about Parnell—how can you be sure the letter reaches him? They say he never answers his letters—never even reads them.”

“He reads them if they go to the home of a lady he happens to be acquainted with. Don’t you worry about it, Max. The letter will reach Parnell, and eventually your case will be before the Queen. Ah, the dear little Queen! Such a lovely slip of a girl she was when she came to Dublin in forty-nine, so everyone says, and I’m sure I would have cheered her myself if I hadn’t been driven out of Ireland two years before by her cursed Saxon subjects, God rot them all to hell. She’s all German, you know,” he added as I bellowed the required “Amen,” “and it’s not her fault she has to be Queen of England.”

“God save her gracious majesty!” I cried. “And just think, Phineas, when she pardons me I can go back at last to my dear old home, back at last to my fields stretching down to the lough—the darling lough!—and I’ll walk again down the street of Clonareen and I’ll pray once more in the holy church …”

God, I was drunk! But so was he, for he became just as maudlin as I was. He called me his dearest friend and said there was nothing he wouldn’t do to restore me in triumph to my darling valley where I could live in peace with my lady, may the Holy Virgin and the saints protect us both.

I almost wept at his magnanimity, and we had to repeat all our vows of eternal friendship.

“How can I ever repay you?” I said, moist-eyed, in a hushed voice. “My dearest friend, how can I ever reward you for your help?”

“Well, of course I’d do it all without even the whisper of a reward,” says he, wiping a tear from his eye, “but since you ask, Max, my friend, there is one small thing you can do for me.”

“Anything,” I said. “Anything you like, Phineas, my dearest, kindest friend. Name it and it shall be yours.”

“Well, I know it’s but an idle dream, Max,” says he, wiping away another tear, “but one day I’d like nothing better than to tell those snobs who call me shoddy that I have an Irish peer for a son-in-law.”

I wasn’t so drunk that I didn’t at last understand the reason for his amazing hospitality, but I was much too drunk to be either astonished or resentful. After all, if he had turned up on my doorstep with a young baron-to-be, wouldn’t I have coveted the precious heir for one of my own four daughters? It seemed a very sensible idea to me, and I was upset only because I knew very well I had no power over Ned’s future.

“That’s a beautiful plan, Phineas!” I cried. “But Ned’s not my son. There’s no control I have—”

“You’re his guardian in all but name, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but—”

“See here, Max. Sure, match-making’s a lost art nowadays and the world’s very different now from when my parents were growing up in County Wicklow, but there is such a thing as giving two young people an opportunity. Of course we wouldn’t say anything to them, for if we did they’d be sure to run off in different directions, but if later I sent one of my girls over to Ireland to spend some time with you and Sarah and Ned, who’s to say what mightn’t happen? Sarah could teach her how to be a real lady and present her at Dublin Castle …”

I had one very sober thought: If I want my pardon I’d best vow to move heaven and earth for his daughter.

“Which daughter did you have in mind, Phineas?” I said with interest.

“Well, Connie and Donagh are too young, and although Clare’s the eldest she’s a home-loving child and too timid for a bold scheme like this one. I’d thought of Kerry. Kerry’s my favorite,” he added, his blue eyes misty with sentimentality. “She’s brave as a lion and as bold as a boy. She’d think it a fine adventure to visit you in Ireland for a while when she’s older.”

I thought: There’ll be no need for Ned to marry her. Even Phineas himself has admitted you can’t make matches to order nowadays. Sarah and I can do our best for the girl and then she can go back to America with no harm done.

“To be sure she’d have a wonderful dowry,” said Phineas. “I know a marriage settlement ties money up, but I could arrange it so you had a little money free. I was thinking you might be in a tough position, Max, when you settle down in Ireland again. After all, Sarah’s a lady, the finest lady I ever set eyes on, and she’ll have certain expectations which she’ll look to you to provide. And nothing hamstrings a man like lack of money, especially when there’s a lady at stake.”

There was a pause. At last I said, “That’s true.”

“We could say a third now,” said Phineas, “and two-thirds after the wedding.”

“And if they don’t marry?”

“You can keep the part I give you now.”

“How much?”

“Enough to take you back to Ireland in style. Enough to square your enemy MacGowan. Enough to keep you all till Sarah gets the settlement out of her husband.”

There was another pause.

“It would be a good investment for me,” said Phineas, “and a stroke of fortune for you. What do you say?”

“You’ve dealt me a hand that suits us both,” I said.

“So it’s settled. Max, you’re a fine upstanding man to do business with and no mistake, and I swear by the Holy Cross there’s no man I’d rather call my friend! I’ll have my lawyers draw up a deed so you can see I mean to stand by my word.”

“Your word’ll be good enough for me!” I protested, but I didn’t protest too much, for after all there’s no harm in having a promise in writing. I thought the deal was a good one. I’d get some money with no uncomfortable conditions attached, for I wouldn’t have to pay it back when Ned eventually told Kerry he had other fish to fry.

“Of course if you change your mind once you’re in Ireland about taking Kerry into your home,” said Phineas, “I’ll expect the money back, but don’t worry, Max, my lawyers can figure that out and put it all in the agreement. That’s what you pay lawyers for—to think of everything that could happen.”

I made up my mind to read every word of the agreement at least three times. “Indeed and it must be wonderful to have good lawyers,” I said. “You won’t forget to tell them, will you, that the whole arrangement hinges on you winning me a pardon?”

He laughed. “I’ll get you your pardon, Max!” He raised his glass. “Let’s drink to the dear little Queen who’s going to grant it to you!”

“The dear little Queen!” I cried with enthusiasm.

So there we were, two drunken Irishmen who detested all Saxons, drinking the Queen’s health as if she were a cherished relative after making plans to wed an Irish girl to a boy who had nothing but Saxon blood in his veins.

“Was there ever such a splendid race as the Irish?” I exclaimed passionately to Sarah as I reeled into bed, but I couldn’t stay awake long enough to listen to her reply.

I DIDN’T TELL SARAH
about the deal I’d made with Phineas until three weeks later when we had found a fine apartment for ourselves with a maid to cook and clean, just as I’d promised. Meanwhile, we had spent our week by the ocean at Newport, and Ned had had the time of his life racing around with those giggling girls all day long. The governess was very shocked and told Maura Gallagher it wouldn’t do to let girls run wild in the open air all day, but Maura just smiled and said it seemed to do pretty nicely, thank you, and there was no need for the governess to trouble herself about a crowd of children enjoying some sunshine.

“They’ll get very hoydenish,” said Sarah. “And freckled too.” But she made no other criticism, and all through that week she was charming to the Gallaghers and very passionate with me when we were alone.

Newport had once been an old-world fishing village, but now it was very grand and fashionable, full of white marble palaces that had been built by millionaires. Phineas didn’t have a palace, though I’m sure he could have afforded one, but his villa was just his style, as comfortable and homelike as his house on Beacon Hill. Its gardens stretched to the rocks by the water’s edge, and you could see the sea from almost every window.

I had decided I liked the sea after all. My experience on the immigrant ship had given me a distaste for it, but I soon discovered there was nothing more pleasant than taking a walk in the sea air or taking a dip in the water when it was too dark for anyone to see I’d left all my clothes by the water’s edge. Everyone made such a fuss about bathing in daytime, and I never had the patience for it, for there were all kinds of rules about what you had to wear and when you could go in without giving offense to the lady bathers. The sea was warm, far warmer than the ice-cold waters of Lough Nafooey, and I’d float around peacefully while I watched the stars and thought of Ireland.

Since Newport had proved so pleasant it was easy to feel dissatisfied when we returned to city life, but our spirits rose again when we moved into our new home. I had been dreading looking for a place, for my weekly wage could hardly afford the kind of home I wanted for Sarah and I didn’t want to end up in the North End with all the other Irish immigrants. But Phineas came to the rescue again. He owned a house in a side road off Marlborough Street, a fine well-heeled neighborhood, and he arranged for us to live there rent-free. It was one of those modern houses with a kitchen in the basement, a dumbwaiter in the pantry and room for five in-help in the attics, so we hardly knew what to do with all the space, but, as I told Sarah, it was better to have too much space than too little. So we closed off the attics, engaged a servant who came in daily and were very comfortable. I was anxious in case Sarah said she didn’t like the furnishings, but she was so pleased to have a place of her own at last that she hardly seemed to notice them.

In fact I was so relieved that she had given the house her stamp of approval that soon after we had settled down I decided to tell her about the bargain I had struck with Phineas.

“Maxwell!” exclaimed Sarah, horrified.

“Look, what choice did I have? Anyway, Ned doesn’t have to marry the girl!”

“I should think not! I mean,” said Sarah, recovering herself, “the two younger little girls are very sweet and the eldest is well mannered, but that Kerry’s such a little miss! I don’t like the thought of being saddled with her for months.”

“She’ll have improved by the time she comes, I shouldn’t wonder. Besides, if it means I’ll get my pardon—”

“Yes, of course. That’s the most important thing of all. I do understand that.”

I decided that perhaps the time wasn’t right for me to reveal the exact details of the financial arrangements, so I simply said Phineas had agreed to help pay for our return to Ireland as an extra reward for taking care of Kerry when the time came.

“He’s being very generous,” said Sarah politely, but I knew she was still nervous at the thought of me doing deals with Phineas Gallagher.

Soon after we had settled in our new home Sarah made arrangements for Ned to go to school. Phineas, who had offered to pay the fees, told her where all the snobs sent their sons, and presently the headmaster was falling over himself to welcome a pupil who had the word “honorable” before his name and a baron for a father. It had seemed best that Ned should take up his education again, for he had been moping around not knowing what to do with himself since we had left Newport. I’d certainly thought that school was a good idea, but Ned hated the prospect and got as cross as a flea-bitten mule.

“Schools are like prisons,” he said, very sullen.