An Eye for an Eye | Page 8

wild
district the spirit of adventure which was strong within him. When
young men are anxious to indulge the spirit of adventure, they
generally do so by falling in love with young women of whom their
fathers and mothers would not approve. In these days a spirit of
adventure hardly goes further than this, unless it take a young man to a
German gambling table.
When Fred left Scroope it was understood that he was to correspond
with his aunt. The Earl would have been utterly lost had he attempted
to write a letter to his nephew without having something special to

communicate to him. But Lady Scroope was more facile with her pen,
and it was rightly thought that the heir would hardly bring himself to
look upon Scroope as his home, unless some link were maintained
between himself and the place. Lady Scroope therefore wrote once a
week,--telling everything that there was to be told of the horses, the
game, and even of the tenants. She studied her letters, endeavouring to
make them light and agreeable,--such as a young man of large
prospects would like to receive from his own mother. He was "Dearest
Fred," and in one of those earliest written she expressed a hope that
should any trouble ever fall upon him he would come to her as to his
dearest friend. Fred was not a bad correspondent, and answered about
every other letter. His replies were short, but that was a matter of
course. He was "as jolly as a sandboy," "right as a trivet;" had had "one
or two very good things," and thought that upon the whole he liked
Ennis better than Limerick. "Johnstone is such a deuced good fellow!"
Johnstone was the captain of the 20th Hussars who happened to be
stationed with him at Limerick. Lady Scroope did not quite like the
epithet, but she knew that she had to learn to hear things to which she
had hitherto not been accustomed.
This was all very well;--but Lady Scroope, having a friend in Co. Clare,
thought that she might receive tidings of the adopted one which would
be useful, and with this object she opened a correspondence with Lady
Mary Quin. Lady Mary Quin was a daughter of the Earl of Kilfenora,
and was well acquainted with all County Clare. She was almost sure to
hear of the doings of any officers stationed at Ennis, and would do so
certainly in regard to an officer that was specially introduced to her.
Fred Neville was invited to stay at Castle Quin as long as he pleased,
and actually did pass one night under its roof. But, unfortunately for
him, that spirit of adventure which he was determined to indulge led
him into the neighbourhood of Castle Quin when it was far from his
intention to interfere with the Earl or with Lady Mary, and thus led to
the following letter which Lady Scroope received about the middle of
December,--just a week before Fred's return to the Manor.
QUIN CASTLE, ENNISTIMON, 14 December, 18--.

MY DEAR LADY SCROOPE,
Since I wrote to you before, Mr. Neville has been here once, and we all
liked him very much. My father was quite taken with him. He is always
fond of the young officers, and is not the less inclined to be so of one
who is so dear and near to you. I wish he would have stayed longer, and
hope that he shall come again. We have not much to offer in the way of
amusement, but in January and February there is good snipe shooting.
I find that Mr. Neville is very fond of shooting,--so much so that before
we knew anything of him except his name we had heard that he had
been on our coast after seals and sea birds. We have very high cliffs
near here,--some people say the highest in the world, and there is one
called the Hag's Head from which men get down and shoot sea-gulls.
He has been different times in our village of Liscannor, and I think he
has a boat there or at Lahinch. I believe he has already killed ever so
many seals.
I tell you all this for a reason. I hope that it may come to nothing, but I
think that you ought to know. There is a widow lady living not very far
from Liscannor, but nearer up to the cliffs. Her cottage is on papa's
property, but I think she holds it from somebody else. I don't like to say
anything to papa about it. Her name is Mrs. O'Hara, and she has a
daughter.
When Lady Scroope had read so far, she almost let the paper drop from
her hand. Of course she knew what it all meant. An