Tales and Novels, vol 4 | Page 9

was
little better than a blackamoor, and seemed crippled, but that was only
sitting so long in the chariot. "You're kindly welcome to Castle
Rackrent, my lady," says I (recollecting who she was); "did your
honour hear of the bonfires?" His honour spoke never a word, nor so
much as handed her up the steps--he looked to me no more like himself
than nothing at all; I know I took him for the skeleton of his honour: I
was not sure what to say next to one or t'other, but seeing she was a
stranger in a foreign country, I thought it but right to speak cheerful to

her, so I went back again to the bonfires. "My lady," says I, as she
crossed the hall, "there would have been fifty times as many, but for
fear of the horses, and frightening your ladyship: Jason and I forbid
them, please your honour." With that she looked at me a little
bewildered. "Will I have a fire lighted in the state-room to-night?" was
the next question I put to her, but never a word she answered, so I
concluded she could not speak a word of English, and was from foreign
parts. The short and the long of it was, I couldn't tell what to make of
her; so I left her to herself, and went straight down to the servants' hall
to learn something for certain about her. Sir Kit's own man was tired,
but the groom set him a talking at last, and we had it all out before ever
I closed my eyes that night. The bride might well be a great
fortune--she was a Jewish by all accounts, who are famous for their
great riches. I had never seen any of that tribe or nation before, and
could only gather, that she spoke a strange kind of English of her own,
that she could not abide pork or sausages, and went neither to church or
mass. Mercy upon his honour's poor soul, thought I; what will become
of him and his, and all of us, with his heretic blackamoor at the head of
the Castle Rackrent estate! I never slept a wink all night for thinking of
it: but before the servants I put my pipe in my mouth, and kept my
mind to myself; for I had a great regard for the family; and after this,
when strange gentlemen's servants came to the house, and would begin
to talk about the bride, I took care to put the best foot foremost, and
passed her for a nabob in the kitchen, which accounted for her dark
complexion and every thing.
The very morning after they came home, however, I saw plain enough
how things were between Sir Kit and my lady, though they were
walking together arm in arm after breakfast, looking at the new
building and the improvements. "Old Thady," said my master, just as
he used to do, "how do you do?" "Very well, I thank your honour's
honour," said I; but I saw he was not well pleased, and my heart was in
my mouth as I walked along after him. "Is the large room damp,
Thady?" said his honour. "Oh, damp, your honour! how should it but be
as dry as a bone," says I, "after all the fires we have kept in it day and
night? it's the barrack-room[T] your honour's talking on." "And what is
a barrack-room, pray, my dear?" were the first words I ever heard out

of my lady's lips. "No matter, my dear!" said he, and went on talking to
me, ashamed like I should witness her ignorance. To be sure, to hear
her talk one might have taken her for an innocent,[U] for it was, "what's
this, Sir Kit? and what's that, Sir Kit?" all the way we went. To be sure,
Sir Kit had enough to do to answer her. "And what do you call that, Sir
Kit?" said she, "that, that looks like a pile of black bricks, pray, Sir
Kit?" "My turf stack, my dear," said my master, and bit his lip. Where
have you lived, my lady, all your life, not to know a turf stack when
you see it? thought I, but I said nothing. Then, by-and-by, she takes out
her glass, and begins spying over the country. "And what's all that
black swamp out yonder, Sir Kit?" says she. "My bog, my dear," says
he, and went on whistling. "It's a very ugly prospect, my dear," says she.
"You don't see it, my dear," says he, "for we've planted it out, when the
trees grow up in summer time," says he. "Where are the trees," said she,
"my dear?" still looking through her glass. "You are blind, my dear,"
says he; "what are