The Empire Trilogy - J. G. Farrell [76]
“What on earth are they doing?”
“Pumping water up to the tanks on the roof. The other well by the kitchens is for drinking water, fills up from an underground spring. Lovely water...though for some reason it makes a weird cup of tea. You may have noticed, Brendan, that we sometimes get peculiar objects in the bath-water. Can’t be helped. One of the old ladies was complaining she had a dead tadpole the other day. Better than a live one, I suppose.” Without changing his tone he added: “Life has been hell these last few months.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about Ripon. I heard they were living in Rathmines.”
“Ripon is a wash-out,” Edward said bleakly. “I don’t want to hear his name mentioned again. It’s not that he took up with a Catholic girl, it’s not just that. I’m not so narrow-minded that I don’t know there are decent fellows among the Catholics in Ireland and plenty of ’em. I’d have put a stop to it if I could, of course, because mixed marriages don’t go down well in this country, with one lot or the other... Besides, I don’t want grandchildren of mine to be brought up believing all that unhealthy nonsense they teach them. All the same, if that’s what the boy had set his heart on I wouldn’t have stood in his way. He could have come to me and talked it over, man to man. He knew that. I may be an old fogey but I’m not a tyrant...” Edward paused and moodily looked at his watch. For a moment there was silence, then he said: “Come along to the lodge with me. There’s something I want to show you.”
They put on their hats and set off down the drive. The day was mild, overcast; although it had not been raining there was a smell of damp grass which the Major now always thought of as the smell of the Irish countryside.
“Ripon’s a wash-out,” Edward repeated. “I suppose everyone knew that except me. I suppose you realized it, Brendan, as soon as you set eyes on him...”
“Well, no,” murmured the Major diffidently, but Edward was not listening.
“Going behind my back and doing what he did...playing the cad with an innocent young girl (and a Catholic at that!), getting her in trouble as if she were a common housemaid, that’s something I’ll not stand for. He’s disgraced me and he’s disgraced his sisters.”
They walked on in silence. The Major could hear the dull continuous roar of the sea from somewhere behind the trees which were thickening into dense woods, matted with undergrowth and strung with brambles like trip-wires. They reached the end of the drive and the ruined lodge came into sight. Edward led the Major through some low bushes to the side of the building that faced the road. Here, high up on a part of the wall that had not been engulfed by ivy, a notice had been stuck.
“How d’you like that for cheek?”
The Major stepped forward to read it.
1. Whereas the spies and traitors known as the Royal Irish Constabulary are holding this country for the enemy, and whereas said spies and bloodhounds are conspiring with the enemy to bomb and bayonet and otherwise outrage a peaceful, law-abiding and liberty-loving people;
2. Wherefore we do hereby proclaim and suppress said spies and traitors, and do hereby solemnly warn prospective recruits that they join the R.I.C. at their own peril. All nations are agreed as to the fate of traitors. It has the sanction of God and man.
By order of the G.O.C.
Irish Republican Army
The Major had read of these posters in the newspapers but this was the first he had seen with his own eyes.
“The ruffians slip in during the night when they think they’re safe. Murphy should be here in a minute; I told him to bring along something to scrape it off with.”
“But what I don’t see,” said the Major with a smile, “is why they should think that ‘said spies and bloodhounds’ are anxious to conspire in your drive. After all, they could surely have found a more visible spot.”
“We have a few young chaps staying at the hotel at the moment,” Edward told him. “Ex-army officers brought over from England to give a hand to the R.I.C. They’re supposed to be the first