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Updated: June 22, 2025
But hardly had I been left alone, with the dull pain I could find no ease for, when somebody touched me on the shoulder, and, looking up, I saw a girl in her nightdress standing beside me. It was Alma and she said: "Say, little girl, is your name O'Neill?" Trembling with nervousness I answered that it was. "Do you belong to the O'Neills of Ellan?" Still trembling I told her that I did.
If he had been born a king, he would have made his nation feared and perhaps respected throughout the world. He was born a peasant, the poorest of peasants, a crofter. The little homestead of his family, with its whitewashed walls and straw-thatched roof, still stands on the bleak ayre-lands of Ellan, like a herd of mottled cattle crouching together in a storm.
It was just as I expected, and every drop of my blood boiled at the thought of my darling's child in the hands of that frozen-hearted woman. "So that is the law, is it?" "That is the law in Ellan." "In the event of Mary O'Neill's death, and her father's death, her child and all its interests will come into the hands of. . . ." "Of her father's heir and representative."
We stayed two eternal days at Port Said while the vessel was taking coal for the rest of the voyage, and almost at the moment of sailing a letter arrived from Ellan, which, falling into O'Sullivan's hands first, sent him flying through the steamer and shouting at the top of his voice: "Commanther! Commanther!" The passengers gave room for him, and told me afterwards of his beaming face.
"Our own little affair has got to come off first, though, so I'll see the High Bailiff as soon as I return. "And what do you think, my 'chree'? The boys of the 'Scotia' are all coming over to Ellan for the great event. 'Deed, yes, though, every man-jack of them! Scientific staff included, not to speak of O'Sullivan and old Treacle who swears you blew a kiss to him.
The old Lord Raa of Castle Raa, head of the O'Neills, the same that had sworn at my grandmother, after many years in which he had lived a bad life abroad where he had contracted fatal maladies, returned to Ellan to die. More than ever now my father chewed the cud of his great disappointment.
To one of these pencillers Drake said: "What's the figure for Ellan Vannin?" "Ten to one, market price, sir." "I'll take you in hundreds," said Drake, and they struggled through the throng. Going up the stairs Glory said: "But wasn't the Archdeacon at your office this morning? We saw him coming out of the square with Mr. Golightly." "Oh, did you? How hot it is to-day!" "Isn't it?
"But dear heart alive, that won't cut much ice, will it?" said Christian Ann, catching a word of Martin's. Later in the day, being alone with the old doctor. "I wouldn't be gardener there, after the lil missie had gone . . . no, not for the Bank of Ellan and it full of goold." What a happy, happy day that was!
I joined in with the rest, but sang in English instead of Latin Of all appeals to the memory that of music is the strongest, and after a moment I forgot that I was at school in Rome, being back in my mother's room in Ellan, standing by her piano and singing while she played.
Ellan was then a primitive place, and its inhabitants, half landsmen, half seamen, were a simple pious race living in a sweet poverty which rarely descended into want. But my father had magnificent schemes for it.
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