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Valley of the Squinting Windows

[Pg 64] <h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> Myles Shannon had ever borne a passionate grudge against Mrs. Brennan. He had loved his brother Henry, and he felt that she, of all people, had had the most powerful hand in instituting the remorse which had hurried him to his doom. Mrs. Brennan, on the other hand, believed firmly that Henry Shannon would have married her, and made of her a decent woman, but for the intervention of his brother Myles. Furthermore, she believed darkly in her heart that the subtle plan of the disastrous "honeymoon" had originated in the brain of Myles, although in this she was wrong. She thought of Henry as being never of that sort. He was wild and mad, with nothing too hot or too heavy for him, but he was not one to concoct schemes. So, when Henry died, Mrs. Brennan had thought well to transmit her hatred of the Shannon family to his brother Myles. Myles Shannon lived a quiet life there in his big house among the trees upon the side of Scarden, one of the hills which overlooked the valley. In lonely, silent moments he often thought of his brother Henry and of the strange manner in which he had burned out his life. With the end of his brother before him always as a deterrent example, he did not interest himself in women. He interested himself in the business of his cattle and sheep all through each and every day of the[Pg 65] year. He did not feel the years slipping past him as he went about his easy, contented life, watching, with great interest, his beef and mutton grow up in the fields. The cattle in particular stood for the absorbing interest and the one excitement of his life. He looked upon his goings and comings to and from the markets at Dublin and at Wakefield in England as holiday excursions of great enjoyment. It was during one of his trips to England that he had met Helena Cooper at some hotel in Manchester. He was one to whom the powers of Romance had remained strangers, yet now, when they at last came into his life, it was with a force that carried away all the protection of his mind. He wanted some one to fill the loneliness of the big house on Scarden Hill, and so he set his heart upon Helena Cooper. He returned to the valley a different man. Quite suddenly he began to have a greater interest in his appearance, and it was noticed that he grew sentimental and became easy in his dealings. It began to be whispered around that, even so late in life, almost at the close of the middle period which surely marks the end of a man's prime, Myles Shannon had fallen in love and was about to be married. It was a notable rumor, and although it was fifteen years since the death of Henry Shannon, Mrs. Brennan, as one having a good reason to be interested in the affairs of the Shannon family, became excited. "Indeed it was high time for him to think of it," she said to a neighbor one Sunday morning, "before he turned into a real ould blackguard of a bachelor—and who d'ye say the girl is?" [Pg 66] "Why, then, they say she's an English lady, and that she's grand and young." Mrs. Brennan was a great one for "ferreting-out" things. Once she had set her mind upon knowing a thing, there was little possibility of preventing her. And now she was most anxious to know whom Myles Shannon was about to marry. So when she saw the old bent postmistress taking the air upon the valley road later on in the day she brought her into the sewing-room and, over a cup of tea, proceeded to satisfy her curiosity. "There must be letters?" she said after they had come round to a discussion of the rumored marriage. "Oh, yes, indeed. There's letters coming and going, coming and going," the old lady wheezed. "A nice-looking ould codger, isn't he, to be writing letters to a young girl?" "And how d'ye know she's young?" "How do I know, is it, how do I know? Well, well, isn't that my business? To know and to mind." "You're a great woman." "I do my duty, that's all, Mrs. Brennan, as sure as you're there. And d'ye imagine for a moment I was going to let Myles Shannon pass, for all he's such a great swank of a farmer? She is a young girl." "Well, well?" "There's no reason to misdoubt me in the least, for I saw her photo and it coming through the post." "A big, enlarged photo, I suppose?" "Aye, the photo of a young girl in her bloom." "I suppose she's very nice?" "She's lovely, and 'tis what I said to myself as I looked upon her face, that it would be the pity of the[Pg 67] world to see her married to a middling ould fellow like Myles Shannon." "And I suppose, now, that she has a nice name?" "Aye. It is that. And what you might call a grand name." A long pause now fell between the two women, as if both were endeavoring to form in their minds some great resolve to which their hearts were prompting them. The old postmistress delivered her next speech in a whisper: "Her name is Helena Cooper, and her address is 15 Medway Avenue, Manchester!" The two women now nudged one another in simultaneous delight. Mrs. Brennan ran the direction over and over in her mind as if suddenly fearful that some dreadful stroke of forgetfulness might come to overthrow her chance of revenge upon her false, dead lover through the great injury she now contemplated doing to his brother.... She made an excuse of going to the kitchen to put more water upon the teapot and, when she went there, scribbled the name and address upon the wall beside the fireplace. When she returned to the sewing-room the old postmistress was using her handkerchief to hide the smile of satisfaction which was dancing around her mouth. She knew what was just presently running through Mrs. Brennan's mind, and she was glad and thankful that she herself was about to be saved the trouble of writing to Miss Cooper.... Her hand was beginning to be quavery and incapable of writing a hard, vindictive letter. Besides that Mr. Shannon was an influential man in the district, and the Post Office was not above[Pg 68] suspicion. She was thankful to Mrs. Brennan now, and said the tea was nice, very nice. Yet, immediately that the information, for which she had hungered since the rumor of Myles Shannon's marriage began to go the rounds, was in her keeping, Mrs. Brennan ceased to display any unusual interest in the old, bespectacled maid. Nor did the postmistress continue to be excited by the friendly presence of Mrs. Brennan, for she, on her part, was immensely pleased and considered that the afternoon had attained to a remarkable degree of success.... From what she had read of her productions passing through the post, she knew that Mrs. Brennan was the woman who could write the strong, poisonous letter. Besides, who had a better right to be writing it—about one of the Shannon family? Soon she was going out the door and down the white road towards Garradrimna.... Now wasn't Mrs. Brennan the anxious and the prompt woman; she would be writing to Miss Cooper this very evening?... As she went she met young couples on bicycles passing to distant places through the fragrant evening. The glamor of Romance seemed to hang around them. "Now isn't that the quare way for them to be spending the Sabbath?" she said to herself as she hobbled along. The Angelus was just beginning to ring out across the waving fields with its sweet, clear sound as Mrs. Brennan regained the sewing-room after having seen her visitor to the door, but, good woman though she was, she did not stop to answer its holy summons. Her mind was driving her relentlessly towards the achievement of[Pg 69] her intention. The pen was already in her hand, and she was beginning to scratch out "a full account," as she termed it, of Mr. Myles Shannon for the benefit of Miss Helena Cooper, whoever she might be. Through page after page she continued her attack while the fire of her hate was still burning brightly through her will. It had been her immemorial custom to send full accounts abroad whenever one of the valley dwellers made attempts at assertion, but not one of the Shannons had so far offered her such a golden opportunity. For the moment she was in her glory. She announced herself as a good friend of this girl, whose name she had only heard just now. She wrote that she would not like to see Miss Cooper deceived by a man she had no opportunity of knowing in his real character, such as Mr. Shannon. Now it was a fact that Myles, unlike his brother Henry, had not been a notable antagonist of the Commandments. It was true, of course, that he was not distinguished for the purity of his ways when he went adventuring about the bye-ways of Dublin after a day at the cattle market, and people from the valley, cropping up most unexpectedly, had witnessed some of his exploits and had sent magnified stories winging afar. But he had ruined no girl, and was even admirable in his habits when at home in his lonely house among the trees. This, however, was not the Mr. Shannon that Mrs. Brennan set down in her letter to Helena Cooper. It was rather the portrait of his brother Henry, the wild libertine, that she painted, for, in the high moments of her hate, she was as one blinded by the ecstasy that[Pg 70] had come upon her. The name of Shannon held for her only one significance, and, for the moment, it was an abysmal vision which dazzled her eyes. Soon there came a communication from Miss Cooper to Mr. Shannon which had the effect of nipping his green romance while it was still young.... It asked him was this true and was that true?... The easy, sentimental way he had looked upon the matter was suddenly kindled into a deeper feeling, and he thought of having the girl now at all costs.... He wrote a fine reply in justification. It was a clear, straight piece of writing, and, although it pained him greatly, he was compelled to admit that the statements about which Miss Cooper wished to be satisfied were no more than the truth in relation to a certain member of the Shannon family. But they related to his dead brother Henry and not to him.... He prayed the forgiveness of forgetfulness for the dead.... He volunteered the production of convincing proof for every statement here made in regard to himself. But the old lady at the Post Office had something to say in the matter. She had read Miss Cooper's letter, and as she now read the letter of Mr. Shannon she knew that should it reach her this girl must be fully satisfied as to his character, for his was a fine piece of pleading.... But she could not let Mrs. Brennan have all the secret satisfaction for the destruction of his love-affair. The bitter woman in the valley had done the ugly, obvious part of the work, but she was in a position to hurry it to secret, deadly completion.... So that evening the letter, which it had given Myles Shannon such torture to write, was burned at the fire in the[Pg 71] kitchen behind the Post Office.... He wrote to Helena Cooper again and yet again, but the same thing happened.... His third letter had turned purely pathetic in its tone. The old lady said to herself that it made her laugh like anything. At last he fell to considering that her affection for him could not have been very deep seeing that she had allowed it to be so strongly influenced by some poisonous letter from an anonymous enemy.... Yet there were moments when he knew that he could never forget her nor escape, through all the years he might live, from the grand dream her first tenderness had raised up in his heart. In its immediate aspect he was a little angry that the rumor of a contemplated marriage on his part should have gone abroad. But he had almost triumphed over this slight feeling of annoyance when there came to him, some month later, the "account" that had been written about him to Miss Cooper without a word of comment enclosed.... The old lady at the office had seen to that, for the letter accompanying it as far as Garradrimna had gone the way of Mr. Shannon's letters.... This had made her laugh also with its note of wonder as to why he had made no attempt to explain.... If only he would say that the statements made against him were all mere lies. Of course she did not believe a word of them, but she wished him to say so in a letter to her.... The Post Office was saved from suspicion by this second bit of destruction, although it had done its work well. The bare, scurrilous note caused a blaze of indignation turning to hatred to take possession of his soul which had hitherto been largely distinguished by kindly[Pg 72] influences. He had his suspicions at once that it was the work of Mrs. Brennan. There was a letter of hers locked in a bureau in the parlor with other things which had been the property of his dead brother Henry. They were all sad things which related intimately to the queer life he had led. This old faded letter from Nan Byrne was the one she had written asking him for Christ's sake to marry her, now that she felt her misfortune coming upon her.... A hard look came into his eyes as he began to compare the weak handwriting. Yes, it was hers surely, beyond a shadow of doubt.... He locked this thing which had so changed the course of his life with the things of his brother. It was queer, he thought, that she, of all people, who should be prone to silence, had thought fit, after the passage of so many years, to meddle with dead things in the hope of ending other dreams which, until now, had lived brightly. He continued to brood himself into bitter determinations. He resolved that, as no other girl had come greatly into his life before the coming of Helena Cooper, no other one must enter now that she was gone. She was gone, and must the final disaster of his affections narrow down to a mere piece of sentimental renunciation? Strange, contradictory attitudes built themselves up in his mind. Out of his brooding there grew before him the structure of a plan. This woman had besmirched his brother, helping him towards the destruction of his life, for it was in this light, as a brother, he had viewed the matter always; and now, in her attempt to besmirch[Pg 73] himself, she had spoiled his dream. He had grown angry after the slow fashion which was the way of his thought, but his resolve was now sure and deliberate. There was her son! He had just gone to some kind of college in England to prepare for the priesthood, and the antecedents of a priest must be without blemish. It was not the youth's fault, but his mother was Nan Byrne, and some one must pay.... And why should she desire to bring punishment of any kind upon him for his brother's sin with her? He had loved his brother, and it was only natural to think that she loved her son. And through that love might come the desolation of her heart. To allow the blossom to brighten in her eye and then, suddenly, to wither it at a blast. To permit this John Brennan to approach the sacred portals of the priesthood and then to cause him to be cast adrift. The thought of how he might put a more delicate turn to the execution of his plan had come to him as he journeyed down from Dublin with John Brennan. He knew that his nephew, Ulick, had lived the rather reckless student life of Dublin. Just recently he had been drawing him out. But he was no weakling, and it was not possible that any of those ways might yet submerge him. However, his influence acting upon a weaker mind might have effect and produce again the degenerate that had not fully leaped to life in him. If he were brought into contact with John Brennan it might be the means of effecting, in a less direct way, the result which must be obtained. It was with this thought simmering in his brain that[Pg 74] Myles Shannon had invited John Brennan to the friendship and company of his nephew. When he had spoken of the Great War it was the condition of his own mind that had prompted the thought, for it was filled with the impulse of destruction. <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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