"But you are a hunting man, you say," said old Sir P- C-; "and in
that case you will soon know Tom O'Conor. Tom won't let you be dull.
I'd write you a letter to Tom, only he'll certainly make you out
without my taking the trouble."
I did think at the time that the old baronet might have written the
letter for me, as he had been a friend of my father's in former days;
but he did not, and I started for Ballyglass with no other
introduction to any one in the county than that contained in Sir P-'s
promise that I should soon know Mr. Thomas O'Conor.
I had already provided myself with a horse, groom, saddle and bridle,
and these I sent down, en avant, that the Ballyglassians might know
that I was somebody. Perhaps, before I arrived Tom O'Conor might
learn that a hunting man was coming into the neighbourhood, and I
might find at the inn a polite note intimating that a bed was at my
service at Castle Conor. I had heard so much of the free hospitality
of the Irish gentry as to imagine that such a thing might be
possible.
But I found nothing of the kind. Hunting gentlemen in those days
were very common in county Mayo, and one horse was no great evidence
of a man's standing in the world. Men there as I learnt afterwards,
are sought for themselves quite as much as they are elsewhere; and
though my groom's top-boots were neat, and my horse a very tidy
animal, my entry into Ballyglass created no sensation whatever.
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