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diff --git a/16010-0.txt b/16010-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9c6605b --- /dev/null +++ b/16010-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12633 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tithe-Proctor, by William Carleton + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Tithe-Proctor + The Works of William Carleton, Volume Two + +Author: William Carleton + +Illustrator: M. L. Flanery + +Release Date: June 7, 2005 [EBook #16010] +Last Updated: March 2, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TITHE-PROCTOR *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +THE TITHE-PROCTOR. + +By William Carleton + + + + +PREFACE. + + +After the reader shall, have perused the annexed startling and +extraordinary narrative, on which I have founded the tale of the +Tithe-Proctor, I am sure he will admit that there is very little left +me to say in the shape of a preface. It is indeed rarely, that ever a +document, at once so authentic and powerful, has been found prefixed +to any work of modern Irish Fiction--proceeding as it does, let me add, +from the pen of a gentleman whose unassuming character and modesty are +only surpassed by the distinction which his name has already gained +in one of the most difficult but useful departments of our native +literature. + +I trust that there will be found nothing in the work which follows that +is calculated to give any serious offence. Yet, when we look back upon +the contentions, both political and polemical, by which this unhappy +country in connection with tithe especially, has been so frequently and +so bitterly distracted, we can hardly hope, that any writer, however +anxious, nay studious, to avoid giving offence, can expect to treat such +a subject without incurring animosity in _some_ quarter. Be this as it +may, I have only to say, on behalf of myself, that in composing the +work I was influenced by nothing but a firm and honest determination to +depict the disturbances arising from the tithe impost with a fair and +impartial hand: and if any party shall feel hurt by observations which +the necessity of rendering full justice to a subject so difficult +have imposed upon me in the discharge of a public duty, I beg them +to consider that such observations proceeded from no wish to offend +existing prejudices, but are to be looked upon as arising inferentially +from those stern and uncompromising claims of truth and justice, which +equally disregard the prejudices of any and every party. After all, I am +of opinion that the spirit in which the work is written will be found, +whilst it correctly delineates the state and condition of the country +during the fearful tumults and massacres of the Tithe Rebellion, to have +left little, if anything, to be complained of in this respect. + +In constructing narratives of this sort, it is to be understood that +certain allowances are always made for small anachronisms that cannot be +readily got over. The murder of the Bolands, for instance, occurred in +the year 1808, and the massacre of Carrickshock, as it has been called, +in 1832. It was consequently impossible for me to have availed myself of +the annexed “Narrative” and brought in the “Massacre” in the same story, +without bringing down the murder of the Bolands to a more recent date. + +It may be objected that I have assumed, as the period of my story, one +which was calculated to bring into light and action the worst feelings +and the darkest criminals of my country. This, however, was not my +fault. If they had not existed, I could not have painted them; and so +long as my country is disgraced by great crimes, and her social state +disorganized by men whoso hardened vices bring shame upon civilization +itself, so long, I add, these crimes and such criminals shall never be +veiled over by me. I endeavor to paint Ireland, sometimes as she was, +but always as she is, in order that she may see many of those debasing +circumstances which prevent her from being what she ought to be. In the +meantime, I trust the reader will have an opportunity of perceiving +that I have not in the _Tithe-Proctor_, any more than in my other work, +forgotten to show him that even in the most startling phases of +Irish crime and tumult, I have by no means neglected to draw the warm, +generous, and natural virtues of my countrymen, and to satisfy him that +a very few guilty wretches are quite sufficient, however unjustly, to +blacken and degrade a large district. + +There is, however, a certain class of pseudo-patriots in this country, +who are of opinion that every writer, professing to depict our national +character and manners, should make it a point of conscience to suppress +all that is calculated “to lessen us in the eyes of the world,” as they +are pleased to term it, and only to give to the public the bright and +favorable side. It is unnecessary to dwell upon the moral dishonesty +and meanness of a principle, at once so disgraceful to literature and so +repugnant to truth. These thin-skinned gentlemen are of opinion that the +crime itself is a matter of trivial importance compared to the fact of +its becoming known, and that provided the outside of the platter is kept +clean, it matters not how filthy it may be within. + +In the days of my boyhood and early life, the people of Ireland were, +generally speaking, an honest, candid, faithful, and grateful people, +who loved truth, and felt the practical influence of religious feeling +strongly, but so dishonest and degrading has been the long curse of +agitation, to which forms of it their moral and social principles have +been exposed, that there probably could not be found in any country, +an instance in which the virtues of the whole people have been so +completely debauched and contaminated (I do not say voluntarily), as +those of the Irish have been by the leading advocates of repeal. The +degeneracy of character, occasioned by those tampering with our national +virtues, is such as we shall not recover from these thirty years to +come. Many of our best, mellow-toned, old virtues, that pass in an +unbroken link of hereditary beauty from father to son, and from family +to family, like some sacred and inestimable heirloom, at once reverenced +and loved, are all gone--such as our love of truth, our simple devotion +and patriarchal piety, our sincerity in all social intercourse, and +others of the same stamp; whilst little else is left us but a barren +catalogue of broken and dishonest promises, and the consciousness of +having been at once fleeced and laughed at. And it would be well if we +could stop here, but truth forces us onward. The Irishman of the present +day--the creature of agitation--is neither honest, nor candid, nor +manly, nor generous, but a poor, skulking dupe, at once slavish +and insolent, offensive and cowardly--who carries, as a necessary +consequence, the principles of political dishonesty into the practices +of private life, and is consequently disingenuous and fraudulent. + +Let me not be misunderstood. I love truth; and have never been either +afraid or ashamed to speak it; and I trust I never shall. I now allude +to the principles of Conciliation Hall, and the system by which they +were led. I feel bound, however, to exempt the party called Young +Irelanders from having had any participation in bringing about results +so disastrous to the best moral interests of the country. It is true, +that, as politicians, they were insane; but then they were at least +sincere and honest; and I am satisfied that there is not a man of them, +who would not have abandoned the object he had in view, sooner than +accomplish it by sacrificing the popular virtues and moral character +of the country for its attainment. I have myself been a, strong +anti-repealer during my whole life, and though some of the Young +Irelanders are my personal friends, yet none know better than they +do, that I was strenuously opposed to their principles, and have often +endeavored--need I say unsuccessfully?--to dissuade them from the +madness of their agitation. + +Having made these few necessary observations, I now beg to introduce to +my readers the extraordinary narrative already spoken of--a narrative +whose force and graphic power will serve only to bring shame upon the +feeble superstructure which I have endeavored to erect upon it. It is +termed-- + + +THE MURDER OF THE BOLANDS. + +In the year 1808, there lived near Croom, in the county of Limerick, a +farmer named Michael Boland. He was an intelligent and prosperous +man, and the owner of many hundred acres of the best land in that fine +county. + +He had two sons and two daughters, all grown up to manhood and +womanhood, in this year, and the parish chapel never saw, in their time, +a finer family for stature, symmetry, and comeliness, attend its mass +than Michael Boland, his wife, and children. With the growth of his +family, his ambition and desire of increased wealthiness grew; and, +by the agency of some hundred pounds, he became the tithe-proctor, or +rector of several patches of tithes throughout the county. + +At first he was successful in this speculation, and with his increased +profits, himself and his children assumed a higher and more important +tone and bearing in society. In fact, his sons and daughters passed as +ladies and gentlemen, not only in external appearance, but in elegance +of manners and cultivation of mind; for he spared no expense on their +education, as well in his original as in his subsequent condition of +life; besides that at this period, and for a long time previous, the +County of Limerick was the great school-house, not only of Munster, but +of all Ireland--vide Carleton's “Poor Scholar.” + +The sudden departure of the Bolands from the intercourse and intimate +acquaintance of their former companions and neighbors, as well as the +long brooding hatred and opposition of the people to the payment of +tithes, soon gave rise to loud murmurs and sarcastic retrospective +observations against them; and people far and near took every occasion +to offend and insult them--both men and women---wherever and whenever +an opportunity of doing so, in a galling manner, offered. Often were +the Misses Boland asked, when mounted on their side-saddles, did they +remember when their mother used to be driving her cart-load of tankards +of sour milk to the market of Limerick, and sitting there for days +retailing it at a penny a gallon, &c.; and as often were the young +brothers asked when bursting over an old neighbor's fence, in scarlet +and buckskin, if they remembered when their father and mother bore an +active hand and shoulder to the carving out and spreading of the manure +to the fields, &c. + +Far from being abashed at all this, the Bolands only sought ampler +opportunities to annoy and exasperate their ill-wishers by more +imperious airs to them, and a closer attendance to the gentlemanly +sports of the country, but still they gave no tangible cause to quarrel +broadly with them. While matters were going on in this way, they +received a nocturnal anonymous letter, ordering them to send a few of +their abundant stock of arms to a certain lonely place, for the benefit, +of the popular legislators of that turbulent county. This summons the +Bolands answered by a letter of defiance, and a challenge to the parties +to come and take them forcibly if they durst. They were agan summoned +for their arms, and cautioned to lower their demand for tithes. To this +they sent an exasperating response of defiance, and a challenge, after +which they seriously went about fortifying their dwelling, and putting +it into the best posture of defence against the assault which they were +very certain would be made on them sooner or later. + +They built a line of lofty strong stone walls around their house, +offices, and other property, and, thus secure, they awaited anxiously +the expected visit of their deadly enemies. + +In the meantime the messengers of vengeance passed through all the +counties of Munster, with an account of the rebellious designs of the +Bolands, against the majesty of midnight legislation; and to collect +levies of men, ammunition, army, and friends, for the purpose of making +a certain destructive attack upon them. + +One evening, about the latter end of November, the roads and paths +leading to the little village of Kilteely, a few miles to the east of +Boland's house, was observed to be more than usually thronged with men, +on foot and on horseback, passing, as it were, to and from Limerick, and +strangers, apparently, to all the inhabitants and to each other. Shortly +after nightfall, the hill of Kilteely was seen covered with men and +horses, and within an old ruined house on the top of the hill a +dim light was seen to occasionally flitter. This ruin was full of +respectably dressed men, and at one end of it, on chairs, and at a +table, provided for the occasion, sat twelve of the most respectable of +them, and a portly important-looking gentleman on an elevated chair at +the end of the table. Two or three candies were burning, and some slips +of paper were on the table. + +After a silence of a few seconds, the judge asked, in an audible voice, +if there was any business to be brought before the court on that night? +He was immediately answered in a solemn tone, by more than one voice, +that there was a great deal of business, but that only one case, that +of Captain Right against Boland, should be brought before him at +that present time. The judge then desired that the case be gone into. +Whereupon a middle-sized well-set young man, about six-and-twenty years +of age, whose name we know, and who sat behind the judge, now brought +his chair forward to the table, on the judge's left hand, and unrolling +a roll of paper, read in a low, solemn, but audible tone of voice, a +series of charges preferred by the said Captain Right against the said +Michael Boland and his sons. + +The captain was then called up, and he deposed to different charges +against the defendants--such as taking beforehand, or in reversion, +several small farms over the heads of poor but solvent tenants, turning +them adrift on the world, and converting their small agricultural farms +into one or more large farms for grazing; thereby adding to the +number of the destitute, and contracting the supply of agricultural +produce--the payment to his laboring men of only eight-pence a day, +which he compounded for in kind--potatoes, milk, &c, at twice, at least, +what those commodities fetched him in the neighboring markets. These +were only a few of the many charges of petty tyranny preferred against +Boland; but the last and greatest of all was his Tithe Exactions. + +Several witnesses were called up to prove these weighty offences, after +which it was asked if the accused party had been served with notices to +desist from those high misdemeanors; and if he had engaged any one to +speak for him, or in his favor. After a short pause, a man above the +middle size, with snaggy hair and beard, and of a sinister aspect, came +up to the table and said, that although he had not been employed or +deputed to appear for Mr. Boland and the young masters and misses, his +fine sons and daughters, yet justice to the accused compelled him to +come forward, and offer a few words in extenuation of the punishment, +if any, which should be inflicted for their alleged misdeeds. “First, +then,” he asked, “was it possible that they, the men then present, +should be angry or offended at seeing one of their own race and religion +spring up from among them, and take his station with the best of the +Cromwellian Shoneens that surrounded and oppressed them? And when he did +so spring up, was it any blame to him to avail himself of every means +which The Law allowed him to maintain his elevation, though it might be +by standing on the shoulders and necks of as good fellows as himself? +What had Mr. Boland done but what others had been doing for ages, and +were doing still? As for the matter of tithes, sure they should be paid +to the minister who they never saw nor cared to see, and if Mr. Boland +had profit on them, so much the better, because the less tithe that went +into the absent minister's pocket the more would they all be pleased. To +be sure the tithe-proctor always exacted to the last farthing, and more +than the minister--and it is believed that Mr. Boland was not behind any +of the trade--and some people say, indeed, that, from his knowledge of +farming and the ins and outs of people's little tillage, he sometimes +exacted to within a trifle of one-fifth of the produce. Indeed, in my +own case--and I am but a poor brogue-maker, with half-a-dozen acres of +the |poorest lands of F------, he took from me, between citations to +the Bishop's Court and other costs, with the original tithes, at least +one-fourth of the entire produce of my little farm; nor do I know any +one in the parish that fares better than myself, especially the poor +people who don't understand the law, and who are not able, or willing, +to get into it. However, I confess, I never regretted my own share of +the loss, where I knew and thought that it all went to the glory and +grandeur of the Masters and Misses Boland. Nor shall I ever forget the +cutting-up which young Mick Boland gave me, with the butt-end of his +loaded whip, the day I went to their house to complain that their driver +had put all my sheep into the pound, for a debt of sixteen shillings, +tithe-money. And now, my Lord Justice, as I have said so much of the +truth in favor of Mr. Boland and his family, I hope your lordship will +pass a merciful and just sentence oh them, and that this just jury won't +find these friends to us, to our religion, and to our country, guilty.” + +There was a suppressed murmur of approbation, accompanied by an audible +stamping of feet, at the conclusion of this merciful harangue. But +silence being called, the jurors put their heads together across +the table, and in less than two minutes their foreman handed up the +issue-paper to the secretary, who sat by the side of the judge on +receipt of which that functionary arose and in a solemn, scarcely +audible voice, read from the paper a verdict of “guilty” against Michael +Boland and his two sons. The judge then immediately arose from his +chair, and in a low, solemn, but firm and distinct tone of voice, +pronounced the verdict of the court to be, “Death and Dark Destruction +to Michael Boland and his two sons,” and that the sentence should be +executed that very night. On the announcement of the verdict a low +shriek of exultation arose from the audience, followed by a simultaneous +half-suppressed cry of, “Long life to our Judge! Long life to Buck +English!” + +The judge stood up again and said: “Now, boys, I know that there is no +man here present but a man who has been often well tried in exploits of +danger and of death: every man of you is the leader of a party of brave +fellows, who, with yourselves, have sworn to sustain the oppressed; +crush the tyrant, and right the wronged. Your men are brave, bold, and +hearty; keep them to: their duty, and in perfect submission to your +orders. Let the old tyrant and his young cubs be cut off, at all +hazards, but spare the women--nay, make every possible exertion to save +them, but, more especially, and by all means, let the eldest daughter, +Miss Anna, be saved, secured, and brought to me, as you all know how +long I have vainly endeavored to make her mine. And now, boys, every man +to his post, and I, your commander, shall lead you on.” + +Buck English is a real character--his real name was Ryan, and he +had been respectably reared, but gave himself up to the intoxicating +excitement of the French Revolution--he also fought in '98, and +subsequently, for his intelligence and daring spirit, became the leader +of all the lawless and disaffected parties in his native County of +Limerick, and, indeed, of all Munster. + +The parties within the old ruin now made their appearance on the hill, +and every man of them going to the head of his own body, they marched +first to Hospital, a contiguous village, where they boldly beat a drum, +the sound of which called up, as by enchantment, such a concourse of +armed men as frightened the parties themselves. They marched from that, +westwards, to Knockany, where they dug up several extensive fields +(of grass) belonging to Mr. O'Grady. They marched on then, in the +same direction, towards the residence of the Bolands, their numbers +increasing as they went along, by voluntary and involuntary parties. + +The Bolands, ever on the watch, soon learned that they were to be +visited that night by those parties whom they had so long defied, but +they never calculated that they Should be attacked by such a strong +force as they now learned was approaching them--for it is believed +that the actual number could not have been less than five thousand men, +contributed by the Counties of Limerick Clare, Kerry, Cork, Waterford, +Tipperary, and Kilkenny. + +However, they were not daunted, but immediately put themselves in order +of battle. They first sent out (off their premises) all their servants, +men and women, lest there should be a spy or a traitor among them. They +then carried up all their arms and ammunition to the top floor of their +(two-story, long, thatched) house. The father and the younger sons +planted themselves at one of the window's facing the front. The elder +son and the family tutor, a young man of the neighborhood, who would +not abandon them in their hour of danger, took their stand at the +window which looked directly at the narrow strong door of the wall which +inclosed the house. The two daughters, with their mother, took up their +places between the two windows, under cover of the wall, and having been +well practiced for som, weeks previous, stood prepared to load and hand +up the arms to their heroes when the occasion should arrive. About the +hour of one o'clock in the morning, the barking of dogs, and an odd +random shot, gave the Bolands certain and unmistakable notice that their +hour of terror was at hand. And soon they could hear a monotonous sound +of moving feet and suppressed voices, under the outer walls of their +fortress. A horn was then sounded, and the besieged were called upon to +open their gates and surrender at discretion. But no answer was received +from within, where all was total darkness and apparent inactivity. +Several attempts were now made to burst the strong yard door, but +without effect. The assailants then began to fire at the thatch of +the dwelling house, as well as on the out-offices, with the intent of +setting them in flames; and after several attempts, they ultimately +succeeded in igniting the thatch of a detached cow-house, which stood +out from the other buildings, and the wind, unfortunately happening to +blow from that quarter to the other offices, carried the fire to them, +by which they were soon in a blaze. In the meantime, they procured two +sledges from a neighboring forge, with which they assaulted the yard +door, which they soon broke in. Now there was a dead pause on the +part of the assailants--for they knew very well, that to pass on the +threshold of this door was certain death. However, the pressure from the +rear was so great, that suddenly several men were involuntarily pushed +in through the doorway. And now the work of death commenced, for no +sooner had the first batch been pressed in, than there was such +a well-directed shower of bullets poured out on them from four +well-charged blunderbusses, as levelled every man of them with the +earth. A moment's pause ensued, and the door was again filled with new +aspirants for “fame in the cannon's mouth,” who, however, fared as badly +as the preceding batch. During this time the assailing party had been +busy with crowbars and other instruments, in making several breaches in +the yard walls. At length they succeeded in opening entrances in three +different places at the same time, and thus in a few minutes several +hundred men were precipitated into the yard. And now commenced the work +of death in earnest. The assailants were shot down in scores, while the +upper windows of the house, from which the deadly firing was so ably +kept up, received fifty discharges to the one that issued from them. The +house was immediately surrounded, and guards of chosen faithful men were +placed at its doors and lower windows, with strict orders to let no one, +especially the “old fox,” escape, with the exception only of the women. + +To add to the dreadful condition of the Bolands, the assailants had +now succeeded in igniting the thatch of the dwelling-house, and it was +immediately in a blaze. The Bolands and their tutor, ably served by +their mother and sisters, still continued to deal death and destruction +on the parties outside, without being yet fatigued or disabled. But at +length the upper floor became too hot, and the old man, with his wife +and daughters, retreated to the lower floor. The brothers and the tutor, +however, remained above, but doing less execution, because, when the +assailants saw the house on fire, they retreated outside the yard wall, +excepting the guard who were placed round the house, and these stood so +close to the walls that the party above had not power of injuring them, +without fully exposing their own persons at the windows. + +While both parties were thus in a fearful state of suspense, the burning +roof of the house fell in on the three young men above, and immediately +buried them for ever in its destructive flames. The assailing crowds set +up a terrific shout of triumph. The floor above now began to crackle, +and so dense was the smoke below, that the old man and the woman were +in a state little short of suffocation. At last the Proctor became +desperate, and opening one of the ground windows, and taking his poor +wife by the hand, he attempted to throw himself and her out through it. +No sooner, however, had they appeared at the window, than the old man +was riddled with bullets from without, and thrown back into the now +blazing room from which he had been endeavoring to escape. + +The three young men and the old man being now destroyed, a voice in the +rear of the crowd called out, in a fierce commanding them, to rescue +the women at all hazards, whereupon the sledges were applied to the +front door of the house; but while they were thus engaged, the young +women unbarred the back door, and rushing out with their mother, +uttering the most piercing shrieks, they ran into a stable which +was near, before they could be laid hold of. Here, however, the two +daughters were immediately seized on by order of the commander of the +siege, Buck English, and carried out, but not violently, until they came +to the stable-door, where the eldest daughter laid hold of the iron bolt +staple of the door-post, and so desperately did she hold it, that she +did not let it go till her shoulder was dislocated. They were both +carried off then to the Galtee mountains, the usual resort of the Buck, +who retained the eldest during pleasure. I forget what became of the +younger girl, but the other became deranged, and in that melancholy +state was subsequently taken into the “protection,” as it is called, of +a certain banker of Limerick, who shot himself in that city, to my own +knowledge, in 1815. * * * + +The scene at the residence of the Bolands, on the morning after the +attack, was truly horrifying. The remains of the four men, almost +burned to cinders, were dug out of the still burning ruins, nor was the +spectacle in the yard and on the neighboring road less frightful; from +the multitude of dead bodies with which they were strewn; for most of +their stranger assailants who were killed were left on the spot--the +party not choosing to be seen carrying them off by daylight. But such +of the people of the neighboring parishes as fell, were carried off by +friends and acquaintances, and hid during that day, but buried at night +at remote distances from their houses, in the newly-ploughed and in the +wheat-sown fields. The inquest, &c, being over, the government and the +gentry of the county offered a large reward for any information that +would lead to the apprehension or knowledge of the actors, especially +the commander, in this fearful tragedy. A strong military force was +stationed in the neighborhood, and all the bad and suspicious characters +of the district were taken up, and committed to gaol on suspicion. +However, the original concocters of the murder made their escape, either +to England or to the remote parts of Clare, Kerry, and Cork; whilst +terror reigned throughout the whole County of Limerick among the farmers +at seeing the numbers that were arrested, and the largeness of the +reward. + +One morning, as a well-known active magistrate of the county was sitting +at his breakfast, a strange woman came to his door, and requested to +see him on business of importance. He immediately called up two of his +servant men, and ordered them to go to the door and see that the woman +was really a woman, and that she had no arms about her. This was +soon done, and the woman, a real one, was ushered into his worship's +presence. She then told him--the room being first cleared of all other +people--that, she was the wife of D---- A------, the brogue-maker of +F----, that her husband was an honest, industrious man, who knew his own +trade and business well, and who knew a great deal about the business of +other people, too, and of what was going on in the country--that he was +a man of upright and Christian principles, who would always feel it a +conscientious duty to aid the laws of his country to preserve social +order and punish crime--that he was not a man to be terrified or bribed +by any amount of punishment or reward; but that if he were properly +managed and kindly treated, he might be found able to give a good deal +of useful information. + +His worship had the good-natured poor woman taken good care of for +that day--and at a late hour of the same night he took and put her +comfortably sitting on a horse, behind one of his constables, and, +surrounded by a strong military body, horse and foot, marched her in +safety; she showing the way to her own house. They found honest Darby +sitting by his fire, reading his prayer-book, and in great grief at the +unaccountable absence of his wife. He was dreadfully agitated when he +found himself arrested, and strongly protested that he was an honest, +industrious tradesman, who knew nothing of the wickedness of the world; +and wondered much what this was all about. + +His worship advised him to be calm--that all should be well, but that +he should accompany himself to his house. After Darby had spent several +usefully employed days with his new friend, he was transmitted to +Limerick gaol, with orders that he should be well treated, and be +allowed to see his wife as often as she desired it. The wife soon found +that it would be more convenient for her, and perhaps somewhat safer, +to be living near her husband, and therefore went to reside in Limerick. +The news of Darby's arrest caused no little alarm through the county, +and it was soon whispered about that persons were now arrested, of whose +participation in the Boland affair no human being could give any hint +except himself alone. His wife's rooms became crowded every day with +the wives, daughters, and sisters of the men arrested,--and others not +arrested, or suspected by any living being; money in hundreds of pounds +was poured into her lap to purchase the ignorance, the silence, or the +perjury of Darby--and every one went away apparently satisfied with +Darby's promises through his faithful wife. + +The assizes came down at last. Darby lost all recollection of any money +but the large public reward, and on that occasion over twenty men were +hanged chiefly on his evidence--though it was very difficult for the +crown counsel to bring the poor reluctant man to the point; but when +he did make a convicting admission, he took care that it should be +a clincher, wrung from him, as he wished it to appear, by a cunning +counsel. The gallows at Limerick continued for years after to be fed by +Darby with victims for this crime; and several hundred were transported, +or went into voluntary banishment on account of this fearful butchery. +The writer of this knew well, and was at school with the secretary of +the Court of Kilteely Hill. + + + + +CHAPTER I.--The Chapel Green of Esker Dearg. + + +The chapel of _Esker Dearg_, or the Red Ridge, was situated in a rich +and well-cultivated country, that for miles about it literally teemed +with abundance. The Red Ridge under which it stood was one of those long +eminences, almost, if not altogether, peculiar to Ireland. It was, as +the name betokens, a prolonged elevation that ran for nearly a mile and +a half in a north-eastern direction without appearing to yield to, or +be influenced by, the natural position or undulations of the country +through which it went. The epithet of red which was attached to it, +originated, according to popular tradition, in a massacre which had +taken place upon it during one of the Elizabethan wars, others imputed +it to a cause much more obvious and natural, viz., its peculiar +appearance during all seasons of the year, owing to the parched and +barren nature of the soil, which, in consequence of its dry and elevated +Position, was covered only with furze and tern, or thin, short grass +that was parched by the sun into a kind of red-brown color. + +Under that end of this Esker which pointed nearest to the south-west, +stood the chapel we have just mentioned. It was a rather long building +with double gables and a double roof, perfectly plain, and with no other +ornament, either inside or out, if we except a marble cross that stood +against the wall upon the altar, of which the good priest was not a +little vain, inasmuch as it had been of his own procuring. A public road +of course ran past it, or rather skirted the green unenclosed space, by +which, in common with most country edifices, it was surrounded. Another +road joined that which we have mentioned, within a few perches of it, +so that it stood at what might be nearly considered a cross-road. One +or two large trees grew beside it, which gave to its otherwise simple +appearance something of picturesque effect, especially during the +summer months, when they were thickly covered with leaves, and waved and +rustled in the sun to the refreshing breezes of that delightful season. + +It was Sunday in the early part of March--we will not name the +year--when our story commences. The Red Ridge Chapel was as usual +surrounded by the greater portion of the congregation that had assembled +to hear Mass. Within its walls there were only a few classes of +youngsters, male and female, formed into circles, learning their +catechism from the schoolmaster of the neighborhood, the clerk, or some +devotee who possessed education enough to qualify himself for that +kind office. Here and there in different parts of the chapel were +small groups of adult persons, more religiously disposed than the rest, +engaged in saying the rosary, whilst several others were performing +solitary devotions, some stationary in a corner of the chapel, and +others going the circuit around its walls in the performance of the +Fourteen Stations of the Cross. Now, all these religious and devotional +acts take place previous to the arrival of the priest, and are suspended +the moment he commences Mass; into the more sublime majesty of which +they appear, as it were, to lose themselves and be absorbed. + +The great body of the congregation, however, until the clergyman makes +his appearance, are to be found outside, on what is called the Chapel +Green. Here they stand in groups, engaged in discussing the topics of +the day, or such local intelligence as may interest them; and it is +to one of those groups that we now beg to call the attention of our +readers. + +Under the larger of the two trees we have described stood a circle +of the country people, listening to, and evidently amused by, the +conversation of an individual whose bearing and appearance we must +describe at great length. + +He was a person whom at first sight you would feel disposed to class +with young men. In other words, you might be led, from the lively flow +of his spirits and his peculiarly buoyant manner, to infer that he +had not gone beyond thirty or thirty-five. Upon a closer inspection, +however, you could easily perceive that his countenance, despite of +its healthy hue, was a good deal wrecked and weatherbeaten, and gave +indications of those traces, which not only a much longer period of +time, but deep and violent passions, seldom fail to leave behind them. +His features were regular, and at first glance seemed handsome, but upon +a nearer approach you were certain to find that their expression was +heartless and disagreeable. They betokened no symptom of humanity of +feeling, but were lit up with a spirit of harsh and reckless levity, +which, whilst it made him popular with the unthinking multitude, might +have been easily understood as the accompaniment, if not the direct +exponent, of a bad and remorseless heart. The expression of his mouth +was at the same time both hard and wanton, and his eyes, though full +of a lively lustre, resembled in their brightness those of a serpent or +hyena. His forehead was constructive but low, and, we may say, rather +unintellectual than otherwise. He was without whiskers, a circumstance +which caused a wound on the back part of his jaw to be visible, and +one-half of the left-hand little finger had been shot off in defence of +his church and country, according to his own account. This was a subject +however, upon which he always affected a good deal of mystery when +conversing with the people, or we should say, he took care to throw out +such oracular insinuations of what he had suffered in their defence, as, +according to their opinion, almost constituted him a martyr. In size +he was somewhat above the middle height, compact, and exceedingly well +built. His chest was deep and his shoulders powerful, whilst his limbs +were full of muscular strength and great activity. + +Having thus given a portrait of his person, it only remains that we +describe his costume as he appeared on the Sunday in question, and we +do so because it may be right to inform our readers, in the outset, +that one of his peculiarities was a habit of seldom appearing, for any +lengthened period, in the same dress, or indeed in the same locality. + +On this occasion he had on a pair of tight buckskin breeches, top-boots +and spurs--for he mostly went on horseback--a blue body-coat, with +bright gilt buttons, a buff cassimere waistcoat, and a very fashionable +hat. + +The cravat he wore was of green silk, and was tied in a knot, which +might be understood by the initiated as one that entitled him to their +confidence and respect. Our readers may not be surprised at this, for, +unfortunately so high and bitter have party prejudices and feelings in +our disturbed country run, that the very dress has been often forced to +become symbolic of their spirit and existence. + +The chapel green, as we have said, was covered by the great bulk of the +peasantry who were waiting the arrival of the priest. Here was a circle +in which stood some rustic politician, who, having had an opportunity +of getting a glimpse at some newspaper of the day, was retailing its +contents to a greedy circle of listeners about him. There again stood +some well-known storyteller, or perhaps a live old senachie, reciting +wild and stirring legends to his particular circle. Some were stretched +indolently on the grass, or lying about the ditches in the adjoining +fields, but by far the greatest and most anxious crowd was assembled +under the tree against which Buck English--for by this name was he +known--leaned. We should say here, however, that he was not called +Buck English, because his name was English, but in consequence of +his attempts at pronouncing the English tongue in such a manner as +he himself considered peculiarly elegant and fashionable. The man's +education was very limited, indeed he had scarcely received any, but he +was gifted at the same time with a low vulgar fluency of language which +he looked upon as a great intellectual gift, and which, in his opinion, +wanted nothing but “tip-top prononsensation,” as he termed it, to make +it high-flown and gentlemanly. + +Our friend “the Buck,” as he was universally called, was no sooner +perceived in his usual station under the tree than there was a rapid +gathering of the assembled crowd to hear him. + +“Hallo, Paddy! what's the matther? where are you goin' to in sich a hell +of a hurry?” + +“Blood alive! man, sure Buck English is at his post to-day.” + +“How at his post?” + +“Why under the three where he always is when he comes here af a Sunday.” + +“Hut! sure I know that; come, begad, let us hear him.” + +“Faith, it's he that's up to the outs and ins of everything. Sure the +Counsellor himself made mintion of him in a great speech some time +ago. It seems the Buck sent him up five pounds in a letther, and the +Counsellor read the letther, and said it came from a most respectable +gentleman, a friend of his, one Barney--no, not Barney--it wasn't Barney +he called him, but--but--let me see--ay, begad--Bir--Birnard--ay, one +Birnard English, Esquire, from the Barony of Treena Heela; bekaise, as +the Buck doesn't keep himself very closely to any particular place of +livin', he dated his letther, I suppose, from the Barony at large.” + +“At any rate one thing's clear, that he's high up wid the Counsellor, +an' if he wasn't one man in ten thousand he wouldn't be that.” + +They had now reached the tree, and found that, short as the time was, a +considerable crowd had already assembled about him, so that they were +obliged to stand pretty far out in the circle. One or two young men, +sons of most respectable farmers--for it somehow happened that the Buck +was no great favorite with the seniors--stood, or rather had the +honor of standing, within the circle, for the purpose of “houldin' +conversation wid him;” for it could not reasonably be supposed that the +Buck could throw away such valuable political information and high-flown +English upon mere boors, who were incapable of understanding either the +one or the other. + +“And so, Mr. English,” said one of those whom, he had brought within +the circle, “you think the established church, the great heresy of +Luther,--will go down at last?” + +“Think it, Tom--why, if you get me a book I'll swear it, and that's +better than thinking any dee. Didn't Emencipation pess? answer me that.” + +“Begad it did so, sir,”--from the crowd. “Well,” proceeded the Buck, +“what doubt or hesiteetion can there be that the seem power and +authority that riz our own church won't be keepable of puttin' down the +great protesting heresy?” + +“See that now,” from the crowd; “begad it stands to raison sure enough.” + +“Certainly,” he proceeded, “none what-somever; but then the question is, +how can it be effectualized?” + +The crowd--“Begad, and so it is.” + +“Well, my friends, it isn't at oll difficult to determine that +particularity: you oll know that a men lives by food--very well; pleece +that men in a persition where he can't procur food and the nethrel +kensiquence is that he must die. Eh--ha! ha! ha!--do you kimprehind?” + +“Not a doubt of it,” replied Mr. Crowd, “but sure, at any rate, we will +kimprehend it by-an'-by.” + +“Very well; take the protesting? church or the parsons, for it is oll +the seem--deprive them of the mains of support, that is to see, deny +them their tithes--don't pay a shilling--hold out to the death, as my +friend the Counsellor--great O'Connell says--and as we oil say, practice +passive resistance,then you know the establishment must stirve and die +of femine and distitootion, as a contributive jidgment for its sins.” + +Crowd--“Blood alive, isn't that great!” + +“What is it?” from the other circle. + +“Why, that the parsons, an' all belonging to them, is to die of family +prostitution for their sins!” + +“Devil's cure to them, then, for they desarve it--at least many of them +does, anyhow,” says one segment. + +“Faith, an' I don't know that either,” says another segment. “The +parsons, bad as they're spoken of, was, for the most part, willin' to +live among us; and, begad, you all know that they're kind friends and +good neighbors, an' that the money they get out of the parish comes back +into the parish agin--not all as one as absentee landlords. They give +employment as far as they're able, an' thar's no doubt but their wives +and daughters does a great dale of good among the poor, and so, begad, +does the parsons themselves often.” + +“Who is that wiseecre that spoke last?” asked the Buck; “if I don't +misteek he leebors with Dennis Purcel, the procter.” + +“Ay, an' a very good masther he is,” replied the spokesman of the +segment; “gives plenty of employment anyhow--although the pay's no great +shakes--an' that's more than some that abuses him does.” + +“There's no one aboosin' him here, my good friend, so don't imegine +it--at leest I should be extremely sorry to do so. I respect himself and +his family in a very elevated manner, I assoore you. An' what's more, my +friend, I'll thank you to report to him that I said so.” + +Here he looked significantly among the mob, especially as he perceived +that the man's eyes were not fixed upon him whilst he spoke, and having +thrust his tongue into his cheek, half in derision, and half as it were +by a natural action, he succeeded at all events in creating a general +laugh; but so easily is a laugh, among such an audience, created, that +it is not altogether within our power or penetration to determine the +point which occasioned their mirth, unless it were the grimace with +which his words were accompanied--or stay--perhaps it was the strong +evil odor in which Purcel, the subject of their conversation, must have +been held. + +“Talk of the devil, Mr. English,” replied a stern voice from the +listeners, “and he will appear; look down the road there and you'll see +Purcel himself an' his family drivin' to mass on the sweat and groans of +the people!” + +“Not all of them,” replied another voice, in a different tone; “there's +only himself, his wife, and their two spankin' daughters, upon the +jauntin' car; but, blood alive, look at the sons! Devil so purty a lot +of sweat and groans I seen this twelvemonth as the two is riding on, +in the shape of a pair of blood-horses, so that you may put the +blood, Barney, along wid the sweat and the groans, agra. Well done, +tithes!--ha! ha! ha!” + +The individual laugh that accompanied these last observation was cruel, +revolting, and hideous. The Buck sought out the speaker among the crowd, +and gave him first a nod of approval--and almost instantly afterward +added, with a quick change of countenance, but not until he perceived +that this double expression was pretty generally understood-- + +“Don't, my friend--if they get wealthy and proud upon our groans and +tears an' blood, as you say, it is not their invalidity that makes them +do so, but ours. Instead, of being cruel to them it is to ourselves we +are cruel; for by peeing the aforeseed tithes we are peeing away our +heart's blood, an' you know that if we are the fools to pee that way, +small bleeme to them if they take it in the shape of good passable cash. +They--meening sich men as Purcel--are only the instruments with which +the parsons work.” + +“Ay,” replied the stern voice, “but, in case we had the country to +ourselves, do you think now, Buck darlin', that when we'd settle off +the jidges, an' lawyers, an' sheriffs, an' bailiffs, that we'd allow the +jails or the gibbets to stan', or the hangmen to live. No, by japers, +we'd make a clane sweep of it; and when sich a man as Purcel becomes +a tool in the parsons' hands to grind the people, I don't see that we +ought to make fish of one an' flesh of the other.” + +“Ah, Darby Hourigan, is that you?” exclaimed the Buck; “well, although +I don't exaggerate with your severity, yet I will shake hands with you. +How do you do Darby? Darby, I think you're a true petriot--but, so +far as Mr. Purcel is concirned, I wish you to understand that he is a +particular friend of mine, and so is every mimber of his family.” + +“Faith, an' Mr. Buck, it's more than you are with them, I can tell you.” + +“But perhaps you are a little misteeken there, Mr. Hourigan,” replied +the Buck, with a swagger, whilst he raised his head and pulled up the +collar of his shirt at both sides, with a great deal of significant +self-consequence;--“perhaps you are--I see so, that's oll. Perhaps, I +repeat, there is some mimber of that family not presupposed against me, +Mr. Hourigan?” + +“Well, may be so,” replied the other; “but if it be so, it's of late it +must have happened, that's what I say.” + +Hourigan, who was by trade a shoemaker, was also a small farmer; but, +sooth to say, a more treacherous or ferocious-looking ruffian you could +not possibly meet with in a province. He was spare and big-boned slouchy +and stealthy in his gait, pale in face with dark, heavy brows that +seemed to have been kept from falling into his deep and down-looking +eyes only by an effort. His cheekbones stood out very prominently, +whilst his thin, pallid cheeks fell away so rapidly as to give him +something the appearance of the resuscitated skeleton of a murderer, for +never in the same face were the kindred spirits of murder and cowardice +so hideously blended. + +Much more dialogue of the description just detailed took place, in which +the proctor was not without defenders; but at the same time, as we are +bound to record nothing but truth, we are compelled to say, that the +majority of the voices were fearfully against him. If, however, he, the +proctor and the instrument, had but few to support him, what must we not +suppose the defence of the system in all its bearings to have been? + +At length, as Purcel and his family approached, the conversation was +transferred from the political to the personal, and he, his wife, and +his children, received at the hands of the people that satirical abuse, +equally unjust and ungenerous, which an industrious family, who have +raised themselves from poverty to independence, are in general certain +to receive from all those who are deficient in the virtues by which the +others rose. + +“Ay, there he comes now, ridin' on his jauntin' car, an' does he think +that we all forget the time when he went wid his basket undher his arm, +wid his half-a-crown's worth of beggarly hardware in it. He begun it as +a brat of a boy, an' was called nothin' then but _Mahon na gair_ (that +is 'Mat of the-grin'); but, by-and-by, when he came to have a pack over +the shoulder, and to carry a yard wan' he began to turn Bodagh on our +hands. Felix, it's himself that soon thought to set up for the style an' +state.” + +“At any rate,” said the friendly voice aforesaid, “no one can deny but +he's a good employer--if he'd give better wages.” + +“A good employer!” said Hourigan; “we all know he must get his work +done--small thanks to him for that, an' a small price he-pays for it.” + +“We all know the ould proverb,” said another individual; “set a beggar +on horseback, an' he'll ride to the devil. Whist! here they come.” + +As the last person concluded, Purcel and the female portion of his +family drew up under the shadow of the tree already alluded to, which +here overhung the road, so that he came right in contact with the crowd. + +“Ah, boys,” said he, with his characteristic good-humor, “how are you +all? Darby Hourigan, how are your family? Isn't this glorious weather, +boys?” + +“Blessed weather, sir,” replied Hourigan, who became in some degree +spokesman. “I hope your honor an' the mistress, sir, an' the young +ladies is all well.” + +“My honor, as you are pleased to call me, was never better in my life; +as for the mistress and the young ladies there they are, so judge for +yourself, Darby: but Darby my good friend, you have a d--d sneaking, +slavish way with you. Why do you call me 'your honor' when you know--for +I've often told you--that wouldn't bear it? Am I not one of yourselves? +and don't most of you know that I began the world upon half-a-crown, and +once carried a hardware basket on my arm?--d--n it, then, speak like a +man to a man, and not like a slave, as I'm half inclined to think you +are.” + +“Throth, sir,” replied Hourigan, with an indescribable laugh, “an' for +all that you say, there's many that gets the title of 'your honor,' that +doesn't desarve it _as well_.” + +“Ah well, man! Why, there's many a man gets it that doesn't desarve it +_at all_, which is saying more than you said--ha! ha! ha!” + +Whilst this little dialogue took place, our worthy Buck had abandoned +his place under the ikee, and flown to the car to assist the ladies +off--a piece of attention not unobserved by Purcel, who obliquely kept +his eye upon that worthy's gallantry, and the reception it was getting +from the parties to whom it was offered. + +“Leedies,” said the Buck, in his politest manner and language, “will you +allow me the gallantry to help you off? Mrs. Purcel, I hope you're well. +Here, ma'am, aveel yourself of me.” + +“Thank you, Mr. English; I'm much obliged,” she returned, rather coolly. + +“Leedies,” he proceeded, flying to the other side, “allow me the +gallantry.” + +The two young women, who were full of spirits and good humor, were +laughing most heartily, _sub silentio_, at the attention thus so +ceremoniously paid to their mother by a man whom, beyond all human +beings, she detested. Now, however, that he came to proffer his +“gallantry” to themselves, they were certainly rather hard pressed to +maintain or rather regain their gravity. + +“Leedies,” the Buck continued, “may I have the gallantry to help you +off?” + +“Oh, thank you, it's too much trouble, Mr. English.” + +“None on airth, Miss Purcel--do let me have the high-flown +satisfaction.” + +“Oh, well,” she replied, “since you will be so polite,” and giving him +her hand she was about to go down, when suddenly withdrawing it, as if +recollecting herself, she said, nodding with comic significance toward +her sister Julia--“My sister, Mr. English, have you no gallantry for +her?” + +“Ah,” he whispered, at the same time gratefully squeezing her hand, +“you're a first-rate divinity--a tip-top goddess--divil a thing else. +Miss Joolia, may I presoome for to have the plisure and polite gallantry +to help you off the car; 'pon honor it'll be quite grateful and +prejudicial to my feelings--it will, I assoore you!” + +“Bless me, whose is that wedding party, Mr. English?” asked Miss Julia, +pointing to the opposite direction of the road. + +English instantly turned round to observe, when, by a simultaneous act, +both sisters stepped nimbly from the car. Miss Julia, as if offended, +but at the same time with a comic gravity of expression, exclaimed-- + +“Oh, fie! Mr. English, is that your boasted gallantry? I'm afraid your +eight years' residence in England, however it may have improved +the elegance of your language and accent, hasn't much improved your +politeness!” + +So saying, she and her sister tripped off to the chapel, which they +immediately entered. Much about the same time their brothers arrived, +mounted, certainly, upon a pair of magnificent hunters, and having +handed them over to two lads to be walked about until the conclusion of +Mass, they also entered the chapel, for the priest was not now more than +three or four hundred yards; distant. + +The jest practised so successfully upon our friend the Buck occasioned +a general laugh at his expense, a circumstance which filled, him +with serious mortification, if not with actual resentment, for it so +happened, that one of his great foibles was such a morbid sensibility to +ridicule as was absolutely ludicrous. + +“Bedad, Mr. English, you wor fairly done there; in spite o' the tall +English, you're no match for the ladies. Miss Julia fairly gev' you the +bag to hould.” + +The Buck's eye glittered with bitterness. + +“Miss Julia, do you say?” he replied; “why, my good friend, the girl was +christened Judy--plain Judy; but now that they've got into high-flown +life, you persave, nothing will sarve them but to ape their betthers. +However, never mind, I'll see the day yet, and that before long, when +saucy Judy won't refuse my assistance. Time about's fair play, you +know.” + +It may be observed here, that Buck English happened to forget himself, +which he almost always did whenever he became in earnest: he also forgot +his polite language and peculiar elegance of pronunciation. To a vain +and weak mind there is nothing more cutting than the consciousness of +looking mortified in the eyes of others, and under these circumstances +to feel that the laugh is against you, adds one not important item to +“the miseries of human life.” + +The Buck, now that the priest was at the chapel door, walked, with a +stride that very much resembled the mock-heroic, towards the place of +worship; but, in the opinion of the shrewd spectators, his dignity was +sadly tarnished by the humorous contempt implied in the practical jest +that had been so adroitly played off at his expense. + + + + +CHAPTER II.--The Proctor's Principles and His Family. + +For a considerable time previous to the scene described in our last +chapter, a principle of general resistance to tithes had been deepening +in and spreading over the country. Indeed the opposition to them had, +for at least half a century before, risen up in periodical ebullitions +that were characterized by much outrage and cruelty. On this account, +then, it was generally necessary that the residence of that unpopular +functionary, the tithe-proctor, should be always one of considerable +strength, in order the more successfully to resist such midnight attacks +as hostile combination might make upon it. Purcel, as well as other +proctors of his day, had from time to time received threatening notices, +not only of a personal nature, but also of premeditated attacks upon +his house. The man was, however, not only intrepid and resolute, +but cautious and prudent; and whilst he did not suffer himself to be +intimidated by threats that for the most part ended in nothing, he took +care to keep himself and his family well provided against any attack +that might be made upon them. + +The history of Matthew Purcel is soon told. It is that of enterprise, +perseverance, and industry, tinged a good deal by a sharp insight into +business, a worldly spirit, and although associated with a good deal of +pride and display, an uncontrollable love of putting money together, not +always under circumstances that were calculated to render him popular, +nor which could, in point of feeling or humanity, be at all defended. He +had commenced the world, as has been already intimated, in character +of a hardware pedlar. From stage to stage of that circulating life he +advanced until he was able to become a stationary shopkeeper in the +town of C------m. The great predilection of his heart, however, was for +farming, and in pursuance with his wishes on this subject, he took a +large farm, and entered upon its management with considerable spirit and +a good deal of skill. His success was beyond his expectations; and, as +the spirit of agriculture continued to gain upon him, he gradually lost +his relish for every other description of business. He consequently gave +up his large shop in C------m, and went to reside upon his farm, with a +capital of some thousands, which he owed to the industry of his previous +life. Here he added farm to farm, until he found himself proprietor of +nearly six hundred acres, with every prospect of adding largely to his +independence and wealth. + +It was now that his capacity as a man peculiarly well acquainted with +the value of land, and of agricultural produce in general, induced him +to accept of offers in connection with the collection of tithe, which +were a good deal in accordance with his ability and habits. In short, he +became a tithe-proctor, and in the course of a few years rented tithes +himself to a very large amount. + +Such is the brief history of Matthew Purcel, at the period when he makes +his appearance upon our humble stage; and it only remains that we add a +few particulars with regard to his family. Out of eleven children only +four survived--two sons and two daughters--all of whom were exceedingly +well educated, the latter accomplished. Purcel's great object in life +was more to establish a family than to secure the individual happiness +of his children. This was his ambition--the spirit which prompted him, +in his dealings with the people, to forget too frequently that the garb +of justice may be often thrown over the form of rapacity, and that the +authority of law is also, in too many instances, only another name for +oppression. + +It would be difficult, perhaps impossible, to find in their native +province four such children as called him father. His two sons were, +in symmetry of figure, strength, courage, manly beauty, and gentlemanly +bearing, almost unrivalled. They possessed the manners of gentlemen, +without any of that offensive coxcombry on the one side, or awkward +affectation of ease on the other, which generally mark the upstart. +In fact, although they understood their own worth, and measured their +intellectual powers and acquirments successfully with those of rank and +birth, they had sense enough to feel that it would have been ridiculous +in them to affect by their conduct the prestige of either; and they +consequently knew that both discrimination and delicacy were necessary +in enabling them to assume and maintain that difficult bearing in +society, which prevented them from encroaching on the one side or giving +up their proper position on the other. So far so good. Their characters, +however, were not without some deep shadows. Whilst we acknowledge that +they were generous, resolute, liberal, and of courage, we must also +admit that they were warm, thoughtless, and a good deal overbearing to +many, but by no means to all, of the peasantry with whom they came in +contact. From the ample scale on which their farming was conducted, and +in consequence of the vast number of men they necessarily had occasion +to employ, they could not but detect among them many instances both of +falsehood, dishonesty, and ingratitude. These vices at their hands never +received any favor. So far from that, those whom they detected in the +commission of them, were instantly turned adrift, Very often after +having received a sound horse-whipping. Much abuse also occurred between +them and the country people with reference to land, and especially +tithes, in which they gave back word for word, and too frequently met +concealed or implied threats either by instant chastisement or open +defiance; the result of all was, as the reader may perceive, that they +had the worst and least scrupulous, and consequently, most dangerous +class of persons in the country for their enemies. The name of the elder +was John, and the younger Alick; and, soothe to say, two finer-looking, +more spirited, or determined young fellows could not be found probably +in the kingdom. The relative position, then, in which they and the +people, or rather the worst class of them, stood to each other, and the +bitter disparaging taunts and observations with which the proctor and +his sons were treated, not only on the chapel green, but almost wherever +they appeared, are now, we trust, intelligible to the reader. + +Of the daughters, Mary and Julia, we have not so much to observe. +They were both very beautiful; and, as we have already said, highly +accomplished. Both, too, were above the middle height and sizes, and +remarkable for the singular elegance and symmetry of their figures. +Mary, the eldest, was a dark beauty, with a neck and bosom like snow, +and hair black as the raven's wing; whilst Julia, on the contrary, was +fair, and if possible, more exquisitely rounded than her sister. Her +eyes, of a blue gray, were remarkable for an expression of peculiar +depth and softness, whilst Mary's dark brown were full at once of a +mellow and penetrating light. In other respects they resembled each +other very much, both being about the same height and size, and +altogether of a similar bearing and figure. Mary's complexion was +evidently inherited from her mother, who was, at the opening of +our narrative, a black-haired, handsome woman, with a good deal of +determination about her mouth and brow, but with a singularly benevolent +expression when she smiled. She, too, had received a good, plain +education, and was one of those naturally well-mannered women who, +whilst they are borne forward into greater respectability by the current +of prosperity, can assume, without effort, the improved tone of better +society to which they are raised. + +There were few women in her sphere of life, or indeed in any sphere +of life, who dispensed more good to the poor and distressed than Mrs. +Purcel; and in all her kindness and charities she was most cordially +aided and supported by her admirable daughters. Within a wide circle +around her dwelling, sickness and destitution, or unexpected calamity, +were ever certain to be cheered by the benevolent hand of herself or +her daughters. The latter, indeed, had latterly relieved her, in a great +degree, if not altogether, of all her distant and outdoor charities, so +that little now was left to her management but the claims of such poor +as flocked for assistance to the house. + +Mass having been concluded, and the benediction given in the chapel of +Red Ridge, Mr. Purcel and his family soon appeared among the crowd on +the green, preparing to return home. The car was driven up opposite the +chapel door, to the place where they were in the habit of waiting for +it. The two brothers came out along with their sisters, and signed to +the lads who had been holding their horses to bring them up. In the +meantime, Buck English, unabashed by the rebuff he had received, +once more approached, and just as the car had come up, tendered his +gallantry--as he called it--with his usual politeness. + +“I trust, leedies, that as you were not kin-descending enough to let me +have the gallantry of helping you off, you will let me have the pleasure +of helping you on?” + +“That lady behind you appears to have prior claims upon you, Mr. +English.” + +“Behind me!” he exclaimed, turning about. “Why, Miss Joolia, there's no +leddy behind me.” + +In the meantime she beckoned to her brother who, while the, proctor +was assisting his wife to take her seat, helped up both the girls, who +nodding to the Buck, said-- + +“Thank you, Mr. English: we feel much obliged for your gallant +intentions; quite as much, indeed, as if you had carried them into +effect.” + +This joke, so soon played off after that which had preceded it, and +upon the same person, too, occasioned another very general laugh at the +Buck's expense; and, beyond a doubt, filled him with a double measure of +mortification and resentment. + +“There you go,” he muttered, “and it was well said before Mass, that if +you set a beggar on horseback he'll ride to the divil.” + +“To whom do you apply that language?” asked Alick Purcel. + +“To one Michael Purcel, a tithe-proctor, an oppressor and a grinder of +the poor,” returned Buck, fiercely. + +“And, you insolent scoundrel, how dare you use such language to my +father?” said the other. “I tell you, that if it were not from a +reluctance to create an unbecoming quarrel so near the house of God, and +so soon after his worship, I would horsewhip you, you illiterate, vulgar +rascal, where you stand.” + +“I would be glad to catch you making the attempt,” replied the Buck, +with a look of fury; “because I would give you such a lesson as you +would never forget. I would let you know that it isn't your father's +unfortunate tenants and day-laborers you have before you--and that you +scourge like hounds in a kennel.” + +Purcel was actually in the act of springing at him, whip in hand, when, +fortunately, the priest interfered, and prevented a conflict which, from +the strength and spirit by which the parties were animated, must have +been a fearful one. + +[Illustration: PAGE 374-- The priest interfered, and prevented a +conflict] + +“What is this?” said the worthy man; “in God's name, what does this +scandalous conduct, in such a place, and on such an occasion, mean? Come +between these madmen,” he proceeded, addressing the crowd, which had now +collected about them. “Keep them asunder!” + +The two men were separated; but as each felt himself under the influence +of strong resentment, they glared at one another with looks of fiery +indignation. + +“You had better keep out of my way, you impudent scoundrel,” said +Purcel, shaking his whip at him; “and hark ye, make no more attempts to +pay attention to any of my sisters, or, by the heavens above me, I will +trace you through all your haunts, and flog you as I would a dog.” + +“I'll take care to give you the opportunity before long, Squire Purcel, +or rather Squireen Purcel,” replied the Buck; “and what is more, I'll +see you and yours in my power yet.” + +“You're too ready wid your whip, Mr. Purcel,” said several voices from +among the crowd; “and you do think it's dogs you have to dale wid, as +Mr. English says.” + +“No,” said Purcel, with scom; “I deny it; my whip is never raised unless +to the shoulders of some slavish, lying, and dishonest scoundrel, whom I +prefer to punish rather than to prosecute.” + +“Take. care it doesn't come aginst you, then, some o' these days,” said +a voice. + +“Ay,” added another, “or some o' these nights!” + +“Ah, you ungrateful and cowardly crew,” he replied, “who have not one +drop of manly blood in your veins, I despise you. Like all thorough +cowards, you are equally slavish and treacherous. Kindness is thrown +away upon you, generosity you cannot understand, for open fight or open +resentment you have neither heart nor courage--but give you the hour of +midnight, and your unsuspecting victim asleep--or place you behind the +shelter of a hedge, where your cowardly person is safe and invisible, +with a musket or blunderbuss in your hands, and a man before whom you +have crawled in the morning like reptiles, you will not scruple to +assassinate that night. Curse upon you! you are a disgrace to any +Christian country, and I despise, I say, and defy you. As for you, +Buck English, avoid my path, and cross neither me nor any member of my +family.” + +“Alick Purcel,” said English, “mark my words--I'll put my thumb upon +you and yours yet. I say, mark them; for the day will come when you will +remember them to your cost.” + +Purcel gave him a stern look, and merely said--“I'm prepared for you;” + after which he and his brother John mounted their horses and dashed off +at a rapid pace towards their father's house, followed by the groans +and hootings of the people--far above all whose voices was heard that of +Buck English, in loud and contemptuous tones. + +On relating the occurrence at home, the father, as was his custom, only +laughed at it. + +“Pooh, Alick,” said he, “what does it signify? Have we not been annoyed +for years by these senseless broils and empty threats? Don't think of +them.” + +“I, father!” replied his son; “do you imagine that I ever bestow a +second thought upon them? Not I, I assure you. However, there is one +thing would most unquestionably gratify me, and that is, an opportunity +of cudgelling Buck English; because, upon second consideration, +horse-whipping would be much too gentlemanly a style of chastisement for +such a vulgar and affected ruffian.” + +“I regret very much, however,” said his sister Julia, “that I have been +the cause of all this; but really, as Mary here knows, the absurdity of +his language was perfectly irresistible.” + +“Yes,” replied her sister; “but, in fact, he is constantly annoying and +persecuting her, and very few would bear such nonsense and absurdity +from him with so much good-humor as Julia does. I grant that it is very +difficult to be angry with so ridiculous a fool; but I do agree with +Julia, that it is better to laugh at him, for two seasons: the first is, +because he is a fit object for ridicule; and the second, because it is +utterly impossible to resist it.” + +“I don't think he will annoy Julia again, however,” said Alick. + +“Not until the next opportunity,” observed his brother, “when, you may +take my word for it, he will be as ridiculously polite and impudent as +ever.” + +“Not a doubt of it,” said the father; “the rascal's incurable, and +little did I imagine when I asked him once or twice to dine here that I +was preparing such an infliction for poor Julia. Julia didn't he write +to you?” + +“I certainly had the honor of receiving a very elaborate love-letter +from him,” replied Julia, laughing, “which I will show you some of these +days; but, for my part, I think the fool is beneath resentment, and it +is merely on that principle that I have treated him with good-humored +contempt.” + +“He is certainly as good as a farce,” said the father; “and if the +rascal had kept from making love, I should have still been glad to have +him here from time to time to amuse us.” + +“How does he live at all?” asked Mrs. Purcel; “for, by all accounts, he +has no fixed place of residence, nor any known means of support.” + +“Faith, Nancy, that's a subject upon which we are all aiqually +ignorant,” replied her husband; “but that the fellow lives, and can live +comfortably--ay, and has plenty of money, there can be no earthly doubt. +At the same time, that there is much talk about him, and a great deal of +mystery too, is a sure case on the other hand. Well, never mind, Jack; +I asked your old tutor, M'Carthy, to dine here to-day; he has come home +to the country after having gained a scholarship, I believe they call +it, in Trinity College.” + +“I'm glad you did, father,” replied John, “and I'm much obliged to you. +Yes, he has gained first place, and I knew he would.” + +“He intends going to the bar, he tells me.” + +“He will be heard from yet, or I renounce all claims to common sense,” + replied the other. “There is, unquestionably, a brilliant career before +him.” + +“I would rather, in the meantime,” observed Mrs. Purcell, “that he had +continued steadfast to his religion. They tell me that he has become a +Protestant.” + +“Why, I believe he couldn't gain a scholarship, as you call it, Jack, +without becoming a member of the Established Church.” + +“No, sir, he could not.” + +“Well, then,” proceeded the proctor, “what great harm? Why, I believe in +my soul, that if it weren't for the bigotry of priests and parsons, who +contrive to set the two churches together by the ears, there would be +found very little difference between them. For my part, I believe a +good, honest Protestant will go to heaven when a scoundrel Papist won't, +and vice versa. The truth is, begad, that it's six of one and half a +dozen of the other; and sorry would I be to let so slight a change as +passing from one religion to the other ever be a bar to the advancement +or good fortune of any one of my children!” + +“I would much rather not hear you say so, Mat,” replied his wife; “nor +do I ever wish my children to gain either wealth or station in the world +by the sacrifice of the highest principle that can bind the heart--that +of religion.” + +“Pooh, Nancy, you speak like a woman who never looked beyond the range +of the kitchen and larder, or thought beyond the humdrum prayers of your +Manual. I wish to see my children established; I wish to see them gain +station in the world; I wish to make them the first of their family; and +I do assure you, Nancy, that it is not such a trifle as the difference +between popery on the one hand, and Protestantism on the other, that I'd +suffer--that is, if they will be guided by me--to stand between them and +the solid advantages of good connection, and a proper standing in the +world. I say, then, boys and girls, don't be fools; for, as for my part, +I scarcely think, to tell God's truth, that there's to the value of +sixpence between the two creeds.” + +“Father,” said Mary, laughing, “you're a man of a truly liberal +disposition in these matters.” + +“But, papa,” said Julia, with an arch look, “if there be not the value +of sixpence between the two creeds, perhaps there is more than that +between the two clergy?” + +The proctor shook his head and laughed. + +“Ah, Judy, my girl, you have me there,” he replied; “that goes home +to the proctor, you baggage. Devil a thing, however, like an endowed +church, and may God keep me and all my friends from the voluntary +system!--ha! ha! ha! Come, now, for that same hit at the old proctor, +you must walk over here and play me my old favorite, the 'Cannie +Soogah,' just to pull down your pride. The 'Cannie Soogah,' you know, is +the Irish for Jolly Pedlar, and a right jolly pedlar your worthy father +was once in his days.” + +“By the way, papa,” said Mary, “talking of that--what has become of +the pleasant man that goes under that name or nickname--the pedlar that +calls here occasionally?” + +“I saw him in the market yesterday,” replied her father, “and a fine, +hale fellow he is of his years. For a man of fifty he's a miracle of +activity and energy.” + +“They say he is wealthy,” observed John, “and I shouldn't wonder. You +ought to give a good guess at that, father--ha! ha! ha!” + +“Right, John, I ought, and I think he is. You don't know how money +gathers with a successful pedlar, who is up to his business. I am +inclined to think that the Cannie Soogah is the only man who can throw +any light on the history of Buck English.” + +“Who the devil is that impudent scoundrel, father? for it appears that, +as regards his birth, family, and origin, nobody knows anything certain +about him.” + +“And that is just the position in which I stand,” replied his father. +“It is a subject on which he himself gives no satisfaction to any one. +When asked about it, he laughs in jour face, and replies that he +doesn't exactly know, but is of the opinion that he is the son of his +father--whoever that was; but that, he says, he is not wise enough to +know either, and then, after another laugh at you, he leaves you.” + +“How does he live?” asked John, “for he has no visible means of +support--he neither works nor is engaged in any profession, and yet he +dresses well.” + +“Well! John;” exclaimed Julia. + +“Perhaps I ought not to say--_well_, Julia; but at all events, he is +very fond of being considered a buck, and he certainly dresses up to +that character.” + +“He admits that he was eight years in England,” said his father; +“although, for my part, it's just as likely that he spent seven years +of that time in Botany Bay; if not, I should have no objection that +something should occur to make him spend the remainder of his life +there.” + +“Why should you wish the man so ill, papa'?” asked Mary. + +“Why, Mary--faith for a very good reason, my dear child; because I don't +wish to see your sister annoyed and persecuted by the scoundrel. The +fellow is so impudent that he will take no rebuff.” + +“By the way, father, where does M'Carthy stop, now that he is in +the country?” asked Alick, with some hesitation, and a brow a little +heightened in color. + +“For the present,” replied the other, “he stops with our friend, +O'Driscol, the new magistrate. Faith, it's a shove-up for O'Driscol to +get on the Bench. Halloo! there's M'Carthy's knock--I'm sure I know it.” + +The proctor was right; but notwithstanding his quickness and sagacity, +there was another individual in the room at that moment who recognized +it sooner than he did. Julia arose, and withdrew under some pretence +which we cannot now remember, but I really because she felt that had she +remained until M'Carthy's entrance, her blushes would have betrayed her. + +“M'Carthy is a very handsome young-fellow,” observed John--“would he +think of entering any pretensions to Katherine O'Driscol?” + +“What d--d stuff you often talk, John--begging your pardon,” replied his +brother; “he has hard reading, and his profession to think of--both of +which he will find enough for him, setting Katherine O'Driscol and love +out of the question.” + +“Very good, Alick,” said John. “Ha! ha ha! I thought I would touch you +there. The bait took, my boy; jealousy, jealousy, father.” + +Alick, on finding that he was detected, forced himself into a confused +laugh, and, in the meantime, M'Carthy entered. + +Nothing could surpass the cordiality of his reception. A holiday spirit +was obvious among the family--at least among all who were then visible. +Secretly, however, did his eye glance about in search of one, on whose +reception of him more depended than a thousand welcomes from all the +rest. In about twenty minutes Julia made her appearance, but to any +person in the secret, it was obvious that she was combating with much +inward, if not with some appearance of external confusion and restraint. +After the first greetings were over, however, she gradually recovered +her self-possession, and was able to join in the conversation without +embarrassment or difficulty. + + + + +CHAPTER III.--Mountain Legislation, and its Executive of Blood. + + +After dinner that day, and while the gentlemen were yet at table, Mary +and Julia, who, as we have said, had relieved their mother of those +benevolent attentions which she had been in the habit of paying to the +neighboring sick and poor, proceeded on their way to the cottage of +a destitute woman in the next village, who was then lying in what was +considered to be a hopeless state. The proctor himself, while he exacted +with a heartless and rapacious hand the last penny due to him, was yet +too good a tactician to discountenance these spontaneous effusions of +benevolence on the part of his wife and daughters. With a good deal +of ostentation, and that peculiar swagger for which many shrewd and +hard-hearted men of the world are remarkable, he actually got the +medicine himself for the helpless invalid in question, not forgetting at +the same time to make the bystanders in the apothecary's shop acquainted +with the extent of his own private charity and that of his family +besides. The girls had proceeded a part of the way on their charitable +errand, when it occurred to them that the medicine, which their father +had procured on the preceding day, had been forgotten, and as the sick +woman was to commence taking it at a certain hour that evening, it was +necessary that either one or both should return for it. + +“You needn't come back, Julia,” said Mary; “I will myself run home and +fetch it. And accordingly her sister went back at a quick step towards +her father's house. The spot where Julia stood to await the return, of +her sister was within a few yards of a large white-thorn double ditch, +on each side of which grew a close hedge of thorns, that could easily +afford room for two or three men to walk abreast between them. Here +she had not remained more than a minute or two, when, issuing from +the cover of the thorns, and approaching her with something of a stage +strut, our friend, Buck English, made his appearance. + +“Miss Joolia,” he exclaimed, with what was intended for a polite bow, +“I hope you will pardon me for this third liberty I teek in offering to +spake to you. I see,” he proceeded, observing her rising indignation, +“that you are not inclined to hear me, but I kim here to give you a bit +of advice as a friend--listen to my proposals, if you're wise--and don't +make me the enemy of yourself or your family, for so sure as you reject +me, so certainly will you bring ruin upon both yourself and them. I +say this as a friend, and merk me, the day may come when you will oll +remember my words too late.” + +There was a vehemence in his language, which could admit of no mistake +as to the fixed determination of his purpose; his lips were compressed, +his eyebrows severely knit, and his unfeeling, hyena eye scintillated +with a fire that proceeded as much from an inclination to revenge as +affection. Julia Purcel, however, though a women, possessed no whit of +her sex's cowardice; on the contrary, her bosom heaved with indignant +scorn, and her eye gave him back glance for glance, in a spirit that +disdained to quail before his violence. + +“Do you dare to threaten me or my family, sir?” she replied; “I think +you should know us better than to imagine that the threats of a ruffian, +for such I now perceive you to be, could for a moment intimidate either +them or me. Begone, sir, I despise and detest you--until this moment, +I looked upon and treated you as a fool, but I now find you are a +villain--begone, I say; I scorn and defy you.” + +“You defy me, do you?” + +“Yes, I have said it, I defy you.” + +“Well, then, so be it,” he replied, “you must take the consequences, +that's all, and let your favorite, M'Carthy, look to himself too.” + +Having uttered these significant words, ha reentered the double ditch, +along which a common pathway went, and in a minute or two was out of +sight. + +Mary, on her return, at once perceived, by the flushed cheek and kindled +eye of her sister, that something had discomposed her. “Why, goodness +me, dear Julia, you look disturbed or frightened; what is the matter?” + +“Disturbed I am,” she replied, “but not at all frightened. This worthy +lover of mine, whom nothing can abash, has honored me with another +interview.” + +“Is it after the scene between him and my brother to-day?” + +“Certainly,” she replied, with a smile, for she now began once more to +look upon the matter in a ludicrous point of view, “and has threatened +not only myself, but the whole family with destruction, unless I favor +his addresses--ha! ha! ha! He has one good quality in a lover, at all +events--perseverance.” + +“Say rather effrontery and impudence,” replied Mary. + +“Yes, I admit that,” said her sister; “but at any rate, they very often +go together, I believe.” + +She then related the dialogue that took place, at which her sister, who +was equally remarkable for courage, only laughed. + +“The fellow after all is only a fool,” she observed. “If he were +anything else, or if he had any serious intention of carrying such +threats into effect, he most assuredly would not give expression to +them, or put you on your guard against them. No, he is only a fool and +not worth thinking about: let him go.” + +They then proceeded to the cabin of poor Widow Cleary, to whom they +administered the medicine with their own hands, and to whose children +they brought their mother's orders to attend the house, that they +might be relieved with that comfortable food which their destitute +circumstances so much required. + +On their return home, the relation of the incident which we have just +narrated very much amused the family, with the exception of M'Carthy, +who expressed himself not quite at ease after having heard English's +threats. “There is an extraordinary mystery about that man,” he +observed; “no one knows or can tell who he is; you can call him a fool, +too, but take my word that there never hung mystery about a fool yet; I +fear he will be found to be something much worse than a fool.” + +“Nonsense,” replied the proctor. “The fellow is only ridiculous and +contemptible; he and his clipped English are not worth thinking of--let +him go to the deuce.” + +M'Carthy still shook his head, as if of opinion that they underrated the +Buck's power of injuring them, but the truth was that neither Purcel +nor his sons were at all capable of apprehending either fear or danger; +they, therefore, very naturally looked upon the denunciations of English +with a recklessness that was little less than foolhardy. + +During the last few years they had been accustomed to receive threats +and written notices of vengeance, which had all ended in nothing, and, +in consequence of this impunity, they had become so completely inured to +them as to treat them only with laughter and scorn. + +It has been already intimated to the reader that M'Carthy was residing, +during a short visit to the country, at the house of O'Driscol, the +newly-made magistrate. It was pretty late that evening when he took +leave of the Purcels, but as the distance was not far he felt no anxiety +at all upon the subject of his journey. The night, however, was so +pitchy dark, that even although well acquainted as he was with the +road, he found some difficulty in avoiding the drains and ditches that +enclosed it. At length he had arrived within a couple of hundred yards +of O'Driscol's house, when as he was proceeding along suddenly found +himself come unexpectedly against some individual, who was coming from +an opposite direction. + +“Hillo! who is here?” said the voice, in a kind of whisper. + +“A friend,” replied M'Carthy; “who are you?” + +“What's your name?” inquired the strange voice, “and be quick.” + +“My name is M'Carthy,” replied our friend; “why do you ask?” + +“Come this way,” said the stranger; “you are Francis M'Carthy, I think?” + +“Yes, that is my name--what is yours?” + +“That doesn't matther,” replied the voice, “stand aside here, and be +quiet as you value your life.” + +M'Carthy thought at the moment that he heard the noise of many feet, as +it were in the distance. + +“You will not be safe,” said the voice, “if you refuse to take my +advice;” and as he spoke he partly forced M'Carthy over to the side of +the road where they both stood invisible from the darkness of the night, +as well as from the shelter of a large whitethorn branch, which would, +even in daylight, almost have concealed them from view. In a few +minutes, a large body of people passed them with that tread which always +characterizes the motions of undisciplined men. There was scarcely a +word among them, but M'Carthy felt that, knowing them as he did to +be peasants, there was something dreadful in the silence which they +maintained so strictly. He could not avoid associating their movements +and designs with some act of violence and bloodshed, that was about to +add horror to the impenetrable gloom of night, whose darkness, perhaps, +they were about to light up with the roof-tree of some unsuspecting +household, ignorant of the fiery fate that was then so near them. + +Several hundreds must have passed, and when the last sounds of their +tread had died away, M'Carthy and his companion left their hiding-place, +when the latter addressed him as follows:-- + +“Now, Mr. M'Carthy, I wish you to understand that you are wid a +friend--mark my words--avoid the man they call Buck English, for of all +men livin' he hates you the most; and listen, whenever you come to this +country don't stop in procthor Purcel's, otherwise you may draw down +ruin and destruction upon him and his; and, if I'm not mistaken, you're +the last man livin' who would wish to do that.” + +“By the way,” asked M'Carthy, “who is Buck English?” + +“I don't know,” replied the stranger, “nor do I know any one that does.” + +“And may I not ask who you are yourself?” + +“No--for I've good raisons for not telling you. Good-night, and mark my +words--avoid that man, for I know he would give a good deal to sit over +your coffin--and you in it.” + +We shall now allow M'Carthy to proceed to his friend's house, which he +reached without any further adventure, and ask the reader to accompany +the stranger, who in a few minutes overtook the body we have described, +to which he belonged. They proceeded in the same way, still maintaining +a silence that was fearful and ominous, for about a mile and a half. +Whilst proceeding, they met several persons on the road, every one of +whom they stopped and interrogated as to his name and residence, after +which they allowed them to pass on. + +“Why do they! stop and examine the people they meet?” whispered one of +them a young lad about nineteen--to him who had just warned McCarthy. + +“Why,” said the other, “is it possible you don't know that? It's aisy +seen you're but young in the business yet.” + +“This is my first night to be out,” replied the youth. + +“Well, then,” rejoined our friend, “it's in the expectation of meetin' +an enemy, especially some one that's _marked_.” + +“An' what would they do if they did?” + +“_Do_? said the other; “_do for him!_. If they met sich a one, they'd +take care his supper wouldn't cost him much.” + +“Blood alive!” exclaimed the young fellow. “I'm afeard this is a bad +business.” + +“Faith, an' if it is, it's only beginnin',” said the other, “but whether +good or bad the counthry requires it, an' the Millstone must be got rid +of.” + +“What's the Millstone?” + +“The Protestant church. The man that won't join us to put it down, must +be looked upon and treated as an enemy to his country--that is, if he is +a Catholic.” + +“I have no objection to that,” replied the youth, “but I don't like to +see lives taken or blood shed; murdher's awful.” + +“You must set it down, then,” replied the other, “that both will happen, +ay, an' that you must yourself shed blood and take life when it +come your turn. Howanever, that will soon come aisy to you; a little +practice, and two or three opportunities of seeing the thing done, an' +you'll begin to take delight in it.” + +“And do you now?” asked the unsophisticated boy, with a quivering of the +voice which proceeded from a shudder. + +“Why, no,” replied the other, still in a whisper, for in this tone the +dialogue was necessarily continued; “not yet, at any rate; but if it +came my turn to take a life I should either do it, or lose my own some +fine night.” + +“Upon my conscience,” whispered the lad, “I can't help thinkin' that +it's a bad business, and won't end well.” + +“Ay, but the general opinion is, that if we get the Millstone from about +our necks, a few lives taken on their side, and a few boys hanged on +ours, won't make much difference one way or other, and then everything +will end well. That's the way of it.” + +This muffled dialogue, if we may use the expression, was now interrupted +by a change in their route. At a Rath, which here capped an eminence of +the road, a narrow bridle-way diverged to the right, and after a gradual +ascent for about a mile and a half, was lost upon a rough upland, that +might be almost termed a moor. Here they halted for a few minutes, in +deliberation as to whether they should then proceed across the moor, or +wait until the moon should rise and enable them to see their way. + +It was shortly resolved upon to advance, in order that they might lose +as little time as possible, in consequence of having, as it appeared, +two or three little affairs to execute in the course of the night. They +immediately struck across the rough ground which lay before them, and +as they did so, the conversation began to be indulged in more freely, in +consequence of their remoteness from any human dwelling or the chances +of being overheard. The whole body now fell into groups, each headed by +a certain individual who acted as leader, but so varied were the topics +of discourse, some using Irish, others the English language, that it was +rather difficult to catch the general purport of what they said. + +At length when a distance of about two miles had been traversed, they +came out upon one of those small green campaigns, or sloping meadows, +that are occasionally to be found embosomed in the mountains, and upon +which the eye rests with an agreeable sense of relief, on turning to +them from the dark and monotonous hue of the gloomy wastes around them. + +They had not been many minutes here when the moon rose, and after +a little time her light would have enabled a casual or accidental +spectator to witness a fearful and startling scene. About six hundred +men were there assembled; every man having his face blackened, and all +with shirts over their outward and usual garments. As soon as the moon, +after having gained a greater elevation in the sky, began to diffuse +a clearer lustre on the earth, we may justly say that it would be +difficult to witness so strange and appalling a spectacle. The white +appearance of their persons, caused by the shirts which they wore in the +manner we have stated, for this peculiar occasion, when contrasted with +their blackened visages, gave them more the character of demons than of +men, with whom indeed their strange costume and disfigured faces seemed +to imitate the possession of very little in common, with the exception +of shape alone. The light was not sufficiently strong to give them +distinctness, and as a natural consequence, there was upon them a dim +gleamy look--a spectral character that was frightful, and filled +the mind with an impression that the meeting must have been one of +supernatural beings, if not an assemblage of actual devils, in visible +shape, coming to perpetrate on earth some deed of darkness and of +horror. + +Among the whole six hundred there might have been about one hundred +muskets. Pistols, blunderbusses, and other arms there were in +considerable numbers, but these were not available for a portion, at +least, of the purposes which had brought them together. + +After some preliminary preparation a light was struck, a candle lit, +around which a certain number stood, so as to expose it to as little +chance of observation as possible. A man then above the middle size, +compact and big-boned, took the candle in one hand, and brought it +towards a long roll which he held in the other. He wore a white hat with +a low crown, had large black whiskers which came to his chin, and ran +besides round his neck underneath. The appearance of this man, and of +those who surrounded the dim light which he held was, when taking their +black unnatural faces into consideration, certainly calculated to excite +no other sensations than those of terror mingled with disgust. + +“Now,” said he, in a strong rich brogue, “let every man fall into rank +according as his name is called out; and along with his name he must +also repate his number whatever it may be, up until we come to a +hundred, for I believe we have no more muskets. Where is Sargin Lynch?” + +“Here I am,” replied that individual, who enjoyed a sergeant's pension, +having fought through the peninsular campaign. + +“Take the lists then and proceed,” said the leader; “we have little time +to lose.” + +Lynch then called over a list until he had reached a hundred; every man, +as he answered to his name, also repeated his number; as for instance, + +“Tom Halloran.” + +“Here--one!” + +“Peter Rafferty!” + +“Here--two!” and so on, until the requisite number was completed, and +every man as he responded fell also into rank. + +Having thus got them into line, he gave them a rather hasty drill; and +this being over, hundred after hundred went through the same process +of roll-call and manoeuvre, until the task of the night was completed, +so-far, at least, as that particular duty was concerned. Other duties, +however, in more complete keeping with their wild and demon-like +appearance, were still to be performed. Short rolls were called, by +which selections for the assemblage of such as had been previously +marked down for the robbery of arms, were made with considerable +promptitude. And, indeed, most of those to whom, such outrageous and +criminal attacks wera assigned, seemed to feel flattered by being +appointed to the performance of them. + +At length, when these matters were, arranged, and completed, the whole +body was ordered to fall into rank, and the large-man, who acted as +leader, walked for a times up and down in front of them, after which, +as nearly opposite their centre as possible, he deliberately knelt +down, and held his two open palms across each other for some seconds, or +perhaps for half a minute. + +A low fearful murmur, which no language could describe, and no +imagination conceive--without having heard it, ran along the whole line. +Whether it proceeded from compassion or exultation, or a blending of +both mingled with horror and aversion, or a diabolical, satisfaction, it +is difficult or rather absolutely impossible to say. The probability +is, however, that it was made up of all these feelings, and that it +was their unnatural union, expressed under such wild and peculiar +circumstances, that gave it the impressive and dreadful effect wo have +described. + +“What does he mane?” said some of the youthful and inexperienced portion +of them, in the accustomed whisper. + +“There's a death to take place to-night,” replied an older member; +“there's either a man or family doomed, God knows which!” He then +arose, and going along the front: rank, selected by name twenty-four +individuals, who were made to stand in order; to one of these he +whispered the name and residence of the victim; this one immediately +whispered the secret to the person next him, who communicated it in his +turn, and thus it went round until the last had received it. This being +accomplished, he stood apart from the appointed murderers, and made them +all, one after another, whisper to him the name and residence as before. + +“Now,” said the leader, “it's my duty to tell you that there's a man to +be done for tonight; and you must all know his crime. He was warned by +us no less than four times not to pay tithe, and not only that, but he +refused to be sworn out to do so, and wounded one of the boys that wor +sent by me one night to swear him. He has set us at defiance by publicly +payin' his tithes to a man that we'll take care of some o' these nights. +He's now doomed, an' was tried on the last night of our meetin'. This +night he dies. Them that has his life in their hands knows who he is an' +where they'll find him. Once and for all then this night he dies. Now, +boys, such of you as have nothing to do go home, and such of you as have +your work before you do it like men, and don't draw down destruction on +yourselves by neglectin' it. You know your fate if you flinch.--I have +done.” + +Those who were not on duty, to use a military phrase, returned across +the moors by the way they came, and consequently reached the bridle road +we have spoken of, together. Such, however, as were set apart for the +outrages and crimes of the night, remained behind, in order that the +peculiar destination of their atrocities might be known only to the +individuals who were appointed to perpetrate them. + +On their return, our unknown friend, who had rendered such an essential +service to M'Carthy, thus addressed his companion--that is to say, the +man who happened to be next him,-- + +“Well, neighbor, what do you think of this night's work?” + +“Why, that everything's right, of coorse,” replied the other; “any man +that strives to keep the Millstone about our necks desarves his fate; at +the same time,” he added, dropping his voice still lower, “I'd as soon +not be the man to do the deed, neighbor.” + +“Well, I can't say,” returned our friend, “but I'm a trifle of your way +of thinkin'.” + +“There's one thing troubles me,” added his companion, an' it's +this--there was a young lad wid us to-night from my neighborhood, he +was near the last of us as we went along the road on our way to the +mountains; I seen him whisperin' to some one a good deal as we +came out--now, I know there's not on airth a kinder-hearted or more +affectionate boy than he is; he hasn't a heart to hurt a fly, and is +loved and respected by every one in the neighborhood. Very well! God +of glory! isn't it too bad, that this one, handsome, lovin', and +affectionate boy, the only child of his father and mother,--_fareer +gair_ (* Bitter misfortune.)--my friend, whoever you are, isn't it too +bad, that that boy, innocent and harmless as a child, will go home to +his lovin' parents a murdherer this night?” + +“What makes you say so?” asked our unknown friend. + +“Why,” replied the man, “he stood beside me in the ranks, and has been +sent to murdher the man that was doomed.” + +To this our friend judiciously avoided making any reply, the fact +being that several individuals in high trust among these Whiteboys were +occasionally employed to sound suspected persons, in order to test their +sincerity. For about half a minute he spoke not; but at length he said, +with something like sternness-- + +“There's no use in sich talk as this, my friend; every man that joins us +must make up his mind to do his duty to God and his country.” + +“It's a quare way of sarvin' God to commit midnight murdher on his +creatures,” responded the man with energy. + +“I don't know who you are,” replied our friend, “but if you take my +advice, you'll not hould such conversation wid every man you spake to in +this body. Wid me you're safe, but at the same time, I say, don't draw +suspicion on yourself, and it'll be betther for you.” + +“Who is this man?” asked the other, who appeared to have been borne away +a good deal by his feelings, “that commands us?” + +“Don't you know Captain Midnight?” replied the other, somewhat +evasively. + +“Why, of coorse I know the man by that name; but, at the same time, I +know nothin' else about him.” + +“Did you never hear?” asked his companion. + +“Why, to tell you the truth,” said the other, “I heerd it said that he's +the _Cannie Soogah_, or the Jolly Pedlar that goes about the country.” + +“Well,” said the other, lowering his voice a good deal in reply, “if I +could trust you, I'd tell you what I think.” + +“I'll give you my name, then,” replied the other, “if you doubt me;” he +accordingly whispered it to him, and the conversation proceeded. + +“I know your family well,” returned our friend; “but, as I said before, +be more on your guard, unless you know well the man you spake to. As for +myself, I sometimes think it is the _Cannie Soogah_ and sometimes that +it is not. Others say it's Buck English; but the Buck, for raisons that +some people suspect, could never be got to join us. He wishes us well, +he says, but won't do anything till there comes an open 'ruction, and +then he'll join us, but not before. It's hard to say, at any rate, who +commands us when we meet this way.” + +“Why so?” + +“Why the dickens need you ax? Sure it's not the same man two nights +runnin'.” + +“But I have been only three or four times out yet,” replied his +companion; “and, sure enough, you're very--right--they hadn't the same +man twiste.” + +They had now reached the road under the Fort or Rath we have alluded +to, and as there was no further necessity for any combined motion +among them, and as every man now was anxious to reach home as soon +as possible, their numbers diminished rapidly, until they ultimately +dispersed themselves in all directions throughout the country. + + + + +CHAPTER IV.--Mirth and Murder--A Tithe-Proctor's Office. + + +The next morning, when our proctor and his family assembled at +breakfast, their usual buoyancy of spirits was considerably checked by +a report which had already spread over a great portion of the country, +that a very industrious and honest farmer, who lived within about four +miles of them, had been murdered in his own house the night before, by +a party of fellows disguised with blackened faces, and who wore shirts +over their clothes. The barbarous and brutal deed, in consequence of the +amiable and excellent character of the man--who had been also remarkable +for resolution and courage--had already excited an extraordinary +commotion throughout the country. + +“Boys,” said Purcel, “I have been in C------m this morning, and, I'm +sorry to say, there's bad news abroad.” + +“How is that, sir?” asked Alick,--“no violence, I hope; although I +wouldn't feel surprised if there were; the country is getting into a bad +state: I think myself the people are mad, absolutely mad.” + +“You both knew Matthew Murray,” he proceeded, “that lived down at +Rathkeerin?” + +“Certainly, father,” said John; “what about him?--no harm, I hope?” + +“He was murdered in his own house last night,” replied his father; “but +it's some consolation that one of the murdering villains is in custody.” + +“That is bad business, certainly,” replied John; “in fact, it's +dreadful.” + +“It is dreadful,” said the father; “but the truth is, we must have +the country, at least this part of it, proclaimed, and martial law +established;--damn the murdering scoundrels, nothing else is fit for +them. We must carry arms, boys, in future; and by d--n, the first man +I see looking at me suspiciously, especially from behind a hedge, I'll +shoot him. As a tithe-proctor I could do so without much risk.” + +“Not, father,” said Alick, “until he should first offer, or make an +attempt at violence.” + +“I would not, in the present state of the country, wait for it,” replied +the determined and now indignant proctor; “if I saw him watch me with +arms in his hands, or any dangerous weapon about his person, by d--n I'd +put a bullet through him, with no more remorse than I would through a +dog, and, if the animal were a good one, I think he would be the greater +public loss of the two.” + +Just at this moment, the females of the family, who had been giving +breakfast to a number of poor destitute creatures, made their +appearance. + +“Where have you all been?” asked Mrs. Purcel, addressing her husband +and sons; “here have we been waiting breakfast for you during the last +half-hour, and finding you were none of you within, we went and gave +these poor creatures without something to eat.” + +“Ay,” responded the angry proctor, “and it's not unlikely that the son, +or husband, or brother of some of them may take a slap at me or at one +of our sons, from behind a hedge, before these long nights pass off. +D--n me, but it's throwing pearls before swine, to show them either +kindness or charity.” + +“Something has angered you, papa,” said Mary; “I hope you have heard +nothing unpleasant; I am not very timid, but when a whole country is +in such a state of disturbance, one may entertain a reasonable +apprehension, certainly.” + +“Why, I am angry, Mary,” replied her father; “there's as decent and +quiet, but, at the same time, as spirited a man as there ever was in the +barony, murdered this morning--Mat Murray of Rathkeerin; however, as I +said, it's a great consolation that one of the murderers is in custody.” + +“And who is the wretch, papa?” asked Julia. + +“One that nobody ever could have suspected for such an act,” replied +Purcel--“a son of one of our own tenants--honest Michael Devlin's +son--James.” + +“Utterly impossible, father,” exclaimed Julia, “there must be a mistake; +that quiet and dutiful boy--their only son--never could have been +concerned in the crime of murder.” + +“Well, perhaps not, Judy; but, you silly girl, you talk as if you were +in love with him. Why, child, there is such a system abroad, now that a +man can scarcely trust his own brother--no, nor does a father know, when +he sits down to his breakfast in the morning with his own son, whether, +as Scripture says, he is not dipping his hand in the dish with a +murderer.” + +“Mat,” said his wife, “you ought not to be out late at night, nor the +boys either. You know there is a strong feeling against you; and indeed +I think you ought not, any of you, ever to go out without, arms about +you--at all events, until the country gets quiet.” + +“So I was just saying, Nancy,” replied her husband;--“hallo! who's this +coming up to the hall-door?--begad, our old pleasant friend, the _Cannie +Soogah_. Upon my troth, I'm glad to see him. Hallo! _Cannie!--Cannie +Soogah_, my hearty,--Jolly Pedlar, I say--this way! How are you, +man?--have you breakfasted? Of course not. Well, go to the kitchen and, +if you don't show good eating, it won't be for want of materials.” + +“God save you, Misther Purcel,” replied the pedlar, in a rich, round +brogue; “God save you, young gintlemen. Oh, thin, Misther Purcel, by +my sowl it's your four quarthers that has a right to be proud of your; +family! And the ladies--not forgettin' the misthress herself--devil the +likes of the same two young ladies I see on my whole bait, an' that's +the country at large, barrin' the barony of Bedhehusth, where these +cruel murdhers is committed; an' devil a foot I'll ever set into it till +it's changed for the betther.” + +“Well, be off,” said the proctor, “to the kitchen; get your breakfast +first, and then we'll chat to you.” + +“I will; but oh, Misther Purcel darlin', did you hear what happened last +night?” + +“Is it Murray's business?” + +“What do you call Murray's business, Misther Purcel? 'Tis Murray's +murdher, you mane?” + +“Certainly, I have heard it all this morning in C------m.” + +The pedlar only shook his head, looked upwards, and raising his two +hands so as to express amazement, exclaimed--“Well, well, what is the +world goin' to! troth, I'll not ate half my breakwist in regard of it!” + So saying he slung his huge pack upon his shoulder as if it had been a +mere bag of feathers, and took his way round to the kitchen as he had +been desired. + +The _Connie Soogah_, for so the people universally termed him, was in +person and figure a fine burly specimen of manhood. His hair was black, +as were a pair of large whiskers, that covered the greater portion of +his face, and nearly met at his chin. His arms and limbs were powerfully +made, and what is not always the case in muscular men, they betokened +great activity as well as unusual strength. Nobody, for instance, would +look without astonishment at the ease with which he swung a pack, that +was weighty enough to load an ass, over his shoulder, or the lightness +and agility with which he trotted on under it from morning till night, +and this during the very severest heat of summer. + +M'Carthy, on reaching O'Driscol's the night before, had come to the +conclusion of not making any allusion whatsoever to the incident which +had just occurred to him. O'Driscol, who was only a newly-fledged +magistrate, would, he knew, have made it the ground-work of a fresh +communication to government, or to his friend the Castle, as he called +it, especially as he had many other circumstances of less importance +since his elevation to the magistracy. One indeed would imagine that +the peace and welfare of that portion of the country had been altogether +left to his sole and individual management, and that nothing at all of +any consequence could get on properly in it without his co-operation +or interference in some way. For this reason, as well as for others, +M'Carthy prudently hesitated either to arouse his loyalty or disturb the +tranquility of his family, and after joining him in a tumbler of +punch, or what O'Driscol termed his nightcap, he retired to bed, where, +however, he could not for a considerable time prevent himself from +ruminating, with a good deal of seriousness, upon the extraordinary +interview he had had with the friendly stranger. + +After breakfast the next morning he resolved, however, to communicate to +his friends, the Purcels, who were at all events no alarmists, and would +not be apt to make him, whether he would or not, the instrument of a +selfish communication with the government, a kind of honor for which +the quiet and unassuming student had no relish whatsoever. He sauntered +towards the proctor's, at whose house he arrived a few minutes before +the return from the kitchen of our friend the Connie Soogah, who had +been treated there with an excellent and abundant breakfast, to which, +in spite of the murder of Murray, he did ample justice. + +“Now, Mr. Purcel,” he exclaimed, tossing down his pack as if it had been +a schoolboy's satchel, “by the lomenty-tarry you have made a new man of +me! Whoo!” he proceeded, cutting a caper more than a yard high, “show +me the man now, that would dar to say bow to your--beg pardon, ladies, +I must be jinteel for your sakes--that would dar, I say, to look crucked +at you or one a' your family, and maybe the Cannie Soogah wouldn't rise +the lap of his liver. Come, young ladies, shall I make my display? I +know you'll buy lot o' things and plenty besides; I can praise my goods, +thank God, for you see, Miss Mary, when the world comes to an end it'll +be found that the man who couldn't say three words for himself, and +one for his friend, must be sent down stairs to keep the fire in. Miss +Julia, I have a shawl here that 'ud make you look worse than you do.” + +“Worse, Cannie!” replied Julia, “do you call that a recommendation?” + +“Certainly, Miss Julia, you look so well that nothing on airth could +make you look batther, and by way of variety, I've gone to the Well +o' the world's end to get something to make you look worse. God knows +whether I've succeeded or not, but at all events, we'll thry.” + +So saying, he produced a very handsome shawl, together with a rather +large assortment of jewelry and other matters connected with the female +toilet, of considerable taste and expense. + +“Here,” he added, “are some cotton and silk stockins'--but upon my +profits, it's not to every foot an' leg I'd produce them. I'm a great +coortier, ladies, you must know, and am in love wid every purty girl I +meet--but sure that's only natural; however, as I was sayin', it's not +to a clype or a pair of smooth-in' irons I'll produce such stockins' as +these! No, no, but a purty foot an' leg is always sure to get the worth +o' their money from the Cannie Soogah!” + +“Well done, Cannie!” said the proctor, “dix me, but you're a pleasant +fellow--come girls, you must buy something--handsel him. You got no +handsel to-day, Cannie?” he added, winking at the pedlar to say no. + +“Barrin' the first foundation in the kitchen within,” he replied; “for +you must know that's what I call my breakfast, handsel of any kind +didn't cross my palm this day.” + +“In that case, the girls must certainly buy something,” added Purcel. + +“But we've no money, papa.” + +“But,” replied the pedlar, “you have what's betther--good credit with +the Cannie Soogah--och, upon my profits I'd rather have one sweet +coaxin' smile from that purty little mouth of yours, Miss Julia, than +money in hand any day! Ah! Misther Purcel, darlin', isn't it a poor +thing not to have an estate of ten thousand a year?” and here he looked +wistfully at the smiling Julia, and shrugged his shoulders like a man +who knew he was never likely to gain his wishes. + +“I would buy something,” said Mary, “but, like Julia, I am penniless.” + +“Never say so, Miss Mary, to me; only name what you'd like--lave the +price to my honesty, and the payment to my patience, and upon my profits +you won't complain, I'll go bail.” + +“Yes,” observed Julia, “or what if papa would treat us to something? +Come, papa, for the sake of old times; let us see whether you have +forgotten any of your former, craft.” + +“Good, Judy! ha! ha! ha!--well done! but Cannie, have you nothing for +the gentlemen?” + +Now, we must pause for a little to state, that the moment M'Carthy, who +was now present, heard the jolly pedlar's voice, he started, and felt +considerably surprise. The tones of it were neither familiar to him nor +yet were they strange. That he had heard them somewhere, and on some +occasion, he could almost have sworn. Occasionally a turn of the man's +voice would strike him as not being new to him, but again, for the next +minute or two, it was such as he could not remember to have ever heard. +This we say by way of parenthesis. + +“For the gentlemen! Lord help you, Mr. Purcel, I never think of them +when the ladies is before me--who would! However, I'm well prepared even +for them. Here is a case o' razors that 'ud cut half an inch before the +edge; now, if you find me another pair that'll do the seem--hem! +the same--I'll buy the Bank of Ireland and give it to you for a +new-year's-gift.” + +“Don't you know this gentleman?” asked the proctor, pointing to +M'Carthy. + +“Let me see,” said he--“we'll now--eh, no--I think not, he is neither +so well made, nor by any manes so well lookin' as the other;” and the +pedlar, as he spoke, fixed his eyes, but without seeming to gaze, upon +Julia, who, on hearing a comparison evidently so disadvantageous to +M'Carthy, blushed deeply, and passed to another part of the room, in +order to conceal what she felt must have been visible, and might have +excited observation. + +“No,” proceeded the pedlar; “I thought at first he was one of the +left-legge'd M'Squiggins's, as they call them, from Fumblestown--but +he is not, I know, for the raisons I said. They're a very good plain +family, the M'Squiggins's, only that nobody's likely to fall in love +wid them--upon my profits, I'm half inclined to think he's one of them +still--eh, let me see again--would you turn round a little, if you +plaise, sir, till I thry if the cast's in your eye. Upon my faith, there +it is sure enough! How are you, Misther M'Squiggins? I'm happy to see +you well, sir. How is your sisther, Miss Pugshey, an' all the family, +sir?--all well, I hope, sir?” + +“All well,” replied M'Carthy, laughing as loud as any of the rest, every +one of whom actually in convulsions--for they knew, with the exception +of Julia, who was deceived at first by the pedlar's apparent gravity, +that he was only bantering her lover. + +The proctor, who, although a man that loved money as his God--with his +whole heart, soul, and strength--was yet exceedingly anxious to stand +well with the world, and on this account never suffered a mere trifle +to stand between him and the means of acquiring a good name, and +having himself been considered a man of even of a benevolent spirit. +He consequently made some purchase from the pedlar, with whom he held +a very amusing and comic discussion, as touching the prices of many +articles in that worthy's; pack. Nay, he went so far as to give them a +good-humored exhibition of the secrets and peculiarities known only to +the initiated, and bought some small matters in the slang terms with +which none but the trade are acquainted. + +“Come, boys,” said he, “I have set you a good example; won't you buy +something from the jolly pedlar?” + +John and Alick bought some trifling things, and M'Carthy purchased +a pair of bracelets for the girls, which closed the sales for that +morning. + +“Well, now,” said the pedlar, whilst folding up again the goods which he +had displayed for sale, “upon my profits, Misther Purcel, it's a perfect +delight to me to call here, an' that whether I dale or not--although I'm +sure to do so always when I come. Well, you have all dealt wid me now +for payment, and here goes to give you something for nothing--an, in +truth, it's a commodity that, although always chape, is seldom taken. +'Tis called good advice. The ladies--God bless them, don't stand in need +of it, for sure the darlins' never did anything from Eve downwards, that +'ud require it. Here it is then, Misther Purcel, let you and your sons +do what the ould song says--'be good boys and _take care of yourselves. +Thighin thu?_ (*Do you understand.) An' this gintleman, if I knew his +name, maybe I'd say something to him too.” + +“This is Mr. M'Carthy, Cannie.” + +“Ay, M'Carthy--troth 'tis a good ould name. Well, Mr. M'Carthy, all I +have to say to you! is, that _if you happen to meet a man that gives you +good advice, TAKE IT_. An' now God be Wid you all, an' spare you to one +another!” + +So saying, he slung his huge pack over his shoulders almost without an +effort, and commencing a merry old Irish song he proceeded lightly and +cheerfully on his journey. + +“Well, boys,” said the proctor, “now that we've had a good hearty laugh +with the _Cannie Soogah_, let us proceed to business. I see by your red +coats and top-boots, that you're for the hounds to-day, but as I'm in a +hurry, I wish before you go, that you'd see those sneaking devils +that are hanging about the place. Hourigan is there again with fresh +falsehoods--don't be misled by him--the ill-looking scoundrel is right +well able to pay--and dix me if I'll spare him. Tell him he needn't +expect any further forbearance--a rascal that's putting money in the +saving's bank to be pleadin' poverty! It's too bad. But the truth is, +boys, there's no one behind in their tithes now entitled to forbearance, +and for the same reason they must pay or take the consequences; we'll +see whether they or the law will prove the strongest, and that very +soon. Good-bye, boys; good-bye, M'Carthy--and I say, Jack and Alick, be +on your sharps and don't let them lads do you--d'ye mind now?--keen's +the word.” + +He then got on his comfortable jaunting-car, and drove off to wait, +according to appointment, upon the Rev. Jeremiah Turbot, D.D. + +“Mogue Moylan,” said John, “will you go out and tell them fellows that I +and Alick will be in the office presently--and do you hear? tell them +to look like men, and not so much like murderers that came to take our +lives. Say we'll be in the office presently, and that we hope it's not +excuses they're fetching us.” + +“I will, Misther John; but, troth, it's the worst word in their cheek +they'd give me, if I deliver the last part of your message. 'Tis my head +in my fist I'd get, maybe; however, Misther John, between you an' me, +they're an ill-looking set, one an' all o' them, an' could pay their +tides, every tail o' them, if they wished.” + +“I know that very well,” replied the young fellow, “but my father's not +the man to be trifled with. We'll soon see whether they or the law's the +strongest; that's all.” + +Moylan went over to where the defaulters were standing, and putting up +his hand, he stroked down his cheek with great gravity. “Are yez in a +hurry, good people?” said he. + +“Some of us is,” replied a voice. + +“Ay, all of us,” replied others; “and we're here now for an hour and a +half, and no sign of seein' us.” + +“Yez are in a hurry, then?” + +“To be sure we are.” + +“Well, to them that's in a hurry I've a word to say.” + +“What is it, Mogue?” + +“Why, it is this, take your time--ever an' always, when you happen to be +in a hurry--take your time.” + +“Maybe, Mogue,” they replied, “if you were widout your breakfast, as we +are, you wouldn't say so.” + +“Why, did'nt yez get your breakfasts yet?” + +“Devil a morsel.” + +“Well, to them that didn't get their breakfasts I have another word to +say.” + +“What is it, Mogue?” + +“Why, have patience--ever and always when you're hungry, have patience, +and you'll find it a great relief; it'll fill you and keep you in good +condition--that I mayn't sin but it will! But, sure, I've got news for +yez, boys,” he added; “Masther John bid me tell you that, after about +a month or so it'll be contrary to law to get hungry: there's an act +o' parliament goin' to be made against it, you see; so that any villain +disloyal enough to get hungry, if it's proved against him, will be +liable to transportation. That I mayn't sin but it'll be a great +comfort for the country--I mane, to have hunger made contrary to act o' +parliament.” + +Mogue Moylan was, indeed, a fellow of a very original and peculiar +character. Grave, sly, and hypocritical, yet apparently quiet and not +susceptible of strong or vehement emotions, he was, nevertheless, more +suggestive of evil designs and their fulfilment than any man, perhaps, +in his position of life that ever existed. Though utterly without +spirit, or the slightest conception of what personal courage meant, the +reader not be surprised that he was also vindictive, and consequently +treacherous and implacable. He could project crime and outrage with a +felecity of diabolical invention that was almost incredible. He was, +besides, close and cautious, unless when he thought that he could risk a +falsehood with safety; and, in the opinion of some few who knew him, +not merely dishonest, but an actual thief. His manner, too, was full +of plausible assumption of great conscientiousness and simplicity. He +seemed always calm and cool, was considered rather of a religious turn, +and always expressed a strong horror against cursing or swearing in any +shape. Indeed he had a pat anecdote, which he occasionally told, of +a swoon or faint into which he usually fell, when a youth of about +nineteen, in consequence of having been forced to take a book oath, +for the first time, another act against which he entertained a peculiar +antipathy. Now, all this was indeed very singular and peculiar; but he +accounted for it by the scrupulous love of truth with which not only +he himself, but his whole family, many of whom he said had given their +lives for their country, were affected. The only foible that could be +brought to the charge of honest Mogue, was a singular admiration for his +own visage, which he never omitted to survey with remarkable complacency +several times a day in a broken piece of looking, glass, which he kept +for that especial purpose. This, and its not unnatural consequences +a belief that almost ever female who spoke to him with civility was +smitten by his face and figure, constituted the only two weaknesses in +a character otherwise so spotless and perfect as that of Mogue Moylan. +Mogue was also a good deal subject to the influence of the pathetic, +especially when he alluded to the misfortune, glory be to God, which +had befallen the family, in the person of a lone line of ancestors, and +especially in that of big poor, simple father, whose word, as every +one knew, was as good as his oath; and, indeed, very few doubted that +remarkable fact, but who, notwithstanding had been transported during +the space of seven years for suspicion of perjury; “for didn't the judge +tell him, when he passed sentence upon him, that if he had been found +guilty all out, or of anything beyant suspicion of it, he would be +transported for life; 'an' instead of that,' said the judge, 'bekaise +I persave,' says he, 'that you're an honest man, an' has been sworn +against wrongfully in this business, and bekaise I see clearly that you +love the truth, the sentence of the coort is,' says he, sheddin' tears, +'that you're to be transported only for seven years, an' you lave +the coort an' the counthry,' says he, 'widout at stain upon your +character--it's only the law that's against you--so, God be wid you,' +the judge went on, wipin' his eyes, 'and grant you a safe and pleasant +voyage acrass,' says he, an' he cried for some minutes like a child. +That an' the unjust hangin' of my poor, simple ould grandfather for +horse-stearin'--that is, for suspicion of horse-stealin'--is the only +two misfortunes, thank God, that has been in our family of late days.” + +So much for the character of worthy Mogue, whom we must now permit to +resume the delivery of his message. + +The last words were uttered with so peculiar and significant a gravity, +not without a good deal of dry sarcastic humor, that the men could not +avoid laughing heartily. + +“But,” he proceeded, “I have better news still for yez. Sure Masther +John desired me to let you all know that his father won't ax a penny o' +tithe from one o' yez: all you have to do is to call at the office there +in a few minutes, and you'll get aich o' you a receipt in full; (* +By this he means a horse-whipping.) that is, if you don't keep civil +tongues in your heads.” + +One of Mogue's qualities was the power of gravely narrating a fact with +such peculiar significance, that the very reverse of it was conveyed to +the hearer; for the fellow was a perfect master of irony. + +“Ah! well done Mogue; many a day o' reckoning _he_ has had wid _us_, but +maybe _our_ day o' reckonin' wid _him_ will come sooner than he expects, +or wishes.” + +“Don't be thinkin' ill,” said Mogue, “but keep yourselves always free +from evil. What does Scripthur say? 'One good turn desarves another,' +says Scripthur. Boys, always keep Scripthur before you, and you'll do +right. 'One good turn deserves another,' says Scripthur! and you know +yourselves, I hope, that many a good turn you received at his hands. +That I may be happy, but it's good advice I'm givin' you!” + +“Divil a betther, Mogue,” replied Hourigan, with a significant scowl, +and “it's we ourselves that'll be sure to take it some fine night.” + +“Night or day,” replied Mogue, “it's always right to be doin' good, +whether we sarve our country or religion. God prosper yez, at all +events, and grant you success in your endeavors, an' that's the worst I +wish you! There now, Masther John's in the office, ready an' willin' to +give sich o' yez a resate in full as will--desarve it.” + +The situation in which the parties stood, during this dialogue, was at +the rear of the premises into which the proctor's office opened, and +where the country people were always desired to wait. They stood at the +end of the stable, adjoining a wall almost eight feet high, on the +other side of which was the pig-sty. Here, whilst the conversation just +detailed went forward, stood a pretty, plump-looking, country-girl, +one of the female servants of the proctor's establishment, named Letty +Lenehan. She had come to feed the pigs, just in time to catch the +greater portion of their conversation; and, as she possessed a tolerably +clear insight into Mogue's character, she was by no means ignorant +of certain illusions made in it, although she unquestionably did not +comprehend its full drift. We have said that this girl understood his +character very well, and scarcely any one had a better right or greater +opportunities of doing so. Mogue, in fact, was in love with her, or +at least, pretended to be so; but, whether he was or not, one thing we +write as certain, that he most implicitly believed her to be so +with himself. Letty was a well-tempered, faithful girl, honest and +conscientious, but not without a considerable relish for humor, and with +more than ordinary talents for carrying on either a practical joke or +any other piece of harmless humbug, a faculty in which she was ably +supported by a fellow-servant of a very different description from +Mogue, named Jerry Joyce. Joyce, in fact, was not merely a strong +contrast to Mogue, but his very reverse in almost every point of his +character. He was open and artless in the opinion of many, almost to +folly; but, under this apparent thoughtlessness, there existed a fund of +good sense, excellent feeling, and quickness of penetration, for which +the world gave him no credit, or at least but very little. + +Jerry and Letty, therefore, between whom a real affection subsisted, +were in the habit of amusing themselves, whenever they could do so +without discovery, at Mogue's expense. Such, then, was the relative +position of these parties at the present stage of our narrative. + +When John Purcel was seen in the office, the tithe defaulters, for such +they were, went to the outside of the window, where they all stood until +it became the turn of each to go in. Although they went there to plead +their inability to pay, yet, in fact, there were a great proportion of +them who exhibited, neither by their manner nor appearance, any symptom +whatever of poverty. On the countenances of most of them might be +read, not only a stern, gloomy, and resolute expression, but one of +dissatisfaction and bitter resentment. As they turned their eyes upon +young Purcel, and looked around at the unequivocal marks of great +wealth, if not luxury itself, that were conspicuous in every direction, +there was a significance in the smiles and glances which passed between +them, that gave very appropriate foretaste of the convulsions which ere +long took place in the country. John Purcel himself had remarked these +appearances on almost every recent occasion, and it was the striking, or +rather startling, aspect of these men, that caused him to allude to it +just before sending Moylan to them. + +It is not our intention to detail, at full length, the angry +altercations which took place between them, as each went in, from time +to time, to apologize for not paying up his tithes. Every possible +excuse was offered; but so well and thoroughly were Purcel and his sons +acquainted with the circumstances, of, we may say, almost every family, +not merely in the parish, but in the barony itself, that it proved a +matter of the greatest difficulty to mislead or impose on any of them. +Nay, so anxious did the shrewd tithe-proctor feel upon this subject, +that he actually got himself proposed and elected a governor of +the Savings' Bank, which had been for some time past established in +C------m. By this means, he was enabled to know that many of those who +came to him with poverty on their lips, were actually lodging money in +these economical institutions. + +“Well, Carey,” said he, to a comfortable-looking man that entered, “I +hope you have no further apology to offer for your dishonesty?” + +“Sorra thing, Mr. John, but that I'm not able to pay. I expect the +landlord to come down upon me some o' these days--and what to do, or on +what hand to turn, I'm sure I don't know on airth.” + +“You don't say so now, Carey?” + +“Troth I do, Misther John; and I hope you'll spare me for a little--I +mane till the hard times that's in it mends somehow.” + +“Well, Carey, all I can say is, that, if you don't know on what hand to +turn, I can tell you.” + +“Thank you, Misther John; troth an' I do want to know that.” + +“Listen, then; before you come here to me with a barefaced and dishonest +lie in your mouth, you ought to have gone to the C------m Savings' Bank, +and drawn from the sum of two hundred and seventy-three pounds, +which you have lying there, the slight sum of seven pounds twelve and +nine-pence which you owe us. Now, Carey, I tell you that you are nothing +but an impudent, scheming, dishonest scoundrel; and I say, once for all, +that we will see whether you, and every knavish rascal like you, or the +law of the land, is the stronger. Mark me now, you impudent knave, we +shall never ask you again. The next time you see us will be at the head +of a body of police, or a party of the king's troops; for I swear that, +as sure as, the sun shines, so certainly will we take the tithe due out +of your marrow, if we can get it nowhere else.” + +“Maybe, then,” said Carey, “you will find that we'll laugh at the law, +the polis, the king's troops, and Misther John Purcel into the bargain; +and I now tell you to your teeth, that if one sixpence of tithe would +save the sowls of every one belongin' to you, I won't pay it--so do your +worst, and I defy you.” + +“Begone, you scoundrel. You are, I perceive, as rank a rebel as ever +missed the rope; but you won't miss it. Go home now; for, as I said this +moment, we will take the tithe out of your marrow, if you had thousands +of your cut-throat and cowardly White-boys at your back. Don't think +this villainy will pass with us; we know how to handle you, and will too; +begone, you dishonest ruffian, I have no more time to lose with you.” + +In this manner almost every interview terminated. Purcel was a warm and +impetuous young fellow, who certainly detested everything in the shape +of dishonesty or deceit and here he had too many instances of both to be +able to keep his temper, especially when he felt that he and his family +were the sufferers. Other cases, however, were certainly very dissimilar +to this; we allude especially to those of real distress, where the means +of meeting the demand were not to be had. With such individuals the +proctor's sons were disposed to be lenient, which is certainly more than +could be said if he himself had to deal with them. + +“Jemmy Mulligan,” he said, to a poor-looking man, “go home to your +family. We don't intend to take harsh measures with you, Jemmy; and you +needn't come here again till we send for you.” + +“God bless you, sir; troth I don't know why the people say that you're +all hard and unfeelin'--I can say for myself that I never found you so. +Good morning, sir, and thank you, Misther John; and God forgive them +that blackens you as they do!” + +“Yes, Jemmy, I know they hate us, because we compel them to act +honestly; but they will soon find that honesty, after all, is the +cheapest course,--for we shall take d--d good care to make them +pay through the nose for their knavery. We know they have a gang of +firebrand agitators and hungry lawyers at their back; but we shall make +them feel that the law is stronger than any treasonable combination that +can be got up against it.” + +A third man came in. “Well, Tom, you're not coming to plead poverty, I +hope?” + +The man looked around him with peculiar intelligence. “Are we safe?” he +asked; “and may I spake widout danger?” + +“You may, Duggan.” + +“Well, then, I came to say that I'll call over to-morrow evenin' and pay +it, but I daren't now.” + +“Why so, Tom?” + +“Bekaise the most of us all have the tithe in our pockets, but as a +proof that we did not pay it, we will, every man of us, be obliged to +show it before we go home. I might pay it now, Mr. Purcel; but then, if +I did, it' very likely I'd be a corpse before this day week. Sich is the +state that things ha' come to; and how it'll end, God only knows. At any +rate, I'll slip over afther dusk to-morrow evenin' and pay; but as +you hope for mercy, and don't wish to see me taken from my wife and +childre', don't breathe a syllable of it to man or mortual.” + +“I shall not, indeed, Tom,” replied Purcel, “but I really did not think +that matters were altogether so bad as you describe them. The people +are infatuated, and will only draw the vengeance of the law upon their +heads. They will suffer, as they always do by their own misconduct and +madness.” + +Duggan had scarcely withdrawn, when our old friend, Darby Hourigan, +thrust in his hateful and murderous-looking countenance. “God save you, +Misther John.” + +“God save you kindly, Misther Hourigan.” + +“Isn't it glorious weather for the saison, sir?” + +“I have seen better and I have seen worse, Mr. Hourigan; but Darby, +passing the weather by, which neither you nor I can mend, allow me to +say that I hope you are not coming here for the twentieth time to palm +us off about the tithe.” + +“Troth, then, and, Mr. John; I can't afford to pay tide--I'm a poor man, +sir; and, as it happens that I never trouble the parson in religious +matthers, I don't see what right the parson has to trouble me for my +money.” + +“Ah! you have got the cant, I see. You have been tutored.” + +“I have got the truth, sir.” + +“Ay, but have you got the tithe, sir? for I do assure you, Mr. Hourigan, +that it is not your logic, but your money I want.” + +“Begad, sir, and I'm afeard you'll be forced to put up wid my logic this +time, too. You can't take more from the cat than her skin, you know.” + +There was an atrocious and sneering spirit, not only in this ruffian's +manner, but in the tones of his voice, that was calculated to overcome +human patience. + +“Darby, we have let you run a long time, but I now tell you, there's an +end of our forbearance so far as you are concerned. If you were not able +to pay I could feel for you, put we know, and all the world knows, that +you are one of the most comfortable and independent men in the parish. +Darby, you in short are a d--d rogue, and what is worse, a treacherous +and mischief-makin scoundrel. I am aware of the language you use against +our whole family, whom you blacken whenever you have an opportunity of +doing so. You are not only dishonest but ungrateful, sirrah.” + +“No man has a betther right to be a judge, and a good judge of +dishonesty, than your father's son,” replied Hourigan. “Why didn't you +call me an oppressor of the poor, and a blood-sucker?--why didn't you +say I was a hard-hearted beggarly upstart, that rose from maneness and +cheatery, and am now tyrannizin' over hundreds that's a thousand times +betther than myself? Why don't you say that I'd sell my church and my +religion to their worst enemies, and that for the sake of filthy lucre +and blackguard upstart pride? I now come to tell you what we all think +of you in this country, and what I believe some of us has tould you +already--that you may go to hell for your tithe, and make the divil your +paymaster, what he'll be yet. We will pay you none, and we set you and +your upstart ould rogue of a father, with the law, the polis, and the +army, all at defiance. I don't choose to say more, but I could if I +liked.” + +Purcell's hunting-whip accidentally lay on the table at which he sat, +but he did not take it up immediately after Hourigan had concluded. He +quickly rose, however, and having closed the door and locked it, he let +down the windows, and deliberately drew the blinds. + +“Now, you scoundrel,” he replied, taking up the whip, and commencing to +flog Hourigan with all his strength, which was very great, “I will give +you, by way of foretaste, a specimen of what a ruffian like you deserves +when he is insolent.” + +With such singular energy, good will, and admirable effect did he lace +Mr. Hourigan, that the latter worthy, after cutting some very antic +capers, and exhibiting in a good many other respects several proofs of +his agility that could scarcely be expected from his heavy and ungainly +figure, was at last fairly obliged to sing out,--“Oh, Misther John, +Misther John! you will--Misther John, darlin', what do you mane, you +murdh--oh, oh, d--n your soul--dear, what do you mane, Mr. John, dear? +I say, what are you at? What do you baste me this way for--oh, may the +divil--the Lord bless you, an' don't--here I am--here, Misther John, +I ax your pardon--hell pursue--Misther John, darlin', I go down on my +knees to you, an' axes your pardon--here now you see, I'm down.--Och +murdher, am I to have the very sowl welted out o' me this way?” + +Mr. John, having now satisfied himself, and left very visible marks of +his attachment and good will to Hourigan, upon that individual's face +and person, desired him to get up. + +“Now, my good fellow,” he exclaimed, “I trust I have taught you a lesson +that you won't forget.” + +“No, Misther John,” he replied, rising and rubbing himself in different +parts of the body, as if to mitigate the pain which he felt; “no, I +won't forget it--I won't by it's a lesson I'll remember, and so will +you.” + +“What do you mean, you cowardly villain?” asked Purcel, once more +raising his whip. “You are threatening, are you.” + +“No, Misther John, not a bit o' that--divil a threat--me! I wouldn't +threaten you if there wasn't niver another man in Europe. Let me out, if +you plaise--let me out, and may the div--the Lord lov you!” + +“Now,” said the other, raising the blinds and afterwards opening the +door, “you may go about your business, and mark me, Mr Hourigan--” + +“I do, sir,” replied the other, bolting out “oh, God knows I do--you +have marked me, Misther Purcel, and I will mark you, sir--for--” he +added muttering in a low voice to those who stood about him--“one good +turn desarves another, anyhow.” + +We shall not now dwell upon the comments which young Purcel's violence +drew from the defaulters on their way home. Our reader, however, may +easily imagine them, and form for themselves a presentiment of the +length to which “the tithe insurrection,” as they termed it, was likely +to proceed throughout the country at large, with the exception only of +the northern provinces. + + + + +CHAPTER V.--A Hang-Choice Shot--The “Garrison” on Short Commons. + + +When our merry friend the pedlar left the proctor's parlor, he proceeded +at a brisk pace in the direction of the highway, which, however, was not +less than three-quarters of a mile from Longshot Lodge, which was the +name Purcel had given to his residence. He had only got clear of the +offices, however, and was passing the garden wall, which ran between him +and the proctor's whole premises, when he was arrested by Mogue Moylan. + +“Ah! merry Mogue,” exclaimed the pedlar, ironically, “I was missin' you. +Where were you, my cherub?” + +“I was in the barn 'ithin,” replied Mogue, “just offerin' up a little +pathernavy for the protection o' this house and place, and of the +daicent, kind-hearted peeople that's in it.” + +“An', as a joint prayer, they say, is worth ten single ones, I suppose,” + returned the pedlar,--laying his fingers on his lips and winking--“you +had--ahem--you understand?” + +“No, thin,” replied Mogue, brightening up with excessive vanity, “may I +be happy if I do!” + +“Why, our fair friend, Letty Lenehan--begad, Mogue, she's a purty girl +that--says she to herself,” proceeded the pedlar; “for I don't think she +knew or thought I heard her--'If I thought he would like these rib-bons, +I'd buy them for myself.' 'Who do you mane, acushla?' says I, whisperin' +to her. 'Who,' says she, 'but--but Mogue himself--only honor bright, Mr. +Magrath' says she, 'sure you wouldn't betray me?' 'Honor bright again,' +says I, 'I'm not the stuff a traitor's made of;' and so you see we both +laughed heartily, bekaise we understood one another. Mogue,” proceeded +the other, “will you answer me the truth in one thing?” + +“If I can I will, Misther Magrath. + +“I know ye will, bekaise you can,” replied, the pedlar; “how do you come +round the girls at all? how do you make them fond o' you? I want you to +tell me that, if it's not a family saicret.” + +Mogue gravely drew his fingers and thumb down his thin yellow jaws, +until they met under his chin, and replied-- + +“It can't be tould, Misther Magrath; some men the women's naturally +fond of, and some men they can't bear--throth it's like a freemason's +saicret, if you wor a man that the women wor naturally fond of you'd +know it yoarself, but not bein' that, Mr. Magrath, you could not +understand it. It's born wid one, an' troth, a troublesome gift it +is--for it is a gift--at least, I find it so. There's no keep in' the +crathurs oft o' you.” + +“Begad, you must be a happy man, Mogue. I wish I was like you--but +whisper, man alive, why don't you look higher. + +“How is that?” asked the other, now apparently awakened to a new +interest. + +“Mogue,” said the pedlar, with something like solemnity of manner, “you +and I are both embarked in the same ship, you know--we know how things +are to go. I'm now provin' to you that I'm your friend. Listen, you +passed through the back-yard to-day while I was in the parlor wid the +family sellin' my goods as well as I could. Well, Miss Julia had a +beautiful shawl about her purty shoulders, and as she seen you passin, +she started, kept her eyes fixed upon you till you disappeared, and +then, afther thinkin 'or some time, she sighed deeply. Whisper, the +thing flashed upon me--that's that, thought I, at any rate--and devil +a doubt of it, you're safe there, or my name's not Andy Magrath, better +known as the Cannie Soogah-Hurra, Mogue, more power!” + +A richer comic study than Mogue's face ould not possibly be depicted. +His thin craggy jaws--for cheeks he had none--were winkled and puckered +into such a multiplicity of villanous folds and crevices, as could +scarcely be paralleled on a human countenance; and what added to the +ludicrous impression made, was the fact that he endeavored to look--and, +in fact, did so successfully--more like a man who felt that a secret +long known to himself had been discovered, than a person to whom the +intelligence had come for the first time. + +“An' Misther Magrath,” he replied, once more repeating the survey of his +puckered laws; “is it by way of information that you tould me that? That +I mayn't sin, but you should be ever and always employed in carryin' +coals to, Newcastle. Troth, since you have broached\the thing, I've +known it this good while, and no one could tell you more about it, if +I liked. Honor bright, however, as poor Letty said, troth, I pity that +girl--but what can I do? no--no--honor bright, for ever!” + +“Well, anyhow, now that we've thrown light upon what I noticed a while +ago, let us talk about other matters. The house is still well armed and +guarded, you say?” + +“That I may die in grace, but it 'ud take me half an hour to reckon all +the guns, pistols, and blunderbushes they have freshly loaded in the +house every night.” + +“Well, couldn't you assist us, you in the house?” + +“No--for I'm not in the house; they wouldn't allow any servant to sleep +in the house for fear o' traichery, and they say so. If they'd let me +sleep in the house, it 'ud be another thing; I might wet the powdher, +and make their fire-arms useless; but sure they have lots of swords and +bagnets, and daggers, and other instruments o' that kind that 'ud skiver +one like a rabbit.” + +“Well, but you know all the outs and ins of the house, the rooms and +passages, and everything that way so thoroughly, that one could depend +upon your account of them.” + +“Depend upon them--ay, as well as you might upon the Gospel itself;--she +was fond of M'Carthy, they say, and they think she is still; but, _be +dhu husth_, (* Hold your tongue.) there's one that knows betther. You +don't like M'Carthy?” + +“To be sure I do, as the devil does holy wather.” + +“Well,” proceeded Mogue, “I've a thing in my head about him--but sure +he's in the black list as it is.” + +“Well, what is it you have in your head about him?” + +Mogue shook it, but added, “Never mind, I'll think it over again, and +when I'm made up on it, maybe I'll tell you. Don't we meet on this day +week?” + +“Sartainly, will you come?” + +“I intend it, for the truth is, Misther Magrath, that the Millstone must +be broke; that I may die in pace, but it must, an' any one that stands +in the way of it must suffer. May I be happy, but they must.” + +The pedlar looked cautiously about him, and seeing that the coast was +clear and no person visible, he thrust a letter into his hand, adding, +“you may lave it in some place where the ould chap, or either of the +sons, will be sure to find it. Maybe it'll tache them a little more +civility to their neighbors.” + +Mogue looked at the document, and placing it securely in his pocket, +asked, “Is it a notice?” + +The other nodded in the affirmative, and added, with a knowing wink, +“There's a coffin and a cross-bones in it, and the name is signed +wid real blood, Mogue; and that's the way to go about breakin' the +Millstone, my man.” + +“That I may never do an ill turn, but it is. Well, God bless you, +Misther Magrath, an' whisper now, don't forget an odd patther-anavy +goin' to bed, in hopes that God will prosper our honest endayvours. That +was a hard thing upon young Devlin in Murray's murdher. I'm not sure +whether you do, but I know that that act was put upon him through +ill-will; and now he'll hang for it. But sure it's one comfort that +he'll die a martyr, glory be to God!” + +The pedlar, having assented to this, got on his pack, and leaving Mogue +to meditate on the new discovery which he had made respecting Julia +Purcel, he proceeded on towards the highway to which we have alluded. + +Purcel himself, in the course of a few miles' drive, reached the +parsonage, in which the Rev. Jeremiah Turbot ought to have lived, but in +which, for several years past, he had not resided; if we except about a +fortnight twice a year, when he came to sweep off as weighty a load of +tithes as he could contrive to squeeze out of the people through worthy +Mat Purcel, his proctor. + +For a year or two previous to this visit, there is no doubt but the +aspect of ecclesiastical affairs was gradually getting worse. Turbot +began to feel that there was something wrong, although he could not +exactly say what it was. Purcel, however, was by no means reluctant to +disclose to him the exceedingly desperate state to which not only had +matters been driving, but at which they had actually arrived. This, in +truth, was our worthy proctor's version of ecclesiastical affairs, for +at least two years before the present period of our narrative. But, like +every man who tampers with, simple truth, he began to perceive, +almost when it was too late, that his policy in antedating the tithe +difficulties was likely very soon to embarrass himself; and to deprive +the outrages resulting from the frightful opposition that was organized +against tithes of all claim to novelty. He had, in fact, so strongly +exaggerated the state of the country, and surcharged his pictures of +anti-tithe violence so much beyond all truth and reality, that when the +very worst and most daring organization did occur, he could do nothing +more than go over the same ground again. The consequence was, that +worthy Turbot, so long habituated to these overdrawn narratives, began +to look upon them as the friends of the boy who shouted out “wolf!” did +upon the veracity of his alarms. He set down his intrepid and courageous +proctor as nothing else than a cowardly poltroon, whose terrors +exaggerated everything, and whose exaggerated accounts of fraud, +threats, and violence had existed principally in his own imagination. +Such were the circumstances under which Purcel and Dr. Turbot now met. + +The worthy rector of Ballysoho was a middle-sized man, with coal-black +hair, brilliant, twinkling eyes of the same color, and as pretty a +double chin as ever graced the successor of an apostle. Turbot was by +no means an offensive person; on the contrary, he must of necessity have +been very free from evil or iniquity of any kind, inasmuch as he never +had time to commit sin. He was most enthusiastically addicted to hunting +and shooting, and felt such a keen and indomitable relish for the good +things of this world, especially for the luxuries of the table, that +what between looking after his cuisine, attending his dogs, and enjoying +his field sports, he scarcely ever might be said to have a single day +that he could call his own. And yet, unreasonable people expected that a +man, whose daily occupations were of such importance to--himself, should +very coolly forego his own beloved enjoyments in order to attend to the +comforts of the poor, with whom he had scarcely anything in common. Many +other matters of a similar stamp were expected from him, but only +by those who had no opportunity of knowing the multiplicity of his +engagements. Such persons were unreasonable enough to think that he +ought to have occasionally appropriated some portion of his income to +the relief of poverty and destitution, but as he said himself, he could +not afford it. How could any man afford it who in general lived up to, +and sometimes beyond, his income, and who was driven to such pinches +as not unfrequently to incur the imputation of severity and oppression +itself, by the steps he was forced to take or sanction for the recovery +of his tithes. + +In person he was, as we have said, about or somewhat under the middle +size. In his gait he was very ungainly. When walking, he drove forward +as if his head was butting or boring its way through a palpable +atmosphere, keeping his person, from the waist up, so far in advance +that the _a posteriori_ portion seemed as if it had been detached from +the other, and was engaged in a ceaseless but ineffectual struggle to +regain its position; or, in shorter and more intelligible words, the +latter end of him seemed to be perpetually in pursuit of his head and +shoulders, without ever being able to overtake them. Whilst engaged in +maintaining this compound motion, his elbows and arms swung from right +to left, and vice versa, very like the movements of a weaver throwing +the shuttle from side to side. Turbot had one acknowledged virtue in a +pre-eminent degree, we mean hospitality. It is true he gave admirable +dinners, but it would be a fact worth boasting of, to find any man at +his table who was not able to give, and who did give, better dinners +than himself. The doctor's face, however, in spite of his slinging and +ungainly person, was upon the whole rather good. His double chin, and +the full, rosy expression of his lips and mouth, betokened, at the very +least, the force of luxurious habits, and, as a hedge school-master +of our acquaintance used to say, the smallest taste in life of +voluptuousity; whilst from his black, twinkling eyes, that seemed always +as if they were about to herald a jest, broke forth, especially when he +conversed with the softer sex, something which might be considered +as holding a position between a laugh and a leer. Such was the Rev. +Jeremiah Turbot, to whom we shall presently take the liberty of +introducing the reader. + +The parsonage, to which our friend Purcel is now making his approach, +was an excellent and comfortable building. It stood on a very pretty +eminence, and consequently commanded a beautiful prospect both in front +and rear; for the fact was, that in consequence of the beauty of the +scenery for miles about it, some incumbent of good taste had given it a +second hall door, thus enabling the inhabitants to partake of a double +enjoyment, by an equal facility of contemplating the exquisite scenery +of the country both in front and rear. A beautiful garden lay facing the +south, and a little below, in the same direction, stood a venerable old +rookery, whilst through the rich, undulating fields flowed, in graceful +windings, a beautiful river, on whose green and fertile banks sheep and +black cattle were always to be seen, sometimes feeding or chewing the +cud in that indolent repose which gives to the landscape, in the golden +light of a summer's evening, such a poetical and pastoral effect. + +Purcel, on coming in sight of the parsonage, instead of keeping his +horse to the rapid pace at which he had driven him along until then, now +drew him up, and advanced at a rate which seemed to indicate anything +but that of a man whose spirits were cheerful or free from care. On +reaching the front entrance he discounted very slowly, and with a solemn +and melancholy air, walked deliberately, step by step, till he stood +at the hall door, where he gave a knock so spiritless, depressed and +disconsolate, that it immediately communicated itself, as was intended, +to the usually joyful and rosy countenance of the rector, who surveyed, +his agent as if he expected to hear that he either had lost, or was +about to lose, half his family or the whole of his wealth. + +“How do you do, Purcel?--eh, what's this? Is there anything wrong? You +look very much dejected--what's the matter? Sit down.” + +“Thank you, sir; but I really do not think I am well--at least my +spirits are a great deal depressed; but indeed, Dr. Turbot, a man must +be more or less than a man to be able to keep up his spirits in such +times.” + +“Oh! ho, my worthy proctor, is that all? Thank you for nothing, Purcel. +I understand you; but you ought to know I am not to be caught now by +your 'calamities'.” + +“My calamities! I declare to goodness, Dr. Turbot, I could rest +contented if they were nobody's calamities but my own; unfortunately, +however, you are as deep in them as I am, and in a short time, God +knows, we will be a miserable pair, I fear.” + +“Not at all, Purcel--this is only the old story. Raw-heads and +bloody-bones coming to destroy the tithes, and eat up the parsons. Let +me see--it is now three years since you commenced these 'lamentations.'” + +“Three years ago; why we had peace and quietness then compared to what +we have at present,” replied Purcel. + +“And what have we now, pray?” + +“Why, sir, the combinations against tithes is quite general over the +whole country.” + +“Well; so was it then upon your own showing. Go on.” + +“As I said, sir, it was nothing at that time. There is little now but +threatening notices that breathe of blood and murder.” + +“Very good; so was it then upon your own showing. Go on.” + +“But of late, sir, lives have been taken. Clergymen have been threatened +and fired at.” + +“Very good; so was it then upon you! own showing. Go on, I say.” + +“Fired at I say, and shot, sir. The whole White boy system has turned +itself into a great tithe conspiracy. The farmers, the landholders +of all descriptions, the cottiers, the daily laborers, and the very +domestic servants, have all joined this conspiracy, and sworn neither to +pay tithes themselves nor to allow others to pay them. They compare the +established church to a garrison; and although the law prevents them +from openly destroying it by force, they swear that they'll starve it +out.” + +“Eh!” said Turbot, starting, “what's that you say? Starve us out! What +an infamous and unconstitutional project! What a diabolical procedure! +But I forgot--bravo, Purcel! This was all the case before upon your own +showing.” + +“Well, sir,” returned Purcel, “there was at least this difference, that +I was able to get something out of them then, but devil a copper can +I get out o' them now. I think you'll admit, sir, that this fact gives +some weight to my argument.” + +“You don't mean to say, Purcel,” replied the other, from whose chin the +rosy tint gradually paled away until it assumed that peculiar hue which +is found inside of a marine shell, that is to say, white with a dream +of red barely and questionably visible; “you don't mean to say, my good +friend Purcel, that you have no money for me on this occasion?” + +“By no means, sir,” replied the proctor. “Money I have got for you, no +doubt--money I have got certainly.” + +The double chin once more assumed its natural hue of celestial rosy +red.” + +“Upon my honor, Purcel,” he replied, “I have not temper for this; it +seems to me that you take particular delight in wantonly tampering with +my feelings. I am really quite tired of it. Why harass and annoy me with +your alarms? Conspiracy, blood, and massacre are the feeblest terms in +your vocabulary. It is absolutely ridiculous, sir, and I beg you will +put an end to it.” + +“I would be very glad to do so, sir,” replied Purcel; “and still more +satisfied if I had never had anything to do with the temporalities of +your church.” + +“I don't see why, above all men living, you should say so, Purcel; you +have feathered your nest tolerably well by the temporalities of our +church.” + +“If I have, sir,” replied the proctor, “it has been at the expense of my +popularity and good name. I and my family are looked upon as a part and +parcel of your system, and, I may add, as the worst and most odious +part of it. I and they are looked upon as the bitterest enemies of the +people; and because we endeavor to get out of them the means of enabling +you to maintain your rank in the world, we are obliged to hear +ourselves branded every day in the week as villains, oppressors, and +blood-suckers. This, however, we could bear; but to know that we are +marked down for violence, brutality, and, if possible, assassination, is +a penalty for which nothing in your establishment could compensate us. +I and my sons have received several notices of violence in every shape, +and we are obliged to sleep with our house half filled with arms and +ammunition, in dread of an attack every night in the year.” + +“Well, well,” replied Turbot, “this, after all, is but the old story; +the matter is only an ebullition, and will pass away. I know you are +constitutionally timid. I know you are; and have in fact a great deal of +the natural coward in your disposition; and I say natural, because a +man is no more to be blamed for being born a coward than he is for being +born with a bad complexion or an objectionable set of features. You +magnify the dangers about you, and, in fact, become a self-tormentor. As +for my part, I am glad you have got money, for I do assure you, I never +stood so much in need of it in my life.” + +“The very papers, sir,” continued Purcel, who could not prevent himself +from proceeding, “might enable you to see the state of the country.” + +“Oh, d--n the papers,” said the parson, “I am sick of them. Our side is +perpetually exaggerating matters--just as you are; and as for the other +side, your papist rags I never, of course, see or wish to see. I want +six hundred now, or indeed eight if you can, and I had some notion of +taking a day or two's shooting. How is the game on the glebe? Has it +been well preserved, do you know?” + +“I am not aware,” said the proctor, “that any one has shot over the +glebe lands this season; but if you take my advice, sir, you will expose +yourself as little as you can in the neighborhood. There are not two +individuals in the parish so unpopular as Dr. Turbot and your humble +servant.” + +“In that case, then,” replied the other, “the less delay I make here the +better--you can let me have six hundred, I hope?” + +“I certainly told you, sir,” replied Purcel, with something of a +determined and desperate coolness about him, “that I had money for you, +and so I have.” + +“Thank you, Purcel; I must say you certainly have, on all occasions, +exerted yourself faithfully and honestly in support of my interests.” + +“Money, sir,” pursued the other, without appearing to look to the right +or to the left, “I have for you. Would you venture to guess to what +amount?” + +“Well, under the circumstances you speak of, less, I dare say, than I +expect.” + +“I have been able to get, within the last six months, exactly fifty-nine +pounds thirteen and sevenpence!” + +If the ebb which we have described before of the blood from the doctor's +double chin was a gradual one, we can assure the reader that, in this +case, it was rapid in proportion to the terror and dismay conveyed by +this authentic, but astounding piece of intelligence. The whole face +became pale, his eyes at once lost their lustre, and were, as he fixed +them in astonishment upon the proctor, completely without speculation; +his voice became tremulous, and, as he pulled out his handkerchief to +wipe away the unexpected perspiration which the proctor's words had +brought out upon his forehead, his hands trembled as if he had been +suddenly seized with palsy. In truth, Purcel, who had a kind of +good-natured regard for the little man, felt a sensation of compassion +for him, on witnessing the extraordinary distress under which he +labored. + +“I am sorry for this,” said he, “for I really know not what is to be +done, and, what is equally distressing, our prospects are not at all +likely to improve.” + +“You don't mean to say, Purcel, that circumstances are as bad as you +report them--as bad--as desperate, I should say--and as ruinous?” + +“I fear,” said Purcel, “they go beyond the gloomiest and most desponding +views you could take of them. The conspiracy, for such we must term it, +is, in point of fact, deepening down to the very foundations, if I may +use the expression, of society. Every day it is becoming more dangerous +and alarming; but how it is to be checked or mitigated, or how we are to +stand out of its way and avoid its consequences, heaven only knows, for +I don't.” + +“But, Purcel, my dear friend, what am I and my domestic establishment +to do? Good God! there is nothing but ruin before us! You know I always +lived up to my income--indeed, at best, it was too limited for the +demands of my family, and our habits of life. And now, to have the very +prop--the only one on which I leant--suddenly snapt from under me--it is +frightful. But you are to blame, Purcel; you are much to blame. Why did +you not apprise me of this ruinous state of things before it came +thus on me unawares? It was unfeeling and heartless in you not to have +prepared me for it.” + +The proctor actually imagined, and not without reason, that the worthy +doctor was beginning to get beside himself, as it is termed, on hearing +such a charge as this brought against him; and he was about to express +his astonishment at it, when Mr. Temple, his curate, who resided in the +parsonage, made his appearance, and joined them at Dr. Turbot's request. +“Temple,” said he, as the latter portion of his body began to pursue +the other through the room, “are you aware of the frightful condition to +which the country has come?” + +“Who can be ignorant of it?” replied Temple; “how can any man live in +the country, and not know it?” + +“Yes, sir,” replied Turbot, tartly, “I have lived in the country, and, +until a few minutes ago, I was ignorant of the extent to which it has +come.” + +“Well, sir,” said Temple, “that is odd enough; for, to my own knowledge, +your information has been both regular and authentic upon this subject +at all events. Our friend Purcel, here, has not left you in ignorance of +it.” + +“Yes,” said Turbot, “but he had the country as bad three years ago as +it is now. Was this fair? Why, I took it for granted that all his alarms +and terrors were the mere play and subterfuge of the proctor upon the +parson, and, consequently, thought little of it; but here I am stranded +at once, wrecked, and left on my bottom. How will I meet my tradesmen? +how will I continue my establishment? and, what is worse, how can I +break it up? You know, Temple, I cannot, unfortunately, live without +luxuries. They are essential to my health, and if suddenly deprived +of them, as I am likely to be, I cannot answer to society for the +consequences.” + +“Sir,” said Temple, “it is quite obvious that a period of severe trial +and chastening is at hand, or I should rather say, has already arrived. +Many of our calling, I am grieved I to know, are even now severely +suffering, and suffering, I must add, with unexampled patience and +fortitude under great and trying privations. Yet I trust that the health +of the general body will be improved by it, and purged of the grossness +and worldly feeling which have hitherto, I fear, too much characterized +it. Many, I know, may think we are merely in the hands of man, but +for my part, I think, and earnestly hope, that we are in those of God +himself, and that He chasteneth no only because He loveth.” + +“This is most distressing to hear, my dear Temple,” replied his rector; +“but I trust I am as willing and as well prepared, from religious +feeling, to suffer as another--that is, provided always I am not +deprived of those comforts and little luxuries to which I have all my +life been accustomed.” + +“I am very much afraid,” observed Purcel, “that the clergy of the +established church will have a very fine opportunity to show the world +how well and patiently they can suffer.” + +“I have already said, Purcel,” said the doctor, “that I am as willing +to suffer as another. I know I am naturally of a patient and rather an +humble disposition; let these trials come then, and I am prepared for +them, provided only that I am not deprived of my little luxuries, for +these are essential to my health itself, otherwise I could bear even +this loss. I intended, Temple, to have had a day or two's shooting on +the glebe lands, but Purcel, here, tells me that I am very unpopular, +and would not, he says, recommend me to expose myself much, or if +possible at all, in the neighborhood. + +“And upon my word and credit I spoke nothing,” replied the other, “but +what I know to be truth. There is not a feather of game on the glebe +lands that would be shot down with half the pleasure that the parson +himself would. I beg, then, Dr. Turbot, that you won't think of it. I'll +get my sons to go over the property, and if there's any game on it we +shall have it sent to you.” + +“How does it stand for game, Temple, do you know?” + +“I really cannot say,” replied the good man. “The killing of game is a +pursuit I have never relished, and with which I am utterly unacquainted. +I fear, however, that the principal game in the country will soon be the +parson and the proctor.” + +“It's a delightful pursuit,” replied the Rev. Doctor, who did not at +all relish the last piece of information, and only replied to the first, +“and equally conducive to health and morals. What, for instance, can be +more delicious than a plump partridge or grouse, stewed in cinnamon and +claret? and yet, to think that a man must be deprived of--well,” said +he, interrupting himself, “it is a heavy, and awful dispensation--and +one that I ought to have been made acquainted with--that is, to its +full and fearful extent--before it came on me thus unawares. Purcel here +scarcely did his duty by me in this.” + +“I fear, sir,” replied Temple, “that it was not Purcel who neglected his +duty, but you who have been incredulous. I think he has certainly not +omitted to sound the alarm sufficiently loud during the approach of this +great ordeal to which we are exposed.” + +“And in addition to everything else, I am in arrears to you, Temple,” he +added; “and now I have no means of paying you.” + +Temple was silent, for at that moment the necessities of his family +pressed with peculiar severity upon himself--and he was not exactly +prepared for such an intimation. The portion of salary then coming to +him was, in truth, his sole dependence at that peculiar crisis, and this +failing him, he knew not on what hand or in what direction to turn. + +After musing for some time, he at length replied, “If you have it not, +Dr. Turbot, or cannot procure it, of course it is idle for me to expect +it--although I will not deny, that in the present circumstances of +my family, it would have come to us with very peculiar and seasonable +relief.” + +“But I have not a pound,” replied the doctor; “so far from that, I am +pretty deeply in debt--for I need hardly say, that for years I have been +balancing my affairs--paying off debts to-day, and contracting other +to-morrow--always dipped, but and rather deeply, too, as I said.” + +He again got to his legs, when the pursuit of the latter part of his +person after the rest once more took place, and in this odd way he +traversed the room in a state of extreme tribulation. + +“What is to be done?” he asked--“surely the government cannot abandon +us?--cannot allow us to perish utterly, which we must do, if left to +the mercy of our enemies? No, certainly it cannot desert us in such a +strait as this, unless it wishes to surrender the established church to +the dark plots and designing ambition of popery. No, no--it cannot--it +must not--it dares not. Some vigorous measure for our relief must be +taken, and that speedily;--let us not be too much dejected, then--our +sufferings will be short--and as for myself, I am willing to make +any reasonable sacrifice, provided I am not called upon--at these +years--fifty-eight--to give up my usual little luxuries. Purcel, I want +you to take a turn in the garden. Temple, excuse me--will you?--and say +to Mrs. Temple to make no preparations, as I don't intend to stop--I +shall return to Dublin in an hour at farthest; and don't be cast down, +Temple; matters will soon brighten.” + +“It is not at all necessary, sir,” replied Temple, “that you should +adjorn to the garden to speak with Mr. Purcel. I was on my way to the +library when I met you, and I am going there now.” + +“It is not so much,” he replied, “that I have anything very particular +to say to Purcel, as that I feel a walk in the fresh air will relieve +me. Good-bye, then, for a little; I shall see you before I go.” + +“Now, Purcel,” said he, when they had reached the garden, “this, after +all, is only a false alarm, or even if it be not, we know that the +government could by no means afford to abandon the established church +in Ireland, because that would be, in other words, to reject the aid +of, and sever themselves from all connection with, the whole Protestant +party; and you, as a man of sense, Purcel, need not be told that it is +only by the existence of a Protestant party in this country that they +are enabled to hold it in union with England at all.” + +“But what has that to do with our present distresses?” said the proctor, +who, as he probably began to anticipate the doctor's ultimate object +in this conversation, very shrewdly associated himself rather in an +official spirit with the embarrassments of his friend, and the church in +general. + +“It has considerably,” replied Dr. Turbot; “for instance, there will be +no risk whatsoever, in lending to many of the embarrassed clergy sums +of money upon their! personal security, until this pressure passes away, +and their prosperity once more returns.” + +“Oh, ho, doctor,” thought his sharp and wily companion, “I believe I +have you now, Well, Dr. Turbot,” he replied, “I think, the case, even as +you put it, will be attended with difficulties. What, for instance, is +personal security from a poor or a ruined man? very little, or rather +nothing. Still it is possible that many, relying upon the proverbial +honor and integrity of the Irish Protestant clergy, may actually lend +money upon this security. But then,” he added, with a smile, “those who +will, must belong to a peculiar and privileged class.” + +“Why,” asked Turbot, “to what class do you allude?” + +“To one with which,” said the proctor, “I unfortunately have no +connection--I mean the class that can afford to lend it.” + +“Purcel,” said Dr. Turbot, “I am sorry to hear this ungenerous +observation from you; I did not expect it.” + +“Why do you call it ungenerous, sir?” asked Purcel. + +“Because,” replied Turbot, “it is obvious that it was made in +anticipation of a favor which I was about to ask of you.” + +“If I can grant you any favor,” replied the proctor, “I shall be most +happy to do so;--if you will only let me know what it is.” + +“You must be particularly dull not to perceive it,” replied the parson, +“aware, as you are, of the unexpected state of my circumstances. In +short, I want you to assist me with a few hundreds.” + +The proctor, after a pause, replied, “You place me in circumstances of +great difficulty, sir; I am indeed anxious to oblige you, but I know +not whether I can do so with honor, without violating my good faith to +another party.” + +“I don't understand you,” said Turbot. + +“Then I shall explain it,” replied Purcel; “the sum I can command is one +of four hundred, which is at this moment virtually lent upon excellent +security, at an interest of eight per cent. The loan is certainly not +legally completed, but morally and in point of honor it is. Now, if I +lend this money to you, sir, I must break my word and verbal agreement +to the party in question.” + +“Very well, sir,” replied the rector, who, notwithstanding the love +he bore his “little luxuries,” was scrupulously honorable in all money +transactions, “don't attempt to break word, or to violate good faith +with any man; and least of all, on my account. I presume I shall be able +to raise the money somewhere else.” + +Purcel, who had uniformly found the doctor a sharp, but correct man +in matters,of business, and who knew besides the severe pressure under +which he labored at the moment, was not exactly prepared to hear from +him the expression of a principle so high-minded. He paused again +for some time, during which he reasoned with himself somewhat to the +following effect:--“I did not expect this from the worthy doctor, but +I did, that he would at once have advised me to break the agreement I +mentioned and lend himself the money. I cannot think there will be +much risk in lending such a man a few hundreds, especially as no such +agreement as I allude to exists.” He then replied as follows:-- + +“Doctor,” he proceeded, “I have been thinking over this matter; I know +you want the money, and I am sorry for it. That I have myself been a +gainer by my connection with you, I will not attempt to deny, and I do +not think that I should be grateful or a sincere friend to you, if I saw +you now in such grievous and unexpected embarrassments without making an +effort to assist you. You shall have the four hundred, if you consent to +the same rate of interest I was about to receive for it from the other +party.” + +“Then you will break faith with him,” replied the doctor. “I thank you, +Purcel, but I will not have it.” + +“I break no faith with him,” replied the proctor; “he was bound to have +let me know, on yesterday, whether he would require the money or not, +for the matter was conditional; but as I have not yet heard from him, I +hold myself at liberty to act as I wish. The fault is his own.” + +“And on these conditions, so you are; I well, thank you again, Purcel, I +accept this money on your terms, eight per cent. Nay, you oblige me very +much; indeed you do.” + +“Well, then, that matter is settled,” said the proctor, “do not speak of +it,” he proceeded, in reply to the doctor's last observation; “I should +indeed be unworthy either of your good opinion or my own, if I held +aloof from you just now. I will have a bond prepared in a day or two, +but in the meantime, if you will call at my house, you may have the +money home with you.” + +The doctor once more thanked Mm, and they were in the act of returning +to the house, when the noise of a pistol was heard, and at the same +moment a bullet whistled light between them, and so close to each that +it was utterly impossible to say at which of the two individuals the +murderous aim had been taken. The garden, a large one and highly walled +in, was entered by two gates, one of which led into the back yard, the +other into a corner of the lawn that was concealed from the house by a +clump of trees. The latter gate, which was not so large as the other, +had in it a small iron grating a little above the centre, through which +any one could command a view of the greater portion of the garden. It +was through this gate they had entered, and as no apprehension of any +attempt of assassination had existed in the mind of either, they left +the key in the outside, not having deemed it at all necessary to secure +the door, by locking it within. + +The proctor, to whose cowardice the worthy clergyman had not long before +paid so sincere, but by no means so flattering a tribute, did not wait +to make even a single observation, but ran with all his speed towards +the gate, which, to his surprise and mortification, he found locked on +the outside. Apprehensive, however, of a second attack, he beckoned to +his companion to hasten towards the other gate, which was not visible +from that through which the shot had been fired, and in the meantime, +he himself ran also towards it, in order to try whether it might not +be possible to get some view or trace of the assassin. He had a case of +pistols in his hand, for we ought to have told the reader that neither +he nor his sons ever traveled unarmed, and on reaching the back-yard, +he was obliged to make a considerable circuit ere he arrived at the spot +from which the shot had been fired. Here, however, he found no mark +or vestige of a human being, but saw at a glance that the assassin, in +order, to secure time for escape, had locked the door, and either taken +the key with him or thrown it where it could not be found. It was in +vain that he ran in all directions, searched every place likely to +conceal the villain; not a clump of trees or ornamental shrubs remained +unexamined. The search, however, was fruitless. No individual was seen, +nor any clue gained on which even a conjecture could be founded. The +only individual visible was our friend the _Cannie Soogah_, whose loud +and mellow song was the first thing that drew their attention to him, as +he came up a back avenue that led by a private and winding walk round +to the kitchen-door. Purcel, on seeing him, signed hastily with his +hand that he should approach, which the other, observing the +unusual agitation betrayed by his gesture, immediately did at a pace +considerably quickened. + +“Here, Cannie,” he shouted out to him, ere he had time to approach, +“here has been an attempt at murder by some cold-blooded and cowardly +assassin, who has, I fear, escaped us!” + +“Murdher!” exclaimed the pedlar, “the Lord save and guard us!--for +there's nothin' but murdher in my ears! go where I will of late, it's +nothin' but bloodshed;--sure I cannot sing my harmless bit of a song +along the road, but I'm stopped wid an account of some piece o' murdher +or batthery, or God knows what. An' who was near gettin' it now, Misther +Purcel? Not yourself, I pray Jasus this day!” + +“I really cannot say, Cannie; Dr. Turbot and I were walking in the +garden, when some damnable villain discharged a pistol from the gate +here, and the bullet of it whistled right between us both.” + +“Whistled, did it!--hell resave it for one bullet, it was fond of mirth +it was; and you can't say which o' you it was whistling for?” + +“No, how could I?--it was equally near us both.” + +“Bad cess for ever saize him for a murdherin' villain, whoever he was. +You have no notion, Masther Purcel, darlin', where he went to?” + +“Not the slightest, Cannie; the villain wouldn't have got off so easily, +only that he had the diabolical cunning to lock the gate outside and +conceal the key: so that whilst I was coming round to the place, he +escaped. Did you meet or see nobody yourself?” + +The peddler shut his right hand, slapped it quickly into the palm of his +left. “By the Lomenty tarry,” he exclaimed, “I seen the villain! By the +high horicks, I seen the very man, if I have an eye in my head! A big, +able-bodied villain, wid a pair of thumpin' black whiskers that you +might steal my own out of--and I don't think I can complain myself. He +was comin' up the road from the Carr, and he was turnin' over towards +the bridge there below, so that I only got a short glimpse of him; and +faix, sure enough, as he passed the bridge, I seen him throw something +over the wall of it into the river, which I'd lay my head against the +three kingdoms was the kay o' the gate.” + +The proctor paused a little, and then observed, “Ay, faith! I'm sure +you're right, Cannie; I've heard of that villain, and know him from your +description. He is the cowardly ruffian who's said to be at the head or +bottom of these secret combinations that are disgracing and destroying +the country. Yes, I've heard of him.” + +“And what did you hear, Misther Purcel?” asked the pedlar, with +undisguised curiosity--. + +“No matter now, Cannie; I haven't time to bestow upon the murdering +ruffian: I have my eye on him, however, and so have others. Indeed, I'm +rather inclined to think the hemp has already grown that will hang him. +What dress had he on?” + +“Why, sir, he had on a whitish frieze coat, wid big brown buttons; but +there could be no mistakin' the size of his murderin' red whiskers.” + +“Red whiskers!--why, you said a moment ago that they were black.” + +“Black! hut tut, no, Misther Purcel, I couldn't say that; devil such a +pair of red thumpers ever I seen, barin' upon Rousin' Redhead that was +sent across--for--for--buildin' churches--ha! ha! ha!” + +“Why, I'd take my oath you said black,” rejoined the proctor--“that is, +if I have ears to my head.” + +“Troth, an' you have Misther Purcel, as brave a pair as a man could +boast of; but the truth is, you wor so much feflustered wid alarm, and +got altogether so much through other, that you didn't know what I said.” + +“I did perfectly: you said distinctly that he had black whiskers.” + +“Red, by the hokey, over the world; however, to avoid an argument, even +if I did, in mistake, say black, the whiskers were red in the mane time; +an', as I sed, barrin' Rousin' Redhead's, that was thransported, a never +laid my eyes on so red, nor so big I pair.” + +“He can't be the fellow I suspect, then--for his, by all accounts, are +unusually large and black.” + +“As to that, I can't say, sir: but you wouldn't have me give a wrong +description of any villain that 'ud make an attempt upon your life. Are +you sure, though, it wasn't his reverend honor that the pistol was aimed +at?” + +“I am not; as I told you, it is impossible to settle that point. There +is neither of us very popular, certainly.” + +“Bekaise, afther all, there is a difference; and it doesn't folly that, +although I'd purshue the villain for life and death, that 'ud attempt to +murdher you, that I'd distress myself to secure an honest man that might +free us an' the country from the like o' him;” and he pointed over his +left shoulder with his inverted thumb. + +“Cannie,” said the proctor, somewhat sternly, “I've never heard you give +expression to such sentiments before, and I hope I shall never again. No +honest man would excuse or tamper with murder or murderers. No more of +this, Cannie, or you will lose my good opinion, although perhaps you +would think that no great loss.” + +“Throth, I know I was wrong to spake as I did, sir, bad cess to me, but +I was, an' as for your good opinion, Misther Purcel, and the good of all +your family too, devil a man livin' 'ud go further to gain it, and to +keep it when he had it than I would; now, bad cess to the one.” + +Whilst this dialogue was proceeding between the pedlar and the proctor. +Dr. Turbot, in a state of indescribable alarm, was relating the +attempted assassination to his curate inside. The amazement of the +latter gentleman, who was perfectly aware of the turbulent state of +the country, by no means kept pace with the alarm of his rector. He +requested of the latter, that should he see Mrs. Temple, he would make +no allusions to the circumstance, especially as she was at the period in +question not far from her confinement, and it was impossible to say +what unpleasant or dangerous effects an abrupt mention of so dreadful a +circumstance might have upon her. + +In a few minutes Purcel and his patron were on their way to Longshot +Lodge, the residence of the proctor. At the solicitation of the parson, +however, they avoided the direct line of road, and reached home by one +that was much more circuitous, and as the latter thought also more safe. +Here, after Waiting for the arrival of the mail coach, which he resolved +to meet on its way to the metropolis, he partook of a lunch, which, +even to his voluptuous palate, was one that he could not but admit to be +excellent. He received four hundred pounds from the proctor, for which +he merely gave him a note of hand, and in a short time was on his way to +the metropolis. + + + + +CHAPTER VI.--Unexpected Generosity--A False Alarm. + + +At this period, notwithstanding the circumstances which we have just +related--and they were severe enough--the distress of the Protestant +clergy of Ireland was just only beginning to set in. It had not, as +yet, however, assumed anything like that formidable shape in which +it subsequently appeared. To any scourge so dreadful, no class in the +educated and higher ranks of society had been, within the records of +historical recollection, ever before subjected. Still, like a malignant +malady, even its first symptoms were severe, and indicative of the +sufferings by which, with such dreadful certainty, they were followed. + +On that day, and at the very moment when the mysterious attempt at +assassination,which we have recorded, was made, Dr. Turbot's worthy +curate, on returning home from the neighboring village of Lisnagola, +was, notwithstanding great reluctance on his part, forced into the +following conversation with his lovely but dejected wife: + +“Charles,” said she, fixing her large, tearful eyes upon him, with a +look in which love, anxiety, and sorrow were all blended, “I fear you +have not been successful in the village. Has Moloney refused us?” + +“Only conditionally, my dear Maria--that is, until our account is paid +up--but for the present, and perhaps for a little longer, we must deny +ourselves these 'little luxuries,'” and he accompanied the words with +a melancholy smile. “Tea and sugar and white bread are now beyond our +reach, and we must be content with a simpler fare.” + +Mrs. Temple, on looking at their children, could scarcely refrain from +tears; but she knew her husband's patience and resignation, and felt +that it was her duty to submit with humility to the dispensation of God. + +“You and I, my dear Charles, could bear up under anything--but these +poor things, how will they do?” + +“That reflection is only natural, my dear Maria; but it is spoken, +dearest, only like a parent, who probably loves too much and with +an excess of tenderness. Just reflect, darling, upon the hundreds of +thousands of children in our native land, who live healthily and happily +without ever having tasted either tea or loaf-bread at all; and think, +besides, dearest, that there are, in the higher circles, a great number +of persons whose children are absolutely denied these comforts, by +advice of their physicians. Our natural wants, my dear Maria, are but +simple, and easily satisfied; it is wealth and luxury only that corrupt +and vitiate them. In this case, then, dearest, the Christian must speak, +and act, and feel as well as the parent. You understand me now, love, +and that is sufficient. I have not succeeded in procuring anything for +you or them, but you may rest assured that God will not desert us.” + +“Yes, dear Charles,” replied his wife, whose black mellow eyes beamed +with joy; “all that is true, but you forgot that Dr. Turbot has arrived +to receive his tithes, and you will now receive your stipend. That will +carry us out of our present difficulty at least.” + +“My dear Maria, it is enough to say that Dr. Turbot is in a position +immeasurably more distressed and dreadful than ours. Purcel, his +proctor, has been able to receive only about fifty pounds out of his +usual half-yearly income of eight hundred. From him we are to expect +nothing at present. I know not, in fact, how he and his family will bear +this dreadful privation; for dreadful it must be to those who have lived +in the enjoyment of such luxuries.” + +“That is indeed dreadful to such a family, and I pity them from +my heart,” replied his wife; “but, dearest,Charles, what are we to +do?--except a small crust of bread, there is no food in the house for +either them or you.” As she uttered the words their eyes met, and +his gentle and soothing Maria, who had been sitting beside him, threw +herself upon his bosom--he clasped his arms around her--pressed her +with melancholy affection to his heart, and they both wept together. + +At length he added, “But you think not of yourself, my Maria.” + +“I!” she replied; “ah! what am I? Anything, you know, will suffice +for me--but you and they, my dearest Charles--and then poor Lilly, the +servant; but, dearest,” she exclaimed, with a fresh, and if possible, +a more tender embrace, “I am not at all repining--I am happy with +you--happy, happy--and never, never, did I regret the loss of my great +and powerful friends less than I do at this moment, which enables me +to see and appreciate the virtues and affection to which my heart is +wedded, and which I long since appreciated.” + +Her husband forced a smile, and kissed her with an air of cheerfulness. + +“Pardon me,” he said, “dearest Maria, for two or three minutes I wish to +go to the library to make a memorandum. I will soon return.” + +He then left her, after a tender embrace, and retired, as he said, +to the library, where, smote to the heart by his admiration of her +affection and greatness of mind, he sat down, and whilst he reflected on +the destitution to which he had brought the granddaughter of an earl, +he wept bitterly for several minutes. It was from this peculiar state +of feeling that he was called upon to hear an account of the attempted +assassination, with which the reader is already acquainted. + +Our friend, the Cannie Soogah, having taken the town of Lisnagola on +his way, in order to effect some sales with one of those general country +merchants on a somewhat small scale, that are to be found in almost +every country town, happened to be sitting in a small back-parlor, when +a certain conversation took place between Mr. Temple and Molony, the +proprietor of the establishment to which we have just alluded. He heard +the dialogue, we say, and saw that the mild and care-worn curate had +been, not rudely certainly, but respectfully, yet firmly, refused +further credit. By whatever spirit prompted it is not for us to say; +at all events he directed his footsteps to the glebe, and--but it is +unnecessary to continue the description, or rather to repeat it. The +reader is already aware of what occurred until the departure of Dr. +Turbot and the proctor. + +Temple, having seen them depart, walked out for a little, in order to +compose his mind, and frame, if possible, some project for the relief of +his wife and children. In the meantime, our jolly pedlar, having caught +a glimpse of Mrs. Temple at the parlor window, presented himself, and +begged to know if she were inclined to make any purchases. She nodded +him a gentle and ladylike refusal, upon which he changed his ground, +and said, “Maybe, ma'am, if you're not disposed to buy, that you'd have +something you'd like to part wid. If you have, ma'am, bad cess to the +purtier purchaser you'd meet wid--shawls or trinkets, or anything that +way--I mane, ma'am,” he added, “things that arn't of any use to you--an' +I'm the boy that will shell out the ready money, and over the value.” + +Mrs Temple had known little--indeed nothing--of the habits of such a +class as that to which our gay friend belonged; but be this as it may, +his last words struck her quickly and forcibly. + +“Do you make purchases, then?” she said. + +“I do, ma'am, plaise your honor,” replied the pedlar. + +“Stop a moment, then,” she replied. “I have some superfluous articles of +dress that I may dispose of.” + +The whole mother rushed into her heart at the thought; the tender and +loving wife forgot everything but the means of obtaining food for +her husband and children. She went to her dressing-room, and in a few +minutes returned, accompanied by Lilly Stewart, her own servant-maid +previous to ker marriage, to whom their recent distresses had been +no secret, and who was deeply and deservedly in the confidence of the +family. + +Whilst she was, absent in her dressing-room the pedlar resumed his song, +as was his custom when alone--a circumstance which caused Mrs. Temple +to remark, as she and Lilly went down to, the parlor--“Alas! dear Lilly, +what a mistaken estimate does one portion of mankind form of another. +This poor pedlar now envies us the happiness of rank and wealth which +we do not feel, and I--yes, even I--what would I not give to be able to +carol so light-hearted a song as that which he is singing! Who is this +man, Lilly, do you know him?” + +“Why, ma'am, if all they say is true, every one knows him, and nobody +knows him. He's known as the _Cannie Soogah_, or jolly pedlar. They +say, that although he prefers this kind of life, he's very wealthy. +One person will tell you that he's a great rogue, and would cheat +Satan himself, and others say he's generous and charitable. In other +respects,” continued. Lilly, blushing, “he's not very well spoken of, +but it may be false. I have always found him myself very civil; and them +that spoke harshly of him were people that he kept at a distance.” + +The pedlar ceased his song as soon as they made their appearance in +the parlor, into which Lilly admitted him for the sake of mutual +convenience. + +“Here's a shawl--a beautiful shawl, Mr. ---- what's this your name is?” + +“The name that I have for set days and bonfire nights,” he replied, “is +one I seldom tell,” and at the same time there was a dry air of surprise +about him on hearing her ask the question; “but the name I am generally +known by is the _Cannie Soogah_, which manes, ma'am,” he added, +addressing himself in a respectful manner to Mrs. Temple, “the jolly +merchant or pedlar.” + +“Well, Cannie,” said Lilly, pronouncing the word with more familiarity +than could have been expected from their apparent unaquaintance with +each other, “here's a beautiful shawl that my mistress made me a present +of.” + +“No, Lilly,” said her mistress, with severity--for she neither could nor +would sanction the falsehood, however delicately and well intended--“no, +do not mislead the man, nor state anything but the truth. The shawl is +mine, my good man, and I wish to dispose of it.” + +The pedlar looked at it, and replied, in a tone of disappointment, +“Yes, ma'am, but I'm afeard it's beyant my manes; I know the value of +it right well, and it's seldom ever the likes of it was in my pack. What +are you axin', ma'am? it's as good as new.” + +“I think it cost twelve or thirteen guineas, as well as I can remember,” + she replied; “but it is not what it cost, but what you are now disposed +to give for it, that I am anxious to know.” + +“Well, ma'am, you know I must look upon it as--hem--as a second--ha--at +all events,” he proceeded, checking himself with more delicacy than +could be expected from him--“you must admit that it isn't new.” + +“Certainly,” said she, “it has been more than eight years in my +possession, although, at the same time, I believe I have not worn it +more than half a dozen times.” + +“Well, ma'am,” replied the pedlar, “I know the value of the shawl +something betther even than yourself. If you will take six guineas for +it, we will deal; more I cannot afford, for I must at once tell, you the +truth, that I may carry it about these twelve months before I find any +one that knows its value.” + +Mrs. Temple was by no means prepared, any more than her servant, for +such a liberal offer; and without any further hesitation she accepted +it, and desired Lilly to place the shawl in his hands, and in the +meantime, with equal consideration and good feeling, he handed Lilly six +guineas, adding, “Give that to your mistress, but in troth, ma'am,” he +proceeded, respectfully addressing her; “it is just robbing you I am, +but I can only say, that if I dispose of it at its proper-value you'll +hear from me again. Troth, if I wasn't a great rogue, ma'am, I'd give +you more for it; but bad cess to the one o' me--ever could be honest, +even if I wasped for it.” + +“I do not think you dishonest, my good, man,” replied Mrs. Temple; “on +the contrary, I am not displeased with your, plain blunt manner. Lilly +give him some----” + +She checked herself at once, and passed, a significant but sorrowful +glance at Lilly; as she went up to the drawing-room. + +She had no sooner gone, than the peddler, with a shrug of satisfaction, +exclaimed, in a subdued but triumphant voice: “Oh! by the hokey I've +done her, and for that you must suffer, Lilly darlin'. Come now, you +jumpin' jewel you, that was born wid a honey-comb somewhere between, +that purty chin and beautiful nose of yours--throth it must have a +taste, for who the dickens could, refuse the _Cannie Soogah_, and before +Lilly, who, by the way, was nothing, loath, could put herself in an +attitude of defense, he had inflicted several smacks upon as pretty a +pair of lips as ever were pressed. + +“Upon my word; now, Mr. Magrath, you're very impudent,” she replied, “I +wonder you're not ashamed, you great strong man you, to be kissing girls +in this manner, whether they will or not. Look at the state you have my +hair in; you're very rude, Mr. Magrath, and I'm really angry with you; +you've broken one of my side-combs, too; you're a great rude man, so you +are.” + +“Broke your side-comb, did I? Well, then, you couldn't be in better +hands, darlin', here's a pair I make you a present of, and maybe they +won't set you all off to pieces; here, darlin', wear these for my sake.” + +“But are you making me a present of these beauties, Cannie?” + +“Troth an' I am, Lilly darlin', and wish they were betther for your +sake--what's that I said? a present! oh the sorrow bit, I must have my +payment--aisy now, darlin', my own sweet Lilly; there now, we're clear.” + +“Upon my word, Mr. Magrath, I don't know what to say to you, but you're +such a great strong fellow, that a poor weak girl like me is but a child +in your arms; are these real tortoise-shell though?” + +“You may swear it; do you think I'd offer you anything else? But now +listen, my darlin' girl, take this shawl, it's 'worth five-and-twenty +guineas at least, troth, poor thing! it wasn't since their marriage it +was bought; take it, I say, and go up widout sayin' a word, and lay +it just where it was before, and if she seems surprised on findin' it +there, tell her you suppose I forgot it, or if she won't believe you, +and that all fails you, say that the _Cannie Soogah_, although she +knows nothing about him, is a man that's undher great obligations to her +family, and that he only tuck that method of payin' back a debt to her +that he honestly owed to them, for, afther all, isn't she one of them?” + +Lilly shook her head, and her eyes filled with tears, at the manly and +modest generosity of the pedlar. + +“Little you know then, Mr. Magrath, the load you have taken off my +dear mistress's heart, and the delight you have brought upon the whole +family.” + +“Well, Lilly dear, sure if I did, amn't I well paid, for it? thanks to +your two sweet lips for that. Sure, bad cess to me, but it was on your +account I did it.” + +A vile grin, or rather an awkward blank smile, forced by an affectation +of gallantry, accompanied the lie which he uttered. + +“Oh, yes, indeed,” replied Lilly, “on my 'account, don't think to +pass that upon me; however, I can forgive you a great many things in +consequence of your behavior--just now.” + +“And yet you abused me for it,” he replied, laughing, “but sure I knew +that a purty girl always likes to be kissed; bad cess to me, but the +same behavior comes naturally to me.” + +“Go now,” said Lilly, with a comic and peremptory manner; “go your +rounds, I say; you know very well that I mane your behavior about the +shawl, and not your great strong impudence.” + +The pedlar, after winking and nodding meanings into her words that she +had never thought of, slung his pack over his shoulder as usual, and +proceeded on his rounds. + +We have always been of opinion that there is scarcely anything more +mysterious than the speed with which popular report travels apparently +with very inadequate machinery throughout a large district of country. +Before the day was more than half-advanced, fame had succeeded in +circulating a report that Matthew Purcel and Dr. Turbot had been both +shot dead in the garden of the rectory. This report spread rapidly, +and it is with equal pain and shame we are obliged to confess that in +general it was received with evident and undisguised satisfaction. John +and Alick Purcel, on their way home, were accosted at a place called +“Murderer's Corner,” by two of the men who had attended at their +father's office that morning, and informed that he and Dr. Turbot had +been murdered in the course of the day, a piece of information which +was conveyed by them with a sneer of cowardly triumph that was perfectly +diabolical. + +“God save ye, gintlemen!” said one of them, with a peculiar emphasis on +the last word; “did ye here the news?” + +“No, Jemmy, what is it?” asked John. + +“Why, that Darby Hourigan is very ill,” he replied, with mock gravity. + +“No thanks for your information, Jemmy,” replied the other; “if you told +us something of more interest we might thank you.” + +“Never mind him, gintlemen,” replied his companion, “there's nothing +wrong wid Darby Horaigan, barrin' that he occasionally rubs himself +where he's not itching, but there's worse news than that before you.” + +“What is it, then?” asked Alick; “if you know it, let us hear it, and +don't stand humming and hawing as if you were afraid to speak.” + +“Faith, an' it's no wondher I would, sir, when it's to tell you that +you'll find your father a murdhered corpse at home before you.” + +“Great God! what do you mean, sir? asked John. + +“Why, gintlemen, it seems that himself an' Parson Turbot wor both shot +in the parsonage garden to-day. The parson's takin' his rest in his own +house, but your father's body was brought home upon the car. The bullet +entered your worthy father's breeches' pocket, cut through a sheaf of +notes that he had to pay the parson his tides wid, and from that it went +on----” + +Human patience could not endure the ill-suppressed and heartless +satisfaction with which the fellow was about to enter into the details, +and accordingly, ere he had time to proceed further, John Purcel turning +a hunting-whip, loaded for self-defense, left him sprawling on the +earth. + +“Now, you ill-conditioned scoundrel,” he exclaimed, “whether he is +murdered or not, take that for your information. Alick, lay on Hacket +there, you are the nearest to him,” he added, addressing his brother. + +Hacket at once took to his heels, but the other, touching his horse with +the spurs, cantered up to him, and brought the double thong of his whip +into severe contact with his neck and shoulders. When this was over, the +two fiery young men exclaimed:-- + +“There, now, are our thanks, not merely for your information, but for +the good will with which it was given, and that to the very sons of the +man whom, by your own account, you have murdered among you. If his blood +however, has been shed, there is not a drop of it for which we will not +exact a tenfold retribution.” + +They then dashed home, at the highest speed of which their horses +were capable, and throwing themselves out of the saddle, rushed to the +hall-door, where they knocked eagerly. + +“Is my father at home, Letty?” + +“Yes, sir, he's in the parlor.” + +“In the parlor,” exclaimed Alick, looking keenly into her face; “what is +he doing in the parlor, eh?” + +“Why, he's readin' a letther, sir.” + +“Reading a letter, is he?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“Thank God!” exclaimed both the young men, breathing freely; “that will +do, Letty--here, Letty, is half-a-crown for you to buy a ribbon.” + +“And another from me, Letty, to buy anything you fancy.” + +The girl looked at them with surprise, and for a moment or two seemed +at a loss how to account for such evident excitement. At length she +exclaimed: “By dad, I have it; you won the hunt, gintlemen.” + +“Better than that, Letty,” they replied, nodding, and immediately +entering the parlor. + +“Well, boys,” said the father, “a good day's sport?” + +“Capital, father! are you long home!” + +“Since about two o'clock.” + +“How did you come?” + +“Why, boys, ye must know that either Dr. Turbot or I was fired at +to-day. A bullet--a pistol bullet--whistled right between us in the +parsonage garden, and the poor frightened doctor refused to come by the +usual way, and, in consequence, I was obliged to take the lower road.” + +He then entered into a more detailed account of the attempted +assassination, and heard from them, in reply, a history of their +intelligence and adventure at Murderer's Corner with Hacket and Bryan, +for so the fellows were named. + +“Well,” said the proctor, “thank God, things are not so bad as they +report, after all; but, in the meantime, the plot appears to be +thickening--here's more comfort,” he added, handing him the notice which +Mogue told him he had found upon the steps of the hall-doer, where, +certainly, he had himself left it. John took the document and read as +follows:-- + +“TO PROCTOR PURCEL AND HIS HORSE-WHIPPIN' SONS. + +“This is to give you notice, that nothing can save yez. Look back upon +your work an' see what yez desarve from the counthry. You began with a +farm of sixty acres, and you took farm afther farm over the heads of the +poor an' them that wor strugglin', until you now have six hundre' acres +in your clutches. You made use of the strong purse against the wake man; +an' if any one ventured to complain, he was sure to come in for a +dose of the horsewhip from your tyrannical sons, or a dose of law from +yourself. Now all that I've mentioned might be overlooked an' forgiven, +for the sake of your wife and daughters, but it is for your conduct as +a Tithe Proctor that you and your sons must die. Don't think to escape +me, for it can't be done. There is not a day in the week, nor an hour in +the day, but I have you at my command. Be prepared, then, for your fate +is sealed; and no earthly power can save you. There is the sign [three +coffins] and the blood that marks my name is from my own veins. You and +your sons must die. + +“Captain Terror, + +“The Millstone-breaker.” + + +“Tut,” said Alick, “we have received far worse than this; it has been +written by some hedge schoolmaster; as for my part, I despise it.” + +“Well, boys, at all events,” proceeded the proctor, “be a little more +sparing with the horse-whip. The scoundrels deserve it to be sure; but +at the same time it is not a thing that can be defended.” + +“Why, it's impossible to keep it from them, father,” replied John; +“their insolence is actually more than flesh and blood can bear. But had +we not better make some inquiries into this precious production?” + +“Where is the use of that?” said his father, to whom such communications +had lost all their novelty and much of their interest; “however, you may +do so; perhaps some accidental clue may be found that would lead us to +discover the villain who wrote it.” + +Mogue was accordingly called in. + +“How did this letter come into your hands, Mogue?” asked the proctor. + +“It didn't come into them, sir,” replied Mogue, with a smile which he +intended to pass, for one of simplicity; “it was lyin' I got it, upon +the hall-door steps.” + +“Did you see any strange person about the place, or near the hall-door +to-day?” he asked. + +“None, sir, sorra a creature--well now, wait--that I may never sup +sorrow, but I did--there was a poor woman, sir, wid a whack of a son +along wid her.” + +“Did you see her near the steps?” + +“That I may be happy, sir, if I could take it upon me to say--not +wishin' to tell a lie--but she might a' been there, the crathur.” + +“What kind of a looking woman was she?” asked John. + +“A poor woman, sir, as I said.” + +“I do not mean that; of course, I know she was; but what dress had she +on, and what kind of features or complexion had she? Was she big or +little?” + +“I'm just thinkin',” replied Mogue, seemingly attempting to recollect +something, “was it to-day or yesterday I seen her.” + +“Well, but answer directly,” said Alick, “what was she like?” + +“The son of her was a bullet-headed _ownsha_,” replied Mogue, “and +herself--well now, that I may never die in sin, if I could say rightly. +I was fetehin' some oats to Gimlet Eye, an' didn't take any particular +notice. The _ownsha_ had black sooty hair, cut short, an' walked as +if his feet were sore--and indeed it strikes me that he had kibes--for +these poor people isn't overly clane, an' don't wash their feet goin' to +bed at night, barrin' at Christmas or Easther, the crathurs. But, sure +the Lord look down on them, they have enough to do to live at all!” + +“You couldn't say what direction she came from?” + +“Well, then, no.” + +“Nor the direction she went by?” + +“Well, no sir, I could not.” + +“But are you certain it was to-day, and not yesterday, you saw her?” + +“Then that's what's puzzlin' me--eh! let me see--ay--it was to-day--an' +I'll tell you how I know it. Bekaise it was to-day I brought the oats to +Gimlet Eye--you know he was harrowing the black park yestherday and was +in care of Paudeen Sthuccaun. But sure, sir, maybe somebody else about +the place seen them.” + +An investigation was consequently held upon this reasonable suggestion, +but we need scarcely assure our readers, without effect; the aforesaid +“poor woman” having had existence only in the fertile imagination of +stainless and uncorrupted saint Mogue. + +The latter had scarcely retired, when a gentle knock came to the door, +and Alick, on opening it himself, found their friend and neighbor, Darby +Hourigan, standing outside. + +“Well, Hourigan, what do you want now? have you repented, and come to +the resolution of paying your tithes?” + +Darby gave no direct answer, nor indeed any answer at all to these +questions, but simply said, “There's a bit o' paper, sir, for Misther +John.” + +“What is this? Oh, oh, a summons!--very well, Mr. Hourigan, my brother +will attend to it.” + +“This is where John Purcel lives, sir?” proceeded the man, according to +some form which he supposed necessary to give effect and reality to the +service; “you acknowledge that, sir, do you?” + +“Live here!--why, you scoundrel, don't you know he does? Where else did +he ever live?” + +“Ay, but you are only answerin' one question by another,” replied +Hourigan; “and I'll sarve you wid another to-morrow if you don't speak +the truth.” + +“John,” shouted his brother, “you're wanted. Here is your old friend +Hourigan, anxious to get another--ha! ha! ha!--he is off like a shot!” + he proceeded, addressing his brother, as the latter entered the hall; +“but in the meantime,” he added, handing him the summons, “this document +is intended for you.” + +“Well,” observed John, laughing, “unless our friend O'Driscol is +somewhat change”! I need not much fear Mr. Hourigan.” + +“He is changed,” observed the proctor; “the fellow is beginning to run +with the hare and hunt with the hounds. If you wish to secure his favor, +however, you ought to try and put him on the trail of a Conspiracy, or +anything that will give him a tolerable justification for writing to his +Friend the Castle, as he calls it! He is a regular conspiracy hunter, +and were it not that he is now awfully afraid of these Whiteboys, and +naturally cowardly and easily frightened, I think he would be the plague +of government as well as the country.” + +It would indeed, be extremely difficult to find a family so resolute and +full of natural courage, and consequently so incapable of intimidation, +as that of our friend the proctor. And what was equally striking, the +female portion of them were as free from the weakness and timidity of +their sex, in this respect, as the males. + + + + +CHAPTER VII.--A Shoneen Magistrate Distributing Justice. + + +On the morning but one afterwards, John Purcel proceeded to the house of +his friend and neighbor, Fitzy O'Driscol, as he was usually termed for +brevity. O'Driscol was rather a small man--that is to say, he was short +but thick, and of full habit. He was naturally well made, and had +been considered well-looking, until his complexion became a good deal +inflamed from the effects of social indulgence, to which he was rather +strongly addicted. His natural manner would have been plausible if he +had allowed it to remain natural; but so far from this, he affected an +air of pomp and dignity, that savored very strongly of the mock heroic. +On the other side, his clothes fitted him very well, and as he had a +good leg and a neat small foot, he availed himself of every possible +opportunity to show them. He was, like most men of weak minds, +exceedingly fond of ornaments, on which account he had his fingers +loaded with costly rings, and at least two or three folds of a large +gold chain hung about his breast. His morning gown was quite a tasteful, +and even an expensive article, and his slippers, heavily embroidered, +harmonized admirably with the whole fashionable deshabille in which he +often distributed justice. He carried a gold snuff-box of very massive +size, which, when dining out, he always produced after dinner for the +benefit of the company, although he never took snuff himself. This, in +addition to a tolerably stiff and unreclaimable brogue, and a style +of pronunciation wofully out of keeping with his elegant undress, +constituted him the very beau-ideal of what is usually known as a +_shoneen_ magistrate. + +John, on arriving, found him reading a paper in the breakfast-parlor, +and saw Hourigan waiting outside, who, by the way, gave him such a +look as a cat might be supposed to bestow upon a mastiff from whom she +dreaded an attack--a look which, in Hourigan's case, combined as much +ferocious vengeance and sullen hang-dog cowardice as could well be +brought together on the same features. + +“Well, Jack,” said the pompous distributor of justice, addressing young +Purcel, “how do you do? Take a seat--by the way, is it true that your +father and my excellent friend, Dr. Turbot, were shot at yesterday?” + +“True enough,” replied John; “the bullet whistled right between them, +and so close that each felt the wind of it.” + +“The country is getting into a frightful state, friend Purcel, eh? Upon +my honor now, yes! it is so--it is so.” + +“Why there is no question of it,” replied John; “it is already in a +frightful state.” + +“It is, Mr. Purcel, and in my opinion, the _crame_ of the matter will be +blood--blood--my dear John--that is what it will come to.” + +“Certainly you speak, Mr. O'Driscol, like a man that knows the country, +and can feel the pulse of the public officially--I mean, of course, as a +magistrate--for it is now, and in times of such turbulence, that men--I +mean magistrates--of your stamp--will prove themselves serviceable to +the government of the country, and to the country itself; intelligent +and determined men--I mean magistrates--who know not what fear is, and +who will do their duty at the risk of their lives.” + +“True, John, it is such men, or rather magistrates, who can render +the most important services to government. The duties of a loyal and +attached magistrate are not a mere raycrayation during these times. And +yet, John,” he added, sinking his voice into a confidential whisper, +“I protest to my honor that the life of a man--I mane, as you say, a +magistrate--who resolves firmly to perform his duty, is not extramely +safe; why then should a man--I mane a magistrate--unnecessarily expose +himself to the fate of Going,* when he might much more safely remain +snug and quiet, without putting either himself or his neighbors to +inconvanience by an over-strict discharge of his duty?” + + [* The name of a magistrate and clergyman, I think, who was + assassinated.] + +“If everything be true that I have heard,” said John, “the government +would scarcely expect to hear such sentiments from the intelligent and +determined Mr. O'Driscol.” + +“Ha! ha! ha!--well done, John,--I drew you out. Upon my honor, I am glad +to find that you are loyal, at all events, and that is a rare virtue +among most persons of your creed;--excuse me, but, except in name, I can +scarcely consider you as belonging to it. + +“Why, sir,” replied John, “I trust I am a firm, but not a bigoted +Catholic.” + +“Roman Catholic, John, always say, if you plaise; we claim to be the +true Catholics you know; and for that raison it is better always to +avoid confusion.” + +“As to that, we shall not quarrel about it, I trust,” replied Purcel; +“but with respect to another point, there is only one opinion, Mr. +O'Driscol, and that is, that you are a most resolute and determined +man.” + +“Magistrate you mane, I think, John; so magistrate, if you plaise--ha! +ha!' ha! By the way will you touch the bell? Thank you.” + +“I beg your pardon,” proceeded Purcel, having touched the bell, “I +should have said magistrate: because it very often happens that +whilst the man is a coward, the magistrate is as brave as the Duke of +Wellington.” + +“Upon my honor and conscience, there may be some truth in that,” said +O'Driscol, nodding, but at the same time not exactly appropriating the +category to himself; “but how do you make that appear, John?” + +“Why,” replied Purcel, who, between ourselves, was a bit of a wag in his +way, “it proceeds from the spirit of his office. Take a magistrate, for +instance, as a man--a mere man; place him in the ordinary situations of +society; let him ride home at night, for instance, through a disturbed +district like this, which, if he is wise, he will avoid doing, or let +him be seen in an isolated position even in daylight without protection, +and you will find him a coward of the first shaking. On the contrary, +place him, as a magistrate, at the head of a body of police or military, +and where will you witness such courage? That, then, is the individual, +I say, who being naturally a coward as a man, goes through his duty +with courage as a magistrate; I say this is the individual whom the +government should reward with especial favor.” + +“By the way, will you touch that bell again?--oh, here he comes. Sam,” + he said, addressing a servant, “get me up a bottle of soda-wather. Will +you have a glass of soda, John? I dipped a little too deep last night.” + +“No, sir, thank you,” replied Purcel, “I was moderate last night; and at +all events soda is rather cold for such a day as this is.” + +“Well, then can't you stiffen it with a little brandy?” + +“No, thank you, I won't touch anything at present. I almost wish, as +I was saying,” he proceeded, “that there was the slightest touch of +cowardice in you, naturally; because if it could be proved in connection +with your official intrepidity, you would deserve everything that a +government could bestow upon you.” + +“Faith and honor, that is certainly putting the argument in an extremely +new point of view, and I agree with you, John; that is--that--let me +see--the more cowardly the man the braver the magistrate. Well, I don't +know that aither.” + +“No, no!” replied John, “I don't mean that.” + +“Well, what do you mane? for I thought I undherstood you a while ago, +although find that I don't now.” + +“I mean,” proceeded the other, “that when a man who is naturally +cowardly--I don't mean, of course, a poltroon, but timid--proves +himself to be firm, resolute, and intrepid in the discharge of his +duties as a magistrate, such a man deserves a civic crown.” + +“A what?” + +“A civic crown. Of course you know what that is.” + +“Of coorse I do, John; and upon my honor and conscience there is great +truth in what you say. I could name you a magistrate who, I believe, as +a magistrate, could not very aisily be bate, and yet who, without being +a downright coward, is for all that no hairo to his valley de sham, as +they say.” + +“My father was talking about you last night, sir, and I think before +long he will be able to put you on the scent of as pretty a conspiracy +as was ever detected. He had some notion of opening a communication with +government himself upon the subject; but I suggested--that is, I took +the liberty, sir, if you will excuse me, but if I erred I assure you Mr. +O'Driscol, my intentions were good--I say I took the liberty, sir, of +suggesting that it would be better to place the matter in your hands, +as a person possessing more influence with your friend, the Castle, and +more conversant with the management of a matter that is too important to +be in any but official hands. I have time at the preset only to allude +to it, for I see Mr. Darby Hourigan there waiting to prosecute, or as he +says to take the law of, your humble servant.” + +“Hang the scoundrel, what a hurry he is in! How did you quarrel with +him?” + +“Faith, sir, in the first place, he was insolent and offensive beyond +all patience.” + +“Yes, my dear John,” observed O'Driscol, with a good deal of solemn +pomp, especially as the magistrate was beginning to supersede the man, +“all that is very provoking, but at the same time you know the horsewhip +is an illaygal instrument.” + +“I beg your pardon, sir,” replied Purcel, with a smile, “I believe not.” + +“I mane, John,” said the other, “an improper use of it is. You should +be more cautious, John, in using it, for the punishment of any animal +barring a horse. I have heard, by the way, many complaints against you +on that head.” + +“Yes, sir, but you are not aware that it is from a principle of humanity +I horsewhip the scoundrels.” + +“How is that now, John? for upon my honor and conscience I can't for the +life of me persave any great humanity in it.” + +“Why, sir,” replied Purcel, who, as the reader must be aware, was +humbugging the worthy magistrate all the time, “I appeal to yourself +whether it is not better for any one of these rascals to get a +horsewhipping from me than a citation to the Bishop's Court from my +father.” + +“Ay, but do they never happen to get both, John?” returned the +magistrate. “But what has a horsewhipping and a citaytion to the +Bishop's Court to do with aich other?” + +“Simply this,” replied the other, “that when my father hears I horsewhip +any of them, he takes no further proceedings against them; and +whenever I wish, consequently, to keep a fellow out of that troublesome +situation, I horsewhip him from pure kindness.” + +“So that you look upon that as a good turn to them?” + +“Precisely, sir. As I said, I horsewhip them from motives of humanity.” + +“Faith and don't be surprised, John, if they should happen to put a +bullet through you from motives of humanity some of these days. However, +do you think it is of importance?” + +“Is what, sir?” + +“The conspiracy. I beg your pardon--come into the office till I see what +I can do for you at all events.” + +He accordingly preceded Purcel to his office, accompanied by Sam +Finigan, a kind of thorough male domestic who acted as his clerk. Here +he took his seat with a good deal of ceremony, hemmed several times, and +desired Hourigan to be admitted. Just at that moment, and while Hourigan +was coming in, a young lad, or tiger, a son of Finigan's, by the +way, who had been in the habit of carrying letters to and from the +neighboring post-office, now entered and presented him with one, to the +following effect:-- + +“TO O'DRISKAL, THE SHONEEN MAGISTRIDGE. + +“Sur this is to let you no that if you go an givin wan la for the poor +and anud'her for the rich you will soon get a bullet through you as +Tandrem af Tavnibeg got. If you wish to bay safe thin bay the poor man's +friend--oderways it'll be worse for you. + +“Kaptn Jostige.” + + +O'Driscol having read this communication, became desperately disturbed +for about a couple of minutes, after which, as if struck by some sudden +thought, he appeared to recover himself considerably, but by no +means fully, as was evident from the agitation of his voice and the +involuntary tremor of his hands. + +“I hope, sir,” said Purcel, who could not help observing the commotion +into which the notice had put him, “that you have received no ill +tidings. You seem agitated and alarmed, or rather distressed, if one can +judge; I hope there's nothing wrong.” + +“Why, no,” replied the magistrate, “not exactly wrong; but it is +certainly an infamous country to live in. I am an impartial man, Mr. +Purcel--I mane, sir, an impartial magistrate; but the fact is, sir, +that every man is marked whose life is valuable to the government of his +country. I know no man, Mr. Purcel--mark me you, too, Hourigan--I know +no man, sir, in my capacity of a magistrate--hem--hem!--only according +to the merits--I am as much the poor man's friend as I am the rich +man's, and of the two more: if I lane at all, which I don't, it is to +the poor man; but as an impartial man--magistrate I mane--I know naither +rich or poor. On the bench, I say, I know naither poverty nor riches, +barring, as I said, upon the merits.” + +“Beggin' your pardon, your worship--an' before you begin--as I was +comin' down here a while agone,” said Hourigan, “I seen a strange and +suspicious-lookin' man inside the hedge at the shrubbery below; he was +an ill-faced villain, plaise your reverence, an' I thought I seen his +pockets stickin' out as if he had pistols in them. I thought it better +to tell your worship.” + +The worthy magistrate had scarcely recovered from the first fit of +agitation when this intelligence threw him into an immediate relapse. +Indeed so ludicrous was his distress that he actually wiped the +perspiration from his forehead. + +“Sam,” said he, after a fit of tremulous coughing, into which he forced +himself, in order to conceal the quaver which terror had given to his +voice, “Sa--am--hugh! ugh!--go-o--an-n-d--ugh! ugh! ugh!--get a ca-a-se +of doub-uble pis-pistols--ugh! ugh!--da--amn this cough--ough--and +place--them-em on the table here--we--we--will at least pep-pepper the +villain--if--if--he--he should dare to show his face---ace. I +trust I--I--know my duties as--a mag-istrate--my cour--urage and +in-trep--id--ity as such--ugh! ijg'h! ugh!--are no saycret now, I +think.” + +“I don't believe,” observed Purcel, “that there is one syllable of +truth in what he says. I can read the falsehood in his eye. However,” + he added, “if you will postpone this matter of Hourigan's for a few +minutes, I shall soon see whether there is any one there or not.” + +“Here, then,” said the magistrate, “take these pistols” (pointing to +those which Finigan had just laid on the table). Purcel declined them +with a nod, taking a good case at the same time out of his own pocket. +“No, sir, thank you, I never travel without my two friends here, with +either of which I can break a bottle at the distance of thirty yards. +You will be good enough to tell that to your friends, Mr. Hourigan, and +also to reflect upon it yourself.” + +Having examined his friends, as he called them, he started out and +proceeded directly towards the shrubbery, where, however, there was no +trace whatever of any one. On his way home he met Fergus O'Driscol, who +had been out that morning cock-shooting through the grounds, and to whom +he mentioned the story told by Hourigan. “Why, the lying scoundrel,” + exclaimed Fergus, “I saw him myself speaking to a new laboring lad whom +Mr. Arthur, the steward, sent in there this morning to gather and remove +the rotten underwood. He has only vamped up this story to frighten my +heroic father, and between you and me it is not difficult to do.” + +“I dare say you are right, Fergus, but between you and me again, who is +this new-comer you mention? for you may rest assured that if he be +very intimate with Darby Hourigan, you had as good keep an eye upon him. +Darby is one of the good ones.” + +“I don't even know his name yet,” replied Fergus, “but if we are +to judge by appearances, he is somewhat of Darby's kidney, for a +worse-looking young vagabond I have seldom laid my eyes upon. At all +events I know Hourigan's story to be a lie, for as he came up the avenue +I was in the shrubbery, looking for a cock I shot, which dropped among +the hollies, and there was certainly nobody there but this strange +fellow and Hourigan, both of whom chatted to each other for some +minutes across the hedge; and, by the way, I now remember that they kept +watching about them suspiciously, as if they did not wish to be seen +speaking together. The fact, now that you have mentioned the case, is +evident; I could not be deceived in this matter.” + +“Well then,” said Purcel, “I will tell you how we shall bring that +circumstance to a test: get the strange fellow to walk my horse up and +down the avenue, so as that he must necessarily come in Hourigan's way, +and if they refuse to speak in my presence you may accompany me down +the avenue if you wish--we may take it for granted that there is an +understanding between them and on this account we will say nothing on +our return, but that we failed to see or trace any one, which will be +the truth, you know.” + +Whilst this conversation took place between the two young men, our +worthy magistrate, now that he had an opportunity of recruiting his +courage, withdrew for a moment, accompanied by his servant and clerk, +Sam Finigan. “Sam,” said he, in undisguised trepidation, “my life's not +worth a week's purchase.” + +“That was a threatening letter you received, sir?” said Sam, +inquiringly. + +“The same, Sam. Upon my honor and conscience, they have threatened me +with the fate of Tandrem of Tavnibeg, who got five bullets into him, not +fifty yards from his own door. Get me the brandy then quick, and another +bottle of soda-wather. Good Lord! Sam, see what it is to be an active +and determined magistrate.” + +“Well,” said Sam, after he had placed the brandy and soda-water before +him, “it's one comfort, plaise your honor, that if they shoot your +worship, government will take a glorious revenge upon them. The three +kingdoms will hear of it.” + +“Ay, but, Sam--good Lord!--here's God grant us a long life in the +manetime! but upon my honor and conscience it's not revenge upon my own +murdherers I want, but to be made a Stipendiary. Revenge! Good Lord! +what is revenge to a murdhered man, Sam, maybe with five bullets in him! +Now, Sam, this is not want of courage in me--but--but--mere distress +of mind on looking at the state of the country. A suspicious-looking +villain to be lurking in my own shrubbery, with the very pistols +sticking out of his pocket! Good Lord! I believe I'll take another +half-glass, Sam; I think I feel somewhat more intrepid--more relieved. +Yes, pour me out another half-glass, or a whole one, as your hand is in, +Sam, and take another for yourself.” + +“Thank your worship,” said Sam, who never called him anything else when +exercising, or about to exercise his functions as a magistrate, “here's +the same, your worship--God grant us both--your worship at any rate--a +long life!” + +“And a happy death, Sam; there is no harm to add that to it.” + +“And a happy death, your worship!” + +“Well, Sam, here's the same! And now I think in a few minutes my natural +courage will return; for indeed I'm too kind-hearted, Sam, and too +aisily made feel, as you persave, for the traisonable state of the +country, and of the misguided people. However, I only feel these things +as a man, Sam, as a kind-hearted man, but not as a fearless and resolute +magistrate, Sam: as a magistrate I don't know what fear is.” + +“That's well known, your worship; when you're at the head of a body +of polis or military, every one knows what you are; isn't dare-devil +Driscol, your worship, the best name they have for you?” + +“True enough, Sam; d--n them; a man, especially a magistrate, couldn't +be courageous unknown to them--they'll be sure to find it out. I'm a +good deal relieved, Sam, and--hem--hem--let us proceed to investigate +this important matter of Hourigan's. These Purcels are--hem--ahem--too +much in the habit of violating the law, Sam, and that's not right--it's +illaygal--it's illay-gal, Sam, to violate the law; I say so, and I think +I can't allow such breaches of the”--here, however, the thought of the +conspiracy occurred, and swayed him in a moment against Hourigan. “To be +sure Hourigan's a scoundrel, and deserves a horsewhipping every day he +rises.” + +“True enough, sir; and sure if the Purcels break the law, it is only +upon the people, and arn't the people, your worship, as ready to break +the law as the Purcels! Sorra warrant, then, I'd grant against Misther +John this bout.” + +“And what would you do, Sam?” + +“I'd bind Hourigan over to keep the pace.” + +“I believe you're right, Sam; he's a bad bird, Hourigan; so I think the +best thing to do is to tie his hands up for him.” + +“And if we could tie his tongue up too, your worship, it ought to be +done.” + +Here, on the other hand, the notice he had just received stuck in his +throat, and reduced him to a new perplexity. + +“But then, Sam,” he added, “think of the revengeful spirit that is +abroad. Good Lord! it is awful! Haven't I this moment a threatening +notice on my table? Well,” he added, “if ever a man suffered in the +cause of government as a public man and an active resolute magistrate, +I do; indeed, Sam, if I had known the cares, and troubles, and +responsibilities of my official situation, I am not certain whether I +would not have preferred a private station; but you see government will +find out men of talent and public spirit. If I had less of either, it +isn't threatening letters I'd be resaving this day. Come, then, let us +go to the discharge of our duty, Sam, fearlessly and impartially, as a +man entrusted with great public authority.” + +He accordingly proceeded to the office, a good deal recruited in +courage by the brandy, but by no means altogether relieved from the +apprehensions consequent upon the receipt of the notice and Hourigan's +narrative. + +Fergus and Purcel, on their way from the shrubbery to the house, +fell upon a simpler plan by which to detect Hourigan's falsehood, +and ascertain whether there existed any personal acquaintance or +understanding of any sort between him and the new-comer. + +“Well, John,” said O'Driscol, after once more placing himself with his +usual pomp in his magisterial chair, “have you been able to find any +account or trace of the assassin?” + +“None whatever, sir,” replied Purcel; “neither tale nor tidings of him +could I find.” + +“When did you see him, Hourigan?” asked Fergus; “was it on your way +here?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“In the avenue?” + +“In the avenue, sir, about fifty yards inside the hedge, jist opposite +the hollies.” + +“Why did you not speak to him?” + +“Troth, sir, he had too suspicious a look; for how did I know but it's a +bullet I'd get into, me, if I was only seen obsarvin' or watchin' him?” + +“Then you did not speak to him?” asked Fergus. + +“Faith, you may swear that, sir; that is not the time to pick up strange +acquaintances.” + +The two young friends were now satisfied of Hourigan's falsehood, and +perhaps of his treachery; and a very slight but significant glance to +that effect passed between them. + +“Well, well,” said the magistrate, “we--I mane myself, at any rate--are +well able to protect ourselves. I shall not in future travel unarmed, +and he that--hem--ahem--he that will mistake me for a timid man will +find out his error maybe when it's too late. Come, Hourigan, what charge +is this you have against Mr. Purcel?” + +“Plaise your honor, he abused, and assaulted, and bate me until I didn't +know for a time whether I was alive or dead.” + +“How was that, Hourigan, sir?” + +“Bekaise, your honor, I had not my tides for him.” + +“Now that I look at you, you certainly have the marks of violence about +you. Well, but did you give no provocation, sir? It's not likely +Mr. Purcel would raise his hand to you if he had not resaved strong +provocation at yours.” + +“Sorra word, then, your honor, ever I said to him,--barrin' to tell him +that I hoped he'd have compassion on me and my little family, and not +drive us to ruin for what I wasn't able to pay. He then asked me, was +that the answer I had for him, and not his money, and he does no more +but ups wid his whip and laves me as you see me.” + +“Why, now, you d--d scoundrel!” exclaimed John, “how can you--” + +“Pardon me, Mr. Purcel,” said the magistrate, interrupting him with what +he intended to be dignity, “you forget what is due to the court, sir. +There must be no swearing nor abuse here. The court must be respected, +Mr. Purcel.” + +These words brought a sneer of secret triumph upon Hourigan's features, +that was unquestionably very provoking. + +“I beg to apologize to the court,” replied Purcel, “if for a moment I +have forgotten what is due to it; but, in fact, your worship, there is +not one word of truth in what he says. His language was insolent and +provoking beyond the limits of human patience. He told me that both my +father and myself were dishonest--that we were oppressors of the poor, +and blood-suckers; called us hardhearted and beggarly upstarts, and that +we would sell our Church and our country for filthy lucre and upstart +pride. Instead, your worship, of promising to pay his tithes, he said we +might go to hell for them, and make the devil our paymaster, what he'll +be yet. And further, he said he'd never pay a farthing of them, and set +law, lawyers, police, military, and magistrates all at open defiance. +Now I beg to know, your worship, what loyal and peaceably-disposed +man, that wishes to see the laws of his country, and those respectable +magistrates that administer them, respected--what man, I say, fond of +peace and quietness, could bear such language as that? It is not what he +said of either myself or my family that I contain of, but of the abuse +he heaped upon the law at large, and the independent magistrates of the +country. I certainly, in the heat of the moment, so far resented the +affront offered to the most respectable magistracy of this fine country +as to give him a few slight touches of the whip, more like one in jest, +I assure your worship, than like an angry man.” + +“Hourigan,” said O'Driscol, swelling up to a state of the most pompous +indignation, “this is infamous conduct which he relates of you, sir. How +dare you, sir, or any impudent fellow like you, take the undaicent and +unjustifiable liberty of abusing the independent and loyal magistracy of +Ireland? It is by fellows like you, sir, that traison and sedition are +hatched. Your conduct was gross and monstrous, and if Mr. Purcel had +come to me and made affidavit of the language stated, I would have +consithered it my duty to commit you. Such language, sirra, was +seditious!” + +“Yes,” replied Hourigan, “and you would be right; but there is not one +word of truth in what Mr. Purcel says, your worship; for instead of +that, plaise your reverence, when I threatened to come to you to get the +law against him--'I'll go to Squire Driscol,' says I, 'and that's +the gintleman that will give me justice at any rate.' 'You and Squire +Driscol may go be hanged,' says he; 'I don't regard him a traneen; he +thinks, since he has been made into a justice of pace, that the ground's +not worthy to carry him,' says he. Can you deny that, Mr. John?” + +Purcel's limbs began to move, and his very flesh to creep with +indignation at the impudent but artful falsehoods of Hourigan, who was +likely to succeed in touching the magistrate's weak points with such +effect as to gain him over to his side. + +The worthy official shook his head with a kind of very high-minded +pride, as much as to say, I am far above the level of such observations. + +“Mr. Purcel,” said he--“he--hem--hem--I am sorry to hear that you could +give way to such extramely indiscreet and disrespectful language as +this.” + +“Swear him, sir,” said Purcel, “and let him be put to his oath, for I +protest to heaven, Mr. O'Driscol, and as I am, I trust, an honest man, +I never once mentioned your name, nor was there the slightest allusion +made to it--none, sir, whatever.” + +“The truth is, I should think it very, strange, Mr. Purcel, and very +odd, and very unfriendly and disenganious in you to spake of any +magistrate in such a style as that. However, Sam, take the book and +swear Hourigan.” + +Sam accordingly took the book, and putting it into Hourigan's hand, +said, “You shall make true answers to such questions as shall be put to +you, and swear the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, +so help you God, and one-and-sixpence to me!” + +“Never mind the one-and-sixpence at present, Sam,” said his master, “he +owes you nothing now. Proceed.” + +Hourigan's thumb had the genuine angle on the back of the book, but it +did not escape Sam, who said, “You intend to kiss your thumb, Hourigan, +but it's no go; here, sir, stand there, so that the book won't be a +screen for you; turn round--there now--proceed.” + +Hourigan, finding that the evasion in this instance was impracticable, +gave it a strong, derisive smack that might be heard outside the room. +“I hope,” he added, “you are satisfied now, Mr. Finigan.” + +“I see,” replied Sam, “that you've kissed the book when you were made to +do it; but I see jist as clearly that the sorra much truth are we goin' +to get out of yoU.” + +The case then proceeded; but as it would prove, probably, rather +tiresome to the generality of our readers, we shall not give it at +length. It was quite evident, however, that the plaintiff and defendant +both were well acquainted with the vacillating and timid character of +the magistrate, who in the case before us was uniformly swayed by the +words of the last speaker; and it was equally evident that each speaker +so shaped his arguments as that they might the more effectually bear +upon O'Driscol's weak points. + +“Hem--hem--this, I persave, turns out to be a very important and +difficult case, Mr. Purcel--a very difficult case, Hourigan--a--a--a +case indeed that requires great deliberation and coolness. Here is +strong provocation on one hand, and prompt punishment on the other. Can +you swear, Mr. Purcel, to the accuracy and substance of the language you +say Hourigan uttered?” + +“Certainly, sir, without hesitation.” + +“Because if he does, Hourigan, I shall be obliged, according to Act of +Parliament, sir--” + +Hourigan interrupted him by a groan, and a rather significant shrug. + +“What do you shrug and groan for, sir?” asked the man of law, who felt +both acts incompatible with the respect due to the court. + +“Mavrone!” exclaimed Hourigan, “acts of Parliament! oh! thin many a +bitther piece of cruelty and injustice has been practised upon us by Act +o' Parliament!” + +“Ho, you traisonable villain!” exclaimed the other--“what sedition is +this?” + +“It is sich Acts o' Parliament,” said the adroit knave, “that gets +good men and good magistrates shot like dogs, an' that has brought the +counthry to the fearful pass it's in, I wisht myself I was out of it, +for the people is beginnin' to single out sich magistrates as they'll +shoot, as if their lives worn't worth a rat's.” + +“Ah!--hem--hem--Hourigan, you are a d--d ras--hem simple-hearted fellow, +I think, or you wouldn't spake as you do. + +“But an I to get not justice sir, against the man that left me as you +see me. Is the poor man, sir, to be horse-whipped and cut up at the will +an' pleasure of the rich, an'not to get either law or justice?” + +O'Driscol's face was now a picture of most ludicrous embarrassment and +distress. + +“Certainly, Hourigan, I shall--hem--I shall always administer justice +impartially--impartially--no one can question that. Your case,” he +added--(for we must say here that Hourigan's language brought back to +his mind all the horrors of Tandrem's death, as well as that threatened +to himself in the recent notice)--“your case, Hourigan is a difficult +and peculiar one, poor man!” + +“Hourigan, my good fellow,” said Purcel, “take care of what you are +about. Don't be too certain that some of your neighbors won't find you, +before you are much older, in the centre of a deep-laid conspiracy; and +perhaps the government of the country may have an opportunity before +long to thank and reward those who will have it exposed and broken up. +Do you understand me?” + +Purcel, while he spoke, kept his eyes fixed very significantly upon the +magistrate, to whose imagination a long and interesting correspondence +with his friend, the Castle, started immediately forth, appended to +which were votes of thanks, flattering testimonies, together with a +stipendiary magistracy, with a full retiring pension, and an appointment +for his son, in the background. + +“He has made use of that language to intimidate your worship,” proceeded +Purcel, but I think he ought to know you better.” + +“Sir,” said O'Driscol, addressing Hourigan, “what did you mane by +talking about shooting magistrates? Do you think, sirrah, to frighten +me--Fitzgerald O'Driscol--from discharging my duty?” + +“Frighten, you, sir! oh! bedad, your honor, you aren't the gintleman for +that.” + +“No, sir, I believe not--I believe not, Hourigan; no, my poor man, I am +not indeed. Hourigan, you are not an uncivil person, but why refuse to +pay your tithes? You are well able to do it.” + +“Why, bekaise I daren't, sir; if I did--talkin' about shootin'--it's +a round lump of lead I would find in my stomach instead o' my poor +breakfast, some o' these days.” + +“I don't doubt but he is right enough there, your worship,” observed +Purcel, “there's a conspiracy--” + +“Yes,” exclaimed the magistrate, “oh! ay!--yes!--hem--a conspiracy! +Well--no matter--let it rest for a little. Well--as this case is one +of great difficulty, involving several profound points of law, I would +recommend you to make it up, and be friends. Hourigan, you will forgive +Mr. Purcel, who is hasty but generous. You will forgive him, I say, and +he will give you something in the shape of a--salve for your wounds. +Come, forgive him, Hourigan, and I will overlook, on my part, the +seditious language you used against the Irish magistracy; and, besides, +you will make me your friend.” + +“Forgive him, sir!” said Hourigan, shrugging himself, and putting up his +hand to feel the welts of black and blue which intersected each other +upon his countenance and shoulders. “An' maybe it's half-a-crown he'll +threwn me.” + +“No, no, Hourigan, I'll guarantee for him that he'll treat you +liberally: one good turn deserves another, you know.” + +“Well, then, let him say what he'll give me.” + +“There's a pound-note for you,” said Purcel, flinging it across the +table. “If you take that, you may, but if not, I'll give no more. +Your worship, this, you perceive, is cross-case, and if you receive +examination on the one side, you will, of course, upon the other?” + +“True,” replied O'Driscol, who had not thought of this, and who +seized upon it as a perfect relief to him; “true, Mr. Purcel, it is a +cross-case, and so I understand it. Let me recommend you to take the +money, Hourigan.” + +“Well, then, your honor, I will, on your account, and bekaise, as your +worship says, bekaise one good tarn desarues another, an' ought to get +it. I'm satisfied for the present.” And as he spoke, he turned, in a +skulking, furtive manner, such a look upon Purcel as we will not attempt +to describe. + +“Now, Hourigan,” said O'Driscol, “I am glad I have settled this matter +in your favor. If I had taken Mr. Purcel's informations, you would have +certainly been transported; but the truth is, and I trust you have +seen it this day, and will allow it, that in my magisterial capacity, +although just and impartial I hope, yet, still, whenever I can with +raison, I am always disposed to lane towards the poor man, and be the +poor man's magistrate--hem--ahem!” + +“Yes, plaise your honor,” said Hourigan, rather drily, “but it's so hard +to make the people at large believe the truth, sir. Good-mornin', +your worship, an' many thanks for the illigant justice you gave me. +Good-mornin' you, too, Misther Purcel; I hope we'll be betther friends, +sir.” + +“And I hope you will pay your tithes, and keep a civiler tongue in your +head,” replied the latter, as Hourigan left the office. + +Before this weighty matter was determined, Fergus O'Driscol, although +satisfied that Hourigan and their new laborer were acquainted, resolved +to corroborate his evidence of the fact, if possible, and for this +purpose he sent the fellow, as had been agreed on, to walk Purcel's +horse up and down the lower part of the avenue, near the entrance gate, +which was somewhat secluded and not within view of the house, for the +avenue was a winding one. In the meantime he stationed himself in a +clump of trees, to which he went by a back walk in the shrubbery that +was concealed from that part of the avenue. Here, we say, he stationed +himself to watch these worthies, but, unfortunately, at too great a +distance to hear their conversation, should they speak and recognize +each other. On this subject he was not permitted to remain long in +suspense. Hourigan soon made his appearance, and, on approaching the +stringer, looked cautiously about him in every direction, whilst the +latter, who had been walking Purcel's horse towards the house, suddenly +turned back, and kept conversing with Hourigan until they reached the +entrance gate, where they stood for about ten minutes in close and +evidently confidential dialogue, as was clear from their watching in all +directions, to make certain that they were not observed. They then +shook hands, cordially, and Hourigan bent his steps towards the town of +Lisnagola. Fergus, who had seen all their motions most distinctly, took +occasion to pass up the avenue a few minutes afterwards, where he met +the stranger still leading Purcel's horse. + +“What's your name, my good fellow?” he asked. + +“Phil Hart, sir.” + +“Do you know if the man who summoned Mr. Purcel before my father has +gone out?” + +“I don't know, plaise your honor.” + +“Did any person go out within the last few minutes?” + +“Yes, sir, there went a man out; maybe it was him.” + +“You don't know Hourigan's appearance, then?” + +“No, sir. Hourigan, was that his name?” + +“Yes. Are you a native of this county?” + +“Not exactly, sir; but I have friends in it.” + +“Who are they?” + +“The Ahernes, sir, up in the mountains behind Lisnagola beyant.” + +“And who recommended you to Mr. Arthur?” + +“His brother-in-law, sir, one Frank Finnerty, in the mountains above; +that is, they're both marrid upon the two shisthers, plaise your honor.” + +“And what caused you to leave your native place?” + +“Why, sir, my father houlds a bit o' land; he owed some tithe, sir, +and--” + +“Would not pay it; they consequently took proceedings--you resisted the +execution of the law, and then you had to run for it.” + +“Well, not exactly, sir.” + +“How was it, then?” + +“Why, sir, we paid the tithes; an' whin this was discovered, I, at any +rate, had to run for it. The people, your honor, found out that it was I +that ped them, an' I was glad, of coorse, to fly for my life. I'd thank +you, sir, to keep what I tould you to yourself, for even if it was known +in this neighborhood that I ped them, I wouldn't be safe.” + +“You don't know Hourigan, then?” + +“How could I, sir, and me a sthranger?” + +“Faith, and whether you do or not, it seems to me there's a strong +family likeness between you and him.” + +“Maybe so,” the fellow replied, with a grin. “I hear my father say that +he sartinly was down in this counthry when he was sowin' his wild oats:” + and with this observation he passed on with the horse he was leading. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII.--An Unreformed Church + +--The Value of Public Opinion--Be not Familiar with the Great + + +Recent circumstances have, unfortunately, shown us the danger of +tampering with, and stimulating, the blind impulses of ignorant +prejudice and popular passion beyond that limit where the powers +of restraint cease to operate with effect. At the period which our +narrative has now reached, and for a considerable time before it, those +low rumblings which stunned and frightened the ear of civilized society, +like the ominous sounds that precede an earthquake, were now followed by +those tremblings and undulations which accompany the shock itself. +But before we describe that social condition to which we refer, it is +necessary that we should previously raise the vail a little, which time +has drawn between us and the condition of the Established Church, not +merely at that crisis, but for a long period before it. This we shall +do as briefly as possible, because we feel that it is an exceedingly +unpleasant task to contemplate a picture which presents to us points of +observation that are, from their very nature, painful to look upon--and +features so secular and carnal, that scarcely any language could +exaggerate, much less distort them. + +The Established Church in Ireland, then, in its unpurged and unreformed +state, was very little else than a mere political engine for supporting +and fostering British interests and English principles in this country; +and no one, here had any great chance of preferment in it who did not +signalize himself some way in favor of British policy. The Establishment +was indeed the only bond that bound the political interests of the two +nations together. But if any person will now venture to form an opinion +of the Irish Church from her gorgeousness and immense wealth at that +period, he will unquestionably find that what ought to have been a +spiritual, pure, holy, self-denying, and zealous Church, was +neither more nor less than an overgrown, proud, idle, and indolent +Establishment, bloated by ease and indulgence, and corrupted almost to +the very core by secular and political prostitution. The state of the +Establishment was indeed equally anomalous and disgraceful. So jealous +was England, and at the same time so rapacious of its wealth, that it +was parcelled out to Englishmen without either shame or scruple, +whilst Irish piety and learning, when they did happen to be found, were +uniformly overlooked and disregarded. All the ecclesiastical offices of +dignity and emolument were bestowed upon Englishmen; upon men who lived +here with reluctance, and but seldom--who had no sympathy with the +country or its inhabitants--nay, who looked upon us, in general, with +feeling of hostility and contempt; and who, by example or precept, +rendered no earthly equivalent for the enormous sums that were drawn +from a poor and struggling people. It is idle to say that these +prodigious ecclesiastical revenues were not paid by the people, but by +the landlord, who, if the people had not paid them, would have +added them to the rent. But even so--the straggling peasant reasoned +naturally, for he felt it to be one thing to pay even a high rent to the +landlord, whose rights, as such, he acknowledged, but a very different +thing to pay forth out of his own pocket a tenth of his produce to the +pastor of a hostile creed, which had little sympathy with him, for +which he received no spiritual equivalent, and on which, besides, he was +taught to look as a gross and ungodly heresy. + +But this was not the worst of it. In the discussion of this subject, it +is rather hazardous for the champion of our former Establishment to make +any allusion to the landlord at all; the fact unfortunately being, that +in the management and disposal of land, the landlords, in general, were +gifted with a very convenient forgetfulness that such a demand as tithe +was to come upon the tenant at all. The land in general was let as if it +had been tithe-free, whilst, at the same time, and in precisely the same +grasping spirit, it so happened, that wherever it was tithe-free the +rents exacted were also enormous, and seen as--supposing tithe had +not an existence--no country ever could suffer to become the basis +of valuation, or to settle down into a system. In fact, such was the +spirit, and so profligate the condition of the Established Church for a +long lapse of time, both before and after the Union, that we may lay +it down as a general principle, that everything was rewarded in it but +piety and learning. + +If there were anything wanting to prove the truth and accuracy of our +statements, it would be found in the bitter and relentless spirit with +which the Established Church and her pastors were assailed, at the +period of which we write. And let it be observed here, that even then, +the Church in this country, in spirit, in learning, in zeal, and piety, +was an angel of purity compared to what she had been twenty or thirty +years before. The course of clerical education had been defined, +established, and extended; young profligates could not enter the Church, +as in the good old times, without any earthly preparation, either +in learning or morals. They were obliged to read, and thoroughly to +understand, an extensive and enlightened course of divinity--to attend +lectures and entitle themselves, both by attendance and answering, to +a certain number of certificates, without which they had no chance for +orders. In point of fact, they were forced to become serious; and +the consequences soon began to appear in the general character of the +Church. Much piety, activity, learning, and earnest labor were to be +found in it; and indeed, we may venture to say, that, with the exception +of her carnal and debasing wealth, she had been purified and reformed to +a very considerable extent, even then. Still, however, the bloated mass +of mammon hung about her, prostrating her energies, secularizing her +spirit, and, we must add, oppressing the people, out of whose pockets it +was forced to come. When the calamity, therefore, which the reader +may perceive is partly upon and impending over, the Protestant clergy, +actually occurred, it did not find them unprepared, nor without the +sympathy of many of the very people who were forced by the tyrannical +influence of party feeling to oppose them publicly. To their sufferings +and unexampled patience, however, we shall be obliged to refer, at a +subsequent period of our narrative; and for that reason, we dismiss it +for the present. + +Such, then, was the state of the Protestant Established Church for +a considerable length of time before the tithe agitation, and also +immediately preceding it; and we deemed it necessary to make the reader +acquainted with both, in order that he may the better understand the +nature and spirit of the almost universal assault which was, by at least +one party--the Roman Catholic--so furiously made upon it. At the present +period of our narrative, then, the population of the country, especially +of the South and West, had arrived at that state of agitation, which, +whether its object be legitimate or not, is certain, in a short time, to +brutalize the public mind and debauch the public morals, by removing all +the conscientious impediments which religion places against crime, +and consequently all scruple in committing it. Heretofore, those vile +societies of a secret nature, that disgrace the country and debase +the character of her people, existed frequently under separate +denominations, and for distinct objects. Now, however, they all +consented to abandon these peculiar purposes, and to coalesce into one +great conspiracy against the destruction of the Establishment. We do not +mean to assert, however, that this general outcry against the Church, +and its accompanying onslaught on her property, originated directly with +the people. No such thing; the people, as they always are, and, we fear, +ever will be, were mere instruments in the hands of a host of lay and +clerical agitators; and no argument was left unattempted or unurged to +hound them on to the destruction of the Establishment. From the Corn +Exchange down to the meanest and most obscure tribunal of agitation +throughout the kingdom, the virtues of passive resistance were +inculcated and preached, and the great champion of popular rights told +the people publicly and repeatedly that they might not be afraid +to follow his advice, for that it mattered little how oppressive or +stringent any act of parliament in defence of the Established Church +might be, he would undertake to drive a coach and six through the very +severest of its penalties. Nor were the Catholic priesthood idle during +these times of storm and commotion. At the head of them, and foremost +in both ability and hatred of tithes, stood the late Dr. Doyle, the +celebrated J.K.L. of that day, Bishop of Kildare and Leighlin; a man to +whose great intellectual powers the country at large chiefly owes the +settlement of that most difficult and important question. This able +prelate assailed the system with a fiery vehemence that absolutely set +the country in a blaze, and reduced the wealthy Establishment to a +case of the most unprecedented distress. Who can forget that memorable +apothegm to the Irish people on the subject? “Let your hatred of +tithes,” he said, “be as lasting as your sense of justice.” + +Unfortunately it is an easy task to instruct or tempt the Irish peasant +to violate the law, especially when sanctioned, in that violation, by +those whose opinion and advice he takes as the standard of his conduct. +Be this as it may, the state of the country was now becoming frightful +and portentous; and although there had not, as yet, been much blood +shed, still there was no person acquainted with the extraordinary pains +which were taken to excite the people against the payment of tithe, +who was not able to anticipate the terrible outburst and sanguinary +slaughters which soon followed. + +We have already detailed a midnight meeting of the anti-tithe +confederacy; but so confident had the people soon become in the +principle of general unanimity against the payment of this impost, that +they did not hesitate to traverse the country in open day by thousands; +thus setting not only law, but all the powers of the country by which it +is usually carried out and supported, at complete defiance. + +Threatening letters, and notices of violent death, signed with blood, +and containing the form of a coffin, were sent to all such as were in +any way obnoxious, or, what was the same thing, who were in any way +disposed either to pay tithes or exact them. + +In this state matters were, when, one morning about a week after the +scene we have just described in O'Driscol's office, a dialogue to the +following effect took place in the proctor's immense farm-yard, between +our friend Mogue Moylan and his quondam sweetheart, Letty Lenehan. +Letty, of late, that is since the morning of the peddler's conversation +with Mogue, had observed that some unaccountable change had taken place +in his whole manner, not only towards herself, but in his intercourse +with the rest of his fellow-servants. He was for instance, much more +silent that he had ever been: but although he spoke less, he appeared to +think more; yet it might be observed, that whatever the subject of his +thoughts was, it evidently had diffused a singular degree of serenity, +and a peculiarly striking complacency through his whole manner. With +respect to herself he had ascended from the lover into the patron; and +although she had been amusing herself at his expense throughout their +previous courtship, if it could be termed such, yet she felt no less +puzzled as to the cause of such a change, and quite as anxious to +ascertain it. + +On the morning in question, Mogue and Jerry Joyce had been engaged in +winnowing a large quantity of wheat in the barn. Jerry, whose manner was +ostensibly that of a soft, simple young fellow, and whom but few looked +upon as possessed of the ordinary run of common sense, was treated by +Mogue, and indeed by most, but not all of his fellow servants, as one +would treat a young lad who had not yet arrived at years of discretion, +or maturity of judgment. + +“Jerry,” said Mogue, “why but you do be cortin' the girls, man alive? +That I may never sin but it's a great thing to have them fond o' one.” + +“Ay,” replied Jerry, who was perfectly well aware of his foible, “if I +had the art of sootherin' and puttin' my comedher an thim like some o' +my acquaintances; but, me! is it foolish Jerry Joyce they'd care about? +Oh, no! begor that cock wouldn't fight.” + +“Your acquaintances!” exclaimed Mogue, seizing upon the term, in +Jerry's reply, which he knew referred to himself, “and which of your +acquaintances, now, does be sootherin' an' puttin' his comedher an' +them, eh, Jerry?” + +“Oh! dear me, Mogue,” replied the other, “how droll you are! As if you +thought I didn't mane one Mogue Moylan that they're tearin' their caps +about every day in the week.” + +“Tearin' their caps! arrah, who is, Jerry?” + +“Why, the girls.” + +“The girls! Och! man, sure that's an ould story; but I declare it to +you, Jerry, it isn't my fault; it's a nateral gift wid me, for I take no +pains to make them fond o' me; that I may never do harm if I do.” + +“An' how does it, happen that they are? Sure there's Letty, now--poor +Letty Lenehan--an' God help her! sure, for the last week, she appears to +me to be breakin' her heart. She doesn't say af coorse, that you're the +occasion of it; but doesn't every one of us know that you are? Have you +been could to her, or what? + +“Why thin, now, Jerry, I declare it to you that I'm heart sorry for poor +Letty; but what can I do? I amn't my own man, now, do you hear that?” + +“Sure you don't mane to say that you're married?” + +“Not exactly married; but listen hither, Jerry--you don't know the man +you're spakin' to--it's a gift that God gave me--but, you don't know the +man you're spakin' to; however as for poor Letty, I'll provide for her +some way--the poor affectionate crature; an' she's good-lookin' too; +however, as I said, I'll do something for her some way,” and here he +nodded and winked with most villainous significance. + +If Jerry had not fully comprehended the scoundrel's character, it is +very probable that this language would have caused him to give the +hypocritical villain a sound drubbing; for it must be known to our +readers, that Jerry and Letty were faithfully attached to each other--a +circumstance which was also known to the whole family, and which +nothing could have prevented Mogue from observing but his own blind and +egregious vanity. + +“But what do you mane, Mogue, when you say you aren't your own man!” + +“I can't tell you; but the thruth is, Jerry--poor, good-natured +Jerry--that every man ought to look high, especially when he sees the +regard that's for him, and especially, too, when God--blessed be his +name--has gifted him as some people is gifted. There's a man hereabouts +that thinks he could put my nose out o' joint. Oh! it's a great thing, +Jerry, to have nice, ginteel, thin features, that won't spoil by the +weather. Throth, red cheeks or a white skin in a man isn't becomin'; an' +as for larnin', Jerry, it may require a long time to take it in, but a +very little hole would soon let it all out. May I never do harm but I'm +glad that job's over,” alluding to the employment at which they were +engaged. “Oh! then, but that's a fine cast o' whate!” + +“It is,” replied Jerry; “but in regard to the larnin' I don't +undherstand you.” + +“No matther for that, Jerry, I may be a good friend to you yet; ay, +indeed may I--poor good-natured Jerry; an' when that time comes, if you +have any scruple in axin' Misther Moylan to countenance you and befriend +you, why it'll be your own fault my poor, good-natured Jerry.” + +“Many thanks, Misther Moylan,” replied Jerry, assuming a gravity +which he could scarcely maintain, “remember that you don't forget your +promise. I'm goin' over to get the sacks from Misther John; an' by the +way, aren't you goin' out to-day to shoot wid Misther M'Carthy?” + +“Well, I declare, I believe I am; I know the mountains well, an' I'm +fond of seein' fun, or of hearin' of it, any way.” + +Jerry then departed, and Mogue, now left to himself, exclaimed in +a soliloquy, “Ay, an' if I don't see it this night, I'll hear of it +to-morrow, I hope. Mr. M'Carthy, you're in my way; but as I said to that +poor _omadhawn_, although it took many a year to get the larnin' into +that head of yours, one little hole will soon let it out again.” As +Mogue uttered the last words, the ear of Letty Lenehan was somewhat +nearer him than he imagined. She had come to call them to breakfast, and +seeing that the back-door of the barn was open, she approached it, as +being nearest to her, and on peeping in, half disposed for a piece of +frolic, she heard Mogue utter the soliloquy we have just repeated; but +as he stood with his back towards her, he was not at all aware that she +was present, or had heard him. + +Immediately after breakfast, Mogue and M'Carthy set out for the +mountains, the latter furnished with all the necessary equipments for +the sport, and the former carrying a game-bag and refreshments; for +as M'Carthy knew that it must be the last day he could devote to such +amusements, he resolved to have a good day's sport, if possible. + +“Now, Mogue,” said his companion, “you are much better acquainted with +these mountains than I am, and with those places where we may be likely +to find most game. I, therefore, place myself in your hands for the +day.” + +“Well, indeed I ought, sir, to know them,” replied Mogue, “and I believe +I do; and talkin' of that, you have often heard of the great robber and +rapparee, Shaun Bernha?” + +“I have heard of him, and of his Stables, which lie up somewhere in +these mountains.” + +“Exactly, sir; an' it is what I was thinkin'; that we might take a look +at them in the coorse of our sport to-day; in regard, especially, that +there's more game about them than in any other part of the mountains.” + +“Very well, then, Mogue,” replied his companion, “so be it; you are, as +I said, my guide for the day.” + +“But do you know, sir, why he was called Shaun Bernha?” + +“No, I can't say I do.” + +“It was odd enough, to be sure. Howandever, may I be happy but they say +it's true! You see, sir, he was called Shaun Bernha bekaise he never had +a tooth in his head; an' no more had any of his family; and yet, sir, +it's said, that he could bite a piece out of a plate of sheet iron as +aisily as you or I could out a cake of gingerbread.” + +“Well, Morgue, all that I can say to that is, that he had devilish hard +gums, and stood in no fear of the toothache.” + +“Well, then, we'll sweep around the slebeen hills here, keepin' +Altnaveenan to our right, and Lough Mocall to our left; then, by going +right ahead we'll come to his stables; and indeed they're well worth +seein'.” + +“With all my heart, Mague, never say it again.” And they accordingly +proceeded at a vigorous pace to the mountains, which were now distant +not more than a mile and a half from them. + +In the meantime we shall leave them to pursue their game, and beg our +readers to accompany us once more to the house of our friend, Fitzy +O'Driscol, who, what between the dread of assassination on the one +hand, and the delight of having a proper subject to justify him in +communicating with the government on the other, passed his time in +alterations, now of fear, and again of his peculiar ambition to be +recognized as an active and fearless magistrate by the then existing +powers, that were, to such as knew the man and understood his character, +perfectly ludicrous. On the morning in question, he was, as usual, +seated, in his morning-gown and slippers, at the breakfast-table, +reading a country paper, in which, by the way, appeared the following +paragraph:-- + +“TURBULENT STATE OR THE COUNTRY.--We regret to say, that the state of +the country is every day becoming more and more unsettled. A few +days ago, whilst one of our excellent and most resolute magistrates, +Fitzgerald O'Driscol, Esq., was engaged in his office, determining an +important case of assault that came before him, and which he did, as he +usually does, to the perfect satisfaction of the parties, he received, a +threatening notice, couched in most violent language, in fact, breathing +of blood and assassination! Why a gentleman of such high magisterial +character as Mr. O'Driscol should have been selected as an object of +popular vengeance, we do not understand. Mr. O'Driscol combines in +himself all those qualities that are peculiarly suited to the discharge +of his duties in such distracted times as the present. Whilst firm and +intrepid, almost to a miracle, he is at the same time easy of access, +impartial, and kind to his humble countrymen, to whom he has uniformly +proved himself mild and indulgent, so far as justice--which by the way, +he always tempers with mercy--will allow him; and in consequence of +this, he is uniformly known, and deserves to be known, as the poor man's +magistrate. It is true, he is known also to be a man of highly loyal and +constitutional principles; a warm friend to order, peace, and a resolute +supporter of the laws of the land--qualities which are looked upon as +crimes by the resolute and disloyal among our kind-hearted but misguided +people. Of one thing, however, he would beg to apprise the mistaken +individuals who have ventured to threaten him, and that is, to take care +how they attempt to put their foolish threats into execution against so +daring and desperate a man as Mr. O'Driscol is when provoked. He goes +well armed, is a dead shot, and would feel deeply grieved at having the +blood of any of his mistaken countrymen on his hands. This we say from +what we know of Mr. O'Driscol, both as a man and as a magistrate. In +further connection with the state of the country, we cannot think but +that government, if made properly acquainted with it, would place some +mild, firm, but fearless and resolute stipendiary magistrate in our +neighborhood; we mean, of course, a man who is capable, by the peculiar +qualities of his character, to make himself an instrument of great +public good, both to the people and the government. Such a man we know; +but as we are writing without either his knowledge or consent, we do not +feel ourselves called upon to pursue this important subject further. +All we can say is, that the violent opposition which is now organized +against tithes, and which is already beginning to convulse the country, +will, and even now does require, the active courage and decided +abilities of such a man.” + +“Well, now, Catherine,” said he, addressing his daughter, who sat near +him, “upon my honor and conscience that was a friendly paragraph of my +friend Swiggerly--extremely so, indeed. The fact is, a dinner and a good +jorum is never thrown away upon honest Swiggerly; for which raison I'll +ask him to dine here on Thursday next.” + +He then handed her the paper, pointing out the paragraph in question, +which she read with something of an arch smile, and which, on her +brother Fergus (who had been to Lisnagola) joining them, she handed to +him. + +“Fergus,” said she, looking at him with an expression of character +still more comic, but yet sufficiently subdued to prevent O'Driscol from +observing it, “is not that paragraph very complimentary to papa?” + +Fergus, who at once reciprocated the comic glance alluded to, replied +rather significantly, “It is certainly very gratifying to him, +Catherine.” + +“And very creditable to Swiggerly,” added O'Driscol. + +“Yes, father,” replied Fergus, “but I think he ought to preserve, if +possible, a little more originality. The substance of that paragraph has +been regularly in his paper, in one shape or other, three or four +times a year during the last couple of years. I ought to except the +introduction of the threatening notice, which certainly is a new +feature, and the only new one in it.” + +“Fergus,” said the father, whilst his round, red, convivial features +became more inflamed, “you are super-critical this morning.” + +“Not at all, sir; but you will excuse me for saying, that I think a man +who is seeking to ingratiate himself with the government, what is more, +to receive substantial favors from it, ought not, from principles of +self-respect, to suffer these stereotyped paragraphs to appear from +time to time. Government is not so blind, sir, but they will at once see +through the object of such paragraphs.” + +“Staryrayotyped! What the devil, sir, do you mane by staryrayotype? +Do you mane to make a staryrayotype of me? That's dutiful, Mr. +Fergus--filial duty, clane and clear--and no doubt about it. But I tell +you, sir, that in spite of your staryrayotypes, it is such articles as +the able one of my friend Swiggerly that constitutes the force of public +opinion. Government! Why, sir, the government is undher more obligations +to me than I am to them. It was my activity and loyalty that was the +manes, principally, of returnin' the son of the gustus ratalorum of the +county for the borough of Addleborough. He was their own candidate; and +if that wasn't layin' them undher an obligation to me, I don't know what +was. You may say what you like, but I repate, it's a right good, thing +to have the force of public opinion in your favor.” + +“Yes, of public opinion, I grant you; but surely you cannot pretend, +father, that such gross and barefaced flattery as that can be termed +public opinion?” + +“And why not, sir? Upon my honor and conscience, things is come to a +pretty pass when a man--a magistrate--like me, must be lectured by his +own son! Isn't it too bad, Catherine?” + +“I am no politician, you know, but I think he doesn't mean to lecture +you, papa; perhaps you ought to say to reason or remonstrate with--” + +“Raison! remonstrate! And what right has he aither to raison or +remonstrate with a man--or rather a magistrate--such as I am known +by the government to be. He calls that paragraph gross and barefaced +flattery, and myself a staryrayotype! but I tell him now that it is no +flattery, nor anything at all but the downright naked thruth, and no man +ought to know that better than I do, for this good raison, that it was +myself wrote every line of it, and got Swiggerly only to correct it.” + +A deep and crimson blush overspread his daughter's face on hearing this +mean and degrading admission; and Fergus, who was in the act of bringing +a bit of ham to his mouth, suddenly laid it down again, then looked +first at Catherine, then at his father, several times in succession. The +good-humored girl, however, whose merry heart and light spirits always +disposed her to look at the pleasant side of everything, suddenly +glancing at the red, indignant face with which her father, in the heat +of argument, and in order to illustrate the truth of public opinion in +this instance, had made the acknowledgment--all at once, and before +the rosy blush had departed from her beautiful face, burst out into +a ringing and merry laugh, which Fergus felt to be contagious and +irresistible. On glancing again at his father, he joined her in the +mirth, and both laughed long and heartily. + +“And so, father,” proceeded Fergus, “you bring us a paragraph written by +yourself, to illustrate the value of public opinion; but believe me, +my dear father, and I mean it with all respect, these puffs, whether +written by one's self or others--these political puffs I say, like +literary ones, always do more harm than good to the object they are +intended to serve.” + +“Never you mind that, Fergus, my boy, I know how to play my game, +I think; and besides, don't you know, I expect a snug-morsel from +government for yourself, my boy; yet you never consider that--not you.” + +“But, my dear father, I never wish to hear a respectable man like you +acknowledge that he is playing a game at all; it reminds me of the +cringing, sycophantic, and prostitute crew of political gamblers and +manoeuvrers, by whom, not only this government, but every other, is +perpetually assailed and infested, and amongst which crew it would +grieve me to think that you should be included. As to myself, if I ever +get anything from government, it must not come to me through any of +those arrangements by which trick and management, not to say dishonesty +and conniption, are, to the shame of all parties, so frequently +rewarded. With a slight change upon Pope, I say-- + + “'Grant me honest place, or grant me none.'” + +“Pope! What the devil do I care about his opinions? let him preach and +stick to his controversy with Father Tom--from whom he hadn't so +much to brag of--but as for you, Fergus, you are, to spake plainly, a +thorough ass. What d--d stuff you have been letting out of you! Go and +find, if you can, some purer world for yourself to live in, for, let +me tell you, you are not fit for this. There is no perfection here, +Catherine, is there?” + +“Oh, yes, Papa! certainly.” + +“There is--is there? Well, upon my honor and conscience, now, this is +the first time I've heard that argument used. Come, then, how do you +prove it--eh?” + +“There is perfection, papa, occasionally at least, to be found +among women, and--you certainly, sir, cannot deny the truth of +this--occasionally, too, among magistrates--ha ha! ha!” + +“Ah! Kate, I know you of old! Very good that--extremely good, upon my +word However, as I was saying, if you don't act and think as the world +about you acts and thinks, you had as good, as I said, get a betther one +if you can. Here, now, I see Mat Purcel coming up the avenue; and as +I want to have some private conversation with him, I must be off to +my office, where I desire you to send him to me. There's a time for +everything, they say, and a place for everything--I hope, Fergy, you and +I will have occasion, before long, to say, a place for some--ha! ha! ha! +Well, as I said, there's a place for everything! and I don't think it +would become me to spake upon official business anywhere but in my own +office. We must not only do our business properly, but look like it.” + +Purcel found our pompous little man enveloped, as we have already said, +in a most fashionable morning-gown and embroidered slippers, and at the +same time busily engaged in writing. + +“How do you do, Mr. Purcel?” said he; “will you excuse me for about +three minutes, till I finish this paragraph, after which I am at your +service?” + +“Certainly,” said Purcel, “I'm in no hurry, Fitzy, my boy.” + +“Here,” continued the other, “amuse yourself with that paper. By the +way, there's a flattering notice there of your humble servant, by our +friend Swiggerly, who certainly is a man of sound judgment and ability.” + +“I won't interrupt you now,” replied the proctor; “but I will tell you +my opinion of him by and by.” + +The magistrate then proceeded to finish his paragraph, as he said, by +his important manner of doing which, Purcel, who thoroughly understood +him, was much amused. He frequently paused for instance, placed his chin +in the end of his half-closed hand, somewhat like an egg in an egg-cup, +looked in a meditative mood into Purcel's face, without appearing to see +him at all; then went over to the library, which ought rather to have +been pronounced his son's than his; and after having consulted a book--a +Latin Horace, which by the way he opened at the art of poetry, of which +volume it is, we presume, unnecessary to say, he did not understand +a syllable, he returned to his desk seemingly satisfied, and wrote on +until he had concluded the passage he was composing. He read it once in +silence, then nodded his head complacently, as if satisfied with what +he had Written, after which he rubbed his hands and closing the desk +exclaimed, “D--n all governments, Mr. Purcel, and I wish to heaven there +never had been a magistrate in Ireland.” + +“Why, what kind of doctrine is this, Fitzy,” exclaimed his friend, +“especially from such a loyal man and active magistrate as you are.” + +“D--n loyalty too, Mr. Purcel, it's breakin' my heart and will break +it--I think I'll emigrate to America before they kill me here.” + +“Why, to tell you the truth, my dear Fitzy, I was a good deal alarmed +when I heard of that ugly notice you got; but it's not every man would +have borne the thing with such courage as you did.” + +“Thank you, Mister Purcel, I feel that as a compliment coming from you; +and by the way, I haven't forgotten to mention you with praise in +my correspondence with the Castle. However--ha! ha! ha! you rather +misunderstood me--I mane to say that the life is worn out of me, by our +present government--Good God! my friend, surely they ought to know that +there's plenty of magistrates in the country besides myself, that could +give them the information they want upon the state of the country, and +the steps they ought to take to tranquillize it, as well as I could; I +can't, however, get them to think so, and the consequence is that that +d--n Castle can't rub its elbow without consulting, me.” + +“Well,” replied Purcel, “you are to blame yourself for it; if you were +not so loyal, and zealous, and courageous too, as you are, they would +let you alone and leave you to peace and quietness, as they do other +people.” + +“Upon my honor and conscience, it's little pace or quietness they +leave me, then; but I agree with you, that the whole cause of it is +my well-known loyal principle and surprising activity in keeping down +disturbance and sedition. Widow Cleary's affair was an unlucky one for +me, and indeed, Mat, it was the activity and resolution that I displayed +in making herself and her spawn of ragged brats prisoners at the head +of the Possy Comeatus, aided by the military, that first brought me into +notice with the Castle.” + +The proctor, who feared now that he had mounted his hobby, and that he +would inflict on him, as he was in the habit of doing after dinner, a +long-winded series of his magisterial exploits, reminded him that he had +expressed a wish to see him on very important business. + +“I wouldn't care,” he added, “but the truth is, Fitzy, I am pressed for +want of time, as I should have been at the bishop's court, where I +have cited several of these tithe rebels long before this. What is the +business, then?” + +“It is a matter, my dear Mr. Purcel--” + +“Why the devil do you Mr. Purcel me?” asked the proctor, warmly. “It was +formerly Mat and Fitzy between us, and I don't see why it should not be +so still.” + +“Hem--ahem--why it was, I grant, but then--not that I am at all a proud +man, Mr. Purcel--far from it, I trust--but you see--hem--the truth +is, that to a man as I am, a magistrate--trusted and--consulted by +government, and having, besides, to meet certain low prejudices against +me in the country, here, I don't think--I'm spaking of the magistrate +now, Purcel--not of the man--observe that, but the truth is--d--m the +word, for I don't think there's in the whole catalogue of names, so +vulgar a one as Fitzy--and be d--d to it.” + +The proctor laughed till the tears came from his eyes, at the dignified +distress with which the great little man resented this degrading +grievance. + +“Ha! ha! ha! and so,” said he, “I'm not to call you Fitzy; well, well, +so be it--but I have been so long in the habit of using it in our +conversation, that I shall, find it a difficult matter to change the +practice. But upon my conscience, Fitzy--I beg pardon, Mr. O'Driscol, +I must say--I think it great weakness in your worship, to let such a +trifle as that annoy you.” + +“It may be a weakness,” said the other, “but before we go further, I +make it a personal request, that you won't use Fitzy to me, and above +all things, in the presence of strangers. I entrate and implore that you +won't.” + +“Very well, then--a bargain be it--but I must insist that you never call +me Mat, or anything but Mr. Purcel, again.” + +“Why, but you know you are not a magistrate, Mat.” + +“Never mind, Fitzy--hem--never mind, your worship, call me whatever you +like--unless a rogue--ha! ha! ha! well, but to business--what is this +you want with me?” + +“A business that, if well managed, may be a beneficial one to you and me +both.” + +“Out with it, though--you know I'm in a hurry.” + +“Why now,” proceeded the little man, relapsing unconsciously into a +sense of his violated dignity,--“curse me, if I'd for fifty--no, not +for a hundred, that the Castle should come to know that I was addressed +as Fitzy.” + +The proctor's mirth was again renewed, but after a moment or two, the +serious part of the conversation was resumed by the magistrate. + +“Your son John, the other morning,” he proceeded, in a low +and confidential tone, “hinted to me that you had partly +discovered--hem--ahem--a very important circumstance--in short, that you +had partly, if not altogether, discovered a--a conspiracy.” + +The proctor stared at him with unaffected surprise, which, by the way, +did not escape the magistrate's notice. “A conspiracy!” he added, “and +did John tell you this?” + +“Why, not exactly,” replied O'Driscol, fearing that the young man, as +we have already hinted, had been indiscreet, and consequently wished +to keep him as much out of blame as possible; “not exactly, my dear +Mat--hem--my dear Mr. Purcel, but you know that I am rather sharp--a +penetratin' fellow in my way, or I would not be of the commission +to-day--he seemed merely to drop the expression accidentally only.” + +“I pledge my honor to you,” replied the proctor, who at once saw through +the hoax that his son had played off upon him, “that the young rascal +had no authority from me for mentioning a single syllable about it.” + +“Well, but, I trust, my dear Ma--Mr; Purcel, that you are not angry with +him, especially for having mentioned it to me at any rate.” + +“Why, my dear friend,” said the other, “if the time were come, you are +the first man to whom I would disclose the circumstance, but the fact +simply is, that it is not ripe yet.” + +“Even so; you will have no objection, I trust, to let me know something +of the nature of it--even now.” + +“It is impossible!” replied the proctor, “quite out of my power; if I +breathe a syllable about it, the whole matter must be blown before the +proper time, and then--” + +“Well, and what then?--proceed.” + +“Why, neither you nor I would be one moment safe; and in that case, it +is much more prudent that you should not know it--God forbid that I, +above all men, should be the person to involve you in risk and danger. +Your own ardor and excessive loyalty expose you--to dangers enough, and +too many.” + +“You promise, however, when the proper time comes, to make me acquainted +with it?” + +“Certainly, when the proper time comes; and if the thing ripen at all, +you shall hear of it.” + +“But listen,” asked O'Driscol, licking his lips as a man would when +thinking of a good dinner; “is the matter you allude to a real, actual, +bona-fide conspiracy?” + +“An actual live conspiracy,” replied the proctor; “and as soon as it has +reached maturity, and is full grown, you shall have all the honors of +the discovery.” + +“That will do, Mat--hem, that will do my dear friend. I shall have the +Castle dancing with delight--and whisper--but this is honorable between +ourselves--any advantages that may result from this affair, you shall +partake of. The Castle and I understand one another, and depend upon it, +your name shall be mentioned with all the honor and importance due to +it.” + +“This, then, was what you wanted with me?” + +“It was, and upon my honor and conscience, you and yours, and I +and mine, will have cause to rejoice in it. Government, my dear +Mat--ahem--is a generous benefactor, and aided by it we shall work +wonders. We shall, I trust, all be provided for--your sons and my own +fool--M'Carthy, too, we shall not forget. + +“All that will be very pleasant, I acknowledge,” replied the proctor, +dryly, “and in the meantime good-by, and may God spare both you and me +long life and happiness--until then, and as long after it as we may wish +for.” + +Our friend M'Carthy, who was little aware of the liberal provision which +the benevolence of his friend had in contemplation for him, was in the +meantime likely to be provided for in a very different manner, and upon +principles very much at variance with those of that political gentleman +yclept the Castle, an impersonation which it would be exceedingly +difficult to define. + + + + +CHAPTER IX.--Sport in the Mountains. + + +In the course of that day Letty Lenehan, who had been musing over +Mogue's soliloquy in the barn, felt that kind of impression which every +one has felt more or less under similar circumstances. The fellow's +words left a suspicion upon her mind that there was evil designed +against young M'Carthy by this smooth-going and pious hypocrite. How to +act she felt somewhat at a loss, but as the day advanced, the singular +impression we have mentioned deepened, until she could conceal +its existence no longer. After dinner, however, she seized upon an +opportunity of consulting her friend and lover, Jerry Joyce, who, by +the way, had also been somewhat surprised at an expression which +escaped Mogue in the morning. On comparing notes, both came to the same +conclusion, viz.,--that there existed in the bosom of Mogue some latent +hard feeling against M'Carthy. + +“I am sure there does,” said Jerry, “and I think I know why too--Mogue +isn't the only person that has a deadly hatred against Mr. M'Carthy; and +indeed, Letty, I have raisons to fear that the poor young gintleman, for +so he is by family and blood at all events--is in great danger. However, +if it will make your mind aisy, I'll see what can be done to get him +safe over it this night.” + +“This night, Jerry? why what do you mane? what about this night more +than any other night?” + +“Hut! you foolish girl,” replied Jerry, “sure you ought to know that +it's only a way of spakin' we have, when we say this night or this day.” + +“Ay,” replied Letty, with great shrewdness and in a spirit of keen +observation, “if you had spoken that way, you'd have said this day, and +not this night, bekaise it's not night yet.” + +Jerry smiled, and resolving to put an end to the conversation, +exclaimed, “Troth and I'll have a kiss from your lips, this day, and, if +you vex me much more, another this night too;” and as he spoke, with a +face of good-humor and affection, he contrived to suit the action to the +word, after which Letty sprang beyond his reach, but pausing a moment +ere she disappeared. “Jerry, listen,” she proceeded, “don't let Mr. +M'Carthy come to harm either by night or day, if you can--still an' all +remember that your own life is a dearer one--to--to--yourself, at any +rate, than anybody else's is.” + +Jerry nodded, and was about once more to lessen the distance between +himself and her, when she immediately took to flight and disappeared, +which was precisely what he wanted. + +“God protect the young man!” he exclaimed, after she had gone, “for if +that sleeveen villain is bent on doin' him harm, or, as I ought to say, +of bringin' him among them, and especially to him that hates him like +hell, this is the very night for it, and he has him on the spot too; +well, we'll see whether they'll be back in time or not, for as Mr. +M'Carthy is to dine here, Mogue at any rate must and ought to be home a +little before dusk. I'll make preparation, however, and what can be done +for him, I will do.” + +In the meantime we shall follow our two sportsmen into the mountains for +a time, in order to render justice to poor innocent Mogue, who little +dreamt that a human being had suspected him. + +M'Carthy, on entering the mountain, at first expressed a doubt to his +companion that the circuit or sweep road by Shaun Bernha's stables was +rather extensive, and would occupy too much time, besides bringing them +farther out of their way than it was his (M'Carthy's) intention to go. + +“You know, Mogue,” he observed, “I am to dine with Mr. Purcel to-day, +and, if we go so far, I shall never be home in time for dinner.” + +[Illustration: PAGE 421-- Just trust yourself to me] + +“Never mind, sir,” replied his companion, “you don't know all the short +cuts of Sloebeens as well as I do. My life for yours, I'll take care +that you won't want your dinner or your supper aither, sir, I'll go +bail. Just trust yourself to me, and if I don't bring you to where the +grouse, snipes, and hares is in thousands, never put faith in me again.” + +M'Carthy, who had every confidence in Mogue, and, also, more than +usual respect for him, in consequence of his apparent love of truth +and religion, accompanied him without the slightest hesitation; feeling +satisfied that his intimate acquaintance with the whole wild locality +around them, was a proof that he would be able to keep his word. + +The scenery of those mountains, though wild, as we have said, is, +nevertheless, remarkable for that poetic spirit of beauty which our +learned and accomplished countryman, Dr. Petrie, infused, with such +delightful effect, into his landscapes. Even the long stretches of level +moor, which lie between the hill ranges, present in summer that air of +warm repose which the mind recognizes as constituting a strong element +of beauty; but it is at evening, when the crimson sun pours a flood of +golden light upon their sides and tops, turning the rich flowery heath +with which they are covered into hues of deep purple, that the eye +delights to rest upon them. Nor is the wild charm of solitude to be +forgotten in alluding to the character of these soft and gracefully +undulating mountains. Indeed we scarcely knew anything more replete with +those dream-like impressions of picturesque romance which, in a spirit +so perfectly solitary, sleep, still and solemn, far from the on-goings +of busy life, in the distant recesses of these barren solitudes. Many a +time when young have we made our summer journey across the brown hills, +which lay between us and the mountains we are describing, for the +express purpose of dreaming away whole hours in their contemplation, and +steeping our early imagination in the wild and novel beauty which our +heart told us the spirit of solitude had impressed upon them. + +How far our sportsmen proceeded, or in, what precise direction, we +are not in a capacity to inform our readers. That they proceeded much +further, however, than M'Carthy had wished or contemplated, will soon +become sufficiently evident. What kind of sport they had, or whether +successful or otherwise, it is not our present purpose to say. Be the +game abundant or scarce, we leave them to pursue it, and request the +reader to accompany us in a direction somewhat removed, but not very far +different from theirs. + +It may be necessary, however, to state here previously, that these +mountains are remarkably--indeed proverbially--subject to deep, +impervious mists, which wrap them in a darkness far more impenetrable +to the eye than the darkest nights, and immeasurably more confounding +to the reason, by at once depriving the individual whom they chance to +overtake, of all sense of his relative position. At night the moon and +stars may be seen, or even a fire or other light at a distance; but +here, whilst enveloped in one of those dark and dismal fogs, no earthly +object is seen within two yards of you, and every step made is replete +with doubt or danger, and frequently with death itself, in the shape of +deep shoreless lakes and abrupt precipices. The night had now set in for +about two hours, and one of the deep fogs which we have just described +began to break into broad gray fragments, which were driven by the wind +into the deeper hollows, dissipated almost at once into the thin +and invisible air. Sometimes a rush of wind would sweep along like a +gigantic arrow, running through the mist, and leaving a rapid track +behind it like a pathway. Sometimes again a whirl-blast would sweep +round a hill, or rush up from a narrow gorge, carrying round, in wild +and fantastic gyrations, large masses of the apparently solid mist, +giving thus to the scene such an appearance as would lead the spectator +to suppose that some invisible being or beings, of stupendous power, +were engaged in these fearful solitudes. + +The night, we have said, had set in, and the mist was clearing, or had +altogether cleared away. Up far in these mountains lived a herd, or +caretaker and gamekeeper, all in one, named Frank Finnerty. He was a man +of bad character--gloomy, sullen, and possessed of very little natural +feeling. The situation in which he resided was so remote and solitary, +so far from the comforts and conveniences that are derived from human +intercourse, that scarcely any other man in the parish could be induced +to undertake the duties attached to it, or consent to live in it at all. +Finnerty, however, was a dark, unsocial man, who knew that he was not +liked in the country, and who, on his part, paid back to society its +hatred of him with interest. He had been engaged in many outrages +against the law, and had been once sentenced to transportation for +manslaughter--a sentence which would have been carried into effect were +it not for a point made m his case by the lawyer who defended him--His +wife was a kind-hearted, benevolent woman naturally, but she had been +for years so completely subdued and disjointed, that she was, at the +period we write of, a poor, passive, imbecile creature, indifferent +to everything, and with no more will of her own than was necessary to +fulfil the duties of mere mechanical existence. + +It was now near ten o'clock; Finnerty and she had been sitting at the +fire in silence for some time, when at length she spoke. + +“Well, I hope there was no one out on the mountains in that mist.” + +“Why,” said he, “what is it to you or me whether there was or not?” + +“That's thrue,” she replied, “but one wouldn't like any harm to come to +a fellow-creature.” + +“Dear me,” he exclaimed, in harsh tones of hatred and irony, “how fond +you are of your fellow-cratures to-night! little your fellow-cratures +care about you.” + +“Well, indeed, I suppose that's thrue enough, Frank; what 'ud make them +care about me or the likes o' me, and for all that whether they may +think o' me now, I remimber the time when they did care about me, and +when I was loved and respected by all that knew me.” + +There was a touching humility, and a feeble but heart-broken effort at +self-respect in the poor woman's words and manner that were pitiful and +pathetic to the last degree, and which even Finnerty himself was obliged +to acknowledge. + +“But where's the use of thinking about these things now,” he replied; +“it isn't what we were then, Vread, but what we are now, that we ought +to think of.” + +“But, sure, Frank,” said the simple-minded creature, “one cannot prevint +the memory from, goin' back to the early times, when we wor happy, and +when the world was no trouble to us.” + +There was a pause, and after a little she added, “I dunna is the night +clearin'?” + +Finnerty rose, and proceeding to the door, looked out a moment, then +went to the corner of the house to get a better view of the sky, after +which he returned. + +“The mist is gone,” he observed, “from the mountains, and I suppose the +boys will soon begin to come.” + +“Throth, Frank,” she replied, “I hate these nightly meetin's that you +hould here--all this plottin' and plannin' isn't nor can't be good.” + +“You hate them! an' who the ould diaoul cares whether you do or not? I +allow them this house to meet in, bekaise it's large and far from the +polis. A house down in the country, where they might pop in on them, +wouldn't be so safe; here, however, no one would suspect them of +meetin', and from the way the house is situated, no one could come upon +us widout bein' known or seen. You hate! that indeed!” + +“An' what do they meet for, Frank? if it's a fair question!” + +“It's not a fair question, an' you have no business to ax; still if you +want to know, and if it can make you anything the wiser, you shall hear. +It's to break a Millstone they meet.” + +“To brake a millstone, _inngh!_ Oh, sorra a word of that I believe. Sure +there's no millstone here?--if you want to break millstones you must go +farther up--to Carnmore, where they make them. Sorra millstone's here, I +know.” + +“You know--oh, how much you know! I tell you, there's a great Millstone +that covers and grinds the whole kingdom, or at least the greatest parts +of it--that's the Millstone we want to brake, and that we will brake.” + +“When did you hear from Mark Ratigan, or see him?” + +“Mark Ratigan is snug and comfortable as a laborin' boy wid Magistrate +Driscol that's in--hem--but listen to me, now if you should meet Mark +anywhere down the country, you're neither to call him Mark nor Ratigan, +otherwise you may be the manes of hangin' the poor boy.” + +“Throth, an' by all accounts, he'll come to the gallows yet.” + +“Well, and many a betther man did. I expect him and Hourigan both here +tonight.” + +“An' what name does he go by now?” she asked. + +“By the name of Phil Hart; and remember when there's any stranger +present, you're never to call him anything else--but above all things, +and upon the peril of your life, never call him Mark Ratigan.” + +“And do you think,” replied his wife, “that I won't take care not to +do it? But, Frank, tell me what was Mogue Moylan doin' here the night +before last?” + +“Only to let me know that he and a Misthor M'Carthy--a great friend +of his and of two good creatures--Magistrate Driscol and Procthor +Purcel--wor to come out shootin' on the mountains to-day and to ax if I +would prevent them.” + +“An' did you give them lave?” she inquired. + +A very peculiar expression passed over the dark grim features of her +husband. “Did I give them lave?” he replied; “well, indeed, you may take +your davy, I did. Why would I refuse a dacent gintleman, and a friend of +Mogue Moylan's lave to shoot? Poor dacent Mogue, too, that loves thruth +and religion so well--ha! ha! ha!--whisht!--here's some one.” + +The words were scarcely uttered, when our friends, M'Carthy and Mogue, +made their appearance in the caretaker's house, both evidently in a +fatigued state, especially M'Carthy, who had not been so well accustomed +to travel over mountain scenery as his companion. + +“Well, blessed be God that we have got the roof of a house over us at +last!” exclaimed Mogue. “Frank Finnerty, how are you? an' Vread, achora, +not forgettin' you--my hand to you both, but we're lost--especially this +gentleman, Mr. M'Carthy--a great friend of Mr. O'Driscol's and Procthor +Parcel's--but a betther man than either o' them, I hope.” + +“I am fairly knocked up, I admit,” said M'Carthy--“in fact, I am more +jaded than I ever was in my life.” + +“Take a chair, sir,” said Finnerty; “you are welcome at all events, +and I am glad to see you, or any friend of Mogue's; take this chair, +sir--and--here, Mogue, do you take a stool; you must be both in a sad +state, sure enough.” + +“Thank you, Frank,” replied Mogue, “oh, then, bad cess to it for a dirty +mist--God pardon me for cursin' the poor mist though, for sure it wasn't +it's fault, the crathur of a mist we oughn't to curse anything that +God has made, but indeed I'm a great sinner that way, God forgive me; +howandever as I was sayin', only for it afther all, Mr. Francis, it's +atin' your comfortable dinner, or rayther drinkin' your fine wine you'd +be now at Mr. Purcel's illigant table, instead of bein' here as you are, +however, sure it's good to have a house over our heads any way.” + +Finnerty and his wife heaped more turf on the fire, and the poor +woman, with that kind spirit of hospitality and sympathy for which her +countrywomen are so remarkable, told them that they must necessarily +be hungry, and said she would lose no time in providing them with +refreshment. + +“Many thanks,” replied M'Carthy, “it is not refreshment, but rest we +require; we have had more refreshments of every kind with us than he +could use, and it is well we were so provident, otherwise we never would +or could have reached even this house alive. Such a day I have never +spent--we have done nothing but wade through this d--d mist for the last +six or eight hours, without the slightest knowledge of whereabout we +were.” + +“Well, well, Mr. Francis, sure it's one comfort that we're safe at all +events,” said Mogue; “only I'm frettin' myself about the onaisiness +they'll all feel at home, I mane in Mr. Purcel's, about you. Do you know +now, that a thought strikes me, sir; I'm fresher than you are a good. +deal. Now what if I'd run home and make their minds aisy in the first +place, and get Jerry Joyce to bring the car up for you as far as the +mountain road? You can rest yourself here in the manetime, and Frank +Finnerty will see you safe that far. I'll carry the gun and things with +me too--so that you'll have a lighter tramp down the hills.” + +This arrangement was precisely what M'Carthy could have wished. + +“Thank you, Mogue, for thinking of this--you are a considerate kind +fellow, and I cordially admit that I owe my life to you this day. +Had you not been with me I must have lost my way and perished in the +mountains.” + +Mogue and Finnerty exchanged glances, which, however, did not escape +the observation of the wife, who thoroughly understood those changes of +expression, which reflected her husband's darker and sterner purposes. + +“Why, then, Misther Frank, that I may be happy but I am glad I was with +you, so I am, for indeed only for me I don't think, sure enough, that +ever you'd see this house to-night. There's some spirits left here +still, and as I'm for another stretch, I don't think a glass of it will +do me, or for that matther, Frank Finnerty here, any harm. You can see +me down the hills a piece, Frank; and you, Mr. Francis, might throw +yourself on the bed a while, and get an hour's sleep or so.” + +This too was agreed to--Mogue and Finnerty took each a glass of whiskey, +as did Mrs. Finnerty, by permission of her husband, and in a few minutes +she and M'Carthy were left by themselves. + +After the two worthies had been gone a few minutes, she proceeded to the +door, and as the night had now become tolerably light, she looked out, +but with a great deal of caution. At first she saw no person, but in +walking in the shadow of the house, along! the sidewall to the left, she +was able to observe five or six persons coming towards her husband +and Moylan in a body; she saw that they stopped and were in close +conversation, pointing frequently towards the house as they spoke. She +returned to M'Carthy with the same caution, and, approaching him, was +about to speak, when dread of her husband supervened for the moment, and +she paused like a person in doubt. The peculiar glare and the satanic +smile which her husband gave to Mogue, who, by the way, seemed perfectly +to understand it, oppressed her with an indistinct sense of approaching +evil which she could neither shake off, nor separate from the strange +gentleman to whom their glances evidently referred. She remembered also +to have heard her husband say upon one occasion when he was drunk, +that Mogue Moylan was the deepest villain in the barony--ay, or in the +kingdom; and that only for his cowardice he would be a man after his own +heart. 'Twas true, she knew that he had contradicted all this afterwards +when he got sober, and said it was the liquor that caused him to speak +as he did, that Mogue was a good kind-hearted crature, who loved truth, +and was one of the most religious boys among them. + +This, however, did not satisfy her; the impression of some meditated +evil against their temporary guest was too strong to be disregarded, and +on recollecting that Mogue had been up with her husband only the +evening but one before, as if to prepare him for something unusual, the +conviction arose to an alarming height. + +We have said that this woman was a poor passive creature, whose life was +a mere round of almost mechanical action. This, to be sure, so far as +regarded her own domestic duties, and in general every matter in which +her husband's opinions and her own could clash, was perfectly true. She +was naturally devoid, however, of neither heart nor intellect, when +any of her fellow-creatures happened to come within the range of her +husband's enmity or vengeance, as well as upon other occasions too, and +it was well known that she had given strong proofs of this. Her life in +general appeared to be one long lull, but, notwithstanding its quietude, +there was, under circumstances of crime or danger, the brooding storm +ready to start up into action. + +“Sir,” said she, on returning into the house, “I'm a plain and ignorant +woman, so that you needn't feel surprised or alarmed at anything I am +goin' to say. I hope you will pardon me, sir, when I ax if you seen my +husband before, or if you know him either more or less?” + +M'Carthy did feel surprised, and replied in the negative to both points +of her question--“I do not know your husband,” he said, “nor have I to +my knowledge ever seen him until to-night; may I beg to inquire why you +ask?” + +“It's not worth your while,” she replied, “it was a mere thought that +came into my head: but you and Mogue Moylan never had a dispute, sir?” + +“Why, what can put such a notion into your head, my good woman? +Certainly not. Mogue and I have been always on the best of terms.” + +She paused again for some minutes, after which, she said, in a voice not +audible. + +“There's something in the wind for all that. + +“Sir.” she proceeded, “you'll think me odd, but will you let me ax if +you wor ever threatened or put on your guard, of if you know of any +enemy you have that would wish to injure you?” + +M'Carthy now started, and, looking at her with a gaze of equal curiosity +and astonishment, replied, “Your language, my good woman, is beyond +doubt very strange--why do you ask me these questions?” + +“Answer me first, if you plaise,” she replied. + +“I have certainly been put on my guard,” he returned, “and informed +that I ought to be cautious, for that I had an enemy and that danger was +before me.” + +“When, and in what way did this happen?” + +“I shall make no further communication on the subject,” he replied, +“until you speak more plainly.” + +“Then,” she proceeded, “I'm afeard there's danger over you this night, +if God hasn't said it.” + +“Not, I trust, while I am under the protection of your husband and Mogue +Moylan.” + +She shook her head. “If you haven't something better to depend upon, +I wouldn't think myself overly safe; but you didn't answer the last +question I axed you. How wor you warned, and who warned you?” + +He then gave her a brief account of the rencounter he had with the +Whiteboys, and alluded to the unknown but friendly individual who had +put him on his guard. + +“I knew it,” she exclaimed, “I knew it; I couldn't mistake the look that +passed between them. Now, in God's name,” she said, “if you're able to +drag a limb afther you at all, start out o' this and save yourself, and, +let what will happen, I entreat, for the love of God, that you won't +mention my name.” + +This he faithfully promised; “But,” replied he to her warning, “I really +am not able to escape, and I cannot think that your husband would injure +a man who never offended him.” + +“But that's not the way they do sich things; it's not the man you +offended that will injure you, but some blackguard stranger that he gets +to do it for him, and that you'll know nothing about. In God's name, I +say, be off out o' this. Even as a stranger you can hardly be safe, and +if you wish to know why, whisper,” and she spoke so low as only barely +to be heard, “there's a meeting of Whiteboys to be here to-night; +anyhow, you're the friend of O'Driscol and Procthor Purcel, and that +same would be enough to make them give you a knock. Don't face home,” + said she, “or you'll be likely to meet them, but take the mountains wanst +more on your head. Get out upon the road at Altanaveenan and you may be +safe. God of Glory!” she exclaimed, “here they are--but watch my face +and be guided by me--here, throw yourself into that bed below and +pretend to sleep--I'll do what woman can, but I'm afeared we lost our +chance.” + +M'Carthy distinctly heard them laughing as they approached the door, +and, in accordance with the advice he had got, he went to the lower +part of the house and lay down on the bed, where he closed his eyes and +breathed like one asleep. He now began to investigate Mogue's conduct, +in persisting to bring him by so circuitous a sweep such a distance out +of his way, and decidedly contrary to his wishes. He hesitated, however, +to inculpate Mogue, who certainly could not have anticipated or brought +on the fog, which had occasioned them to wander for such a length of +time among the mountains. Then, on the other hand, he deprived him of +his gun and ammunition, but might not that also have been from motives +of kindness? + +In the meantime, eight or ten men came into the house each and all with +their faces blackened, and some of them as before wearing shirts outside +their dress; and this he could see from the position of the bed where he +lay. The chat among themselves and with Mrs. Finnerty was not, as is the +case in romances, either mysterious or awful. On the contrary, it was +light and pleasant, and by no means calculated to heighten McCarthy's +fears; who, to say truth, however, although resolute and full of +courage, would as lief been spending the evening with his friend the +proctor. + +“Well, Vread,” said one of them, “any news in the mountains?” + +“News in the mountains!” exclaimed Vread, “well, indeed, that's good.” + +“Any deaths or marriages among the grouse, eh?” + +Vread, as we have said, had got a glass of spirits, a circumstance +which, to a low heart but a kind one like hers, may probably have +accounted for a portion of her energy, as well as of her sympathy with +the apprehended danger to M'Carthy. + +“Troth,” she replied, with more vivacity than might have been expected +from her, “when you spake to a dacent woman it ought to be with a clane +face at any rate.” + +“Why, Vread, how can you say it's dirty,” replied the fellow, “when you +know I washed it before I came out?” + +“It must be in the divil's basin, then,” she replied, “for if one can +judge by their eyes, you're more like one of his childre than your +honest father's, whoever he was or is. Troth, I'm afeard it's a dirty +business you're; all about to-night, if a body is to take you by your +looks.” + +“Why, then,” observed another, “who 'ud think that poor die-away Vread +had so much spunk in her? Vread,” he proceeded, “you must a been a great +beauty wanst upon a time; a very purty face you had, they say.” + +“Whatever it was,” she replied, “I thank God I was never ashamed to show +it like too many of my neighbors.” + +“Don't be too sure that we're your neighbors, Vread.” + +“Troth, I hope not,” she returned; “I don't think my neighbors 'ud be +consarned in sich disgraceful work, as I'm afraid brings yez out. Faugh +upon you all! its unmanly.” + +Her husband, accompanied by six or eight more, now made his appearance; +a circumstance which at once put an end to the part that his wife was +disposed to bear in their conversation. + +Other chat of various character then took place, in which, however, +M'Carthy, who now watched them closely, could observe that they did not +all join. + +“Whisht,” said one of them, “is there anybody asleep in the house? I +think I hear some one snorin!” + +“There is,” said Finnerty, “a gentleman that was out shootin' to-day wid +a servant-man of Mr. Parcel's the procthor--named Mogue Moylan.” + +“And a very great scoundrel is Mogue Moylan,” said one of them, with a +wink at the rest. + +“Well, no,” said Finnerty, “I think not--poor Mogue's a daecnt, quiet +crature, and has a great regard for truth and religion.” + +M'Carthy, from his position the bed, had, by means of a fortunate rift +in the blankets, a complete view of the whole party, and he could mark +with accuracy, in consequence of their black faces, every grin now made +distinctly visible by their white teeth. + +“Who is the gentleman that snores so beautifully?” asked another of +them. + +“He is a gentleman named O'Connor,” replied poor Vread, anxious, if +possible, even at the risk of much subsequent abuse and ill-treatment, +to conceal his name. + +“Ay,” said Finnerty, corroborating her; much, indeed, to her +astonishment, “he is a Mr. O'Connor, I believe, a very handsome-lookin', +fine young fellow.” + +“What the blazes,” said another of them, “keeps him? Surely he ought to +be here before now. Had Mr. O'Connor good sport?” + +“How could he,” replied Finnerty, “wid the fog that was on the +mountains?” + +At this moment an individual made his appearance, whom it was impossible +to look upon without being most forcibly struck by his figure. He was +a broad-shouldered, muscular, powerful man, with immensely large limbs; +his hair was black, and a huge pair of whiskers of the same color +stretched across his cheeks, met at his chin, and ran down in an +unbroken line round a huge and remarkably well-set neck. The moment he +entered, and before he had time to speak, two or three of them instantly +placed their fingers significantly upon their lips, as if to indicate +silence, apprehensive, as M'Carthy at the time thought, lest his voice +might be recognised. Another of them then whispered something to him, +and whatever the secret was, it caused him to glance for a moment, and +involuntarily, towards the bed. All that he spoke afterwards was uttered +in whispers. + + + + +CHAPTER X.--The Sport Continued. + +Finnerty's house, which had been built for more purposes than were +necessary for the accommodation of a caretaker or gamekeeper, was simply +a plain apartment, tolerably large, with room enough in it for a +couple of beds; to this was added a shooting-lodge for the owner of the +mountains, which consisted of three or four bed-rooms opening from a +well-sized dining-room, and a kitchen distinct from the apartment which +constituted the dwelling of the gamekeeper, being that which Finnerty, +as such, then occupied. It was in the dining-room of the shooting-lodge +that the Whiteboy meetings were uniformly held, although of late it had +been usual for those who attended them to sit in Finnerty's house until +the hour had arrived for commencing business, when they adjourned to the +other. We should say that the gamekeeper's house, though under the same +roof, as it is termed, with the shooting-lodge, was distinct from it +in other respects; that is to say, there was no internal communication +between them. + +“Who was that fellow that we met with you a while ago?” asked one of +them a second time, as if having forgotten his name. + +“Poor Mogue Moylan,” replied Finnerty, “and sadly bate down he was wid +this day's Work; I advised him to go to bed as soon as he could, and +refresh himself by a good sleep.” + +“Advise!” said a voice, that almost made M'Carthy start, “it's aisier +to give good advice than it is to take it; Mogue's not the only fool in +this world that won't take good advice when it's given.” + +There could be no mistaking his voice. M'Carthy at once recognized +that of the unknown friend who had warned him of danger on the night he +encountered the Whiteboys, as already described. + +“Come,” proceeded he, “it is time we should commence business and settle +the affairs of the nation at wanst; throth,” he added, with a laugh, “if +I was the same nation, and had a pair of good legs undher me--” + +“Of what?” said the person with the black whiskers, who was evidently +their leader, “of what?” + +“Of ginerals like Bonnypart and Sarsfield, I'd soon have the country +clear and the millstone pavin' the roads under our feet, as it will be +before long, plaise God. Come, then, to business.” + +They accordingly proceeded to the adjoining house, with the exception of +Finnerty himself, who, whether for the sake of safety, or rather for the +purpose of watching M'Carthy, remained at his own fireside. His wife, on +seeing this, pretended to be engaged with some domestic matter about +the dresser, on which she placed a freshly lit rushlight, and availing +herself of her position behind the back of her husband, who sat with his +face towards the bed, she slightly raised her hands and eyes, as if to +intimate that escape, she feared, was impossible. + +It is incredible, the reaction which a new sensation, especially of joy +or terror, or, indeed, of any feeling that is strong, superinduces +upon the spirit, under circumstances of peculiar danger or interest. +M'Carthy's fatigue, for instance, had now as completely departed from +him as if he had not been abroad that day, and in consequence of +the significant hint which he had received through the voice of his +mysterious friend, he felt that if an opportunity were only offered him +he would use the two legs to which his friend had alluded, when checked +by the stern voice of their leader, with as much agility as ever they +possessed during his life. It was this hint which made him feel certain, +for the first time, that he was in imminent danger. + +Half an hour had now elasped, and it was evident, from the listening +attitudes and frequent stortings of Finnerty, that the debate in the +lodge was high and serious. At length, one of the society hurriedly made +his appearance, exclaiming; in a kind of condensed and agitated whisper, +“Come in and help us--they won't stand the thing, there's only three for +us.” Finnerty took the candle; and, after signing to the person to +go out, brought it close to M'Carthy's eyes, who opened his mouth and +assumed with singular success all the deep insensible relaxation which +characterizes heavy sleep. Finnerty even shook him, and said, “Hadn't +you better get up, sir, and come to meet the car?” He addressed a log, +however, and after another more careless and evidently satisfied glance, +he laid down the candle, and then said to his wife, in a whisper, which, +however, M'Carthy could hear; “The moment he wakens let us know.” + +Vread, who would not seem to attach any importance to the circumstance, +simply nodded, by way of acquiescence, and her husband, went to join +those in the lodge. + +In every country whose political, commercial, or social relations, are +not properly settled, or in which there exists a struggle between +the principles at variance with civil order and those of enlightened +progress, there will always be found a considerable portion of +the population ripe and ready for violence and crime. This is an +undisputable fact, and one the more dangerous too, inasmuch as crime is +usually stripped by these misguided wretches of its inherent guilt, and +looked upon as a necessary instrument, or, in other words, as a means +to work out an end. It is true, the relative portion of the reckless +and guilty is, in this country at least, considering its population, +exceedingly small, for we all know how miserable the number of those +who are at any time necessary to involve the character of a district at +large, or inculpate the moral reputation of a whole country. At the same +time, we must unquestionably admit, that, if we contrast the population +of the country at large, and the frequency of crime in it, joined to +its character of cool and deliberate atrocity, with that of the sister +countries, we must candidly acknowledge, that the conduct of the people, +even taking the proportions I have mentioned into consideration, is not +only without parallel in modern times, but that religion is not merely a +name, but, in every sense, incapable, whether by its internal spirit +or maladministration, of discharging to society those great functional +duties which mankind have a right to expect from it. But now to return. + +Finnerty had joined the meeting; his wife, approaching M'Carthy, said, +in a low whisper-- + +“They have some argument about you, whatever it is. However, with God's +assistance, I'll venthur to do a thing that may be dangerous enough to +myself, at any rate; but what do I care about that, if I can save an +unoffendin' fellow-creature from harm?--Stay where you are then, till I +come in again.” + +She went out as she spoke, and after an? interval of about six or eight +minutes again made her appearance. + +“I can't hear them plain enough,” she said, on her return, “but whatever +it is, I can undherstan' that the most of them all is against it. In +God's name, at any rate, stay where you are--they're risin' to go +home, and as the night's light they'd be sure to pounce upon you if +you attempted to escape. Whatever I can do to save you from harm here I +will.” + +The poor woman's escape from detection, while performing the friendly +office of listening, was indeed very narrow. Short and hurried as her +last advice to M'Carthy was, the words in which she conveyed it had +scarcely been uttered, when her husband, accompanied by three persons, +their faces still blackened, made his appearance. They took seats in +silence around the fire, and one of them, handing over a bottle of +whiskey to Finnerty, merely nodded, as much as to say, pass that about. +Finnerty accordingly did so, and each of them drank a glass or two, +after which they were silent as before. This silence, to M'Carthy, began +to wear a solemn and a fearful aspect, especially as he knew enough of +the habits of the people to be aware, that in drinking whiskey is often +resorted to in order to deaden their moral, perceptions, or, in other +words, as a stimulant to crime. + +At length, after about a quarter of an hour had elapsed, and three of +them--that is to say, two of the strangers and Finnerty--had each drank +three glasses of spirits, the fourth, who had taken only one glass, +beckoned to the other two to follow him. + +“I think,” said he, “they are all gone, and the coast is clear.” + +In this man's voice, M'Carthy, to his infinite delight, once more +recognized that of his unknown well-wisher. Be this as it may, he and +the other two left the house, and, as the reader is no doubt interested +in their movements, we shall permit him to follow them to the +dining-room of the shooting-lodge, where the meeting had just been held. + +“Very well, then,” he proceeded, “it is so best, as none of us can +become a traitor against the rest. Shew me your pistols; for, as I'm an +ould soger, I'll regulate them for you better than you'll be able to do +yourselves.” + +He accordingly took their pistols, examined them closely, fixed the +powder in the pans, adding' a fresh supply of priming from a little +goat's horn which he carried in his-pocket. He then took out his own, +which he simply looked at, and again returned to his pocket. + +“Now,” said he, “our best plan is to take him about the small o' the +back, when he's before us, one only at a time; you,” said he, addressing +the tallest, “will fire first; you,”--to the other--“next if he misses +him; and, as I'm the boy that doesn't miss my mark, I'll take him down, +never fear, if he should escape either of you. Come now, let us go in +and get him to his legs, that we may start.” + +On making their appearance again, Finnerty approached M'Carthy, and +exclaimed as before, but on this occasion with a loud and earnest voice, +“Come, sir, get up if you plaise; it's time for you to meet the car.” To +this M'Carthy made no reply. + +“Come, sir,” repeated Finnerty, “bounce; hillo, I say, Mr. M'Carthy; up +wid you, sir, the car will be waitin' for you;” and he gave him a slap +on the shoulder as he spoke. + +“Hallo!” exclaimed the pretended sleeper, “have a care--easy,' +easy--what's that? who are you?--eh--aw--oh, dear me, where am I?” + +“In a friend's house, sir; get up, you know Mr. Purcel's car is waitin' +for you at the mountain road below.” + +M'Carthy started to his feet, and on looking about him, exclaimed, “How +is this, Finnerty? why are the faces of these men blackened?” + +“Never you mind that, sir,” replied Finnerty, “they are two or three +poor fellows that's on their keepin' in regard to havin' paid their +tithes against the will o' the people; an' they don't wish to be known, +that's all.” + +“Well,” replied M'Carthy, “that's their own affair, and neither yours +nor mine, Finnerty. Come, then, are you ready? for I am.” + +“These boys, Mr. M'Carthy, has promised to take the best care of you +while in their company, an' as they're goin' to the mountain road, +where your're to meet the car, they'll bring you safe, sir.” + +“Most certainly not, Finnerty,” replied the other; “I shall be escorted +by no person or persons ashamed to show their faces. If you refuse to +come, you break your word with me; but, in any event, I shall not +travel with these men. I am too well aware of the disturbed state of the +country, and that, being a friend of Mr. Purcel, I may not be popular. I +consider myself, however, under your protection and under the protection +of your roof, and for this reason I shall hold you accountable for my +safety; and, at all events, unless you insist on expelling me, I shall +remain where I am until morning.” + +“Why, if you insist upon it, I'll go,” replied Finnerty, and four +friends about you will be betther and safer than one; but in troth, to +tell you the truth, Mr. M'Carthy, I'm a'most fairly knocked up myself, +havin' been down the counthry and through the hills the greater part of +the day. I have a great number of cattle to look afther, an' am seldom +off my foot.” + +“Don't, sir,” said his wife, in tones which were now perfectly +intelligible to him, “don't ax poor Frank to go wid you tonight; you'll +be as well widout him, especially as the night's so bright and clear; +he's tired indeed, and, be the same token, I don't like to be here in +the clouds of the night, wid nobody wid me but myself.” + +“If you're a gentlemen, sir,” said the friendly voice, “you won't take +this honest man from his wife at such an hour o' the night. If you take +my advice too, I'd recommend you to come along wid ourselves at wanst.” + +There was no mistaking the friendly voice embodied in these words, as +well as in those of Mrs. Finnerty. M'Carthy accordingly replied:-- + +“Very, well, Finnerty, I will proceed with these men. I should indeed +be sorry to cause you any additional fatigue, or to fetch you from your +house at such an hour. I will therefore put myself under the protection +and guidance of these worthy fellows, who, I hope, will remember +that although a friend to Mr. Purcel personally, yet I am none to any +harshness he may have resorted to for the recovery of his tithes.” + +“There's nobody here,” replied the still friendly voice, “inclined +to offer you any offense, bekaise you happen to be a friend to Mr. +Purcel”--and there was a marked emphasis laid upon the name--“so now,” + the voice proceeded, “you may make your mind aisy on that head.” + +A singular but significant laugh proceeded, from the other two, which, +however, was repressed by a glance from “the friend,” who said, “Come, +boys, turn out; now, sir, the sooner we get over this journey the +betther.” + +“Well, Finnerty,” said M'Carthy, “many thanks for the hospitable shelter +of your house, and to you also, Mrs. Finnerty, for your kindness and the +trouble I have occasioned you.” + +Mrs. Finnerty's voice had now nearly abandoned her; and, as our young +sportsman, after having shaken hands with her husband, now paid that +compliment to herself, he perceived that the poor creature's hand was +literally passive and cold as ice, whilst the words she attempted to +utter literally died away unspoken on her lips. + +Having got about a mile from the house, his unknown friend began to +become loquacious, and related several anecdotes of successful escape +from the meshes and minions of the law, a theme in which his +two companions seemed to take singular delight; for they laughed +immoderately at every recorded victory in outwitting the legal +functionaries aforesaid. + +“I was wanst upon a time,” he proceeded, “taken up for a resky; (* a +rescue) the case bein' you see, that we wanted the rent and the landlord +wanted patience; so begad, at any rate, we gev the bloody bailiffs a +thrifle for themselves, and the consequence was that we brought the cows +back to a neighbor's place that belonged to another property, and the +four bailiffs, poor creatures, lay upon the ground lookin' at us, an' +never said ill we did it, for a raison they had; do you undherstand, +boys?” + +“Ay, we do undherstand; the bloddy thieves; divil break his neck +that invinted rint, anyhow; sure there's no harm in wishin' that, the +villain.” + +“Ay, an' tides,” (* Tithes) replied the other; “however, we'll settle +that first, and then the rents will soon follow them; an' sure there's +no harm in that aither.” + +“Well an' good:--no, divil a harm's in it;--well an' good: to make a +long story short, they grabbed me in a house up in the mountains--not +unlike Finnerty's, I think that's his name--where I was on my keepin'; +so what 'ud you have of it, but we were comin' acrass the hills, jist as +it might be said we are now--only there's none of us a prisoner, thank +goodness--hem! Well, I said to myself, hit or miss, I'll thry it; I have +a pair o' legs, an' it won't be my fault or I'll put them to the best +use: an' for that raison it'll be divil take the hindmost wid us. Now +listen, boys; I started off, an' one fellow that had a pistol let bang +at me, but long life to the pistol, divil a one of it would go off; bang +again came the other chap's, but 'twas ditto repaited, and no go any +more than the other. Well, do you know now, that the third fellow--for +there was only three af them, I must tell you--the third fellow, I'm +inclined to think, was a friend at bottom; for the devil a one of him +struv to break his heart in overtakin' me. Well, by that manes, I say, I +got off from two of as double-distilled villains as ever wor born to die +by suspin-sion.” + +This narrative, the spirit of which was so acceptable to his two +companions, and, if truth must be told, equally so to the third, was +treasured up by M'Carthy, who felt that it ingeniously but cautiously +pointed out to him the course he should adopt under his own peculiar +circumstances. The consequence was, that on coming within about a couple +of furlongs of a dark, narrow, thickly-wooded glen, through which he +knew they must pass, he bolted off at the top of his speed, which, +although very considerable for a man whose strength had been so +completely exhausted by fatigue and the unusual slavery of that day's +wandering through the mountains, was, notwithstanding, such as would +never have enabled him to escape from his companions. + +He had not gone a perch when the click of a pistol was heard, but no +report; the fact having been, that the pistol missed fire, and did not +go off. + +“D--n your blood!” exclaimed the “friend” to the other, “fire, and don't +let him escape;” the ruffian did so when click No. 2 was heard, but as +before no report. + +“Aisy,” said the fellow who had fired first, pulling out a long Spanish +dagger; “an inch or two of this is as safe as a bullet, any day; and +by japers he won't escape it.” He sprang after M'Carthy as he spoke, +followed by his companion. The third man stepped a pace or two to the +right, and levelling a long double-barrelled pistol, deliberately fired, +when McCarthy's first pursuer fell; the second man, however, with that +remarkable, quickness of wit which characterizes the Irish, in their +outrages as well as in their pastimes, suddenly stooped, and taking +the dreadful dagger out of the hands of the wounded man, continued the +pursuit bounding after his foe with a spirit of vengeance and ferocity, +now raised to the highest pitch. The stranger, seeing that M'Carthy was +still in equal danger if not in still greater, for the now infuriated +ruffian was gaining upon him, once more levelled his pistol--fired--and, +as before, down came the intended assassin. He himself then sprang +forward, as if in pursuit of M'Carthy, exclaiming, “Hell and fury, why +did yez keep between me and him--I think he's hit; give me that dagger, +and I'll go bail I'll make his body soon put six inches of it out of +sight,” and having uttered, these words, he rushed forward, as if in +pursuit of their victim. + +After he had left them, the following brief dialogue took place between +these two worthies:-- + +“Hourigan, blazes to me but I'm shot.” + +“Hell's perdition to the unlucky villain--so am I--where are you shot, +Mark?” + +“By japers, the blood's pourin' out from me in the thigh, an' I'm afeard +I'm done for--blast his unlucky hand, the villain; I wisht I had my +dagger in him. Where are you shot, Darby?” + +“Oh, vo--vo--on the right hip--but--oh, sweet Jasus, what will become +of us if we're to die here--may the devil clap his cruibs (* Talons; +claws) in the sowl of him that done it!” + +“Amin, I pray the blessed Saviour this night! Do you think, Darby, he +was a traitor, and done it a purpose?” + +“Oh, mavrone, oh!--if I die widout the priest, what 'ud become o' me, +an' all the sins I have to answer?” + +“I say, was the villain a traitor, do you think?” + +“Mavrone, oh!--blessed Lord forgive me--well--I can hardly think +so--didn't he volunteer along wid yourself an' myself--oh, sweet Jasus! +what a life I lead--oh, Mark Ratigan, Mark Ratigan, what will become o' +me!---I swore away the lives of two innocent men--I proved three alibis +for three of as black villains as ever stretched a rope or charged a +blunderbush! 'Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy +kingdom come'--oh, Lord! forbid that yet a while! could you join in a +_Leadhan wurrah?_” + +“Blast you, you thick-headed vagabone! don't you know it's wrong to call +me Mark Ratigan--isn't Phil Hart my name now?--no, I tell you, that I +can't join you in a _Leadhan wurrah_--nor I didn't think you wor such +a d--d cowardly hound as you are--can't you die--if you're goin' to +die--like a man, an' not like an ould woman? Be my sowl, Darby, my boy, +afther this night I'll never trust you again. It's yourself that 'ud +turn traitor on your country and her cause, if you got the rope and +hangman at your nose.” + +“Holy Mary, mother of God! pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of +our death, amin! Oh, sweet Jasus! have parsecution on me this night, an' +spare me if it's your blessed will, till I get time to repint properly +anyhow. Mark, darlin', are you gettin' waker, for I am?” + +“To blazes wid you, and don't bother me--no, I'm not--I've tied +my handkerchy about the place I was shot in, an' stopped +the blood--eh--here--well done, Mark--hem--Phil Hart, I +mane--bravo--see--that now--instead of bleatin' like a dyin' sheep, I've +stopped the blood, an' here I am able to stand and walk. Come,” said he, +approaching his companion, “where are you shot?--let us see?” + +He stooped down, and on examining the Wound by the light of the moon, +perceived at once that it was not all imagination and evil conscience. +He consequently forced him to his legs, then bound up the wound with the +fellow's handkerchief just as he had done his own, and in a few minutes +they were able to resume their journey, slowly, it is true, and on the +part of Ratigan, whose wound was the more serious, with a good deal of +difficulty and pain, notwithstanding his hardihood. + +In the meantime, M'Carthy was soon overtaken by the friendly Whiteboy, +whose speed; of foot was indeed extraordinary. On seeing, the dagger +in his pursuer's hand--for such he deemed him to be--he had prepared +himself for resistance, the fact being, than in consequence of their +blackened faces, and the state of perturbation and excitement in which +he felt himself, he was in no condition to recognize any of the party +unless by their voices. + +“Don't be alarmed,” exclaimed the stranger, approaching him, “I have +saved your life for this night most likely, by takin' the, life of them +that intended to murder you.” + +“I certainly feel,” replied M'Carthy, “that I owe my life to you, and I +know not what return I can make you for it. But why should I speak so, +since I am ignorant of your name, as well as of everything whatsoever +concerning you? As to the other two persons, I cannot understand why +they should attempt to murder me, as I am not conscious of having given +offence to, any person.” + +“You have never given offence to them,” replied the stranger; “but +unfortunately this, part of the country's in such a state of feelin' at +the present time, that it's as aisy to find one man to murdher another +as it would be to get a man to shoot a dog. No, sir; you never offended +these men, but they were set on to take your life by a man who hates +you.” + +“Well, since you have been on more than one occasion so generous to me, +can you not let me know who that person is?” + +“No, sir; that man has a hundred--ay, ten hundred eyes through the +counthry--in the shape of spies--and five times as many hands any time +he may wish for them. You may thank a friend of yours for sendin' me to +save your life this night. Your family have been friends to him and to +me too, although you don't know it. As for me, I go with him heart an' +hand in puttin' down the tithes, but I'll always save the life of a +friend, if I can; and indeed I have been forced to shoot these two +men, in ordher to save yours to-night. I must go now and see what state +they're in--whether alive or dead; but before. I go, listen:--tell +the procthor that he has a fearful account to meet, and that soon; let +neither him nor his sons be fool-hardy; say to him, that the wisest +thing he can do is to remove himself and his family into the town of +Lisnagola; or, if he won't do that, to keep his house half-filled with +fire-arms; for I tell you now, the time is not long till he'll need them +all. Tell them not to go out at night at all, or even by day, +unless well armed; and do you yourself take the same advice; and now +good-night. But, listen again: there, you see, is the spot below there, +where the car was to meet you; but there's no car in it, and even if +there was, I wouldn't recommend you to go on it; and if you're goin' +to O'Driscol's don't go up the avenue, but by the back way, behind the +garden, for it's very likely there's another man--and a fearful man, on +the look-out for you, in case you should be missed by us. Farewell, for +the present.” + +A few minutes brought this kind-hearted Whiteboy back to the spot where +Hourigan and his companion, who was also his cousin, fell. He was a good +deal surprised, but still highly gratified, at not finding them where +they had fallen, as it was a 'proof to him that his aim at either had +not been fatal, as he certainly had no intention of taking their lives, +or of rendering them any greater injury than the infliction of such +wound as might put an end to their pursuit of M'Carthy. On advancing a +little farther, he saw them proceeding, by a different but shorter +path towards the inland country; and being now satisfied, from their +appearance, that they had not been mortally wounded, he left them +to reach home as best they might, and proceeded himself in another +direction. + + + + +CHAPTER XI.--The Sport Still Continued. + + +It is necessary to say here, that Moylan had not the slightest intention +of sending Mr. Purcel's car to meet our friend M'Carthy, inasmuch as he +never for a moment supposed that this devoted youth was likely to leave +the mountains alive. His own egregious vanity, engrafted on a cowardly, +jealous, and malignant disposition, prompted him, ever since he had +been induced by the pedlar, out of a mere banter, to suppose that he had +engaged the affections of Julia Purcel, to look upon this young man as +a person that ought to be got out of his way. In this manner there was, +indeed, a peculiar combination of circumstances against M'Carthy; for +it so happened that Moylan, whilst anxious to wreak his own jealousy and +hatred upon him, was, at the same time, executing the will of another +individual who stood behind the scenes. On every side, then, M'Carthy +was surrounded by mortal dangers that were completely veiled in +obscurity. During this very night it was resolved to assassinate him, +be the consequences what they might; and if he should escape, in the one +instance, he was to be sought after in whatever house he took refuge, +with the exception only of Purcel's, which his enemies were, for the +present, afraid to attack. Every avenue and road leading to it however, +was watched, with a hope that if he escaped elsewhere, they might shoot +him down from, behind a hedge. + +The condition of all secret and illegal societies in Ireland is, indeed, +shocking and most detestable, when contemplated from any point of view +whatsoever. In every one of them--that is, in every local body or +branch of such conspiracy--there is a darker and more secret class, +comparatively few in number, who undertake to organize the commission +of crimes and outrages; and who, when they are controlled by the +peaceably-disposed and enemies to bloodshed, always fall back upon this +private and blood-stained clique, who are always willing to execute +their sanguinary behests, as it were, _con amore_. In other cases, +however, as we have stated before, even the virtuous and reluctant +are often compelled, by the dark and stern decrees of these desperate +ruffians, to perpetrate crimes from which they revolt. It was, +therefore, in pursuance of these abominable principles that the +arrangements for M'Carthy's murder were made on the night in question. + +Jerry Joyce perceiving, as he had feared, that M'Carthy did not return +to dinner, at once came to the determination that he would go to +Finnerty's, where, from his connection with Whiteboyism, he knew that +a meeting of them was to be held on that night. He accordingly armed +himself with a ease of pistols, which he had been allowed to keep for +the preservation of his master's family and premises, in case they +should be attacked. He had not gone, however, within two miles of the +mountains, when he met Mogue on His way home, carrying M'Carthy's, or +rather John Purcel's double gun, and other shooting gear. + +“Why, Mogue,” said he, “how does this come? Where's Mr. M'Carthy from +you?” + +“Oh! that I may never sin--but sure I know I will--for I'm a great +sinner--God forgive me!--but anyhow, that I may never sin, if I'm worth +the washin'! Oh! Jerry, darlin', sick a killin' day as we had I never +passed, an' I'm well accustomed to the mountains. Sure, now, Jerry, if +you have one spunk of common charity in your composition, you'll take me +up on your back and carry me home, otherwise I'll lie down on the road, +and either die at wanst or sleep it out till mornin'.” + +“But that's not tellin' me where you left Mr. M'Carthy,” replied Jerry, +whose apprehensions were not at all lessened by this indirect and +circuitous answer. “Where is he, and what has become of him?” + +“Of all the mists that ever riz out o' the airth, or fell from the +blessed heavens above as--glory be to the name of God! we had it on the +mountains this whole day. Why, now, Jerry, a happy death to me, but you +might cut it with a knife, at the very least, an' how we got through it, +I'm sure, barrin' the Providence of God, I dunna. But indeed we're far +from bein' worthy of the care He takes of us.” + +While speaking, he had, as an illustration of his fatigue, taken his +seat upon the grassy ditch, which bounded in the road, and altogether +enacted the part of a man completely broken down by over-exertion. + +“But, Mogue, my pious creature, you're not tellin' us where you left--” + +“Why, then, salvation to you, for one Jerry, do you think it's ait him +I did? Sound asleep in Frank Finnerty's I left him, where he'll be well +taken care of. Oh! thin, if ever a poor inoffensive young gintleman--for +sure he's that by birth, as we say, at all events, as well as by +larnin'--was brought to death's door with this day's work, he was. I +thought to flatther him home if he could come, but it was no go. An' +thin, agin, I thought it was a sin to ax' him; an' so for a afraid +they'd be alarmed at home, I was on my way to make all your minds aisy. +An' whisper hether, Jerry--not that I look upon Frank Finnerty an the +man he ought to be, for we all know the narrow escape he had for the +murder of Tom Whisky's son--still an' all, he's safe wid Finnerty, +bekaise he knows that we know where he is, and that if anything happened +him we'd hould him accountable.” + +“Well,” replied Jerry, affecting a satisfaction which, however, he did +not feel, “I'm glad he's safe; for, as you say, Mogue, although Frank +Finnerty is pretty well known, still what could tempt him to harm Mr. +M'Carthy?” + +“I know that,” said Mogue; “still an' all, the nerra foot I'd brought +him to his house, only we stumbled on it out o' the mist, by mere +accident, an' by coorse it was the next to us. Goodness' sake, Jerry, +carry these things home for me, will you? I'm not able to mark the +ground--do, avick, an' I'll offer up a pathran avy for you before I lay +down my head this night, tired as I am.” + +“Well, begad, it's myself that would, Mogue, but you see, as I'm out for +a while, an' so near my poor mother's, throth I'll slip over and see +how she is, the crature; only for that, Mogue, I'd lighten you of the +shootin' things wid a heart an' a half.” + +“But sure you can see your poor mother, the crature, any other evenin'? +Do come back, Jerry, an' I'll do twiste as much for you agin. Oh! +oh! milia murther! I'm not able to get on my legs. Give me your hand, +Jerry--oh! oh!--well, well--what's this at all? Jerry, achora, don't +desart me now, 'an me in the state you see. I'll never get home by +myself--that's what I won't--mavrone, oh! what's this?--I'm fairly +kilt.” + +“Well, but the thruth is, Mogue,” replied his companion, “that I got +a message from my mother, sayin' that she's not well, and wishes most +partiklarly to see me about my sisther Shibby's marriage. Now, Mogue, +you're a pious and religious boy, an' would be the last to encourage me +to neglect a parent's wishes: ay, or that would allow me to do so, even +if I intended it; throth I know it's a scoulden' you'd give me if I +did.” + +Mogue's flank was completely turned; he was, in fact, most adroitly +taken upon his own principle; his egregious vanity was ticked by this +compliment to his piety; and, as he was at no time a person of firm +character, he gave way. + +Thought Jerry to himself, as he left this plausible hypocrite, to +proceed home under his affected fatigue, “I know there's mischief on +foot to-night, for if there wasn't I an' others 'ud be summoned to this +meetin'; there will be nobody there, I suppose, but the black squad or +the bloodmen. It'll go hard wid me, at any rate, but I'll send one there +that'll bring Mr. M'Carthy from among them without suspicion; an' so +here goes to lose no time about it.” + +He then plunged into the most solitary and remote fields, and pursued +his way, anxious, if possible, to meet no one, much less any of those +who belonged, as he said, “to the black squad.” + +Of late, the state of public feeling upon the subject of tithes had +become so violent and agitated, that Mr. Purcel's immediate friends +found it almost a matter involving their personal safety to dine with +him. At all events, such of them as accepted his hospitality took +care to leave his house very early, and to keep themselves well armed +besides. On the evening in question, no one had been invited but +M'Carthy and Fergus O'Driscol. The heroic magistrate, however, ever +since the receipt of the threatening letter, would not suffer his son +(who certainly participated in none of his father's cowardice), to dine +abroad at all, lest his absence and well-known intrepidity might induce +the Whiteboys, or other enemies of law, to attack the house when its +principal defence was from home. The evening, therefore, hung heavy on +their heads at Longshot Lodge, which was the name of Purcel's +residence, especially upon that of the fair Julia, who felt not merely +disappointed, but unusually depressed' by the unaccountable absence of +her lover, knowing as she did, the turbulence which prevailed in the +country. She scarcely ate any dinner, and in the course of a short time +retired to her own room, which commanded a view of the way by which he +should approach the house, where she watched, casement up, until +she heard a foot in the avenue, which, however, her acute ear, well +accustomed to McCarthy's, soon told her was not that of her lover. On +looking more closely she perceived, however, that it was Mogue Moylan; +and, unable to restrain her impatience, she raised the window still +higher, and called down as Mogue passed under it, on his way round to +the kitchen, but in a low, earnest voice, with, as Mogue thought, a good +deal of confidential in it, “Is that Mogue?” + +“Eh!” he exclaimed, struck almost on the instant into a state of +ecstacy; “Is that Miss Julia?” + +“Yes, Mogue,” she replied, in the same low voice, “I do not wish to run +the risk of speaking to you from this; stay there, and I will go to one +of the windows of the front parlor.” + +“Well,” thought Mogue, “it is come to this at last? oh, thin, but I +was a blackguard haythen an' nothing else ever to think of you, Letty +Lenehan, or any low-born miscreant like you. The devil blow her aist, +waist, north, and south, the flipen' blazes, and to think o' the +freedoms she used to take wid me, as if she was my aquils; but sure, dam +her cribs! whatever I intended to do, it wasn't to marry her, an' can I +forget, moreover, the day she gave me the bloody nose, when I only went +to take a small taste o' liberty wid the thief.” + +In the course of a minute or two, Julia made her appearance at the +window, with, in fact, a blushing face, if it could have only been seen +with sufficient light. Now that she stood within a couple of yards of +Moylan, she felt all the awkwardness and embarrassment of the task +she had undertaken, which was to inquire, without seeming to feel any +personal interest, as to the cause of her lover's absence. In addition +to the prevailing agitation, and the outrages arising from if, she had +heard of so many accidents with sportsmen, so many guns had burst, so +many explosions had taken place, and so many lives had been lost, that +her warm fancy pictured his death in almost every variety of way in +which a gun could occasion it. Owing to all this, she experienced +a proportionable share of confusion and diffidence in managing her +inquiries with proper address, and without betraying any suspicion of +her motives. + +“Mogue,” said she, “I--hem--hem--I hope you don't feel fatigued after +your sport'?” + +“Ah, then, there it comes,” thought Mogue; “how the crature feels for +me! an' even if I did, Miss Julia, sure one kind word when I come home +is fit to cure it.” + +“And you are sure to get that, Mogue,” replied Julia, who took it for +granted that he referred to Letty Lenehan, “but whisper,” she proceeded, +still speaking in a low voice, from an apprehension of being heard +making the proposed inquiries by any of her family, “are you alone?” + +“I am, indeed, Miss Julia,” he replied in a tone of such coaxing and +significant confidence, as would have been irresistibly laughable had +she understood why he used it, “I am alone, Miss Julia, and you needn't +be either ashamed or daunted in sayin' whatever you like to me--maybe I +could guess what you're goin' to say, but I declare to you, and that +my bed may be in heaven, but, say what you will, you'll find me--honor +bright--do you understand that, Miss Julia?” + +“Well, I think I do, Mogue, and if I didn't think so, I wouldn't have +watched your return to-night as I did, or been here to speak to you on +the subject you say you--know.” + +“An' sure, Miss Julia, you might a known, for some time past that I knew +it; didn't I look like one that was up to it? An' listen hether, Miss +Julia, my family was all honor bright; we wor great people in our day; +sure we owned a big sweep of country long ago an' wor great sogers. We +fought against the Sassenaghs, the dirty English bodaghs, an' because +there was a lot of us ever an' always hanged from time to time, that's +the raison why we have sich a hatred to the English law still, one an' +all of us. Sure my grandfather, glory be to God, was hanged for killin' +a Sassenagh gauger, and my own father, Miss Julia, did his endeavors +to be as great as the best of them, knowin' no other way for to vex and +revinge himself upon the dirty Sassenaghs of the country; for sure, you +know yourself, it's full o' them'--ay, about us in all directions. Be +borried a horse in a private way from one o' them, but then he escaped +from that; he next had a 'bout at what they call'd perjury, although it +was well known to us all that it was only his thumb he kissed, and, any +how, the thing was done upon a Protestant Bible; but, at all events, he +went an' honest and honorably, as far as gettin' himself transported for +parjury. I hope you understhand, Miss Julia, that I'm accountin' for any +disparagin' observations you might a' heard against us, an' showin' you +why we acted as we did.” + +“But, Mogue,” said she, smiling at this most incomprehensible piece of +family history, “I hope you don't intend to imitate the example or to +share the fate of so many of your family!” + +“You really hope so; now do you really hope so, Miss Julia?” + +“Unquestionably; for granting you marry, as, I dare say you intend, +would it not be a melancholy prospect for your wife to--” + +“Why, then I do intend it; are you not satisfied, Miss Julia? and what +is more, although it's my intention to violate the law in a private and +confidential way, still I have no intention of bein' either hanged or +transported by it; that I may be happy if I have--No, for the sake of +that wife, Miss Julia, do you understand, it's my firm intention to die +in my bed if I can; I hope you feel that there's comfort in that.” + +“To whatever woman you make happy Mogue, there will be. Well, but, +Mogue, tell me; had you a good day's sport?” + +“Sorra worse then; God pardon me for swearin',” he replied. “There riz +a mist in the mountains that a man could build a house wid, if there was +any implements to be found, hard and sharp enough to cut it. All we got +was a brace of grouse and a snipe or two.” + +“And--hem--well but--hem--why Mogue, you give but a very miserable +account of the proceedings of the day. Had you any one with you?--Oh, +yes, by the way, did I not see Mr. M'Carthy go out with you this +morning?” + +“Yes, Miss Julia, you did; he went out wid me, sure enough,” replied +Mogue, drily, and with rather a dissatisfied tone. + +“He is a--hem, does he shoot well?” + +“He shoots well enough, Miss Julia--when he pulls the trigger the gun +goes off; but as for killin' birds, that my bed may be in heaven but +they fly away laughin' at him.” + +“He came with you as far as O'Driscol's,” she said, at once putting a +query in the shape of an assertion, “and I suppose sent some apology to +my father and brothers, for not having been here to dinner.” + +“Hem! come as far as Mr. O'Driscol's?” exclaimed Mogue; “troth he's +about the poorest piece o' goods ever carried a gun--God help the +unhappy woman that'll get him; for sorra thing he is but a mere excuse +for a man. I left him lyin' like a half-hung dog, up in the mountains +above.” + +Julia started, and almost screamed with terror at this account of her +lover. “Gracious heavens, Moylan, what do you mean?” she exclaimed--“up +in the mountains!--where and how in the mountains? Is he ill, or does he +want aid or assistance?” + +“No, Miss Julia; but the truth is, he's a poor cur of a creature that's +not able to undertake a man's task at all; he's lyin' knocked up in +Frank Finnerty's; moanin' and groanin' an' yowlin', like a sick hound; I +had to carry or drag him over half the mountains; for, from the blessed +hour of twelve o'clock this day, he wasn't able to put a foot undher +him, an' he did nothing but blasphayme' an' curse every one he knew; +your fathers and brothers, your sisther, and mother, and yourself; he +cursed and blasphaymed you all, helther skelther; I could bear all, +Miss. Julia till he came to run you down, an' 'tis well for him that +I hadn't the gun in my hand when he did it, that's all; or, that I may +never do an ill turn but I'd a' given him a touch o' the Moylan blood +for your sake--an' now, Miss Julia,” he proceeded, “I hope we understand +one another. As for him he's a pitiful whelp!” + +“Are you in jest or earnest?” she inquired, changing her tone. + +“That luck may flow on me, but I'm in airnest, Miss Julia--but no +matther for that, don't you let you spirits down, think of our great +family; and remimber that them that was wanst great may be great agin. +Plaise God we'll have back the forwhitled estates, when we get the +Millstone broke, an' the Mill that ground us banished from the counthry; +however, that will come soon; but in the mane time, Miss Julia, I have a +saycret to tell you about him.” + +“About Mr. M'Carthy?” she asked, sadly puzzled as to the tendency and +object of his conversation, but at the same time somewhat awakened to an +indistinct interest, respecting this secret concerning her lover. + +“Yes, miss; listen hether, Miss Julia; would you believe it that he, Mr. +M'Carthy, is sworn, or any way as good as sworn, to take your father's +life away?” + +“No, Mogue,” she replied firmly, but with good humor, “not a syllable.” + +“Well then,” he proceeded, “if he did not swear to do it in plain words, +he did as good. You won't braithe a syllable of this, Miss Julia; but +listen still--You know the ruction that's through, the counthry aginst +tides?” + +“I do, I am sorry to say.” + +“An' that the whole counthry is sworn Whiteboys, and that all the +Whiteboys in sworn, of coorse, to put an end to them. That's the oath +they take now, miss, by all accounts.” + +“So they say Mogue.” + +“Well, miss, would you believe it, that that fellow, the ungrateful +hound that he is, that same Francis M'Carthy, is at the head of them, is +one of their great leaders, and is often out at night wid the villains, +leadin' them on to disturbances, and directin' them how to act; ay, an' +he doesn't like a bone in Mr. O'Driscol's body, any more than in your +father's.” + +“Ha!--ha!--ha! very good, Mogue, but make it short--ha!--ha!--ha!--and +who's your authority for all this?” + +“Himself, miss, for a great part of it; it was this day, he wanted +myself to become a White-boy; but I had the grace o' God about me, I +hope, an' resisted the temptation. 'Mogue,' says he, 'you are a good +Catholic, an' ought to join us; we're sworn to put down the tides +altogether, an' to banish Protestantism out o' the counthry.'” + +“But is not M'Carthy himself a Protestant?” said Julia. + +“Not he, miss, he only turned to get a lob o' money from the Great +College in Dublin above; sure they provide for any one that will turn, +but he's a true Catholic at heart; air when the time comes he'll show +it.” + +“And you say he joins their meetings at night, Mogue?” + +“That I may be blest, but he does, miss; and since you must know the +truth, he's at one o' them this very night.” + +“Then you have told me a falsehood with respect to his fatigue?” + +“He put me up to it, miss; and bid me say it; howandever my mind wasn't +aisy undher it; and now you know the truth.” + +“And does he blacken his face as well as the other Whiteboys?” + +“That hurt or harm may never come near me but he does that same; I have +it from them that seen him and knew him, in spite o' black face an' +all.” + +“Ha! ha! ha!--well good-night, Mogue, and many thanks for your most +important and truthful secret.” + +“Before you go, Miss Julia, one other word; listen, there a man worth +a ship load of him, that's in grate consate wid you--remember the ould +families, Miss Julia, an' them that suffered for--for--their counthry. +Now here' the kind o' man I'd recommend you for a husband; don't let +a pair o' red cheeks or black eyes lead you by the nose--an' what +signifies a good figure, when neither the handsomest nor the strongest +man can keep off a headache or a fit o' the blackguard cholic--bad luck +to it--when they come on one. No, Miss Julia, always in the man that's +to be your husband, prefer good lastin' color in the complection, an' +little matther about the color of the eyes if they always smile upon +yourself--then agin, never marry a man that swears, Miss Julia, but a +man that's fond of his prayers, and is given to piety--sich men never +use any but harmless oaths, sich as may I be blest, salvation to me, and +the like--that's the kind o' men to make a husband of, and I have sich a +man in my eye for you.” + +“Thank you, Mogue,” said Julia, who was too quick-witted to +misunderstand him any longer. “Many thanks for your good advice--and +whisper, Mogue--who knows but I may follow it? Good-night!” + +“Good-night, darlin',” he whispered in a kind of low triumphant cackle, +that caused her to shake her very sides with laughter, after she had +closed the window. + +Julia Purcel, who could attribute Moylan's extraordinary conversation to +nothing but a more than usual indulgence in liquor, did not for a +single moment suffer herself to become influenced by the unaccountable +information which she had heard respecting M'Carthy. But even if it had +been true, she was so peculiarly circumstanced, that without disclosing +the private conversation she had had with Moylan, she could not without +pain communicate it to her family. As it was, however, she placed no +confidence whatever in any portion of it, and on further reflection, +she felt all her apprehensions concerning M'Carthy revived. If she +experienced anything in the shape of satisfaction from the dialogue, it +arose from the fact that if M'Carthy had suffered injury, Mogue would +not have been so much at ease on his return. When his return was +made known, however, to the family at large, Mogue repeated his first +version, and assured them that he, M'Carthy had laid down in Finnerty's +for an hour or so to recruit his strength. He supposed he would soon +be home, he said--or for that matter, maybe as he found himself +comfortable, he would stop there for the night. Mogue himself had come +home to make their minds easy, and to let them know where he was, and +what had kept him away. To a certain extent the family were satisfied, +but as M'Carthy had communicated to the male portion of them the +friendly warning he had got from the Whiteboy, they said, that although +he might have been, safe enough when Mogue left him in the mountains, +yet considering the state of the country, and that he unquestionably +had enemies, he might not be free from danger on his way home. There +was scarcely a night in the week that the country was not traversed by +multitudes of those excited and unscrupulous mobs, that struck terror +to the hearts of the peaceful, or such as were obnoxious to them. +Accordingly, after waiting a couple of hours, Alick Purcel got a double +case of pistols, and proposed to go as far as O'Driscol's, where they +took it for granted, as he had not been able to come to dinner, they +would find him should he have returned. + +“Alick,” said the father, “after all the notices we have got, and +considering the feeling that is against us, it is ridiculous to be +fool-hardy--don't go by the road but cross the fields.” + +“Such is my intention, sir,” replied Alick; “for although no coward, +still I am but flesh and blood, and it is death you know, for mere flesh +and blood to stop a bullet. Give me my enemy face to face and I don't +fear him, but when he takes me at night from behind a hedge, courage is +of little use, and won't save my life.” + +On arriving at O'Driscol's, he found that M'Carthy had not come, and +after waiting till one o'clock, he prepared to take his departure. At +this moment, a female servant tapped at the drawing-room door, and after +having been desired to come in, she communicated the following startling +particulars:--She had forgotten her washing, she said, and gone out a +little time before to bring it in, and in doing so, she spied several +men with black faces and white shirts skulking about the house. She was +not sure, she said, on having the question put to her, whether she had +been seen by them or not. + +This communication, which was given with every mark of alarm and terror, +completely altered the posture of affairs at the magistrate's. Katherine +O'Driscol's face became deadly pale as she turned a glance upon young +Purcel, which he well understood. “Alick,” said she, “under these +circumstances, it would, be absolute madness to attempt going home +to-night. It is very likely they have discovered that you are here, and +are watching for you.” + +“But if I do not return home,” he replied, “it is equally probable that +John and my father, wondering at my delay, may come to look for me, and +in that case they might meet these ruffians--or rather might be waylaid +by them.” + +“Purcel, my dear fellow!” said the magistrate, who was now pretty deep +in his cups, and consequently somewhat pot-valiant--or at least disposed +to show them a touch of his valor--“Alick, my dear fellow, you are +courageous enough, I admit, but at the same time, you must put yourself +under the guidance of a brave and loyal old magistrate, who is not to be +cowed and intimidated by a crew of midnight cut-throats. You'll gee now, +Alick, my boy, what a touch of loyal courage can do. Upon my honor, and +conscience, I will myself escort you home.” + +“By no means, sir,” replied Purcel, “I could not think of putting you to +such a risk, and inconvenience at this late hour.” + +“But I say by all manes, Alick--and as for inconvanience, it is none at +all.” + +“But Mr. Purcel will expose neither himself nor you, my dear father,” + said Katherine; “he will be guided by good sense, and remain here +to-night.” + +“Tut! you foolish cowardly girl, go to bed--you play loo very well, and +have won seven-and-sixpence from me to-night. That's your province. +No, upon my sowl and honor, I'll see him home. What! is it for the +intelligent and determined O'Driscol, as your brother John said--and who +is well known to be a very divil incarnate when danger's before him--is +it for such a man--the terror of evil-doers--to funk from a crew of +White-boys! What would my friend the Castle say if it knew it?--divil +resave the line ever it would correspond with me again. Get me my +pistols, I say--a case for each pocket, and the blunderbush under my +arm--then come on, M'Donough, as the play says, and blazes to him who +runs last.” Here he gave a lurch a little to the one side, after which +he placed himself in something intended for a military attitude, and +drawing his hand down his whiskers, he inflated himself as if about to +give the word of command, “Soldiers, steady,”--here he gave another +lurch--“recover omes (arms)--charge bayonets--present--halt--to the +right about--double quick--:bravo--you see what I could do, if placed in +a military position.” + +“We do, sir,” said Fergus, laughing; “not a doubt of it.” The latter +then whispered something to Purcel, who smiled, and immediately turning +to the doughty magistrate, said:-- + +“Well, sir, since you insist upon protecting me home--” + +“Good--that's the word, Alick--steady boys--shoulder omes.” + +“I will feel very happy, sir, in your escort.” + +“Yes, Alick--yes--exactly so--but then we are time enough, man--the +night's but young yet--we must have another tumbler before we go--if it +is only to put terror into these villains.” + +“I am exceedingly sorry that it is out of my power to wait, sir. My +father and John may possibly come over here, and if they do it is +difficult to say what these blood-thirsty villains, who care so little +about human life--especially, sir, when that life belongs to either a +tithe-proctor or a magistrate, may do. You will oblige me very much, +sir, by coming with me now. I wish to heavens I had your courage, Mr. +O'Driscol, and that I-was such a wicked and desperate dare-devil as you +are.” + +“Good, Alick, upon my honor and conscience, you've hit me off +there--hallo--what is this?--put these pistols and that blunder-bush +aside, and be d--d to you, we don't want them yet awhile;” this was +addressed to the servant who had brought them at Fergus's suggestion. “I +am a hospitable man, Alick--a convivial man--and I tell you that I don't +wish a guest to leave my house with dry lips--and what is more, I won't +allow it--sit down then, and take your punch, or if you're afraid of +these fellows why didn't you say so?” + +“I am then, sir,” replied Alick, who thought that by admitting the fact, +he might the sooner bring matters between himself and the magistrate to +a crisis. + +“What!” exclaimed the latter, “you admit your cowardice, do you?--Well, +upon my honor and reputaytion, Alick, I'm extremely surprised at you--a +young fellow like you--and a coward! Now I'll tell you what, Alick, I +hate a coward--I despise a coward, and d--n me if any man who is mane +enough to acknowledge himself to be one, shall have the benefit of +my escort this night. Then stay where you are, sir, and take your +punch--but you are not entitled to any protection; no, confound me if +you are! A nice office for a man of my mettle to escort a coward!--no, +no--take your punch, I say--you are safe under this roof, but as +touching my protection, no fellow of your kidney shall resave it from +me, unless in honest open daylight with a body of police or military at +my elbow; and, besides, you have declined my hospitality, Mr. Purcel, +and with the man--but man you are not--who declines my hospitality, +I will keep no terms. Here's the 'Castle!' long life to it, and may +it never have occasion to read me a lecture for protecting a coward! +Steady, men--shoulder oines!--ah, I'm a pearl before swine here:--upon +my honor and conscience, I'm nothing else--hurra!” + +Whilst this manifestation of courage and loyalty was proceeding, his +daughter had sent a little girl by a lonely and circuitous way across +the fields to Longshot Lodge, with a message to the effect that they +had prevailed upon Alick to stop for the night, and that he would also +breakfast there the next morning. The little girl's absence was very +brief, and on her return, Alick had no hesitation in remaining. The +heroic magistrate, having taken another tumbler, began to get drowsy, +and with some assistance, was prevailed on to go to bed, where he almost +immediately fell asleep. The two young men then got together all the +arms and ammunition in the house, which, having made ready for an +attack, they went also to bed, taking only their coats off, where for +the present we leave them--but not asleep--and return to M'Carthy, for +whose absence, no doubt, the reader is anxious that we should account. + + + + +CHAPTER XII.--Out of the Frying-Pan into the Fire. + + +M'Carthy on that night had not gone far, after having separated from the +friendly Whiteboy, when he was met by a powerfully-formed man, who, he +thought, bore a considerable resemblance in shape and size to the fellow +who had been invested with authority not long before in Finnerty's. On +seeing that it was M'Carthy, the stranger, whose face was blackened, +and who also wore the white shirt outside, approached him coolly but +determinedly, and laying his hand upon his shoulder, said--: “Your name +is Francis M'Carthy'?” and as he spoke, M'Carthy could perceive the ends +of a case of pistols projecting from his breast within the shirt, which +was open at the neck. + +“As I have never knowingly done anything that should occasion me to deny +my name, I acknowledge it--you know me, of course.” + +“I know you well. I meek it a point to know everyone who is worth +knowing. In the meantime, M'Carthy, you'll come along with me, if you +pleese.” + +“It is not at all clear that I will,” replied M'Carthy; “you are a +perfect stranger to me--at least your disguise makes you so. You are out +on illegal business, as is evident from that disguise, and you are armed +with a case of pistols. Now, under these circumstances, happen what may, +until I know more about you, and who you are, I will not walk one inch +in your society, except as a free agent.” + +“Hear me,” replied the other; “you were singled out for murdher this +night, and you only escaped by a miracle--by the assistance of a man who +is a warm friend to you, and who got information of the danger you wor +in from another friend who suspected that you were in that danger. Two +pistols wor loaded to settle you, as they say. Well, the person that +saved your life damped the powder in these pistols--both wor snapped at +you, and they didn't go off--am I right?” + +“You are right for so far, certainly.” + +“Well, then, the other two who followed you--one of them with a long, +sharp dagger--were shot down--d--n your friend that didn't send the +bullets through their brains instead of their hams and limbs; however, +they fell and you escaped--am I right?” + +“Perfectly correct,” replied M'Carthy; “and you must have had your +information only from the person who befriended me.” + +“Well, then, have you-any objection to come with me now?” + +“Every objection; I wish to go either to Mr. O'Driscol's or Mr. +Purcel's.” + +“Listen. I say if you attempt this night to go to either one house or +the other, you will never carry your life to them. If I was your enemy, +and wished to put a bullet into you, what is there to prevent me now, I +ask you?” + +“All, my good friend,” replied M'Carthy, “that argument won't pass with +me. Many. a man there is--and I dare say you know it well--who feels +a strong scruple against committing murder with his own hands, who, +notwithstanding, will not scruple to employ others to commit it for +him.” + +“Do you refuse to come with me, then? because if you do to-morrow +mornin' will rise upon your corpse. Even I couldn't save you if you were +known. There's a desperate and a dreadful game goin' to be played soon, +and as you stand in the way of a man that possesses great power, and has +a perticular end in view--the consequence is that you are doomed. Even +if you do come with me, I must blacken your face, in ordher to prevint +you from being known.” + +“Will you answer me one question candidly,” said M'Carthy--“if it's a +fair one? Did I see you to-night before?” + +“Ask me no question,” replied the man; “for I won't answer any I don't +like, and that happens to be one o' them. Whether you saw me this night +before, or whether you didn't, there is no occasion for me to say so, +and I won't say it.” + +“I think I know him now,” said M'Carthy; “and if I judge correctly, he +is anything but a safe guide.” + +“Come,” said the huge Whiteboy, “make up your mind; I won't weet another +minute.” + +M'Carthy paused and deliberately reconsidered as coolly as possible all +the circumstances of the night. It was obvious that this man must have +had his information with respect to the recent events from his friendly +preserver--a man who would not be likely to betray him into danger after +having actually saved his life, by running the risk of committing two +murders. On the other band it was almost clear, from the manner in which +the person before him pronounced certain words, as well as from his +figure, that he was the celebrated and mysterious Buck English of whose +means of living every one was ignorant, and who, as he himself had +heard, expressed a strong dislike to him. + +“Before I make up my mind,” said M'Carthy, “may I ask another question?” + +“Fifty if you like, but I won't promise to answer any one o' them.” + +“Was I brought to Finnerty's house with an evil purpose?” + +“No: the poor, pious fool that brought you--there--but I'm wrong in +sayin' so--for it was the mist that done it. No, the poor fool that came +there with you is a crature that nobody would trust. He thinks you're +lyin' sound asleep in Finnerty's this minute. He's fit for nothing but +prayin' and thinking the girls in love with him.” + +“Well,” replied M'Carthy, “at all events you are a brother Irishman, and +I will put confidence in you; come, I am ready to accompany you.” + +“In that case, then, you must suffer me to blacken your face, and for +fear your shoot-in' jacket might betray you, I'll put this shirt over +it.” + +He then pulled out an old piece of crumpled paper that contained a +mixture of lampblack and grease, with which he besmeared his whole face, +from his neck to the roots of his hair, after which he stripped the +shirt he wore outside his clothes, and in about two or three minutes +completely metamorphosed our friend M'Carthy into a thorough-looking +Whiteboy. + +“Come along now,” said he, “and folly me; but even as it is, and in +spite of your disguise, we must take the lonesomest way to the only +place I think you'll be safe in.” + +“I am altogether in your hands,” replied M'Carthy, “and shall act as you +wish.” + +They then proceeded across the country for about two miles, keeping +up towards the mountainous district, after which they made a turn and +entered a deep valley, in whose lowest extremity stood a long, low +house. + +“Now,” said the stranger, “before we go in here, remember what I'm goin' +to say to' you. If any one--I mean a Whiteboy,”--here M'Carthy started, +struck by the peculiarity of the pronunciation--a circumstance which +by no means strengthened his sense, of security--“if any of them should +come across you and ask you for the pass, here it is. _What's the hour?_ +Answer--_Very near the right one. Isn't it come yet?_ Answer--_The hour +is come, but not the man. When will he come?_ Answer--_He is within +sight_.” He repeated these words three or four times, after which he and +M'Carthy entered the house. + +“God save all here!” said the guide. + +“God save you kindly, boys.” + +“Mrs. Cassidy,” he continued, “here's poor fellow on his keepin' for +tithe business and although you don't know me, I know you well enough +to be sartin that you'll give this daicent boy a toss in a bed till +daybreak--an' a mouthful to ate if he should want it.” + +“Troth an' I will, sir; isn't one o' my poor boys in Lisnagola goal +for the same tithes--bad luck to them--that is for batin' one of the +vagabonds that came to collect them. Troth he'll have the best bed in my +house.” + +“And listen, Mrs. Cassidy; if any of us should happen to come here +to-night--although I don't think it's likely they will, still it's hard +to say, for the country's alive with with them--if any of them should +come here, don't let them know that this poor boy is in the house--do +you mind?” + +“Ah, then, it would be a bad day or night either I wouldn't.” + +“Will you have anything to ate or dhrink,” asked the guide of M'Carthy.. + +“Nothing,” replied the other; “I only wish to get to bed.” + +“Come, then,” said the colossal Whiteboy, “I'll show you where you're to +lie.” + +They accordingly left the kitchen, passed through a tolerably large +room, with two or three tables and several chairs in it, and entered +another, which was also of a good size. Here there was a bed, and +in this M'Carthy was to rest--if rest he could under a series of +circumstances so extraordinary and exciting. + +“Now,” said his guide, for such we must call him--“observe this,” and +he brought him to a low window which opened at the back of the house, +“press that spot where you see the frame is sunk a little--you can feel +it, too, aisily enough in the dark--very well, press that with your +thumb and the windy will open by being pushed outwards. If you feel or +find that there's any danger you can slip out of it; however, don't be +alarmed bekase you may hear voices. There's only one set that you may be +afraid of--they're on the look-out for yourself--but I don't think it's +likely they'll come here. If they do, however, and that you hear them +talkin' about you, there's your way to get off. Come, now, I must try +you again before I go. What's the hour?” + +“Very near the right one.” + +“Isn't it come yet?” + +“The hour is come but not the man.” + +“When will he come?” + +“He is within sight.” + +“Now, good-bye, you may take a good sleep but don't strip; lie just as +you are--that's twiste your life has been saved this night. In the mane +time, you must give me back that overall shirt--your danger I hope is +past, but I may want it to-night yet; and stay, I was near spoilin' +all--I forgot to give you the right grip--here it is--if any of them +shakes hands wid you, mark this--he presses the point of his thumb on +the first joint of your fore-finger, and you press yours upon the middle +joint of his little finger, this way--you won't forget that now?” + +“Certainly not,” replied M'Carthy, “I will remember it accurately.” + +“Very well,” he proceeded, “take my advice, get to Dublin without +delay--if you remain here you're a dead man; you may never see me again, +so God bless you.” and with these words he left him. + +It is difficult to describe M'Carthy's state of mind on finding himself +alone. The events of the night, fearful as they were, joined to +his singular and to him unaccountable escape--his present state of +uncertainty and the contingent danger that awaited him--the fact that +parties were in search of him for the purpose of taking away his life, +whilst he himself remained utterly unconscious of the cause which +occasioned such, a bitter and unrelenting enmity against him--all +these reflections, coming together upon a mind already distracted +and stupefied by want of rest, and excessive weariness--succeeded in +inducing first a wild sense of confusion--then forgetfulness of his +position, and ultimately sound and dreamless sleep. How long that +sleep had continued he could not even guess, but be that as it may, +on awaking, he heard, medley of several voices in the next room, all +engaged in an earnest conversation, as was evident, not merely from the +disjointed manner of their pronunciation but a strong smell of liquor +which assailed his nose. His first impulse was to arise and escape by +the window, but on reflection, as he saw by the light of their candle +that the door between the two apartments was open, he deemed it safer +to keep quiet for a little, with a hope that they might soon take their +departure. He felt anxious, besides, to ascertain whether the party +in question consisted of those whom the strange guide had mentioned as +being his enemies. In the meantime, the following agreeable dialogue +greeted his ears and banished for the moment every other thought and +consideration. + +“It was altogether a bad business this night. He was as well set as man +could be, but hell pursue the pistols, they both missed fire; and thim +that did go off hit the wrong men. The same two--we can't names boys, +won't be the betther of it for some time. We met them, you see, in the +mountains, where we wor goin' on a little business. Here's that we may +never ait worse mait than mutton!” + +“More power, Dick--Dick, (hiccup) you're a trojan, an' so was your +father and mother afore you; here's your to--toast, Dick, that we +may ever an' always ait no worse mait than--praties an' point, +hurra!--that's the chat, ha!--ha!--ha!--ah, begad it's we that's the +well-fed boys--ay, but sure our friends the poor parsons has been always +starvin' in the counthry.” + +“Always starvin' the counthry!” exclaimed another, playing upon the +word, “be my sowl you're right there, Ned. Well sure they're gettin' a +touch of it now themselves; by japers, some o' them knows what it is to +have the back and belly brought together, or to go hungry to bed, as the +sayin' is; but go on, Dick, an' tell us how it was.” + +“Why, you see, we went back when we heard that the house was to be +attacked, and only he escaped the way he did, it wouldn't be attacked; +howaniver, you know it's wid O'Driscol--a short cooser to him, too, and +he'll get it--it's wid O'Driscol he stops. So off we went, and waited in +Barney Broghan's still-house, where we had a trifle to dhrink.” + +“Divil resave the bet--bettherer spirits ever came from--a still--il +eye, nor dar-lent Bar--ar--ney Brogh--aghan makes--whisht!--more +power!--won't the counthry soon--be our--our--own--whips!” + +“Ned, hould your tongue, an' let him go 'an; well, Dick.” + +“Afther waitin' in the still-house till what we thought was the proper +time, we went to O'Driscol's, and first struv to get in quietly, but you +see we had no friends in the camp, for the men-servants all sleep in the +outhouses, barrin' the butler; an' he's not the thing for Ireland. Well +and good, although among ourselves, it was anything but well and good +this night; however, we demanded admittance, an' jist as if they had +been on the watch for us--a windy was raised, and a voice called out to +us to know what we wanted. + +“'Neither to hurt or harm any one in the house,' we said, 'or belongin' +to it; but there is a stranger in it that we must have out.' + +“'Ay,' said another voice, that several of us knew to be Mr. Alick +Purcel's; 'here I am--you scoundrels, but that's your share of me. If +you don't begone instantly,' says he, swearin' an oath, 'we'll shoot you +like dogs where you stand.' + +“'We know you, Mr. Purcel,' says we, 'but it isn't you we want +to-night--your turn's to come yet; time about is fair play. It's +M'Carthy we want.' + +“'You must want him, then,' says young O'Driscol, 'for he's not here; +and even if he was, you should fight for him before you'd get him--but +what might your business be wid him?' he asked. 'Why,' says we, +'there's a man among us that has an account to settle wid him.' + +“'Ah, you cowardly scoundrels,' says he, 'that's a disgrace to the +counthry, and to the very name of Irishman; it's no wondher for +strangers to talk of you as they do--no wondher for your friends to +have a shamed face for your disgraceful crimes. You would now take an +inoffensive gintleman--one that never harmed a man of you, nor any one +else--you'd take him out, bekaise some blackhearted cowardly villain +among you has a pick (pique) against him, and some of you for +half-a-crown or a bellyful of whisky would murdher him in could blood. +Begone, or by the livin' Farmer, I'll scatter the contents of this +blunderbush among you.' He that wishes to have M'Carthy done for was wid +us himself, and tould us in Irish to fire at the windy, which we did, +and on the instant slop came a shower of bullets among us. A boy from +the Esker got one of them through the brain, and fell stone dead; two +others--we can't mention names--was wounded, and it was well we got +them off safe. So there's our night's work for us. Howaniver, the day's +comin' when we'll pay them for all.” + +“I think, boys,” said a person, whose voice was evidently that of a man +advanced in years, “I think you ought to give this procthor Purcel a +cardin'. He lifts the tithes of four parishes, and so far he's a scourge +over four parishes; himself and his blasted citations to the bishop's +court and his blasted decrees--hell purshue him, as it will. Ah, the +Carders wor fine fellows, so were the Sextons.” + +“Bravo, Billy Bradly, conshumin' to me but I'm--I'm main proud, and that +we met you com--omin' from the wake to-night; I am, upon my sow--owl.” + +“I believe, Billy,” said another voice, “you had your own fun wid +procthors in your day.” + +“Before the union--hell bellows it for a union---but it has been a black +sight to the counthry! Amin this night--before the union, it's we that +did handle the procthors in style; it isn't a cowardly threatenin' +notice we'd send them, and end there. No--but I'll tell you what we +done one night, in them days. There was a man, a procthor, an' he was +a Catholic too, for I needn't tell you, boys, that there never was a +Protestant procthor half as hard and cruel as one of our own ralligion, +an' thas well known. Well, there was this procthor I'm tellin' of, his +name was Callaghan; he was a dark-haired I'll-lookin' fellow, with +a squint and a stutther; but for all that, he had a daicent, +quiet, well-behaved family that offended nobody--not like our proud +horsewhippin' neighbors; an', indeed, his daughters did not mount their +side-saddles like some of the same neighbors, but sure we all know the +ould proverb, set a beggar on horseback, and we needn't tell you where +he'll ride to. Well, I'm forgettin' my story in the mane time. At that +time, a party of about sixty of us made up our minds to pay Callaghan a +nightly visit. The man, you see, made no distinction betune the rich +and poor, or rather he made every distinction, for he was all bows and +scrapes to the rich, and all whip and fagot to the poor. Ah, he was +a sore blisther to that part of the counthry he lived in, and many a +widow's an' orphan's curse he had. At any rate, to make a long story +short, we went a set of us, a few nights afore we called upon him--that +is, in a friendly way, for we had no intention of takin' his life, +but merely to tickle him into good humor a bit, and to make him have a +little feelin' for the poor, that he many a time tickled an' got tickled +by the sogar's bagnet to some purpose; we went, I say, to a lonely +place, and we dug sich a grave as we thought might fit him, and havin' +buttoned and lined it well with thorns, we then left it covered over +with scraws for fraid anybody might find it out. So far so good. At last +the appointed night came, and we called upon him. + +“'Is Mr. Callaghan in?' said one of us, knockin' at the door. + +“'What's your business wid him?' said a servant girl, as she opened the +door. + +“'Tis to pay some tithe I want,' says the man; and no sooner was the +word out of his mouth than in we boulted betther than a score of us; for +the rest all stayed about the place to act accordin' to circumstances. + +“'How do you do, Misther Callaghan?' says our captain, 'I hope you're +well, sir,' says he, 'and in good health.'” + +“'I can't say I am, sir,” said Callaghan, 'I haven't been to say at all +well for the last few days, wid a pain down my back.' + +“'Ah, indeed no wondher, Mr. Callaghan,' says the other; 'that's the +curse of the widows and orphans, and the poor in general, that you have +oppressed in ordher to keep up a fat an' greedy establishment,' says he, +'but in the mane time, keep a good heart--we're friends of yours, and +wishes you well; and if the curses have come down hot and heavy on your +back, we'll take them off it,' says he, 'so aisily and purtily, that if +you'll only shut your eyes, you'll think yourself in another world--I +mane of coorse the world you'll go to,' says he;--'we have got a few +nice and aisy machines here, for ticklin' sich procthors, in ordher to +laugh them into health again, and we'll now set you to rights' at wanst. +Comes, boys,' says he, turnin' to us, 'tie every sowl in the house, +barrin' the poor sick procthor that we all feel for, bekaise you see, +Misther Callaghan, in ordher to do the thing complate, we intind to have +your own family spectawthers of the cure.' + +“'No,' said one of them, a determined man he was, 'that wasn't in our +agreement, nor it isn't in our hearts, to trate the innocent like the +guilty.'” + +“'It must be done,' said the captain. + +“'No,' said the other back to him, 'the first man that mislists a hair +of one of his family's heads, I'll put the contents of this through +him--if this onmanly act had been mentioned before, you'd a' had few +here tonight along wid you.' + +“Well, sure enough, the most of us was wid the last speaker, so, instead +of cardin' the sick procthor before his own family, we tied and gagged +him so as that he neither spoke nor budged, and afther clappin' a guard +upon the family for an hour or two, we put him on horseback and brought +him up to where the grave was made. We then stripped him, and layin' him +across a ditch, we got the implements, of the feadhers as we call them, +to tickle him. Well, now, could you guess, boys, what these feadhers +was? I'll go bail you couldn't, so I may as well tell you at wanst; +divil resave the thing else, but half-a-dozen of the biggest tom-cats we +could get, and this is the way we used them. Two or three of us pitched +our hands well and the tails of the cats into the bargain, we then, as +I said, laid the naked procthor across a ditch, and began to draw the +tom-cats down the flesh of his back. God! how the unfortunate divil +quivered and writhed and turned--until the poor wake crature, that +at first had hardly the strength of a child, got, by the torture he +suffered, the strength of three men; for indeed, afther he broke the +cords that tied him, three, nor three more the back o' that, wasn't +sufficient to hould him. He got the gag out of his mouth, too, and then, +I declare to my Saviour his scrames was so awful that we got frightened, +for we couldn't but think that the voice was unnatural, an sich as no +man ever heard. We set to, however, and gagged and tied him agin, and +then we carded him--first down, then up, then across by one side, and +after that across by the other. * Well, when this was done, we tuk him +as aisily an' as purtily as we could. + +“D--n your soul, you ould ras--rascal,” said the person they called Ned, +“you wor--wor 'all a parcel o' bloody, d--n, hell--fi--fire cowardly +villains, to--to--thrat--ate any fellow crature--crature in sich a way. +Why didn't you shoo--shoo--oot him at wanst, an' not put--ut him through +hell's tor--tortures like that, you bloody-minded ould dog!” + +To tell the truth, many of them were shocked at the old carder's +narrative, but he only, grinned at them, and replied-- + +“Ay, shoot--you may talk about shootin,' Ned, avick, but for all that +life's sweet.” + +“Get on--out, you ould sinner o' perdition--to blazes wid you; life's +sweet you ould 'shandina--what a purty--urty way you tuk of sweetenin' +it for him. I tell--ell you, Bil--lilly Bradly, that you'll never die on +your bed for that night's wo--ork.” + +“And even if I don't, Ned, you won't have my account to answer for.” + +“An' mighty glad I am of it: my own--own's bad enough, God knows, an' +for the mat--matther o' that--here's God pardon us all, barrin' that +ould cardin' sinner--amin, acheerna villish, this night! Boys, I'll +sing-yes a song.” + +“Aisy, Ned,” said one or two of them, “bad as it was, let us hear Billy +Bradly's story out.” + +“Well,” proceeded Billy, “when the ticklin' was over, we took the scraws +off of the grave, lined wid thorns as it was, and laid the procthor, +naked and bleedin'--scarified into gris-kins--” + +“Let me at--at him, the ould cardin' mur--urdherer; plain murdher's +daicency compared to that. Don't hould me, Dick; if I was sworn ten +times over, I'll bate the divil's taptoo on his ould carkage.” + +“Be aisy, Ned--be aisy now, don't disturb the company--sure you wouldn't +rise your hand to an ould man like Billy Bradly. Be quiet.” + +--“Scarified into griskins as he was,” proceeded Bradly looking at Ned +with a grin of contempt--“ay, indeed, snug and cosily we laid him in +his bed of feadhers, and covered him wid thin scraws for fear he'd catch +could--he! he! he! That's the way we treated the procthors in our day. I +think I desarve a drink now!” + +Drinking was now resumed with more vigor, and the proceedings of the +night were once more discussed. + +“It was a badly-managed business every way,” said one of them, +“especially to let M'Carthy escape; however, we'll see him 'igain, +and if we can jist lay our eyes upon him in some quiet place, it'll +be enough;--what's to be done wid this body till mornin.' It can't be +lyin' upon the chairs here all might.” + +M'Carthy, we need scarcely assure our readers, did not suffer all this +time to pass without making an effort to escape. This, however, was a +matter of dreadful danger, as the circumstances of the case stood. In +the first place, as we have already said, the door between the room +in which he lay and that in which the Whiteboys sat, was open, and the +light of the candles shone so strongly into it, that it was next to an +impossibility for him to cross over to the window without being seen; in +the second place, the joints of the beds were so loose and rickety that, +on the slightest motion of its Occupant, it creaked and shrieked so +loud, that any attempt to rise off it must necessarily have discovered +him. + +“We must do something with the body of this unlucky boy,” continued the +speaker; “divil resave you, M'Carthy, it was on your account he came to +this fate; blessed man, if we could only catch him!” + +“Here, Dick, you and Jemmy there, and Art, come and let us bring him +into the bed' in the next room--it's a fitter and more properer place +for him than lyin' upon chairs here. God be merciful to you, poor Lanty, +it's little you expected this when you came out to-night! Take up the +candles two more of you, and go before us: here--steady now; mother +of heaven, how stiff and heavy he has got in so short a time--and his +family! what will they say? Hell resave you, M'Carthy, I say agin! I'm +but a poor man, and I wouldn't begrudge a five-pound note to get widin +shot of you, wherever you are.” + +It would be idle to attempt anything like a description of M'Carthy's +feelings, upon such an occasion as this. It is sufficient to say, that +he almost gave himself up for lost, and began to believe, for the first +time in his life, that there is such a thing as fate. Here had his life +been already saved once to-night, but scarcely had he escaped when he is +met by a person evidently disguised, but by whose language he is all +but made certain that he is a man full of mystery, and who besides has +expressed strong enmity against him. This person, with a case of +pistols in his breast, compels him, as it were, to put himself under his +protection; and he conducts him into a remote isolated shebeen-house, +where, no doubt, there is a meeting of Whiteboys every night in the +week. The M'Carthy spirit is, proverbially, brave and intrepid, but we +are bound to say, that notwithstanding its hereditary intrepidity, our +young friend would have given the wealth of Europe to have found himself +at that moment one single mile away from the bed on which he lay. His +best policy was now to affect sleep, and he did so with an apparent +reality borrowed from desperation. + +“Hallo!” exclaimed those who bore the candle, on looking at the bed, +“who the devil and Jack Robinson have we got here? Aisy, boys--here's +some blessed clip or other fast asleep: lay down poor Lanty on the +ground till we see who this. Call Molly Cassidy; here, Molly, who the +dickens is this chap asleep?” + +Molly immediately made her appearance. + +“Troth I dunna who he is,” she replied; “he's some poor boy on his +keepin', about tithes, tha' _He_ brought here to-night.” + +“That's a cursed lie, Molly; wid' many respects to you, _He_ couldn't a' +been here to-night.” + +“Thank you, sir, whoever you are; but I tell you it's no lie; and he +was here, and left that boy wid me, desirin' me to let him come to no +injury, for that--” and this was an addition of her own, “there was +hundreds offered for the takin' of him.” + +“Why, what did he do, did you hear?” + +“He whispered to me,” she replied, in a low voice, but loud enough for +M'Carthy to hear, “that he shot a tithe-proctor.” + +“We'll see what he's made of, though,” said one of them; “and, at all +events, we'd act very shabbily if we didn't give him a share af what's +goin'; but aisy, boys,” he added, “take care--ay! aisy, I say, safe's +the word; who knows but he's a spy in disguise, and, in that case, we'll +have a different card to play. Hallo! neighbor,” he exclaimed, giving +M'Carthy a shove, who started up and looked about him with admirable +tact. + +“What--what--eh--what's this? who are you all? what are you about?” + he asked, and as he spoke, he sprung to his feet. “What's this?” he +exclaimed again. “Sweet Jasus! is this Fagan the tithe-proctor that I +shot? eh--or are you--stay--no--ah, no--not the polis. Oh, Lord, but +I'm relieved; I thought you were polis, but I see by your faces that I'm +safe, at last--I hope so.” + +“Ay, to be sure, you're safe--safe--as--as the bank (hiccup). You're a +gintlemen, si--r you're a Con Roe--the ace o' hearts you are. Ay, you +shot--like a ma--an, and didn't card--ard him wid tomcats, and then put +the poo--oo--oor (hiccup) devil into a grave lined wid thorns; ah, you +cowardly ould villain! the devil, in the shape of a to--to--tom-cat +will card you in hell yet; an' moreover, you'll ne--never--ever die in +your bed, you hard-hearted ould scut o' blazes; an' that you may not, I +pray Ja--sa--sus this night--an' God forgive us all--amin, acheema!” + +“Hould your drunken tongue, Ned,” said he who seemed to assume authority +over them; “we want to put this poor boy, who died of liquor to-night, +into the bed, and I suppose you'll have no objection.” + +“None at all at all,” replied M'Carthy, assuming the brogue, at which, +fortunately for himself, he was an adept; “it's a good man's case, boys; +blood an' turf, give him a warm birth of it--he'll find it snug and +comfortable.” + +They then placed the corpse on the bed but changing their mind, they +raised him for a moment, putting him under the bedclothes, pinned a +stocking, about his head to give him a domestic look; after which they +returned to the tap-room of the shebeen-house, for such in fact it +was. The latter change in the position of the corpse was made from an +apprehension lest the police might come in search of the body, and with +the hope that he might pass for a person asleep. + +“You'll drink something wid us,” said the principal among them; “but, +before you do, I suppose you are as you ought to be.” + +M'Carthy, who really was in a frightful state of thirst, determined at +once to put on the reckless manner of a wild and impetuous Irishman, who +set all law and established institutions at defiance. + +“You suppose I am as I ought to be,” he exclaimed, with a look of +contempt; “why, thin, I suppose so too: in the mane time, an' before you +bother me wid more gosther, I'd thank you to give me a drink o' whisky +and wather--for, to tell you the truth, blast me but I think there's a +confligration on a small scale goin' an inwardly; hurry, boys, or I'll +split. Ah, boys, if you but knew what I wint through the last three days +an' three nights.” + +“And what did you go through it all for?” asked the principal of them, +with something of distrust in his manner. + +“What did I go through it fwhor? fwhy, thin, fwhor the sake o' the +trewth--I'm a Gaaulway man, boys, and it isn't in Can-naught you'll +fwhind the man that's afeard to do fwhat's right: here's aaul your +healths, and that everything may soon be as it ought to be.” + +“Well,” said the other, “you are a Can-naught man sartainly, that's +clear from your tongue; but I want to axe you a question.' + +“Fwhy nat? it's but fair,--it's but fair, I say,--take that wit j'ou, +an' I'm the boy that will answer it, if I can, bekaise you know, or +maybe you don't--but it's a proverb we have in Cannaught wit us--that +a fool may ax a question that a wise man couldn't answer: well, what is +it?” + +“Who brought you here to-night?” + +“Who brought me here to-night? fwhy, thin, I'll tell you as much of it +as I like--_He_ did.” + +“Be japers it's a lie, beggin' your pardon, my worthy Cannaught man. +_He_ couldn't be here to-night. I know where he was the greater part +of the night, and the thing's impossible. I don't know you, but we must +know you--ay, and we will know you.” + +“Trath an' I must know you, thin, and that very soon,” replied M'Carthy. + +“Come into the next room, then,” said the other. + +“Anywhere you like,” he replied, “I'm wit you; but I'm not the boy to be +humbugged, or to bear your thricks upon thravellers.” + +“Now,” said the other, when they had got into the room where the corpse +lay, “shake hands.” + +They accordingly shook hands, and M'Carthy gave him the genuine grip, as +he had been taught it by the Whiteboy. + +“Right,” said the man, “for so far; now, what's the hour?” + +“Very near the right one.” + +“Isn't it come yet?” + +“The hour is come, but not the man.” + +“When will he come?” + +“He is within sight.” + +“It's all right; come in and take another dhrink,” said the man; “but +still, who brought you here? for I know _He_ couldn't.” + +M'Carthy replied, winking towards the kitchen, “Troth she'll tell you +that story; give me another drink o' fwhiskey and water. Oh, I'm hardly +able to sit up, I'm getthi' so drowsy. A wink o' sleep, I may say, +didn't crass my eye these three nights; an' I'd wish to stretch myself +beside the poor boy widin. I'm an my keepin', boys, and fwhin you know +that the law was at my heels fwhor the last foive weeks, you'll allow I +want rest: throth I must throw myself somewhere.” + +“Go in, then, poor fellow, and lie down,” said the same individual, who +acted as spokesman; “we know how you must feel, wid the hell-hounds of +the law affcher you: here, Jack, hould the candle for him, and help +him to move over poor Lanty to make room for him; and Mrs. Cassidy,” he +called m a louder voice, “bring us another bottle.” + +“Faith, to tell you the truth,” replied Jack, “I'd rather not; I don't +like to go near a dead body.” + +“Here,” said the person called Dick, “give me the candle: poor fellow! +it is rest you want, and God forbid we wouldn't do everything in our +power for you.” + +They then entered the apartment, and M'Carthy was about to lay himself +beside the corpse, when his companion tapped him significantly on +the shoulder, and, his finger on his lips pointed to the window and +immediately whispered in his ear: “I will leave the windy so that it will +open at wanst: three of us knows you, Mr. M'Carthy I will sing a song +when I go in again, which they will chorus; fly then, for it's hard to +say what might happen: the day is now breakin' and you might be known--in +that case I needn't tell you what your fate would be.” + +He then returned to his companion having carefully closed the door after +him so as to prevent, as much as possible the motions of M'Carthy from +being seen or heard. On rejoining them he observed “well, if ever a poor +boy was fairly broken down, and he is--throth he was no sooner, on the +bed than he was off; an' among ourselves, the sleep must be heavy on him +when he could close his eyes an' a dead man in the bed wid him.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIII.--Strange Faces--Dare-Devil O'Driscol Aroused + +We have already stated that the proctors daughters had relieved their +mother from the duty which, that kind-hearted woman had been in the +habit of imposing on herself we mean that of attending and relieving +the sick and indigent in her immediate neighborhood. On the morning in +question Juli Purcel, who, together with her sister, for some time past +been attending the bed of an interesting young female, to one of her +father's workmen, had got up at an early hour to visit her--scarcely +with a hope, it is true, that she would find the poor invalid alive. +Much to her satisfaction, however, she found her better, and with some +dawning prospects of ultimate recovery. She left with her mother the +means of procuring such comforts as she considered might be suitable to +her in the alternative of her convalescence, and had got more than home +when she felt startled for a by the appearance of a person who seemed +to have been engaged in some of these nightly outrages that were then so +numerous in the country. The person in question had just leaped from an +open breach in the hedge which bounded the right-hand side of the road +exactly opposite where she was passing. The stranger's appearance was +certainly calculated to excite terror, especially in a female; for +although he did not wear the shirt over his clothes, his face was so +deeply blackened that a single shade of his complexion could not be +recognized. We need not again assure our readers that Julia Purcel +possessed the characteristic firmness and courage of her family, but +notwithstanding this she felt somewhat alarmed at the appearance of a +lawless Whiteboy, who was at that moment most probably on his return +from the perpetration of some midnight atrocity. This alarm was +increased on seeing that the person in question approached her, as if +with some deliberate intent. + +[Illustration: PAGE 445-- Alarmed at the appearance of a lawless +Whiteboy] + +“Stand back, sir,” she exclaimed. “What can you mean by approaching me? +Keep your distance.” + +“Why, good God! my dear Julia, what means this? Do you not know me?” + +“Know you! No, sir,” she replied, “how could I know such a person?” + +She had unconsciously paused a moment when the Whiteboy, as she believed +him to be, first made his appearance, but now she pursued her way home, +the latter, however, accompanying her. + +“Why, my dear Julia, I am thunderstruck! What can I have done thus to +incur your displeasure?” + +“You are rude and impertinent, sir, to address me with such +unjustifiable familiarity. It is evident you know me, but I am yet +to learn how I could have formed an acquaintance with a person whose +blackened face indicates the nature of his last night's occupation.” + +The person she addressed suddenly put up his hand, and then looking +at his fingers, immediately disclosed a set of exceedingly white and +well-formed teeth, which disclosure was made by a grin that almost +immediately quavered off into a loud and hearty laugh. + +“Ah!” he exclaimed, on recovering his gravity, “it is no wonder, my dear +Julia, that you should not know me. Since I went out to shoot with Mogue +Moylan, yesterday morning, I have gone through many strange adventures.” + +“What!” she exclaimed, with evident symptoms of alarm and vexation, +“Frank M'Carthy!” and, as she spoke, the remarkable conversation which +she had had with Mogue Moylan, and the information he had given her with +respect to M'Carthy's connection with the Whiteboys, instantly flashed +upon her, accompanied now by a strong conviction of its truth. + +“Explain yourself, Mr. M'Carthy,” she exclaimed, in a tone of voice +which indicated anything but satisfaction. “How am I to account for this +unbecoming disguise, so much at variance with your habits of life and +education?--perhaps I should not say your habits of life--but certainly +with your education. Have you, too, been tempted to join this ferocious +conspiracy which is even now convulsing the country?” + +“No wonder you should ask, my dear Julia,” he replied; “but really the +incidents, which have caused me to appear as you see me, are so strange, +and yet so much in keeping with the spirit of the times, that I must +defer, until a more convenient opportunity a full account of them.” + +“Do so, sir,” she replied quickly; “allow yourself full time to give +the best possible explanation of your conduct. I probably have put the +question too abruptly; but, in the meantime, you will have the goodness, +either to go on before me, or to fall back, as I presume, you will grant +that it is neither delicate nor becoming for me, who wear no disguise +and am known, to be seen at such an hour holding conversation with a +Whiteboy.” + +The impropriety of the thing struck him at once, and he replied, “You +are right, Julia; but I perceive that something has given you offence; +if it be my appearance, I tell you that I can afford you a satisfactory +explanation. Proceed now--I shall remain here for a time;--whether with +black face or white, I should not wish it to be supposed that we held a +clandestine meeting at this hour.” + +She then bowed to him with more formality than she had probably ever +used, and proceeded home at a quicker pace. + +She had just turned an angle of the road, and got consequently out of +sight, when he heard a strong, but sweet and mellow voice singing the +fine old Irish song of the Cannie Soogah, or Jolly Pedlar; and, on +looking behind him, he perceived that worthy person approaching him at a +tolerably rapid pace. The pedlar had no sooner glanced at M'Carthy than +he grasped his tremendous cudgel with greater firmness, and putting +his hand into his breast, he pulled out a pistol, and with these +preparations approached our friend, still continuing his song, with the +same careless glee, and an utter absence of all fear. + + “'I' m the rantin' cannie soogah'-- + +“God save you, neighbor! you forgot to wash your face this mornin'.” + +“That's its natural color,” replied M'Carthy, willing, now that he +was out of all danger, to have a banter with his well-known friend the +pedlar. + +“If you take my advice then,” said the pedlar, “you'll paint it +white--it's a safer color in daylight at any rate. I'm thinkin' now, that +if you met a party of peelers on pathrole, they might give you a resate +for turnin' the same color red and white; however, _glunthoma_, (* Hear +me) if you have any design upon the Cannie Soogah, I can only tell you +that I never carry money about me, and even if I did, I have a couple +o' friends here that 'ud standby me; ay, in throth, three o' them, for +I have brother to this fellow (showing the pistol) asleep in my breast +here, and he doesn't like to be wakened, you persave; so whoever you +are, jog on and wash your face, as I said, and that's a friend's advice' +to you.” + +“Why, Cannie Soogah, is it possible you don't know me?” + +“Throth I've been just thinkin' that I heard the voice before, but when +or where is more than I can tell.” + +“Not know your friend Francis M'Carthy?” + +“Eh, Mr. Francis M'Carthy! and, Lord o' life, Mr. M'Carthy, how do +you come to have a black face? Surely you wouldn't belong to this +business--black business I may call it--that's goin'?” + +“Well, I should hope not, Cannie; but, for all that, you see me with a +black face--ha!--ha!--ha!” + +“I do indeed, Mr. Frank, and, between you and me, I'm sorry to see it.” + +“You will not be sorry to hear, however, that my black face saved my +life last night.” + +“Arra thin, how was that, sir, if it's a fair question?” + +M'Carthy then gave him a brief, and by no means a detailed account of +the danger he had passed. + +“Well,” said the other, “everything's clear enough when it's known; but, +as it's clear that you have enemies in the neighborhood, I think the +wisest thing you could do would be to lave it at wanst.” + +“Such, in fact, is my determination,” replied M'Carthy; “no man, I +believe, who is marked ought to remain in the country; that is, when he +has no local duties that demand his presence in it, as I have not.” + +“You are right, sir; start this very day if you're wise, and don't give +your enemies--since it appears that you have enemies--an opportunity of +doin' you an injury; if they missed you twice, it's not likely they will +a third time; but tell me, Mr. M'Carthy--hem--have you no suspicion as +to who they are?” + +“Not exactly; indeed I cannot say I have; the whole matter is shrouded +in the deepest mystery. I am not conscious of having offended or injured +any one, nor can I guess why my life should be sought after; but sought +after unquestionably it is, and that with an implacable resentment that +is utterly unaccountable.” + +“Well, then, Mr. Frank, listen:--I met about a dozen men--strangers they +wor to me, although their faces weren't blackened--not more than twenty +minutes ago; and one, o' them said to me, 'Cannie, every one knows' you, +and you know every one--do you know me?'” + +“'No,' says I; 'you have the advantage of me.' + +“'Do you know any one here?' says he again. + +“'Well, I can't say I do,' says I; 'you don't belong to this part of the +country.' + +“'If we did, Cannie,' said the spokesman, 'it isn't face to face, in the +open day, we'd spake to you.' + +“'An' what is it you have to say to me?' I axed; for, to tell you the +truth, I was beginnin' to get unaisy someway. + +“'Nothing to you; but we've been tould that you're well acquainted wid +Procthor Purcel, and that you know a young man, by name M'Carthy, that +stops for the present wid Mr. Magistrate O'Driscol.' + +“'I do,' says myself; 'I'll not deny but I know them all well--I mane in +the way o' business--for I call there often to sell my goods.' + +“'Well,' said the spokesman, 'will you give that letther,' handin' me +this, 'to Mr. M'Carthy?'” and as the pedlar spoke he placed the note +in M'Carthy's hands. “'Do so,' says the fellow, 'as soon as you can--if +possible, widout an hour's delay. It consarns himself and it consarns +me--can I depend on you to do this?' I said I would: and now there's the +letther---my message is delivered.” + +M'Carthy read as follows:--“Francis M'Carthy, as you regard the life of +the man that saved yours last night, you won't breathe a syllable about +seein' a young man's corpse last night in the shebeen-house, nor about +anything that happened to you in it, till you hear further from me. If +you're grateful, and a gintleman, you won't; but if you're a traitor, +you will. Your friend, as you act in this.” + +“Now, Mr. Frank,” said the, pedlar, “as you know the danger that's about +you, I say that unless you get out o' the counthry at wanst, you'll only +have a hand in your own death if anything happens. You're, goin' now, +I suppose, to Mr. Purcel's; if you are--if it wouldn't be +troublesome--jist say that the Cannie Soogah will call there in the +coorse o' the mornin' for breakfast.” + +He then turned off by a different road; and M'Carthy proceeded at, a +very slow pace towards the proctor's, which lay in a right line between +the house to which the White-boy had brought him and O'Driscol's. As +he reached the back yard, by which he intended to enter, anxious to get +himself washed before any of them should see him--he was met by Mogue, +who after a glance or two recognized him at once by his shooting-dress. + +“Why thin, good fortune to me, Misther Frank, is this you?” + +“It is, Mogue; but I have no time to speak to you now. Only get me soap +and a towel till I wash my face at the pump here. These are strange +times, Mogue, and that was a very suspicious place of refuge to which +you brought me; however, it will go hard or we shall make Mr. Frank +Finnerty speak out, and to some purpose too. Get me soap and towel +quick---I do not wish to be seen with this diabolical-looking face upon +me.” + +“That I may be blest, sir, but the same face surprises me. Wisha, then, +Mr. Frank, might one ax--” + +“No,” replied M'Carthy, “do as I have desired you--some other time you +may hear it, but not now.” + +At this moment, Mogue, who was very circumspect in all his looks as well +as in all his motions, saw by a side glance that Julia, on coming down +the stairs, saw M'Carthy--a circumstance which delighted his very +heart, inasmuch as he resolved to so manage it, that it might be made +to confirm the hint he had already thrown out against M'Carthy--if that +could be called a hint which was a broad and undisguised assertion. He +accordingly watched until an opportunity presented itself of addressing +her apart from listeners; and in the course of the morning, as she went +to look after some favorite flowers in the garden, he met her at the +gate. + +“Miss Julia,” said he, “I wish to spake one word to you, i' you plaise, +miss.” + +“Well, Mogue, what is it?” + +“You know what I tould you about poor Misther Frank last night; and what +I want to say, miss, is, that you aren't to put any trust in it; truth, +I believe I had a sup in--don't be guided by it--it was only jokin' +about him I was--that I may never do an ill turn but it was--now.” + +“You need make no apology about it, Mogue,” she replied; “I am not at +all interested in the matter; but I now know that you told me truth; +and as a friend and well-wisher of Mr. M'Carthy's, in common with all my +family, I am sorry to find it so.” + +“Oh, well now, miss, what will I do at all? wisha, but that's the way +wid me ever and always; when the little sup is in--and indeed it wasn't +much I tuck--the truth always come out--if it was the killin' of a man, +my heart always gets the betther of ma then.” + +“I saw him, Mogue, with his face blackened.” + +“Wisha, wisha, but I was a haythen to mention it at all. The truth is, +I like Mr. Frank--but then again, I don't like anything like desate, or +that carries two faces--only as you did see him, Miss Julia, if you're +loyal to me and won't turn traitor on me--you've but to wait for a +little, I'll be able to tell you more about the same foolish--I'd rather +say foolish for the sake of settin' a Christian pat-thern, than wicked +or traicherous--och, ay--for sure we all have our failins--howandiver +as I was sayin', I'll soon be able, I think, to tell you more about +him--things that will surprise you, miss, ay, and make the blood in your +veins run cowld. Only I say, if you wish to hear this, and to have it as +clearly proved to you as what I tould you last night, you musn't betray +me.” + +This was spoken in such an earnest, and at the same time in so simple +and candid a manner, that it was actually impossible to suspect for +a moment that there was falsehood or treachery intended. Nay,--his +pretended effort to undeceive her as to M'Carthy's connection with the +Whiteboys, was such a natural step after the drink which she supposed he +had taken on the preceding night, and when cool reflection had returned +to him, that she felt an indescribable curiosity--one attended with +pain and terror--to hear the full extent of her lover's perfidy. Beyond +all doubt, Moylan's treacherous adroitness, and the simplicity and piety +under which he contrived to veil his treachery and revenge, were perfect +in their way. As it was, he succeeded in banishing peace, and trust, and +cheerfulness, from the heart of generous and affectionate Julia Purcel. + +M'Carthy found the young men up, and after simply stating that the +previous night was one of danger and adventure, he said that he wished +to go to bed for a while, and that he would describe these adventures at +more length after he had refreshed himself by some sleep. This, indeed, +they perceived to be absolutely necessary, from his exhausted and pallid +look. He accordingly went to rest--and, sooth to say, the sense of +security, joined to his complete exhaustion, and the comforts of a warm +good bed, gave him such a perception of luxury as he had never conceived +before. In a few minutes he fell into a dreamless and unbroken trance. + +Breakfast was postponed an hour on his account; for as he had extorted +a promise from John Purcel, that he should either call him or have him +called when the time for that meal arrived, they did not wish to disturb +him so soon. In the meantime, there was many a conjecture as to the +cause of his absence, and as the fact of his black face could not +be concealed, there was consequently many an opinion given as to the +circumstances which occasioned that unexpected phenomenon. Julia did +not at all appear, but pleaded indisposition, and Alick had not yet +returned-from O'Driscol's, so there was only the proctor, his son John, +his wife, and Mary, to discuss the matter. At length, about half-past +ten M'Carthy made his appearance, and after the usual civilities of the +morning, he gave them a pretty clear, but not a very detailed account +of the dangers he had undergone. After a good deal of consideration, he +resolved, in accordance with the wish of his unknown friend, to suppress +all mention of the attack upon O'Driscol's house, and of the young man +who had been shot whilst it was going on. + +Breakfast had not been concluded, when the _Cannie Soogah_, who had +already got his hansel, as he called his breakfast, in the kitchen, made +his appearance at the parlor window, which was immediately thrown up. + +“God save all here,” he exclaimed, “long life and good health to every +one of you! Here I am, the rantin' Cannie Soogah, as large as life; and +upon my profits maybe a little larger if the truth was known.” + +“Cannie,” said the proctor, “dix me, but I'm glad to see you--and how +are you, man?--and do you carry your bones safe--or your head upon your +shoulders at all, durin' these wild times?” + +“Troth, and you may well say they're wild times, Mr. Purcel, and it'll +be wisdom in every one to keep themselves as safe as possible till they +mend. Is it thruth, sir, that you're makin' preparations to collect your +tides wid the help o' the sogers and polis?” + +“Perfectly thrue, Cannie; we'll let the rascals that are misleading the +people, as well as the people themselves, know whether they or the law +are the strongest. They cannot blame us for the consequence, for we're +forced to it.” + +“There will be bad work, thin, I'm afeard, sir; and bloody work, I +dread.” + +“That's not our fault, Cannie, but the fault of those who will wilfully +violate the law. However, let that pass, what's the news in the world?” + +“I suppose you hard, sir, that the house of your friend and neighbor, +that man that hears nothin'--” here there was the slightest perceptible +grin upon the pedlar's face--“was attacked last night?” + +“You don't mean O'Driscol's?” + +“Upon my profits, I do--an' nobody else's. + +“Hillo! do you hear this, girls? O'Driscol's house was attacked last +night!” + +“Heavenly father! I hope Alick is safe,” exclaimed Mrs. Purcel, getting +pale. + +“Well, Cannie,” inquired the proctor, quite coolly, and as if it was a +matter of mere business, “what was the consequence? I hope nobody was +hurt?” + +“Why, that his son Fergus, sir--that fine young man that everybody was +fond of--” + +“Good God!” exclaimed the proctor, now really shocked at what he +supposed the pedlar was about to say; “what is it you are goin' to tell +us? I hope in God--” + +“What is this!” exclaimed John; “heavens, Mary, you have spilled all the +tea!” + +“Mary, my child,” exclaimed the mother, running to her; “what ails +you?--in God's name, what is the matter?” + +“A sudden faintness,” replied the girl, recovering herself as if by an +effort; “but it is over, and I--I am better.” + +“His son Fergus, sir--I hope Miss Mary is betther, sir--that his son +Fergus and his father, by all accounts, gave them a warmer reception +than they expected.” + +“But was none of O'Driscol's family hurt nor anybody else?” asked +Purcel. + +“No, sir, it seems not--and indeed I'm main glad of it.” + +“D--n you, Cannie,” exclaimed the other, between jest and earnest, “why +did you give me such a start? You told the affair as if Fergus had been +shot--however, I'm glad that all's safe in O'Driscol's;--but about the +night-boys? Were there any lives lost among them?” + +“It's thought not, sir,” replied the pedlar. “They left the marks o' +blood behind them, but the general opinion is, that there was no life +lost; I hope there wasn't--for, indeed, I have such a hatred against the +shed-din' of blood, that I don't wish even to hear of it.” + +“What was their object, have you learned, in attacking O'Driscol's +place?” + +“Well, then, I didn't hear; but anyhow, they say that a new workin' boy +of O'Driscol's, that dogged them up beyant Darby Hourigan's, was wounded +by them, along with Darby himself, in regard, of his having joined the +young fellow in dodgin' afther them.” + +“Are they seriously hurt?” asked John. + +“Throth that's more than I can say, but I hope they're not, poor +fellows; at any rate, I'm sure Mr. O'Driscol will have them well taken +care of till they're recovered.” + +“Certainly,” observed the proctor, “if he thinks it his duty he will: my +friend O'Driscol will do what he conceives to be right.” + +The pedlar nodded significantly, and honored the observation with, a +broad grin. “Well, sir,” said he, changing the conversation, “he may do +for that as he likes, but I must look to number one. Come, ladies--and, +by the way, where's my favorite, Miss Julia--from you?” + +“She's not quite well this morning, Cannie,” said her mother; “she has a +slight headache, I believe.” + +“Well, Miss Mary, then? Any purchases to-day, Miss Mary?” + +“Not to-day, Cannie--the next time, perhaps.” + +“Cannie,” said Purcel, “you praised your razors very highly at your last +visit;--have you a good case this morning?” + +“Haven't I, sir? Wait till you see them.” + +He then produced a case, which the proctor purchased, and thus closed +his sales for that day. + +The pedlar, however, notwithstanding that his commercial transactions +had been concluded, seemed somehow in no hurry. On the contrary, he took +up his pack and exclaimed, “I must go back to the kitchen, till I see +what can be done there in the way of business; hearin' that you were +finishin' breakfast, I hurried up here to sell my goods and have my +chat.” + +“Very well, Cannie,” said the proctor, “try the folks below, and success +to you!” + +The pedlar once more sought the kitchen, where he lingered in fact more +like a man who seemed fatigued than otherwise, inasmuch as his eyes +occasionally closed, and his head nodded, in spite of him. He kept, +however, constantly watching and peeping into the yard and lawn from +time to time, as if he expected to see somebody. At length he got tip +and was about to go, when he said to Letty Lenehan:--“Ah, thin, Letty, +afore I go I'd give a trifle that Miss Julia 'ud see a bracelet I got +since I was here last; divil sich a beauty ever was seen.” + +“Very well, Cannie, I'll tell her if you wish.” + +“Then, Letty, may it rain honeycombs an you, an' do. I'll go round to +the hall-door, 'say, and she can look at them there; an' see, Letty, say +the sorra foot I'll go from the place till she sees it: that it'll be +worth her while; and that if she knew how I got it, she'd fly--if she +had wings--to get a glimpse of it.” + +He had not been more than a minute or two at the hall-door when Julia, +struck by the earnestness of the man's language, which lost nothing in +the transmission, made her appearance. + +“Well now, Cannie,” said she, “what wonderful matter is this you have +got to show me?” + +“Here it is, Miss Julia,” said he, in his usual jocular and somewhat +loud voice, “here it is, I'll have it in a minute--listed, Miss Julia,” + he added, in a solemn and impressive undertone: “what I'm goin' to +say is more to you than aither life or death. Don't go out by +yourself--don't go at all out early in the morning or late in the +evenin'.” + +“Why so, Cannie?” she asked. + +“Why, miss, it came to me by accident only; but the truth is there's a +plot laid, it seems, to carry you off to the mountains.” + +“By whom, Cannie?” + +“That's the very thing, miss, that I don't know; but a strange man met +me on my way here this mornin' and tould me that he was a friend to your +father--who was wanst a friend to him--and that, if I'd see you, to put +you on your guard against goin' either to the poor or sick at the hours +I spoke of; and he bid me say, too, that there's bad work and thraichery +about you--and by no manner o' means to go any distance from your +father's house--ay, thraichery, an from them you'd never think o' +suspectin' for it. Now, miss, keep this counsel to yourself, and +don't say it was I that tould you, but as you love a fair name and an +unblemished character, act upon it. Dang me,” he added, “but I had like +to forget--if any message--I was bid to tell you--should come from Widow +Lynch's, sayin' that her daughter's dyin' and wishes to see you, and +that it's afther dusk it'll come--if it does come--well, if any sich +message is sent to you, don't go--nor don't go for any message, no +matther what it is--hem--ahem--oh! here I have it at last miss,” he +exclaimed in his natural voice, “isn't that a beauty?” + +Julia got as pale as death for a moment, and then her brow became +crimson with indignation. In fact, she saw not his bracelet--nor heard +what he said in praise of it; but after a little time she said, “Thank +you, Cannie, most seriously do I thank you--and you may rest assured I +shall faithfully follow your advice.” + +“Do so, miss,” he replied, “so God bless you and take care of you! and +that's the worst the rantin Cannie Soogah wishes you.” + +Alick Purcel almost immediately joined the family in the parlor, to +whom he related a full and somewhat ludicrous account of the seige of +O'Driscol Castle, as he called it--or Nassau Lodge. As our readers, +however, are already aware of the principal particulars of that attack, +we shall only briefly recapitulate what they already know, and confine +ourselves to merely one portion of it, in which portion our doughty and +heroic friend, the magistrate, was most peculiarly concerned. + +“Having tested the martial magistrate's courage,” he proceeded, “by a +hint from Fergus, who was as much amused by it as I was, and finding +that it was of the oozing or Bob Acres quality, we resolved, on hearing +that the house was surrounded, to examine, and prime and load all the +fire-arms in the house, as the case demanded. Some had been already +loaded, but at all events we looked to them, and such as were uncharged +we loaded on the spot, and then threw ourselves on the bed without +undressing, in order that we might be ready for a surprise. Fergus +and I, after having lain awake for a considerable time, taking it for +granted that they had given up all intention of attacking the house, +at length fell into a kind of wakeful doze from which we were at once +aroused by a loud knocking at the hall-door. We quietly opened the +drawing-room windows, and in a firm tone demanded what they wanted, and +the answer was, that a friend of M'Carthy's wished very much to settle +an account with him. We replied he was not in the house, and that even +if he were, they should fight for him before they got him. We also told +them our opinion of their conduct, and said, that if they did not leave +the place, we would scatter the contents of a blunderbuss among them. I +should state that they knew my voice, and said that they didn't want +me then, but that my turn would come soon. When we had done speaking, +a strong mellow voice, which I'll swear was not strange to me, said +something to them in Irish, and the next moment the windows were +shivered with bullets. Fortunately, we kept ourselves out of their +range; but at all events, we had light enough to see them put their +fire-arms to their shoulders, and time enough to stand aside. We +returned the fire instantly, but whether with any fatal effect or not +we could not say. When the smoke cleared away they had disappeared, but +early this morning traces of blood were found on the spot. A servant of +O'Driscol's, named Phil Hart, says they received no injury, for that he +followed them at a distance up as far as Darby Hourigan's, near whose +door they fired a couple of shots. Darby, it appears, joined Hart, +having been aroused by the report of fire-arms; and both, on being +discovered on their track, were fired at and wounded. Hart says it is +his blood that is on the lawn, and perhaps it may be so, but I rather +think the fellows did not escape scot-free at any rate.” + +“But where,” asked John, “was the magistrate all this time?” + +“That's precisely what I am coming to,” replied Alick; “the fact was +that the martial magistrate, who, I believe in my soul, lay shivering +with terror on his bed the whole previous part of the night, on hearing +our dialogue with the Whiteboys, and the report of the fire-arms, +altogether disappeared, and it was not until two or three searches had +been made for him, that he was discovered squatted three double in the +coalhole. On hearing and recognizing our voices, he started up, and +commenced searching round him in the aforesaid coal-hole. 'Come, +sir!' he exclaimed, in a voice of most ludicrous swagger, 'come, you +scoundrel! I'll unkennel you--whoever may be afraid of you, I'm not--my +name's O'Driscol, sirra--Fitzgerald O'Driscol, commonly called for +brevity's sake, Fitzy O'Driscol--a name, sir, that ought to strike +terror into you--and if it didn't, it isn't here I'd be hunting you--out +with you now--surrendher, I say, or if you don't upon my honor and +conscience you're a dead man.' 'What's the matter, sir?' I asked--'in +Heaven's name, who have you there?' 'Who is in the coalhole, father?' +asked Fergus, with a face whose gravity showed wonderful strength +of muscle. 'Yes, gentlemen,' replied the magistrate 'heroes that you +are--riflemen from a window--upon my honor and conscience, I think +courage is like the philosopher's stone--here have I, while you +were popping like schoolboys out of the window, pursued their leader +single-handed into the coal-hole, for I'm sure he's in it, or if not, +he must have escaped some other way--d--n the villain, I hope he +hasn't escaped, at all events--here, lights, I say, and guard all the +passes--d--n it, let us do our business with proper discipline and +skill--fall back, Fergus--and you, John, advance--steady now--charge the +coal-hole, boys, and I'll lead you on to the danger.' Of course he was +half drunk, but at the same time he managed to conceal his cowardice +with considerable adroitness. I need not say that upon examining the +coal-hole, and every other possible place of concealment there was no +desperate leader found, nor any proof obtained that an entrance had +been effected at all. 'Well, come,' exclaimed O'Driscol, 'although the +villain has escaped, we managed the thing well--all of us--he must have +given me the slip from the kitchen and leaped out of a window. You acted +well, boys; and as I like true courage and resolution--ay, an' if you +like, downright desperation--being a bit of a dare-devil myself--I say +I will give you a glass of brandy-and-water each, and the intrepid old +veteran will take one himself. Ah! wait till my friend the Castle hears +of this exploit--upon my sowl and honor, it will be a feather in my +cap.' Fergus whispered to me, 'It ought to be a white one, then.' We +accordingly adjourned in the dining-room, where after having finished +a tumbler of brandy-and-water each, we at length went to bed, and thus +closed the seige of O'Driscol Castle.” + +Julia on hearing of this attack and its object, felt her mind involved +in doubt and embarrassment. She could not reconcile the desire of the +Whiteboys to injure M'Carthy, with the fact of his having, by his own +admission, spent the night among them. Or what if the attack was a mere +excuse to prevent any suspicion of his connection with them at all? She +knew not, and until she had arrived at some definite view of the matter, +she resolved to keep as much aloof from M'Carthy as she could possiby +do without exciting observation. In the course of the morning, however, +they met accidentally, and the short dialogue which took place between +her and him did not at all help to allay the suspicions with which her +mind was burdened and oppressed. + +“My dear Julia,” said he, “I see that you are offended with me, but +indeed you need not; I can give you a full and satisfactory explanation +of my black face, if that be the cause of offence.” + +“Some other time, Mr. M'Carthy, I may hear your explanation; but not +just now.” + +“I cannot bear your displeasure,” he added; “and you know it.” + +“I wish you had felt as anxious not to deserve it.” + +“I am unconscious of having deserved it--but hear me, dearest +Julia------” + +“Well, sir, I do.” + +“Do you not go to see Widow Lynch's poor sick daughter this evening?” + +“No, sir.” + +“No, sir, and well, sir--good heavens! what means this all?--I am +anxious, I say, to give you a full explanation, and if you would only +pay a visit this evening to the widow's, I could meet you and explain +everything.” + +The Cannie Soogah's warning here pressed upon her mind with peculiar +force. + +“But,” she replied, “I shall not go this evening.” + +“Well, will you say what evening you intend to go?” + +“No, sir,” she replied; “I don't intend to go in future, either morning +or evening. Good-bye, Mr. M'Carthy, some time must elapse before I can +listen to your explanation.” + +“Is this generous, Julia?” + +“I believe it is just, Frank. Ask your own conscience, whether you are +entitled to any confidence from me--good-bye.” + +And with these words, she tripped up to the drawing-room, where she +joined her mother and sister. + +M'Carthy, after having settled down from the tumult occasioned by these +cowardly and murderous attempts upon his life, could not help indulging +in the deepest indignation against the vile and unmanly systems of +secret confederation in crime, by which the country was infested and +disgraced; its industry marred, its morality debauched, and its love +of truth changed into the practice of dissimulation, falsehood, and +treachery. He accordingly determined, as far as in him lay, to penetrate +the mystery, and ascertain the danger by which he was surrounded, and if +possible, to punish his unmanly and ferocious enemies. He consequently +lodged informations against Frank Finnerty, for whose apprehension a +warrant was issued; but thanks to the kind services of his friend Mogue +Moylan, Finnerty was duly forewarned, and when our friend, the heroic +O'Driscol, armed to the teeth, and accompanied by as many police as +would have captured a whole village, arrived at and surrounded his +house, he found that the bird had flown, and left nothing but empty +walls behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV.--State of the Country + +--O'Driscol rivals Falstaff--Who Buck English was supposed to be. + + +M'Carthy, on finding that he had failed, in consequence of the +disappearance of Finnerty, in developing the system which nurtured such +cowardly and inhuman principles, now found it necessary, independent +of all threats uttered against him, to return to college in order to +prosecute his studies, and maintain the high position which he had +there obtained by honors already won, and the general brilliancy of his +answering. A kind of love-quarrel had taken place between himself and +Julia Purcel, which, as is frequently the case, prevented him on the one +side from giving, and her on the other, from receiving an explanation. +The consequence was that they separated, each laboring under that +yearning of the heart towards the other, which combines the most +delicious sensations connected with the passion--tenderness disguised +under an impression of offence, hope, uncertainty, and that awful anger +that is never to forgive or change, but which, in the meantime, is +furtively seeking for an opportunity to be reconciled, and vent its rage +in kisses and in tears. + +In the meantime, the state of the country was fast becoming such as +had seldom, or perhaps never been recollected by living man. The +confederation, conspiracy, opposition, rebellion, or what you will, had +risen to a gigantic height. In point of fact, it ought rather to have +been termed an unarmed insurrection. Passive resistance was the +order and the practice of the day. The people were instructed by the +agitators, or rather by the great agitator himself, to oppose the +laws without violating them; a piece of advice which involved an +impossibility in the first place, but which was as false in itself, +as replete with dishonesty and imposture, as it was deceitful and +treacherous to the poor people who were foolish and credulous enough to +be influenced by it. We are not now assailing the Whigs for the +reforms which they effected in the Irish establishment, because we most +cordially approve of them. Nay, more, we are unquestionably of opinion +that that reform was not only the boldest, the most brilliant, but the +most just and necessary act of policy, which they ever offered as a boon +to this country. But what we do blame them for is, that they should have +suffered themselves to be kept in such gross ignorance of the state of +the Irish church, as to allow its shocking and monstrous corruptions to +remain uncorrected so long; that they should have allowed themselves to +be baffled and imposed upon, and misled by the hypocritical howlings +and fictitious alarms of the old Tory party, who, whenever they felt the +slightest dread that the Irish Establishment would slip through their +fingers, filled heaven and earth with prophetic denunciations against +England, not forbearing to threaten the very throne itself with a +general alienation of Protestant attachment and allegiance, if any of +its worst and rottenest corruptions should be touched. No; the Whigs +should have known the state and condition of the Irish church from +clear and correct sources, and not have subjected the country to the +pernicious and degrading consequences of a turbulent agitation. What +is just in itself ought to be conceded to reason and utility, and not +withheld until violence and outrage seem to extort it; for this only +holds out a bounty to future agitation. Be this as it may, the whole +country, at the period of which we write, was in a state of general +commotion and tumult altogether unparalleled. Law was completely +paralyzed, set at defiance, and laughed at. Large bodies, consisting of +many thousands, traversed different parts of the country in open day, +swearing every one they met to resist the payment of tithes in every +way and in every sense. Many gentlemen, who had either paid it or been +suspected to do so, or who had been otherwise obnoxious as landlords, +or for strong party feeling, were visited by these licentious multitudes +with an intention of being put to death, whilst the houses of several +wealthy farmers, who had unfortunately paid the hated impost, were +wrecked in the face of day. Nor was this all: men were openly and +publicly marked for destruction, and negotiations for their murder +entered into in fairs, and markets, and houses of entertainment, without +either fear or disguise. In such a state of things, it is unnecessary to +say that many lives were taken, and that great outrages were from +time to time committed. Two or three clergymen were murdered, several +tithe-proctors or collectors of tithe were beaten nearly to death; +and to such a pitch did the opposition rise, that at length it became +impossible to find any one hardy and intrepid, or, in other words, mad +enough, to collect tithe, unless under the protection either of the +military or police. Our friends, Proctor Purcel and his sons, were now +obliged, not merely to travel armed, but frequently under the escort of +police. Their principal dread, however, was from an attack upon their +premises at night; and, as fearful threats were held out that such an +attack would be made, Purcel, who, as the reader knows, was a man of +great wealth, engaged men to build a strong and high wall about his +house and out-offices, which could now be got at only through a gate of +immense strength, covered with thick sheet-iron, and bound together by +bars of the same metal, in such a way that even the influence of fire +could not destroy it, or enable an enemy to enter. + +With such a condition of society before us, it is scarcely necessary to +inform our readers that the privations of the Protestant clergy were not +only great, but dreadful and without precedent. It was not merely that +their style of living was lowered or changed for the worse, but that +they suffered distress of the severest description--want, destitution, +and hunger, in their worst forms. First came inconvenience from a delay +in the receipt of their incomes; then the necessity of asking for a +longer term of credit; after this the melancholy certainty that tithes +would not be paid; again followed the pressure from creditors for +payment, with its distracting and harassing importunities; then the +civil but firm refusal to supply the necessaries of life on further +credit; then again the application to friends, until either the +inclination or ability failed, and benevolence itself was exhausted. +After this came the disposal of books, furniture, and apparel; and, when +these failed, the secret grapple with destitution, the broken spirit, +the want of food--famine, hunger, disease, and, in some cases, death +itself. These great sufferings of a class who, at all events, were +educated gentlemen, did not occur without exciting, on their behalf, +deep and general sympathy from all classes. In their prosperity, the +clergy, as a body, raised and spent their income in the country. They +had been kind and charitable to the poor, and their wives and daughters +had often been ministering angels to those who were neglected by the +landlords or gentry of the neighborhood, their natural protectors. It +is true, an insurrection exhibiting the manifestation of a general and +hostile principle against the source of their support, had spread over +the country; but, notwithstanding its force and violence, the good that +they had done was not forgotten to them in the hour of their trials and +their sorrows. Many a man, for instance, whose voice was loud in the +party procession, and from whose lips the shout of “down with the +blood-stained tithe!” issued with equal fervor and sincerity, was often +known to steal, at the risk of his very life, in the dead hour of night, +to the house of, the starving parson and his worn family, and with +blackened face, that he might not by any possibility be known, pay the +very tithes for whose abolition he was willing to peril his life. Nay, +what is more, the priest himself--the actual living idolatrous priest, +the benighted minister of the Scarlet Lady, has often been known +to bring, upon his own broad and sturdy shoulders, that relief in +substantial food which has saved the lives of more than one of those +ungodly parsons, who had fattened upon a heretic church, and were the +corrupted supporters of the mammon of unrighteousness. Here, in fact, +was the popish, bigoted priest--the believer in transubstantiation, the +denouncer of political enemies, the advocate of exclusive salvation, +the fosterer of pious frauds, the “surpliced ruffian,” as he has been +called, and heaven knows what besides, stealing out at night, +loaded like a mule, with provisions for the heretical parson and his +family--for the Bible-man, the convent-hunter, the seeker after filthy +lucre, and the black slug who devoured one-tenth of the husbandman's +labors. Such, in fact, was the case in numberless instances, where the +very priest himself durst not with safety render open assistance to his +ecclesiastical enemy, the parson. + +In this combination against tithe, it is to be observed, that, as in +all other agitations, whether the object be good or otherwise, those +who took a principal part among the people in the rural districts were +seldom any other than the worst and most unprincipled spirits--reckless +ruffians and desperate vagabonds, without any sense of either religious +or moral obligation to restrain them from the commission of outrage. +It is those men, unfortunately, who, possessed of strong and licentious +energies, and always the most active and contaminating in every +agitation that takes place among us, and who, influenced by neither +shame nor fear, and regardless of consequences, impress their +disgraceful character upon the country at large, and occasion the great +body of society to suffer the reproach of that crime and violence which, +after all, only comparatively a few commit. + +Our friend the proctor, we have already stated, had collected the tithes +of three or four parishes; and it is unnecessary, therefore, to say, +that the hostility against him was spread over a wide and populous +district. This was by no means the case with O'Driscol, who was much +more the object of amusement to the people than of enmity. The mask of +bluster, and the cowardly visage it covered, were equally well known +in the neighborhood; and as the Irish possess a quick and almost +instinctive perception of character, especially among their superiors, +we need scarcely say that they played off, on more than one occasion, +many ludicrous pranks at his expense. He was certainly a man of great +importance, at least in his own opinion, or if he did understand +himself, he wished, at all events, to be considered so in the eyes of +others. He possessed, however, much more cunning than any one would feel +inclined to attribute to him, and powers of flattery that were rarely +ever equalled. He was, in fact, one of the few men who could administer +that nauseating dose, without permitting the person who received it to +become sensible that he did so. He had scraped together some wealth by +the good oldsystem of jobbing--had got himself placed upon the Grand +Panel of the county,' and ultimately, by some corrupt influence at +an election, contrived to have the merit of returning the government +candidate, a service which procured him a magistracy. O'Driscol was very +fond of magnifying trifles, and bestowing, a character of importance +upon matters that were of the utmost insignificance. For instance, if +a poor decrepit devil, starving in a hut, and surrounded by destitution +and beggary, were to be arrested for some petty misdemeanor, he would +mount his horse with vast pomp, and proceed at the head of twelve or +eighteen armed policemen to make his caption. But, on the +contrary, whenever any desperate and intrepid character was to be +apprehended--some of those fellows like the notorious Ryan (Puck), who +always carried a case of pistols or a blunderbuss about them, or perhaps +both---our valiant magistrate was either out of the way or had a visit +from the gout--a complaint which he was very fond of parading, because +it is one of aristocratic pretensions, but one, of which, we are +honestly bound to say, he had never experienced a single twitch. + +We have already stated that he had received a threatening notice, and +attempted to describe the state of conflicting emotions into which it +threw him. We forgot to state, however, that he had before received +several other anonymous communications of a somewhat more friendly +stamp; the difference between them being the simple fact, that the one +in question was read, and the others of his own composition. + +The latter were indeed all remarkable for containing one characteristic +feature, which consisted in a solemn but friendly warning that if he +(the magistrate) were caught at a particular place, upon a particular +day, it might be attended with dangerous consequences to himself. +Our magistrate, however, was not a man to be frightened by such +communications; no,--He was well known in the neighborhood, and he would +let the cowardly scoundrels feel what a determined man could be. He +thought his daredevil character had been sufficiently known; but +since it seemed that it was not, he would teach them a lesson of +intrepidity--the scoundrels. His practice was, on such occasions, to get +a case of pistols, mount his horse, and, in defiance to all entreaty to +the contrary, proceed to the place of danger, which he rode past, +and examined with an air of pompous heroism that was ludicrous in the +extreme. + +One morning, about this time, he sat at breakfast, reading the +Potwollopers' Gazette, or the No-Popery Advocate, when, as usual, he +laid it down, and pushing it over to Fergus, he resumed his toast and +butter. + +“Well, now,” said he, upon my honor and conscience, it is extraordinary +how these matters creep into the papers. At all events, Fergus, my +friend the Castle will persaive what kind of stuff it's best supporters +consist of.” + +“Very appropriate, sir,” replied Fergus--“stuff is an excellent word.” + +“And why is it an excellent word, Fergy?” + +“It is so significant, sir, as an illustration?” + +“Well, I dare say it is,” returned the father; “don't we say of a game +man, such a fellow has good stuff in him? but, setting that aside, do +look at the paragraph about that attack! My friend Swiggerly has done me +full justice. Upon my word, it is extramely gratifying, and especially +in such critical times as these, read it for Kate there, will you?” + +“What is it, papa?” + +“An account, my dear, of the attack made upon us, and of--but Fergus +will read it out for you.” + +Fergus accordingly read as follows:-- + +EXTRAORDINARY COURAGE AND INTREPIDITY--SEVERAL HUNDRED WHITEBOYS MOST +SPIRITLY REPULSED--FITZGERALD O'DRISCOL, ESQ. J. P. + +“On the night of the 24th ultimo, the house of this most active and +resolute magistrate was attacked by a numerous band of ruffianly +Whiteboys, amounting to several hundreds--who, in defiance of his +well-known resolution, and forgetting the state of admirable preparation +and defence in which he always maintains his dwelling-house, surrounded +it with the intention, evidently, of visiting upon him the consequences +of his extraordinary efforts at preserving the peace of the country, +and bringing offenders to justice. The exact particulars of this fearful +conflict have not reached us, but we may, without offence, we trust, to +the modesty of Mr. O'Driscol, venture to give a general outline of the +circumstances, as far as we have heard them. About two o'clock, on the +morning alluded to, and while the whole family were asleep, an attempt +was made to break open the hall-door. This, however, having been heavily +chained, barred, and bolted, and the keys removed to Mr. O'Driscol's +sleeping-room, resisted all attempts of the Whiteboys to enter--a +circumstance which filled them with fury and indignation. In a moment +the family were alarmed, and up. On that night it so happened that Mr. +Alick Purcel, a friend and neighbor of Mr. O'Driscol's, happened to be +staying with them, and almost immediately Mr. O'Driscol, placing the +two young men in something like a steady military position, led them +on personally, in the most intrepid manner, to a position behind the +shutters. From this place the fire of the enemy was returned for a +considerable time with equal bravery, and, it is presumed, effect, +as the grounds about the hall-door were found the next morning to be +stained with blood in several places. Tho heroism of the night, however, +is yet to be related. Mr. O'Driscol, who was certainly supported by his +son and Mr. Purcel in a most able and effective manner, hearing a low, +cautious noise in the back part of the house, went to reconnoitre, just +in time to grapple with the leader of these villains--a most desperate +and ferocious character-cruel, fearless, and of immense personal +strength. He must have got in by some unaccountable means not yet +discovered, with the hope, of course, of admitting his accomplices from +without. A terrific struggle now ensued, which terminated by the fellow, +on finding, we presume, the mettle of the person opposed to him, flying +down stairs towards the kitchen, and from thence, as Mr. O'Driscol +thought, to the coal-hole, whether he fearlessly pursued him, but in +vain. On examining the coal-hole, which Mr. O'Driscol did personally in +the dark--we really shudder at that gentleman's absence of all fear--the +ferocious Whiteboy could not be found in it. The presumption is that he +gave Mr. O'Driscol the slip during pursuit, doubled back, and escaped +from the lobby window, which, on examination, was found open. On this +almost unprecedented act of bravery it is useless to indulge in comment, +especially as we are restrained by regard for Mr. O'Driscol's personal +feelings and well-known modesty on this peculiar subject. His worthy +son, we are aware, inherits his father's courage.” + +“The devil I do!” exclaimed Fergus; “ha! ha! ha! Faith, I'm braver than +I had given myself credit for.” + +“And we are glad to hear that the present government, sensible of their +obligations to Fitzgerald O'Driscol, Esq., are about to confer the +office of Stipendiary Magistrate upon his son. We are, indeed, glad to +hear this; the office cannot possibly be better bestowed; and thus, so +far as relates to his father, at least, may valuable public services in +critical times be ever appropriately rewarded!” + +“Well, Fergy, what do you think of our friend Swiggerly now?” + +“In God's name, sir, what does all this rigmarole, in which there is +scarcely a word of truth, mean?” + +“Mane! why it manes, sir, that I am anxious to get you a Stipendiary +Magistracy.” + +“A Stipendiary Magistracy, father, if you wish and if you can; but not +by such means as this--it is shameful, father, indeed it is.” + +“I tell you, Fergus, that unless a man plays a game in this world, he +has little business in it. Manes! Why, what objections can you have to +the manes? A bit of a harmless paragraph that contains very little more +than the truth. I tell you that I threw it out as a hint to my friend +the Castle, and I hope it will act on it, that's all.” + +“Well, well,” exclaimed the son, laughing, “take care you don't overdo +the business; for my own part, I wish to obtain a magistracy only by +honorable means;--that is, since you have put the matter into my head, +for until last week I never once thought of it.” + +“Neither did I until a couple of weeks ago; and between you and me, +Fergus, the country's in a devil of a state--a very trying one for +Stipendiaries,” replied his father; “but it struck me that I am myself +rather advanced in years for such an appointment, and, in the meantime, +that something of the kind might be in your way, and it is for this +rason that I am feeling the pulse of my friend the Castle.” + +“But I am too young, sir, for such an appointment.” + +“Not at all, you blockhead; although you get a magistracy in the +paragraph, you don't imagine, I expect, you should get one directly. +No, no; there are gradations in all things. For instance, now,--first +a Chief Constableship of Police; next, a County Inspectorship; and +thirdly, a Stipendiary Magistracy. It is aisy to run you through the +two first in ordher to plant you in the third--eh? As for me I'm +snug enough, unless they should make me a commissioner, of excise or +something of that sort, that would not call me out upon active duty but, +at all events, there's nothing like having one's eye to business, and +being on the lookout for an opportunity.” + +“You know, father,” observed Fergus, “I don't now nor ever did approve +of the system, or principle you pursue in these matters, and as I +will not join you in them, I can only say if I do receive a government +appointment, I shall not owe it to anything personally unbecoming +myself.” + +“Ah, you're young and green yet, Fergus, but time and expariance will, +open your eyes to your own interests, and you'll live to acknowledge the +folly of having scruples with the world--ay will you.” + +“It may be so, sir; but I thank God the time you speak of has not come +yet.” + +“Well,” continued his father, “now that we have talked over that matter, +read this;”,and, as he spoke, he handed Fergus a notice, evidently a +friendly one, to the following; effect-- + +“Hunda. + +“Mr. O'Driscol.--It's said that ye're to goto Lisnagola on Shoosda next. +Now I tel ye there's a set upon yer life--don't go on that day, or it'll +bee worser for ye--any way don't pass Philpot's corner betuxt 2 and fore +o'cluck. + +“A FRIEND THAT YEW WANST SAVED.” + +“What do you think of that, Fergus?” + +“Why, sir, it's a proof that you have friends among these turbulent +people. I hope you don't intend going to Lisnagola on that day; by the +way it must mean this day, for this is Tuesday, and the note or notice, +or whatever you call it, is dated on Sunday, I perceive. I trust you +don't intend to to-day, sir, and expose yourself. + +“I shall certainly go, sir,” replied his father, rising up quite +indignantly. “What do you think I am? Do you think, sir, that +I--Fitzgerald O'Driscol, am the man to be intimidated by blood-thirsty +dogs like these? No, sir. I shall, at the proper time, arm myself, mount +my good horse and ride, calm as a milestone, past the very spot. D--n +the rascals! do they think to terrify me?” + +“If the author of that letter does,” replied Fergus, “he is most +certainly mistaken;” and as he said so he looked significantly at his +sister, who smiled as one would who thoroughly understood the matter. + +Just at that moment, Alick Purcel was seen approaching the hall-door, +and in a few minutes he joined them. + +“Well, Alick,” said the magistrate, “all well at Longshot Lodge--all +safe and sound for so far?” + +“All well, sir, thank you, and safe and sound for so far.” + +“Do you know what I think, Alick?” + +“No, sir.” + +“Upon my honor and conscience I am of opinion, that it's something in +your favor to live so near to me. I act as a kind of protection for you, +Alick. I am morally convinced, ay, and have good raison to know it +from more than one quarther, that your father's house would have +been attacked long since, if it were not for the near neighborhood of +dare-devil O'Driscol. And yet these fellows like courage, Alick; for +instance, read that warning. There you see is a plot laid for my life; +but I'll show the villains that they have the wrong sow by the ear. I +have showed them as much before, and will show them as much again.” + +He then handed the note, with an air of triumph, to Alick, who read it +over and assumed a look of great terror. + +“Of course you will be guided by this, Mr. O'Driscol.” + +“Of course I will not, Mr. Purcel; not a bit of it. I will ride--armed, +of course--past Philpot's corner this very day, at half-past three +o'clock; that is all I say.” + +“Well all I can say,” returned Alick, “is that you are a +fearfully-determined man, sir.” + +“I grant that, Alick, I know I am; but then it is in my nature. I was +born with it--I was born with it. Any news?” + +“Why not much, sir. That scoundrel, Buck English, has written to my +father, notwithstanding all that happened, to know if he will consent to +let Julia marry him. He says in his letter that, although he may be +put off with a refusal now, he will take good care that he shan't be +unsuccessful the next time he asks her.” + +“Does nobody, or can nobody find out how that scoundrel--” here the +valorous magistrate's voice sank as if instinctively, and he gave +a cautious glance about him at the same time, but seeing none but +themselves, present he resumed his courage--“how that, rascal finds +manes to cut the figure he-does?” + +“I believe not,” replied the other; “but for my part, I am often +disposed to look upon the man as mad; yet still the puzzle is to think +how he lives in such buck style--the vagabond. He certainly is involved +in some-mystery, for every one you meet or talk to is afraid of him.” + +“No, not every one, Alick; come, come, my boy, every general rule has an +exception; whisper--I could name you one who is not afraid of him”--and +this he said in a jocular tone--“I only wish,” he added, raising his +voice with more confidence, “that I could get my thumb upon him, I +would--” + +He was here interrupted by a loud but mellow voice, which rang +cheerfully with the following words:-- + +“I'm the rantin' Cannie Soogah.” + +“Ha! the Jolly Pedlar! Throw open the window, Fergus, till we have a +chat with him. Well, my rantin' Cannie Soogah, how are you?” + +“Faith, your honor, I'm jist betwixt and between, as they say--naither +betther nor worse, but mixed middlin', like the praties in harvest. +However, it's good to be any way at all in these times; so thank God my +head's on my body still.” + +“Cannie,” said Fergus, “we were just-talking of Buck English. Mr. Purcel +here-says that there's some mystery about him; for nobody knows how he +lives, and every one almost is afraid of him. My Father, however, denies +that every one is afraid of him.” + +“Buck English!” exclaimed the pedlar. “Mr. O'Driscol, darlin', what did +your honor say about him?” + +“Why, I--I--a-hem--I wished to have the pleasure, Cannie, +of--of--shaking hands, with the honest fellow; was not that it, Alick?” + +“Hands, or thumbs, or something that way,” replied Alick; “threatening +him, as it were.” + +“Shaking hands, upon honor, Alick--thumb to thumb, you know.” + +“Well, Mr. O'Driscol, you're well known! to have more o' the divil +than the man in you--beggin' your pardon, sir, for the freedoms, I'm +takin'--but it's all for your own good I'm doin' it. Have you e're a +mouse-hole about your place, sir?” + +“A-hem! Why, Cannie,” asked O'Driscol, with an expression of strong +alarm in his face--“why do you ask so--so--singular a question as that?” + +“Bekaise, sir, sooner than you should breathe--mind, breathe's the +word--one syllable against Buck English, I'd recommend you to go into +the mouse-hole I spoke of, and never show your face out of it agin. +I--an' everybody knows me, an' likes me, too, I hope--I meek--hem! +throth I do make it a point never to name him at all, barrin' when +I can't help it. Nobody knows anything about him, they say. By all +accounts, he never sleeps a week, or at any rate more than a week, in +the same place; an' whatever dress he has on comin' to any particular +part of the counthry, he never changes; but they say that if you find +him in any other part of the counthry, he has a different dress on him: +he has a dress, they say, for every part.” + +“He has honored my father,” said Alick, “by sending him a written +proposal for my sister Julia--ha! ha! ha!” + +“Well, now, did he, Mr. Alick?” + +“Yes; and he says that he may be refused now, but won't the next time he +asks her.” + +“Well, then, Mr. Alick, I'll tell you what I'd advise you to do: go +home, and tell your father to send for him, if he knows where to +find him, and let him not lose a day in marryin' her to him; for if +everything is thrue that's said of him, he was never known to break a +promise, whether it was for good or ill.” + +“Ha! ha! ha! thank you, Cannie,--excellent!” replied Alick. + +“Who can he be, Cannie?” asked Miss O'Driscol, “this person of such +wonderful mystery? I have never seen him, but I wish I could.” + +“Ay, have you, often--I'll engage, Miss.” + +“And so do I,” added her father; “I wish to see him also, and to have +everything mysterious cleared up.” + +“Well,” continued the pedlar, “I know nothing myself about him, only as +I hear; but if all's thrue that's said, he could give your father, and +you, Mr. Alick, lave to walk through the whole counthry in the hour of +noonday or midnight, widout a finger ever bein' raised against one o' +you; and as for you, Mr. O'Driscol, he could have the house pulled about +your ears in an hour's time, if he wished--ay, and he would, too, if he +heard that you spoke a harsh word of him.” + +“As for me, Cannie,” replied the magistrate, “I trust I'm a Christian +man, and not in the habit of abusing the absent. Indeed, I don't see +what right any one has to make impertinent inquiries into the life or +way of living of any respectable person--I do not see it, Cannie; and, I +assure you, I always set my face against such prying inquiries.” + +“I know, myself,” continued the pedlar, “that there's a great many +things said about him, an' people wishes to know who he is. Now I was +tould a thing wanst by a sartain parson--I won't say who, but I believe +it's not a thousand miles from the truth I'm spakin' about who he is.” + +“And who is he?” asked Fergus; “out with it Cannie.” + +“Well, then,” he proceeded, in a cautious and confidential whisper, +“it's said by them that ought to know, that he's an illaygal brother to +the Great Counsellor. There now, you have it.” + +“Is it to Counsellor O'Connell?” + +“Ay, to Counsellor O'Connell--divil a one else. He's as like him as two +pays, barrin' the color o' the hair. Sure the Counsellor puts every +one down that crosses him, and so does Buck English. Miss Katherine, +darlin,' won't you buy something? Here's the best of everything; don't +be afeard of high prices. My maxim always is--to buy dear and sell +chape, for the sake o' the fair sect. Come, gintlemen, Cannie +Soogah's pack is a faist for the leedies--hem--I mane a feest for the +ladies--hillo--ha! ha! ha! there's a touch of Buck English himself for +you. Well, of coorse, what's a faist for the ladies must surely be a +thrate to the gintlemen.” + +Alick here availed himself of M'Carthy's experience, and presented Miss +O'Driscol with a beautiful bracelet; O'Driscol and Fergus purchased some +pocket-handkerchiefs and other matters, and our Jolly Pedlar went on his +way rejoicing. + +Fergus O'Driscol who was a shrewd and keen observer, could perceive, +during the foregoing interview, that there was on the pedlar's +countenance an expression of grave, hard, solemn irony, which it was +difficult to notice, or having noticed it, to penetrate, or in any way +analyse or understand. To him it was a complete enigma, the solution of +which seized very strongly on his imagination, and set all his powers +of reasoning and investigation to work. All admitted there was a mystery +about Buck English; but Fergus felt a strong impression that there was +one equally impenetrable about the pedlar himself. Having little else, +however, than a passing thought, a fancy, on which to ground this +surmise, he prudently concealed it, from an apprehension of being +mistaken, and, consequently, of subjecting himself to ridicule. + +Fergus now brought Alick out to the garden, where they seemed to enjoy +a very merry dialogue if several fits of hearty laughter may be said to +constitute mirth; after this Alick went home; not, however, we should +say until he first contrived to enjoy a short _tete-a-tete_ with Miss +O'Driscol. + +When the hour for the departure of the magistrate to test the resolution +of the “men in buckram,” who had resolved upon his assassination, had +arrived, he most magnanimously got a double case of pistols, and in +spite of all remonstrance from both son and daughter, he mounted his +horse--Duke Schomberg--and in a most pompous and heroic spirit rode +forth to quell the latent foe. + +We have already stated that O'Driscol's real character was thoroughly +known by the country-folks around him, as the character of every such +person usually is. Whilst he proceeds, then, upon his daring and heroic +enterprise, we beg leave to state very briefly, that Fergus and Alick +Purcel, having laid their heads together, procured, each, two of their +father's laborers, whom they furnished material wherewith to blacken +their faces; not omitting four large cabbage-stalks, with the heads +attached, and kept under the right arm of each. These had been trimmed +and blackened also, in order to have more the appearance of fire-arms. +Thus armed, and with appropriate instructions, they planted themselves +inside the hedges which inclosed the narrow turn of the road at +Philpot's cornet, and awaited their “unsuspecting victim,” as the phrase +unhappily, and with too much truth, goes. + +O'Driscol, on approaching the fatal spot, regretted that there were no +eyes upon this extraordinary manifestation of courage. He stretched up +his neck and looked about him in all directions, with a hope that some +one might observe the firmness and utter absence of all fear with which +he came up to the place where the assassins were to lie in wait for +him. He had now come within ten or twelve yards of it when, such was the +force of his own cowardly imagination, that it had worked him up from a +fictitious into a real terror; and on approaching the spot, he could not +prevent himself from coughing pretty loudly, in order to ascertain that +there really was no such thing as ah assassin behind the hedges. He +coughed, we say, with a double case of pistols in his hand, when, heaven +and earth! was the cough responded to--and in a jarring style--from +behind the hedge to the right? He paused, pulled up his horse, and +coughed again, when it also was responded to from that on the left; and +at the same time four faces, dreadfully blackened, peeped, two on +each side of him, and levelling their black and dreadful-looking +blunderbusses--for they could be nothing else--were about to rid the +world of a loyal magistrate, and deprive the Castle of its best friend +and correspondent, when the latter gentleman, wheeling Duke Schomberg +round, put him to most inglorious flight, and scampered off at the top +of his speed. + +The jest was admirably managed; and nothing could exceed the unction +with which he related his encounter with the villains. In fact, upon +Falstaff's principle, he had discharged his pistols on the way home, +as a proof of the desperate contest he had had with the blood-thirsty +scoundrels. Like all his other exploits, however, it was added to the +catalogue of his daring conflicts with the Whiteboys, and, ere the lapse +of twenty-four hours, was in possession of “his friend the Castle.” + + + + +CHARTER XV.--Scene in a Parsonage--An Anti-Tithe Ringleader. + + +Hitherto we have described the tithe-agitation as one which was +externally general as well as deep-rooted; and so far we were perfectly +correct. Our readers, however, are not to understand by this that there +did not exist among the people--ay, and the priesthood too--a strong +under-current of sympathy for the sufferings of the protestant clergy. +The latter had indeed been now reduced to such privation as it is +pitiable even to look back upon. One-half the glebe-houses presented +such symptoms of cold nakedness and destitution, such a wrecked and +gutted appearance, as could scarcely be conceived at present. Hundreds +of their occupants had been obliged to part by degrees with all that +was valuable or could be turned into money. The elegant and accomplished +young female, hitherto accustomed to all the comforts and luxuries of +life, was now to be taught a lesson of suffering and endurance as severe +as it was unexpected. Many--many such lessons were taught, and we may +add--well and nobly, and with true Christian fortitude, were they borne. +We have already said that Purcel had the collection of tithe for four +Parishes, and now that the distress among the clergy and their families +had assumed such a dreadful and appalling aspect, he had an opportunity +of ascertaining the extraordinary respect and affection for them which +existed after all in the minds of the people. His own house and premises +were now so strongly secured, and his apprehension of nocturnal attacks +so strongly justified by the threats he had already received, and the +disorganized state of the country around him, that he was forced to +decline receiving the tithe at unseasonable hours; it being impossible +for him to know whether the offer of payment might not have been a plan +of the people to get into his dwelling, and wreak their vengeance +upon him and his sons. Under these circumstances, his advice to them, +communicated with due regard to his own safety, was to pay the money +directly to the clergyman himself, or at least to some of his family; +and this, indeed, when they lived near the clergyman, they always +preferred doing. To be sure, the step was a hazardous one, but, as +they say, where there is a will there is a way; and so it was in many +instances on this occasion. The dead hour of the night was necessarily +selected for the performance of this kind office, and in this way +many an unexpected act of relief was experienced by the starving and +destitute clergy, at the hands of the very persons who were sworn to +abolish tithes, and to refuse paying them in any shape. + +Sometimes, to be sure, when Purcel or his sons happened to be abroad +on business, attended as they now generally were by policemen for their +protection, a countryman, for instance, would hastily approach him or +them, as the case might be, and thrusting a sum of money rolled up in +paper, into his hand, exclaim, “It's the thrifle o' the last gale o' +rint, sir, that I was short in--you'll find a bit o' murnmyrandim in +the paper, that'll show you it's all right.” This, uttered with a dry, +significant expression of countenance, was a sufficient indication of +the object intended. On examining the paper, it was generally found to +contain some such direction as the following-- + +“MR. PURCEL, SIR--The enclosed is for the Rev. Misther Harvey. For God's +sake, give it to him as soon as you can; as I undherstand himself and +family is starvin' outright--I daren't give it to him myself, or be seen +goin' near his house. Sure when we think of the good he done, himself +an' his family, whin they had the manes, it's enough to make one pity +them, especially when we know what they're sufferin' so quietly, an' +without makin' any hubbub about it; but sure, God help us, there's +humbug enough in the counthry. Don't lose time, i' you plase, Mr. +Purcel, as I'm tould that they're brought to the dry praitie at last, +God help them.” + +It was in the early part of the day of O'Driscol's last triumph on Duke +Schomberg, that John Purcel went to discharge to a clergyman in the next +parish, a commission of a similar nature to that just recited. He drove +there on a car, accompanied by three policemen, avoiding, as well as he +could, all narrow and dangerous passes, and determined to return, if at +all practicable, by a different road, for such of late was the practice +of the family, when out on business. An it is, however, we shall +leave him on his way and take the liberty of requesting our readers +to anticipate his arrival, for the purpose of getting a glimpse at the +condition of those to whom he was carrying some slight means of mere +temporary relief. + +The clergyman, whose desolate habitation he was about to visit, had +passed about sixty winters, fifteen of which he had spent in that house, +and thirty in the parish. That is to say, he had been fifteen years +curate, and fifteen rector, without ever having been absent more than +a month or six weeks at a time; and even these absences occurred +but rarely. We remember him well, and with affection, as who of his +survivors that ever knew him does not? He was tall, that is, somewhat +above the middle height, and until pressed down by the general +affliction which fell upon his class and his family, he had been quite +erect in his person. He was now bent, however, as by a load of years, +and on his pale face lay the obvious traces of sorrow and suffering. But +this was not all; whilst Destitution of the severest kind had impressed +on that venerable countenance the melancholy exponent of her presence, +Religion had also blended with it that beautiful manifestation of her +unshaken trust in God; of patience, meekness, and a disposition to +receive at his hands the severest dispensations of life, with a spirit +of cheerful humility and resignation. Take a cursory glance at his face, +and there, no doubt, you saw at once that sorrow and suffering lay. +Look, however, a little longer; observe the benign serenity of that +clear and cloudless eye; mark the patient sweetness of that firm and +well-formed mouth, and the character of heroic tranquility that pervades +his whole person, and sanctifies his sorrows, until they fill the heart +of the spectator with reverence and sympathy, and his mind with a sense +of the dignity, not to say sublimity, which religion can bestow upon +human suffering, in which it may almost be said that the creature gains +a loving triumph over the Creator himself. + +Every one knows that, in general, the clergy of Ireland, as a class, +lived from hand to mouth, and that the men who suffered most during +the period of which we write were those whose livings were of moderate +income. The favored individuals, who enjoyed the rich and larger +incumbencies, the calamity did not reach, or if it did, only in +a slighter degree, and with but comparatively little effect. The +cessation, therefore, of only one year's income to those who had no +other source of support on which to depend, was dreadful. In many +instances, however, their tithes had been refused for two, and, in +some localities, for nearly three years, although the opposition to +the payment had not for such a length of time assumed the fierce and +implacable spirit which had characterized it during the last twelve +months. These observations will now enable our readers to understand +more clearly the picture with which we are about to present them. + +On entering the house of this truly pious and patient pastor, the first +thing that struck you was the sense of vacancy and desolation united. In +other words, you perceived at a glance that everything of any value was +gone. You saw scarcely any furniture--no clock, no piano, no carpeting, +no mahogany chairs or tables, or at least none that were not of absolute +necessity. Feather beds had gone, curtains had gone; and all those +several smaller elegancies which it is difficult, and would be tedious, +to enumerate here. Seated at a breakfast-table, in an uncarpeted parlor, +was the clergyman himself, surrounded by his interesting but afflicted +family. His hair, which, until within the last twelve months, had been +an iron gray, was now nearly white, and his chin was sunk in a manner +that had not, until recently, been usual with him. Servants, male and +female, had been dismissed, and those whose soft, fair hands had +been accustomed only to the piano, the drawing-pencil, or the +embroidery-frame, were now engaged in the coarsest and commonest +occupations of domestic life. Nor were they, too, without their +honorable sacrifices of personal vanity and social pride, to the +calamity that was upon them. Silks and satins, laces and gauzes, +trinkets, unnecessary bonnets and veils, were all cheerfully parted +with; and it was on such occasions that our friend the _Cannie Soogah_ +became absolutely a kind of public benefactor. He acted not only in the +character of a pedlar, but in that of a broker; and so generally known +were his discretion and integrity throughout the country, that such +matters were disposed of to him at a far less amount of shame and +suffering than they could have been in any other way. + +The family in question consisted of the father, his wife, four +daughters, and three sons; the eldest daughter had been, for some +months, discharging the duty of governess in a family of rank; the +eldest son had just got an appointment as usher in a school near +the metropolis; two circumstances which filled the hearts of this +affectionate family with a satisfaction that was proportionately +heightened by their sufferings. + +About this period they expected a letter from their daughter; and on the +morning in question their father had dispatched one of his boys to the +post-office, with a hope of receiving it. The male portion of the family +were the younger, with the exception of the eldest son, who was their +third child. Their position was as follows: the old man sat at the end +of a plain table, with his bible open before him--for they had just +concluded prayer: his wife, a younger-looking woman, and faded more +by affliction than by age, sat beside him, holding on her breast their +third daughter--she who had been once the star of their hearth, and who +reclined there in mute sorrow, her pale cheek and wasted hands giving +those fatal indications of consumption in its last stage, which so +severely tries the heart of parent or relative to witness. The other two +girls sat opposite, one of them in tears, turning her heart-broken +look now upon the countenance of her father and again upon that of her +gentle, but almost dying sister, whilst her companion endeavored to +soothe her little brother, who was crying for food; for the simple fact +was, that they had not yet breakfasted, nor were the means of providing +a breakfast under their roof. Their sole hope for that, as well as for +more enlarged relief, depended upon the letter which they expected from +their eldest daughter. + +It is scarcely necessary to say that they all looked pale, sickly, and +emaciated with suffering, and want of' the comfortable necessaries of +life. Their dress was decent, of course, but such as they never expected +to have been forced to wear so long. The crying boy was barefooted, +and the young creature who endeavored to console him had thin and worn +slippers on her tender feet, and her snowy skin was in more than one +place visible through the rents of her frock. The old man looked +at them, from time to time; and there might have been observed, +notwithstanding the sweetness and placidity of his smile, a secret +expression of inward agony--the physical and natural feelings of the +parent and the man mingling, or rather struggling, with the great +principle of dependence on God, without which he must at once have sunk +down prostrate and hopeless. + +“When,” said the boy, “will Edward come from the post-office? Is there +nothing at all in the house, mamma, that I could eat?” + +“Hush! Frank,” said his sister; “where's your generosity and your +patience? Did we not all promise to think of papa and mamma before +ourselves--yes, and of our poor Maria, too, who is so ill?” + +“That is true,” replied the boy, “but when I promised that, I wasn't so +hungry as I am now. But, still, if I had anything to eat, I would +give the best part of it to papa or mamma, or Maria, if she could eat +it--that is, after I had taken one mouthful for myself. Oh will Ned +never come from the post-office?” + +“Mamma,” said the sick girl, looking up into her mother's eyes, “I +am sustained by one hope, and that is, that I will soon cease to be a +burthen upon dear papa--my heartbroken papa and you. I am anxious to +pass away to that blessed place where all tears shall be wiped from my +eyes;” and as she spoke she raised herself a little, and quietly wiped +one or two from them; and, she proceeded, “where the weary will be at +rest. Alas! how little did we expect or imagine this great weight of +suffering!” + +“My darling child,” said her mother, kissing her pale cheek, and +pressing her more tenderly to her bosom, “you have ever been more +solicitous for the comfort and well-being of others than you have been +for your own; yet, well and dearly as we love you, how can we grudge you +to God? It was He who gave you to us--it is He who is taking you from +us; and what can we say, but blessed be His name?” + +“My children,” said the old man, “what would life be if there were +nothing to awaken us to a sense of our responsibilities to our Creator? +If it presented to us nothing but one unshaken path of pleasure and +ease--one equal round of careless enjoyment and indolent apathy? Alas! +my darlings, do not we, who are aged and have experience, know that it +is those who are not taken by calamity and suffering who gradually fall +into that hardness of heart, which prevents the spirit from feeling one +of the most wholesome of truths--that indifference is danger, and that a +neglect of the things which belong to a better life, and which serve +to prepare us for it, is the great omission of those who are not +called upon to suffer. You know, my children, that whom God loveth He +chasteneth, and it is true. To those whom He graciously visits with +affliction, it may be said that He communicates, from time to time, +a new revelation of Himself; for it is by such severe but wholesome +manifestations that He speaks to and arouses the forgetful or the +alienated heart. Our calamity, however, and sufferings, possess more +dignity, and are associated with a greater work than that involved +in the isolated sorrows of a single family. God is chastising a cold, +corrupt, and negligent church, through the turbulence and outrage of the +people. What has our church in this country been, within the memory of +man, but a mere secular establishment, like the law or the army, into +which men enter not from a lofty and pure sense of the greatness +of their mission, but as a convenient means of securing an easy and +indolent profession? I know not what our church might have been if left +to herself; but this I do know, that for many a long year the unblushing +iniquity of British policy has served only to corrupt and degrade her, +and to make what ought to be the speaking oracle of God's truth, the +consolation of the penitent sinner, the sure guide to the ignorant or +the doubtful--yes, to make that Church, which ought to be a source of +purity, of blessing, and of edification, to all--a system of corrupt +rewards for political prostitution, parcelled out to meet the sordid +spirit of family alliances and ungodly bargains; or, in other words, to +turn her into a mass of bribes--a base appendage to the authority of +the British minister, who used her as the successful medium of at +once enslaving and demoralizing the country, instead of elevating and +civilizing it. It is for this great neglect of national duty, and for +permitting ourselves to be imbued with the carnal and secular spirit, +which has led us so far from practical truth and piety, that the church +is now suffering. We have betrayed our trust, and been treacherous both +to God and man. For my own part, my children, I am glad that I and mine +have been counted worthy to suffer in this cause. We are now passing +through the furnace, but we shall come out purified. Our grossness shall +be purged away, and the proud spirit of mammon burned out of us. But you +know that God, my dear ones, can accomplish a double purpose by the +same means. Our church shalt be exalted and purified, and her ministers +prepared for a higher and holier mission than that in which they +have hitherto been engaged. She shall awaken to a sense of her great +responsibility; a new spirit shall be created within her; a living +energy shall characterize those who have slumbered under the unholy +shadows which she has cast around her, and those who think that they +are smiting her unto death shall find that they have been made only +the instruments in God's hands for the purification of her body and the +regeneration of her spirit. Charles,” he added, turning to the boy, who +still wept, although as furtively as he could, “bear up, my child: Ned, +you may rest assured, will make as little delay as possible, and I hope +he will bring us relief.” + +“Mamma,” said the invalid, looking up tenderly into her face, “will +you--oh! no, not you, mamma--Emily will--a mouthful of drink, Emily +dear, and let it be pure water, Emily; I think it agrees with me best.” + +“Alas, my darling!” exclaimed her mother, wiping away a few quiet tears, +“I have nothing else to give you.” + +“Well, mamma, but you know I like it very much.” + +“Precious child,” replied her mother, again tenderly pressing her to her +bosom; “we all know your goodness, and the reluctance with which you ask +anything that you fear might occasion us trouble. Dearest life, it will +be the memory of these glimpses of angelic goodness that will wring +our hearts when you are----” She paused, for the words had been uttered +unconsciously. + +“Yes,” said her father, “they will console us, my child, and make your +memory smell sweet, and blossom from the very dust. You have probably +heard of the beautiful sentiment so exquisitely delineated by the great +painter--'I too have been in Arcadia,'--and will it not be something to +us to be able to say,--'We too have an angel in paradise!'” + +Her sister brought her a cup of cold water, with which, after thanking +her with a sweet smile, she merely wet her lips. “Alas! I am very +troublesome to you all, but I shall not long--” + +“Darling sister,” said Emily, tenderly kissing her, “do not speak so; +you are too good, and ever were so. Ah! Maria,” she exclaimed, gushing +into tears, “is it come to this at last!” + +The sick girl placed her hand affectionately upon her cheek, and +said--“Dear, dear sister, how I love you! Oh! how I love you all! and +papa, my dear papa, how I pity you in your sorrow!” + +“Thanks, my darling, I know that your heart is pervaded and sustained by +all tenderness and affection; and indeed it is a consolation that since +calamity has come upon us, it has fallen upon a family of love--of love +to which it only gives greater strength and tenderness. This is a great +blessing, my children, and we ought to feel deeply thankful for it. But, +at the same time, it matters not what we suffer, we must allow nothing +in this world of trial to shake our trust in God. Here, however, is our +poor little messenger. Well Edward, any letter?” + +“Oh, yes, papa; there is one from Matilda. I know her writing.” + +He then handed the letter to his father, and immediately going over +to his sick sister, he placed a slice of bread and butter in her hand, +adding, “The head-constable of police gave it to me; I would have +refused it though--but for Maria.” + +“Did you eat none of it yourself, Edward?” asked Maria. + +“No,” he replied, “I thought mamma might make you up some light nice +thing out of it.” + +“But I cannot eat it, my dear Ned; divide it as you wish, but thank you, +darling, from my heart, for thinking of me.” + +He then would have shared it as equally as he could among them, but to +himself and his brother it was left; the others, from a feeling which +may easily be understood, declined to partake of it. + +We do not, of course, give this as a general picture of the distress +which was felt; but we do give it as a picture which was by no means +rare among the established clergy at the period of which we write. We +know, from the best authority, that the privations of the time were +frequently so severe as to find many families without food to eat. + +Their daughter's letter was touching and simple, but unfortunately it +contained, not the remittance they expected; a circumstance which, in +their condition, was such a disappointment as cannot well be described. +She stated that, in consequence of the absence from home, for some days, +of the family with whom she lived, it was out of her power to send them +the full amount of her first quarter's salary as she had intended, or +any money at all, as they knew she had none except her salary to send. +She wrote, however, lest they might think or suppose for a moment that +she had forgotten them. She sent her warmest love and affection to them +all, especially to Maria, whom she hoped her letter would find better. +Here she mentioned them all by name, and concluded by saying, that the +moment the family returned home, she would remit to her dear papa the +amount of her whole quarter's salary. + +The youngsters all burst into tears, the fact being that they had not +tasted food for more than eighteen hours. The mother, worn and pale +with anxiety and distress, turned sorrowfully to her husband and said: +“Charles, what is to be done? must our children die? must they perish +with famine?” + +“Send Charles over to M'Mahon's,” replied her husband; “he is poor, it +is true, but he is our next neighbor, and from him, if he will oblige +us, relief will come soonest. Charles, go, my child, and ask Con M'Mahon +if he will be good enough to send me a stone or two of potatoes for a +few days; and I will feel obliged--your brother, poor child, is fatigued +by his journey to the post-office, and from other causes--or being the +elder I would make him go--if M'Mahon obliges me, tell him that I will +thank him to send them, as I have no messenger to fetch them. I have +always found poor M'Mahon respectful and neighborly, and I am certain he +will not refuse us.” + +We shall not detail the distressing and melancholy conversation, in +which they were engaged until the child's return. It is enough to say +that, although he met with no refusal, the expected relief was not sent. +“Well, my child,” inquired his anxious father, “what reply did he give?” + +“He said, papa,” returned the child, “that he would give you a whole +sack of potatoes with pleasure, but that, to send them in the open day, +would be more than his life is worth--he dare not do it.” + +The old man looked up, then clasping his hands together, and glancing at +his unhappy family, a few bitter tears rolled down his cheeks. + +“But,” added the boy, “he said he would bring over as many as he could +carry, about twelve o'clock to-night.” + +“Well,” continued his father, “that is civil; and I believe, as to the +danger, he is right. But, in the meantime, what is to be done? I fear +all the available sources of relief have been already exhausted, with +the exception of heaven alone--in which, my children, we must not permit +anything to shake our trust. I am feeble, but yet I must go forth and +try to secure some food for you, my poor famishing family: hold up, +then, my dear children, even for a little, for certain I am that God +will provide for us still.” + +He was, accordingly, upon the point of going out, when John Purcel +entered; and as the object of his visit is already known to the reader, +we shall leave to his imagination the sense of the relief which it +afforded. + +This now is not an overdrawn picture of particular cases--and they were +numerous--which occurred during the period of what was termed the Tithe +rebellion. + +The circumstance of the message to M'Mahon's, however, was the cause +of a scene which we could not possiby omit, in a work treating of this +peculiar and most distressing crisis. As the boy Charles was on his way +to M'Mahon's--and this he mentioned to the family afterwards--he was +met, he said, by a gentleman dressed in rusty black, mounted upon a +strong, coarse horse; and who, after looking at him with a good deal of +surprise, said--“What is your name, my fine fellow?” and on hearing +it he asked him where he was going. The child, who had been trained to +nothing but truth; mentioned at once the object of his message; upon +which the gentleman in question, after having heard it, thrust his hands +into his smallclothes pocket, and then drew them out with an air of +impatience, exclaiming--“Bad luck to it for poverty--it's the curse +o' the counthry.” Now this worthy priest, for such he was, had not been +many weeks in the parish at the period of his meeting with the little +boy; and it so happened, that his residence was within about a quarter +of a mile of the glebe house. He was, besides, one of the few who had +given, upon more than one occasion, rather unequivocal manifestations of +violent opposition to the whole system of tithes. As a matter of course, +he was the last individual from whom anything like sympathy for those +who suffered in such a cause might be expected. Much of the same +character was M'Mahon, to whom the distressed parson had applied for the +humble loan of food. He assailed, in fact, the whole Establishment, and +took both an active and conspicuous part in the excitement which then +agitated the country. He joined the crowds, vociferated and shouted +among them at the top of his lungs, and took the liberty of laying down +the law on the subject, as he termed it: that is to say, of swearing +that one stick or stone of their dirty Establishment should not be +left upon another, but that the whole bobbery of it must be sent to +blazes--where it would all go yet, plaise God. Of course his neighbor, +the parson, was by no means cognizant of this violence on the part of +M'Mahon, or he would never have thought of applying to him, even under +the severest pressure of absolute destitution. + +Having premised thus much concerning these two individuals, we request +our readers to accompany us to the house of the Rev. Anthony Casey, +and to suppose that it is a little after the hour of eleven o'clock at +night. The worthy gentleman and his curate had just seated themselves +in his snug, but humble little parlor, where a pleasant turf fire was +beginning to get somewhat dim, when the following dialogue occurred +between them: + +“Pettier,” said Father Anthony to his curate, who had just returned from +a sick call, “you found the night bitther, I think?” + +“It is very cold, indeed, sir.” + +“You have had a long ride of it upon that mountain road, without even a +bush to shelther you.” + +“It is not less than fourteen miles I think,” replied the curate, “and a +cold, desolate road as I ever travelled.” + +“You have read your office?” + +“I have, sir.” + +“You have discharged your duty to that poor, sick widow?” + +“I hope so, sir.” + +“And you have ridden under a severe night, along a naked road, a +distance of fourteen miles?” + +“I have, sir.” + +“And you feel your mind aisy, and your conscience at rest?” + +“I can say so with truth, thank God,” replied the curate. + +“Well, then, in that case,” proceeded the kind-hearted priest, “I think +you had better take a tumbler of punch: it will comfort you, and make +you sleep like a top.” + +“Thank you, sir,” replied the curate, “I am much obliged to you; but I +don't require it, I have no particular wish for it.” + +“But I tell you, man alive, that it will do you good; and lest you might +feel solitary, I think I will take one with you, merely to keep you in +countenance;--here Katty!” + +Katty, a complacent, kind-looking woman, somewhat past the middle period +of life, then made her appearance. “Well, your reverence?” + +“Get hot water and tumblers--Father Pettier is starved after his long +ride such a night, and must have a tumbler of punch to warm him, poor +fellow, and I am going to keep him in countenance; and see, Katty, bring +the poteen that's in Ould Broadbottom, at the right-hand side o' +the cubbard. Stir the fire a little, Pettier, and throw on a sod or +two--it's getting dull.” + +This was complied with; and Father Peter observed, after he had trimmed +the grate a little:-- + +“The country, sir, is in a frightful state. This tithe rebellion is +quite general. On my way out to Drumfurrar and home again, I met large +crowds on the roads, cold as the night is; and on speaking to, and +remonstrating with them, upon meeting and being abroad at such hours, +they desired me to mind my own business, and allow them to mind theirs. +The country is literally alive with them night and day.” + +“Very well,” replied Father Anthony, “let them work out their own +purposes, provided they keep within the limits of the law. You know the +Established Church is nothing else than an English garrison to support +and keep alive British interests in this country; but the people are +going the right way to work; for I tell you, Pettier, that, by strictly +observing the doctrine of passive resistance, they will starve the same +garrison clane and clear out o' the country. And won't that be a great +day for Ireland, Pettier?” + +“Yes, sir, no doubt of it; but in the meantime the unfortunate parsons +are suffering dreadfully: many of them are starving literally, and it +is those who have not hoarded up the mammon of unrighteousness, but have +been charitable and benevolent to the poor, who are now suffering most.” + +“Ay, faith, that's not a bad thought, Pettier; but I tell you the mammon +of unrighteousness is by no means a bad thing. We may say as we will, we +priests and parsons, but I say to you, what is a man worth in this world +without money? Not a thraneen. A complete nonenity, and sorras thing +else. And whisper, Pettier; what is the starving of the parsons to us? +They had the fat an' marrow of the land long, enough, and I think it's +full time that we should come in for a lick at last. Think of you or I +living to see ourselves rolling about in a rich carriage, with a lump +of a mithre, like a pair of ass's ears stuck together, painted on the +outride of it, and we waiting, and drinkn' of the best. Arra, salvation +to me, but the prospect's a born beauty, so it is, and will be rayalized +yet, plaise God.” + +“Too much wealth, sir, is an enemy to religion.” + +“Well, Pettier, that may be so occasionally; but here's your health, and +in the meantime, I didn't care that some of us had a little more of it. +I would have given a pound-note today to have had five shillings about +me; and sorra testher I had in my company.” + +“You must have been pretty closely pressed for cash, when you would have +given such a premium.” + +“Troth, then, I was; and when the poor boy mentioned whose son he was, +and when I saw his little delicate feet without shoes, and heard his +story--mammon of unrighteousness! devil a thing in life aiquil to it. +It enables a man to do the practical good, and not satisfy himself or +escape with empty words.” + +“They say our neighbor here, Mr. Goodison, is very ill off.” + +“Well, I dare say he's not on the top of the wheel; however, as I said, +what's their starvation to us? If it was laid upon them for their sins, +do you think it would be right in us to intherfare and set ourselves +against Providence?--blessed be His name.” + +“Well, I must confess,” replied his amiable curate, “that I was not +prepared for such an argument as that from you. You know we ought to +love our enemies.” + +“Very well,” replied Father Anthony; “I have no objection to love our +enemies, provided they feed themselves. But surely to love and feed them +is rather too much of a good thing.” + +During this brief dialogue they had mixed each his tumbler of punch, +and after a pause of some minutes, during which the hardhearted parish +priest sighed deeply as he looked into the fire, he exclaimed-- + +“You know, Pettier, that I am opposed to a Protestant Established Church +in this country; and you know, besides, that I have gone farther in this +tithe affair than most of my brethren, and on that account I hope you +are not surprised at my opinions. Starve them out's my maxim. But still, +aftcher all, salvation to me, but it's a trying case to be without food, +and above all, to see your own children--” + +“My own children,” exclaimed the curate, with a smile. + +“Ay, Pether,” proceeded this benevolent hypocrite, forgetting +everything but the image that was before him--“Ay, in troth, your own +children--your own children, poor things, without a morsel to put +into their mouths; and your wife, Pether, that you love betther +than--than--aye, than a station dinner, a thousand times--sittin' with a +pale face and a breaking, or, maybe, a broken heart, looking on at their +privations and their miserable destitution, without being able to +render them the laist assistance. Bad luck to it, for a mammon of +unrighteousness, it's never in the way when it's wanted.” + +After he had concluded, he took out a red cotton pocket-handkerchief, +spotted at equal distances with white dice, and wiped away the tears +that had gushed to his eyes whilst he spoke. + +“Pettier,” said he, immediately, “finish your tumbler and go to bed; you +know we must be off to-morrow to station before six o'clock, and after +your bitther ride to-night you want rest, poor fellow.” + +When about a quarter of an hour had elapsed, and he had seen Peter +to bed, he went to the kitchen, and asked Katty, his housekeeper, who +always attended upon him and his curate, if she had done what he desired +her. + +“It's done, your reverence,” she replied, “but you'll never be able to +carry it.” + +“That's not your affair, Katty--do you hear now?” + +“I do, your reverence.” + +“Very well, then, I tell you that's none of your affair,--the sorra bit. +I hope you did'nt let Barney go to bed?” + +“Of coorse not, sir, when you bid me keep him up.” + +“Very well, then; and if either he or you brittle a syllable of this +to Father Pether, I'll read you both oat--do you hear that now? Bring +Barney here, then.” + +Barney accordingly made his appearance. + +“Now mark me,” continued the priest, “if either of you ever brathes a +syllable of this, salvation to me, but I'll read you both out from the +althar. Here now help me on with this sack; it's for a distressed person +in the neighborhood that wants it badly, as you may judge, or I wouldn't +be trudging off with it at this hour of the night. Katty, you go to +bed, and let Barney stay up till I come back--did you mind my words, I +repate--read you both out, if ever a syllable comes to Father Pother's +ears, or anybody's else's but our own.” + +The servant man accordingly assisted him to raise upon his stout and +honest shoulders a short heavy bag of oatmeal, into which he had +thrust a large flitch of newly-hung bacon; and thus loaded, the violent +anti-tithe priest bent his way, nearly at the hour of twelve o'clock, to +the residence of the Rev. Mr. Goodison, his neighbor. + +It is necessary to state here, that the glebe-house of that gentleman +was situated within about two hundred yards of two crossroads, one of +which went by the gate of entrance to it. After a severe trudge, during +a night that began now to brighten as the moon rose, Father Anthony +found himself approaching the cross-roads in question, and for a moment +imagined that he saw his own shadow before him, an impression which +soon changed on observing that the shadow, or whatever it was, although +loaded much as he himself was, that is to say, with a sack on his +shoulders, evidently approached him--a circumstance which he knew to +be an impossibility, and that it must, consequently, be a distinct +individual. Having satisfied himself of this, he got under the shade of +a hedge, a movement in which he was instantly imitated by the stranger. +Each stood concealed for some time, with a, hope that the other might +advance and turn probably out of his way; but neither seemed disposed to +move. At length, Father Anthony gave a kind of inquisitive, dry cough, +by way of experiment, which was instantly responded to by another cough +equally dry and mysterious. These were repeated two or three times +without success, when at last Father Anthony advanced a little under +shadow of the hedge, and found as before that the strange individual did +the same; and thus, in fact, they kept gradually, coughing at each other +and approaching until they fairly met face to face, each with a sack +upon his shoulders. + +“Con M'Mahon!” exclaimed the priest, “why, what on earth brought you out +at this hour of the night, and--aisy, what is this you're' carrying?” + +“Faix, your reverence,” replied the other, “I might as well ask yourself +the same two questions.” + +“I know you might,” said Father Anthony; “but in the manetime you had +better not.” + +The priest spoke like one whose wind had not been improved by the +burthen he carried; and M'Mahon, anxious if possible to get rid of +him, determined to enter into some conversation that might tire out his +strength. He consequently selected the topic of the day as being best +calculated for that purpose. + +“Isn't these blessed times that's coming, plaise your reverence,” said +M'Mahon, “when we'll be done wid these tithes, and have the millstone +taken from our necks altogether?” + +This was spoken in a most wheedling and insinuating tone replete with +the the confidence of one who knew that the stronger he spoke the more +satisfaction he would give his auditor, and the more readily he would +avert any suspicion as to his object and appearance at such an hour. + +“Yes,” returned the priest, giving his burthen an uneasy twitch, “we +have had too weighty a load upon our shoulders this many a day, and the +devil's own predicament it is to be overburthened with anything--we all +know that.” + +“Sorra doubt of it,” replied the other, easing himself as well as he +could by a corresponding hitch; “but it's one comfort to myself anyhow, +that I done my duty against the same tithes--an' bad luck to them!” + +“If you did your duty, you weren't without a good example, at all +events,” replied the priest; “I taught you how to hate the accursed +impost--but at the same time, you know I always told you to make a +distinction between the tithes and the--hem--” + +“An' what, your reverence?” + +“Hem--why you know, Con, that we're commanded to love our enemies, and +it was upon this ground that I always taught you to make a distinction, +as I say, between the tithes and the parsons themselves. And by the way, +now, I don't know but it would be our duty,” he proceeded, “to render +the same parsons, now that they're suffering, as much good for evil as +possible. It would be punishing the thieves by heaping, as the Scripture +says, coals of fire upon their heads.” + +“And do you think, your reverence,” replied the other, who was too quick +of apprehension not to suspect what the priest was driving at, “do you +think that I have been so long listening to your advice, not to know +that such a coorse was my duty?” + +“That's the way,” continued the priest, “to punish them like a +Christian.” + +“Ay, to punish them, your reverence, as you say--an' in troth, I'm the +man myself that 'ud go any length to do it.” + +“But where are you bound to now, Con, and what--ahem--what is that you +are carrying?” asked the priest. + +“Why then, it's the butt-end of a sack o' pittities,” replied Con, +giving an answer only to the easiest side of the query. + +“Well, but who are you bringing them?” he asked again, “because, thank +God, there's not much poverty in this neighborhood at present.” + +“Well, then, God forgive me!” replied the other, concealing his +benevolence by a grin, which he could not prevent at his own ingenuity, +but which he endeavored to conceal as well as he could; “God forgive me! +but hearin' that Goodison the parson here, and his family were in great +distress, I thought I might as well have my revenge aginst him, by +fetchin' him a load o' praties, which is all I can spare the poor +ould--hem--the heretical ould creature--and so, says I to myself, it's +a good opportunity of heapin' the coals upon him that you spoke about, +sir. And upon my conscience, as far as a good weighty butt o' praties +goes, I'll punish him this very night.” + +The priest gave a short hiccup or two, as if laboring under some +momentary affection of the throat, which soon extended to the eyes, for +with some difficulty he put up his naked hand and wiped away a kind of +moisture, that in ordinary cases would have very much resembled tears. + +“Ah, I see, Con!” he said, after clearing his throat a little, “you +had a grudge against him like myself, and you determined to--ay--just +so--you see, Con, here's the way of it; he didn't visit me yet since I +came to the parish--do you understand?--and I tell you, flesh or blood +couldn't overlook such a slight; so I'm glad, at all events, that you +had the spirit to follow my advice--for the truth is, I'm goin' to have +my revenge as well as yourself; but when one does take his revenge, Con, +it's always best to take it like a Christian. So now that we understand, +one another, let us go up to the glebe--otherwise I'll drop.--However, +salvation to me!” he exclaimed with a smile, “if we'll bear their +burthens much longer! I have a butt of meal here, I saw his son to-day, +too, without a stitch to his foot, poor boy.” + +“And so did I,” replied M'Mahon; “he sent one o' them over to me for the +loan of a lock o' praties.” + +“Oh, God help them!” exclaimed the priest. “Come, Con, let us hurry--but +why didn't you send them then?” + +“Why, sir--why, bekaise I daren't send them in open daylight.” + +“True enough,” said the other; “and it was stupid of me to ask. I myself +would have sent what I'm carrying to him by Barney Brennan, but that I +feared it would take wind, in which case the people might withdraw their +confidence from me, from an apprehension that I wanted to curry favor +with the parson of the parish, which I assure you, Condy, I do not. But +listen to me, now; you're never to brathe a syllable of this adventure.” + +“Ill give you my oath of it, sir, if you wish, takin' it for granted, at +the same time, that I'm safe with you.” + +“Never fear that; I'm not the man to play the traitor on any poor fellow +that I might catch at any illegal work of the kind.” + +Both were now within a few perches of the hall-door, when the +priest, who was scarcely able to speak from fatigue, said with some +difficulty:-- + +“Con, as we have met, I think you must take the responsibility of this +night's adventure on yourself. Here, now,” said he, depositing his +burden against the door as he spoke, “I think the best thing to do, in +order to spare their feelings--for I need not tell you, that they are, +by all accounts, a delicately-minded and highly-educated family--and +it will be well to tax them as little as possible; I say then,--let us +place, these sacks against the hall-door, and as soon as it is opened, +they will tumble in heels foremost upon them, and then you can cut. So +now I leave you to manage it, only, on any earthly account, don't name +me to a living soul in the business. Good night, now, and God bless +you--as He will,” he added, retreating from the hall-door--“as He will, +you kind-hearted, good-natured ringleader you.” + +The matter, however, did not end here, for, as Burns says, “the +best-laid schemes of mice and men may gang agree.” The aid received +by the venerable Mr. Goodigon and his family had escaped through the +children, in the early part of the next day, and had spread through the +neighborhood; and sooth to say, there was scarcely a voice among them +louder in condemnation of the fact than that of Con M'Mahon, who said +it was a bad way to banish tithes by assistin' the parsons. So far as +he was concerned, however, the secret did not at all transpire. His +reverence, however, was by no means so fortunate. The next morning, +he and his curate were under the necessity of holding a station in a +distant part of the parish. Father Anthony, however, feeling himself +fatigued by his burthen of the preceding night, sent the curate on +before him, with an assurance that he would follow him in an hour or +two. He accordingly did so, but, with his usual inattention to dress, +was seen the next morning, about ten o'clock, riding along the public +road--which was a great thoroughfare--towards the locality of the +station with the history of the previous night's transaction written +as clearly oh his back as if it had been labelled there in large and +legible print. The truth is, the humane and charitable priest had +neglected to get his coat brushed--an operation which it never underwent +unless on a Sunday morning--and the consequence was, that whilst the +front part of his dress was tolerably black, the back part of it would +have done credit to the coat of a miller. The sagacity of the people +was not for a moment at fault. Both circumstances were immediately +connected; his reverence's secret took wind, and before the expiration +of forty-eight hours was known to the whole parish. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI.--Massacre of Carrickshock + +--Mogue Moglan's Anxiety for the Safety of the Purcels--Tithe +Distraint--Good News for Mr. Temple. + + +Matters had now arrived at such a crisis, that either the law must be +vindicated, or tithes should be considered as put down by violence on +the one hand, and passive resistance on the other; for, as the question +stood, it had to grapple with both. The clergymen of the establishment, +cramped by poverty, and harassed by delay, were not now in a condition +to recover their incomes by the tedious and expensive processes that +were hitherto resorted to. Some point, however, was made, or some +antiquated statute was ferreted out, owing to the black-letter craft +of certain astute lawyers, by which the parson or proctor, we believe, +as the case might have been, instead of being forced to incur enormous +expense for the recovery of any individual responsibility, was enabled, +through what was termed a “Writ of Rebellion,” to join the greater +part of a parish, if not the whole of it, in the same legal process, by +inserting their names in the writ. At first, however, and in the early +stage of the proceedings, the resistance was by no means passive. +Experience, however, soon taught the people that the law and the +executive, when opposed, were anything but playthings, and the loss of +several lives on the part of those who attempted, by force, to obstruct +the execution of the former, led to the expediency of adopting the +passive plan. A widow's son had been shot in a tithe-levy; and on the +other side, a clergyman named Ryder had fallen a victim to the outrage +of the people--as, we believe, had other reverend gentlemen also, +together with a tithe-proctor, who was shot in his own field in open +day, his son, a boy of fifteen or sixteen, having also a narrow escape. +Purcel's position was now one of extreme danger and difficulty. The +combination against tithes had been carried to such a height, that +not only were the people sworn to pay no tithes, but all the proctor's +laborers were forced, besides, to quit his employment. No man could work +for him, unless at the certain risk of his life. By the mere influence +of money, and the offer of triple wages, he succeeded in procuring a +number of workmen from a neighboring county; but no sooner were they +seen in his employment, than an immense crowd collected from all parts +of the country, and after treating them with great violence, swore, +every man of them, never to work for Purcel, or any other tithe-proctor +whatever. This treatment exasperated the Purcels exceedingly; indeed, +so much so, that they expressed to the people a wish that their house +should be attacked, in order that they might thereby have an opportunity +of shooting the assailants like dogs. In this way the feeling ran on +between them day by day, until the acrimony and thirst for vengeance, +on each side, had reached its utmost height. In the meantime, a tithe +auction was to take place at a distance of some three or four miles from +the Proctor's. On the morning when it was to take place, Mogue Moylan +told Alick Purcel that he wished to speak to him. This scoundrel's +plausibility was such, that he had continued to act the spy and traitor +in the family, without exciting suspicion in the mind of any one, +with the exception only of Jerry Joyce, who being himself involved in +Whiteboyism, was placed in a position of great difficulty and danger. To +have discovered Mogue's treachery, would not only criminate himself, by +the necessity of admitting his connection with this illegal combination, +which was a felony at the time, but it would also have probably +occasioned the loss of his life, by betraying the designs of his +confederacy, and thus proving himself, as it would have been termed, a +traitor to the people, and to the cause of his country. Such, in truth, +are the multifarious evils that result from illegal conspiracies among +our impulsive and unreasoning countryman. + +“It's a word or two I'd wish to spake to you, Mr. Alick.” + +“Well, Mogue, what's the matter? Are you still determined to be +hard-hearted to poor Letty Lenehan?” + +“That I may never sup sorrow, Mr. Alick, if I can help the foolish +creature! I do all I can to let her see that we are not aiquils; but +the thoughtless girl won't be convinced. I belong to a family, sir, that +always suffered for our counthry. Widin the last six hundre' years, I +have it from sound authority, that there never was a ruction on +Irish ground that wasn't the manes of havin' some o' them hanged or +transported, glory be to God! An' you know, Mr. Alick, that's a proud +boast, an' what every one couldn't say.” + +“All I can say then, Mogue, is, that if you look upon that as an honor, +I have no objection that the fate should follow the family, and, I +suppose, neither have you.” + +“Well, indeed now, and that I may never die in sin, but I think it an +honor to oppose these Sassanagh laws; an', for that matther, to die +opposin' them; however, as to myself, Mr. Alick, I am by nature of a +peaceable, quiet turn, and not likely--” + +“To grace a gibbet, Mogue: well, I believe not; but what is this you +wish to say to me?” + +“One or two things then, sir. First, I hear that Mr. M'Carthy is comin' +down to stay wid the family here, bekaise they say it's going to be +attacked.” + +“Well, is it not both a friendly and a manly offer for him to make?” + +“Granted, Mr. Alick; but instead of help-in' you all to keep the danger +off, he'll only be the manes of bringin' it on; for as soon as it +becomes known that he's here, there will be ten enemies then for one +there is now against you. I happened to overhear a discoorse at the +chapel on Sunday last; and it's from that I'm givin' you my advice.” + +“I don't care a d--n,” said the impetuous young man, “about their +discourses at chapel. They go there more for the purpose of plotting +murders, and entering into illegal combinations, than for that of +praying sincerely or worshipping God! No; we despise and defy them.” + +“Well, then, Mr.--” + +“Silence, Mogue; not another word on that subject. I am obliged to you, +in the meantime, for you kindness, and the interest you feel for us.” + +“That my bed may be made in heaven, thin, but I do feel all you say; +and why shouldn't I? But I said I had a thing or two to mention, an' +although it goes against my heart to say it, still I like your family +too well, not to throw you out a hint upon it. 'Tis regardin' Jerry +Joyce, ay--an' Mr. M'Carthy too, sir.” + +“Jerry Joyce and M'Carthy; well, what about them? Jerry's a rollicking +shallow fool, but honest, I think.” + +“Well, Mr. Alick, this is to be buried between you and me. I say, don't +trust him; an' as for M'Carthy, it doesn't become the likes o' me to +disparage him; but if there's not a traitor to this family in his coat, +I'm not here. It's purty well known that he's a Whiteboy; he was a +caravat it seems, two years agone, and was wid ould _Paudeen Gar_ when +Hanly was hanged for--” + +“And who was Paudeen Gar?” asked the other, interrupting him. + +“He was the head o' the Shanavests, and it so happened, that one Hanly, +who was head of the Moyle Bangers, as they wor called, was hanged only +for burnin' the house of a man that tuck a farm over another man's +head. Now the Shanavests and the Moyle Rangers, you see, bein' bitther +enemies, the Shanavests prosecuted Hanly for the burning, and on the +day of his execution, Paudeen Gar stayed under the gallows, and said +he wouldn't lave the place till he'd see the _caravat_ (* Carvat; +fact--such is their origin) put about Hanly's neck; an' from that out +the Moyle Bangers was never called anything but Caravats.” + +“But what does Shanavest mean?” + +“It manes an ould waistcoat; that is, it's the Irish for an ould +waistcoat, and Paudeen Gar's men were called Shanavests, bekaise when +they went out to swear the people against tithes and priests' dues, they +put ould waistcoats about them for fraid o' bein' known.” + +“And you tell me that McCarthy's a White-boy?” + +“Wasn't he a night wid them? and didn't he come home in the mornin' wid +his face blackened?” + +“Well, but he accounted very satisfactorily for that.” + +“I'm a friend to your family, Mr. Alick; and what I tell you is thrue; +an' by the same token, Miss Julia isn't safe in the one house wid him.” + +“Come, come, Mogue, don't attempt' to make any illusion of that kind. +You are an honest but over-anxious fool, and like many a one in this +world, would make mountains out of mole-hills.” + +“Well, sir,” replied Mogue, somewhat downcast, “when the time comes I'll +let you know why I say so. Don't trust either o' them, I say, for the +present, at any rate; for I hope soon to know more about them.” + +“Well, then, Mogue,” said Alick, laughing, “I'll keep my eye on them.” + +“Do so, sir; an' as I'm spakin' to you as a friend that you may trust, +I tell you, Mr. Alick, that although I'm quiet, as I said a while agone, +still as there's likely to be danger to your family, I'd wish to help +you to meet it, and to do whatever little I could in your defence--I +would, indeed; but you know, Mr. Alick, I can't do that so long as +I'm kept sleepin' in the out-houses. If I was allowed any kind of +a shake-down in the house, I could do a good deal in the way of +assistance. I could help you to load your fire-arms, or I could take +charge of the ladies, and many other thing that I couldn't do out o' the +house, so that was all I had to say to you, Mr. Alick.” + +“Thank you, Mogue; I really feel obliged to you; and I shall think +over what you have said to me. If we admit any stranger to sleep in the +house, with the exception of Mr. M'Carthy, you shall be the man; I will +promise you that much, conditionally.” + +“And not a word of what I hinted about Jerry?” + +“You need not be at all uneasy on that score; as I said, I shall keep +my eye on him. We must now go to prepare for this auction, which, of +course, so far as we are concerned, will be both an unpleasant and +unprofitable affair. Go, then, and get the horses. We have also some +processes to serve, and it will be necessary that we should see the +bailiffs, to give them proper instructions, and directions to the houses +on which they are to serve them.” + +“Is Mr. O'Driscol goin' wid you, sir?” + +“No, Mogue,” replied Alick, laughing, “ever since the country has risen, +as he calls it, Mr. O'Driscol. has lost his health. Indeed, ever since +the day he was attacked at Philpot's Corner, by the four black faces, a +fact which he has dignified with the name of insurrection, he has taken +no active part in public life. He does nothing now but correspond with +his friend the Castle, as he says.” + +The morning on which this conversation took place was a dull, gloomy +one, about the middle of December. It did not rain, but the weather had +been dark and desolate in character for above a week before; in fact, +of that cheerless description which represses animal spirits, +and superinduces upon the mind impressions that are dreary and +disheartening. + +A chief constable of police, accompanied by a body of forty men well +armed, started from near the proctor's house, in order to execute a +decree of the Court of Chancery, or rather to protect those who were +about to do so, by first holding an auction, and serving a process from +the same court afterwards, in another place. For the first mile or +so there was not much notice taken of them; a few boys only, and some +women, kept hooting and screaming at their heels as they went along. +Within about two miles or so of the place of their destination, men +began to appear upon the hills in increasing groups, and horns were soon +sounding in every direction. This, however, was not all; on reaching a +chapel, the bell began to ring, and, in a short time, as they advanced, +the bells of the whole country around them were pealing rapidly and with +violence. The crowds now began to coalesce, and to gather about them +in such a manner that they, kept them completely hemmed in; and in this +manner they proceeded, until they arrived at the premises on which the +auction was to be held. The peasantry were formidably armed with every +sort of weapon that the moment could supply; for, on such occasions as +this, the people never used fire-arms. These, carried in the open day, +might enable the police to know the persons of those who illegally +possessed them, and, consequently, get such individuals into trouble. +Their arms, on this occasion, consisted of pitchforks, spades, shovels, +scythes, bill-hooks, and heavy sticks, whilst it was observed that +several of those who carried these weapons in one hand, carried a round, +destructive stone about two or three pounds' weight, in the other. A +powerful man, who wore a sash across his shoulders, and a military +cap that was peaked so as to conceal his face, appeared as leader, and +seemed completely to direct and regulate their motions. The state of +tumult throughout and over the face of the country was indeed frightful, +and it is very likely that a chief constable and only forty police felt +the danger of their position and the utter inadequacy of their numbers, +either to carry the decrees of the law into execution, or to defend +themselves, with anything like success, against the burning ferocity of +the armed multitudes by whom they were surrounded. + +At length the auction commenced, and the first article put up for +competition was a fine heifer, but not an individual present would open +his lips to bid for her; and, on a little further examination, it was +ascertained that all the cattle had been branded with the word tithe, in +large and legible characters. The family on whom the execution was about +being levied, walked, about at their ease, and rather seemed to enjoy +the matter, as a triumph over law, than as a circumstance that was +calculated to depress or annoy them. They offered no obstruction; +neither did they, on the other hand, afford the slightest possible +facility to the officers of the law. They were strictly and to the +letter passive. + +The heifer alluded to having been put aside for want of a bidder, a fine +cow was put up, and all the usual cajoling and seductive provocations +to competition and purchase were held out, but in vain. Every nourish +of the bailiff, who acted as auctioneer, was lost, as it were, on empty +space, and might as well have been uttered in a desert. Butter-casks, +kitchen' vessels, and everything on which the impress could be affixed, +was marked with the hated brand of “tithe.” No one, however, would bid; +and when the bailiffs, on seeing that none present was either willing or +courageous enough to do so, began to bid themselves, the silence of the +people still remained unbroken. They then put up some furniture, all +of which was branded “tithe;” but, on purchasing it for another market, +they found that it was impossible to remove it, as neither horse nor +cart, nor any available vehicle for that purpose, could be had at +any cost. So far, therefore, the law and all its authority, supported +besides by a large body of constabulary, were completely defeated, and +it was obvious that, unless those on whom the perilous duty of executing +it fell, came provided with the means of removing the property, that is +to say, with horses, carts, and a body of military besides, every such +auction must terminate in failure. + +The shortness of the day, and the distance they had to go, when taken +in connection with the ferocious state of the people, prevented the +bailiffs and their protectors from serving the process, to which we have +alluded, on another party. It was therefore determined on to abandon the +property for the present, and execute the service on the following day. + +The next morning opened with the same dull, dark, and desolute +appearance, as did the preceding. On this occasion, there was no +auction to hold and but one process to serve, only a single bailiff was +necessary. No diminution, however, was made in the number-of police who +attended; and, indeed, the party selected for the service of this day +ought rather to have been increased, inasmuch as the bailiff in question +had rendered himself so justly obnoxious to the people, that it +was fatuity itself to suppose that, smarting as they were under the +scoundrel's wanton and obscene insults, it was possible they would +suffer him to escape. The party had, consequently, no sooner set out, +than the horns once more began to blow, the bells to ring, and the whole +country around to stir into tumult and action. The same arms as we haye +already mentioned were in requisition, with some old pike-handles, and +an occasional rusty pike or two that may have seen service in '98. + +On the previous day the people had resolved to maintain an armed +neutrality, and to observe, unless attacked, the spirit of passive +resistance in its strictest sense. Now, however, the man who, confiding +in and abusing the protection and authority of the Court of Chancery, +had so grossly insulted them by language that was both indecent and +unchristian; who had not only attacked their want of morals, but +ridiculed their religion;--this person, we say, was within their grasp, +and let what might be the result, they were determined, to a man, “_to +have the process-server or blood_” for such was the expression. The +people now shouted, and had evidently made up their minds, not only to +secure the process-server, but to attack the police themselves, at any +risk. Such was the apprehension of this, that their officer deemed it +necessary to halt his party, and order them to prime and load, which +they did. Whilst they halted, so did the assailants; but, upon resuming +their march to the house of the tithe-defaulter, the crowds, who were +every moment increasing in number and in fury, resumed their march also, +gradually closing upon and coming nearly into contact with them. Indeed, +they were now so close, that the object of all this preparation, and +concert, and motion, could be distinctly ascertained from their language +and demeanor. Ever and anon there arose from them, extending far and +wide over the country, one general cry and exclamation, accompanied by +menacing gestures and blazing eyes:-- + +“The process-server or Blood!--Butler or blood!” + +This unfortunate individual, having put a copy of the process under the +door, took his place in the centre of the police, who turned to the left +of the house for the purpose of retreating; and it is to be deplored +that the retreat in question was not conducted with more discipline and +judgment. + +On this occasion, as well as on that of the preceding day, the same +person who acted as the popular leader was present, dressed as before, +in a sash, and peaked cap that concealed the greater portion of his +countenance, which was, besides, otherwise disguised. On arriving at the +defaulter's house, this man took off his sash, lest it might make him a +more conspicuous object for the police, in case of a recounter, and put +it into his pocket, from which one end of it, however, protruded. Two +other leaders held subordinate rank under him, a circumstance which +gave to the whole proceedings a character of premeditated concert, and +deliberation. + +From the house of the defaulter, the police, encircling the +process-server, proceeded in a certain direction to a place called +Tennison's Gate; but so closely were they now pressed upon by the +multitude that they were obliged to keep them off with their bayonets. +Their threats, their increasing numbers, and their irrepressible fury, +now excited such alarm in the minds of the police, that one of them, +calling to his officer, entreated him to take them into the open field, +where alone their arms could afford them protection; or if not, he +added, that they must fall a sacrifice to the vengeance of their +enemies. At that instant, two or three of the leaders of the people were +in commotion with that gentleman, one of them resting his hand upon +his horse's neck, and the other so close to him that his words could be +distinctly heard. + +“Captain G----s,” said the latter, “don't be afraid--meek yourself +aisy--not a hair of your head, nor any of the police, will be touched; +we only want the process-server; let him be given up, and you will be +safe.” + +“Sooner than give him up to you,” he replied, “we will, every man of us, +part with our lives. Sacrifice us you may, but we will never surrender +our charge.” + +Instead, however, of following the sound advice of one of his own men, +the chief constable, credulous to infatuation, allowed the infuriated +body, by which he and his men were surrounded, still to press in upon +him, without taking those precautions which common sense, coolness, and +the insecurity of his position, should have dictated. + +By the time they had passed the place called Tennison's Gate, a large +body had collected in their front, blocking up the road they had to +pass, and which would have conducted, them in a different direction, but +not one so peculiarly perilous. From this they made a turn to the left +into a lane that would have led them back again to a little village, +through which they had already passed, the bell of which was already +sounding their death-knell. The constabulary, by turning into the narrow +lane at the left, unconsciously approached the very ambush into which +the people, or rather their more disciplined leaders, had intended to +decoy them. This lane was enclosed by walls, and on one side the ground +was considerably elevated and covered with stones, thus affording +to their assailants every possible opportunity of completing their +destruction. The unfortunate men were pressed by a crowd on their right, +composed of those who occupied the elevation; another crowd pressed upon +their rear; whilst a third body obstructed them in front, thus keeping +them pent up, and at the mercy of the crowds on every side. + +It is quite obvious that the person in command of the constabulary was +not only unfit for his duty, but ignorant of anything like military +discipline or manoeuvring. He must have completely lost his presence +of mind, otherwise his easiness of belief and simplicity are utterly +unaccountable. As it was, in two or three minutes after the hollow +assurances of good-will uttered by those whom he saw bristling at the +same time with vengeance about him, an effort was made by a man to drag +the unfortunate process-server out of the lines. He was immediately +pulled back by a policeman, but was scarcely restored to his place, When +he was struck on the side of the head with a wattle. The blow caused him +to stagger, and would have caused him to fall, but that he was seized +and kept upon his legs by the policeman. He had not time, however, to +recover his steadiness, when he was felled to the ground by a blow from +a stone, which sent him to the ground a corpse. A general assault with +every description of rude and formidable weapons, now commenced upon the +unfortunate constabulary. Their imbecile and uncautious officer fired +his pistol and in a moment afterwards was knocked from his horse and +instantly put to death. The crowd now rushed on them from all sides, and +so sharp, short, and decisive was the massacre, that in about the space +of two minutes, twelve men lay butchered on the spot. + +Other scenes of violence and bloodshed there were, but none so frightful +as the above. Most persons remember Rathcormac and Newtonbarry, but we +do not imagine that a recapitulation of such atrocities can be at all +agreeable to the generality of our readers, and for this reason we +content ourselves with barely alluding to them, as a corroboration of +the disorganized condition of society which then existed, and which we +are now attempting to describe. + +But perhaps nothing, after all, can test the inextinguishable hatred +of tithes which prevailed at that period, more than the startling and +almost incredible fact that the government, aided by as sound a lawyer, +and as able an attorney-general as ever lived, and a powerful bar +besides, were not able, during the following spring and summer assizes, +to convict a single individual concerned in this massacre, which is now +a portion of our country's history, and still well remembered as that of +Carrickshock, in the county of Kilkenny. + +This double triumph of the people over the tithe and police, created a +strong sensation throughout the kingdom, and even shook the two houses +of parliament with dismay. + +Indeed, there probably never existed in Ireland, any combination or +confederacy of the people so bitter, or with such a deeply-rooted +hold upon the popular mind as that against tithes, as it slumbered +and revived from time to time. And what is rather singular, too, the +frequent agitations arising from it, which in its periodical returns +convulsed the country, were almost uniformly, or at least very +frequently, productive of a collateral one against priests' dues. Up +until the year '31, however, or '32, the agitators against tithes were +more for their reduction than their extinction. The reduction of tithes +and priests' dues went, as we have said, very frequently together, or +rather the one generally produced the other. The Threshers, in their +early existence, were as active in their attempts to diminish the income +of the priests by intimidation, as they were that of the parson. Their +plan was, with white shirts over their clothes, and white handkerchiefs +round their hats so as to conceal the features, to pay a nightly visit +to some quiet and timid man, whom they swore, on pain of death, to visit +the neighboring chapel in order to inform the priest, in the face of +his own congregation, that unless he reduced the fees for marriage +to half-a-guinea, those of baptism to nineteen-pence half-penny, and +celebrate Mass for thirteen pence, he might prepare his coffin. If he +got hay and oats for his horse at a station, he was at liberty to take +them, but if not, he was to depart quietly, on pain of smarting for +it. The unfortunate individuals on whom they imposed this painful and +dangerous duty, were much to be pitied whilst this confederacy lasted. +To submit to an illegal oath, without reporting the matter to the next +magistrate, was a capital felony, as it was voluntarily to execute any +of their criminal behests. If, then, the unfortunate individual pitched +upon for the performance of this extraordinary office refused to +discharge it, he was probably shot by the Threshers or Carders, and if +he carried their wishes into effect, he was liable to be hanged by the +government, so that his option lay between the relative comforts of +being hanged or shot--a rather anomalous state of society, by the way. + +The vengeance of the people against Purcel and his sons had now risen +or was fast rising, to its height. This intrepid man and these +resolute young men, aided by the writs of rebellion and the executive +authorities, had nerved themselves up to the collection of tithe, +through a spirit that was akin to vengeance. In fact, they felt an +inhuman delight--at least the father and his eldest son did--in levying +the execution of the writs in the most pitiless and oppressive manner. +They themselves provided horses and carts, and under protection of the +military and police--for both were now necessary--they swept off cattle, +crops, and furniture, at a ruinous value to the defaulters. At length +they proceeded to the house of a struggling widow, whose only son, +exasperated at the ruin which their proceedings had wrought upon his +mother, in an unguarded moment, induced a few thoughtless boys like +himself to resist the law. It was an act of folly for which his life +paid the penalty. He was shot dead on the spot, and his death proved the +signal for raising the gloomy curtain that veils the last of the drama +in which the tithe-proctor makes his appearance. + +Soon after the death of this youth, John Parcel had occasion to go to +Dublin, to transact some business with the Rev. Dr. Turbot, and on his +way to the metropolis he was obliged to stop for more than an hour at +the county town, to await the arrival of the mail-coach. As he lingered +about the door of the coach-office, he noticed a crowd of persons +corning down the street, bearing something that resembled a human figure +on a beir. It was evidently the corpse of some person, but at the same +time he felt it could not have been a funeral, inasmuch as he saw that +it came from the churchyard instead of going to it. The body was covered +with a mort-cloth, so that he could not ascertain whether it was that +of a man or a woman. Walking at its head as a chief mourner does at +a funeral, was an old man with gray hair, who appeared to have every +feature of his venerable countenance impressed with the character of an +affliction which no language could express. He neither spoke nor looked +to either side of him, but walked onward in a stupor of grief that was +evidently too deep for tears--for he shed none, his face was pale even +unto ghastliness, whilst at the same time there was a darkness over it, +which evidently proceeded from the gloom of a broken down and hopeless +heart. + +John Purcel, after making some inquiry as to the cause of this singular +procession, was enabled, from several of the by-standers, to ascertain +the following affecting and melancholy particulars. The reader cannot +forget the conversation between the proctor and his sons, concerning +the murder of a certain farmer named Murray, in the early part of this +narrative. The poor youth who had been appointed, under the diabolical +system of Whiteboyism, to perpetrate that awful crime, was the very +young man who, during the journey of the Whiteboys to the mountains, had +held a kind of _sotto voce_ conversation with the mysterious person +who proved himself to be so sincere a friend to Frank M'Carthy. A +misunderstanding for several years, or rather a feeling of ill-will, had +subsisted between his father and Murray, and as this circumstance was +known, the malignant and cowardly miscreants availed themselves of it to +give a color of revenge to the murder, in order to screen themselves. +At all events, the poor misguided youth, who had been stimulated with +liquor, and goaded on to the commission of the crime, from fear of a +violent death if he refused it, was tried, found guilty, and executed, +leaving his childless father and mother, whose affections were centred +in him, in a state of the most indescribable despair and misery. By the +intercession and influence of friends, his body was restored to them, +and interred in the churchyard, from which the procession just mentioned +had issued. The heart, however--or to come nearer the truth--the reason +of the mother--that loving mother--could not bear the blow that deprived +her of her innocent boy--her pride, her only one. In about a week after +his interment she proceeded one morning to his grave, bearing with her +the breakfast which the poor youth had been accustomed to take. This, in +fact, became her daily habit, and here she usually sat for hours, until +in most cases her woe-stricken husband, on missing her, was obliged, +by some pardonable fiction, to lure her home under the expectation +of seeing him. This continued during spring, summer, autumn, and the +greater portion of winter--up in fact until the preceding night. She +had, some time during the course of that night, escaped from her poor, +husband while he slept, and having entered the grave-yard by stone steps +that were in a part of the wall--for a passage went through it--she +reached her boy's grave, where it was supposed, after having for some +time, probably until lassitude and sorrow, and a frame worn down by her +peculiar calamity, had induced sleep--she was found dead in the course +of the morning--an afflicting but beautiful instance of that undying +love of a mother's heart, which survives the wreck of all the other +faculties that compose her being. + +Her miserable husband and friends were then bearing her body home, +in order that it might be waked decently and with due respect, ere it +should mingle with the ashes of him whom she had loved so well. So much +for the consequences of being concerned in those secret and criminal +confederacies, that commit such fatal ravages, not only in society, but +in domestic life, and stand so strongly opposed to the laws of both God +and man. + +Purcel, on reaching the metropolis, was a great deal astonished at the +change which he observed in Dr. Turbot. That gentleman's double chin had +followed the carnal fortunes of the church that supported it. The rosy +dewlap, in fact, was no longer visible, if we except a slight pendulous +article, which defied the whole nomenclature of colors to classify its +tint, and was only visible when his head and neck assumed a peculiar +attitude. In fact, the change appeared to Purcel to have been an +exceedingly beneficial one. The gross carnal character of his whole +appearance was gone; his person had become comparatively thin, and had +a far and distant, but still an approximating, tendency to something +of the apostolic. He was now leading by compulsion, a reasonable and +natural life, and one not so much at variance with the simple +principles of his religion, whatever it might be with those of the then +establishment. His horses and carriages and powdered servants were all +gone too, so was the rich air of wealth and costly luxury which formerly +breathed throughout his fine mansion, in one of the most fashionable +streets of the metropolis. His eye, no longer loaded by the bloodshot +symptoms of an over-fed and plethoric constitution, was now clear and +intellectual, and there appeared to be an unencumbered activity about +his jaws that argued a vigor and quickness of execution in matters of +a sumptuary character, which, when gross and unwieldy from luxury, they +never could reach. He was by no means in his usual spirits, it is true, +but then he was in much better health, and a vague report of something +in the shape of a loan to the clergy, to the tune of a million, gave him +a considerable degree of cheerfulness. + +John Purcel, having dispatched his business with him as quickly as he +could, called upon M'Carthy in college. This gentleman having, in fact, +heard such an account of the threats and determinations of vengeance +with which the Purcel family were threatened, had felt deep anxiety as +to their fate. He had written more than once to them on the subject, +entreating that, as their wealth had rendered them independent, they +would remove either to Lisnagola or Dublin. This, however, was a +determination to which they had come recently themselves, and one +portion of John's business to the metropolis was connected with it. + +On the day previous to Purcel's visit to M'Carthy, that young man had +received the following short and somewhat mysterious communication from +the country:-- + +“Mr. M'Carthy.--Sir--If you wish to save some of Mr. Purcel's +family--save them all you cannot--and if you have courage, and isn't +afraid to risk your life, you will come down to Longshot Lodge and wait +there till you here more from 'One that has proved himself your Friend'.” + +This determined M'Carthy; and when John Purcel asked him to spend the +Christmas with them, he felt gratified at the alacrity with which the +other embraced his offer. The next morning they started for Longshot +Lodge, and in due time were cordially greeted by the proctor and his +family. + +The day before Christmas--universally known as Christmas Eve--at length +arrived. On that morning, our friend Mr. Temple and his family were +seated at breakfast with easy and cheerful hearts, when the following +conversation took place; and we introduce it for the purpose of +gratifying our readers, who, we are certain, will rejoice in hearing the +circumstances that form its subject matter. + +“Charles, my dear, I always knew that my dear grandpapa was a kind and +forgiving man; and, to tell the truth, I felt a conviction that such +sincerity of heart, and such unexampled purity of purpose as yours, +would not be permitted long to suffer. Read the letter again my love.” + +Her husband, whose mild features were absolutely radiant with an +expression of delight--an expression that was elevated, besides, with a +glow of fervent and devotional feeling--now read the letter again, which +was to the following effect:-- + +“My dear Maria,--I do not think that a man of my years--now near +seventy-two--who feels how many duties he has neglected in this life, +and who, consequently, knows how much he requires to be forgiven, ought +any longer to class himself with those who are disposed to withhold +their pardon from human error. I wrote some time ago to your father, +requesting, nay, commanding him, to suffer himself to be reconciled to +you; but his reply was, that, although he was not averse to it in due +time, yet he said that for the present he must decline it--not so much, +he added, for want of affection for you, as that he might the more +strongly manifest a sense of his displeasure at your conduct, in +throwing yourself away upon an 'educated beggar.'” + +The hectic of a moment, as Sterne beautifully says, came across his +fine and handsome features as he uttered the words; and he added, +“He forgets, my love, that my family is not, as your grandpapa says, +inferior to his own.” + +“Do not dwell on that, dearest Charles,” she added, “but let us hear +good old grandpapa out.” + +“No, my dear Maria, I differ with your papa; Mr. Temple was not an +educated beggar, but an educated and accomplished gentleman, whose +family, in point of blood and birth; is equal even to ours. Still, my +love, you know that on many accounts, and as persons to whom you were so +justly dear, and who felt such a strong interest in your settlement and +position in life, we had reason to feel offended at the step you took in +marrying him. That, however, is past--and now let it be forgotten. Your +papa still loves you tenderly, my Maria; for I could observe that in a +passage where he said it was necessary that you should suffer a little +longer, there were the marks of tears--and of tears too, that fell +thickly. Now, however, for something that will cheer my own favorite. +I have succeeded in getting Mr. Temple appointed to the living of +Ballynolan, in a safe and quiet part of the country, not many miles from +Drumgooran Castle.” + +“That you know my dear Charles, is his own family seat.” + +“I know, my love, it is; however, to proceed--from Drumgooran Castle; +so that I will once more enjoy the pleasure of having you near me.. The +living is worth about five hundred a-year, after paying two curates and +all other claims; so that, with frugality and moderation, you may +live comfortably at least. Ah! my dear Maria, you knew the avenue to +grandpapa's affections, when you called your eldest son after him. +Present him with the enclosed, in my name, and tell Mr. Temple that +he shall have a communication from me in a few days--it will be one +of business; and I trust soon to have the pleasure of making his +acquaintance. + +“I am, my dear Maria, your ever affectionate grandfather, + +“TAVNIMORE.” + +The enclosure alluded to was a bank post-bill for two hundred pounds. +It is unnecessary, however, to dwell upon the happiness which this +communication conferred upon Mrs. Temple and her affectionate family. +She saw her accomplished and amiable husband's brilliant talents and +many rare virtues, about to be rewarded--she saw poverty, distress, and +famine driven from their hearth--she saw her beloved children about +to be placed in circumstances not unbecoming their birth; and, having +contemplated all this, she wept once more with a sense of happiness, as +pure as it was unexpected. + +Breakfast was now over--a plain and severely frugal one, by the way, it +was--and her husband was about to proceed to Lisnisgola, in order to get +the bank post-bill changed, when, from the parlor where they sat, he saw +the _Cannie Soogah_ approaching the hall-door, the huge pack, as usual, +on his shoulder. + +“Here, my love, comes that benevolent pedlar,” he exclaimed, “whose +conduct, on the occasion you mentioned, was at once so delicate and +generous.” + +He then stepped to the window, and raised it as our friend approached, +who, on seeing him, put his hand to his hat, exclaiming, “Many happy +returns of the saison, sir, to you and your family! My Christmas-box on +you!” + +“I thank you, my friend,” replied Mr. Temple, “and I sincerely wish you +the same.” + +Mrs. Temple now approached also, bent her head kindly and +condescendingly, in token of salutation, with a blush which she could +not prevent. The worthy pedlar perfectly understood the blush--a +circumstance by which he was a good deal embarrassed himself, and +which occasioned him to feel in rather a difficult position. He felt +flattered, however, by her condescension; and instead of merely touching +his hat to her he pulled it off and stood respectfully uncovered. + +“Put on your hat, my friend,” said Temple; “the morning is too cold to +stand with a bare head--pray put it on.” + +“I know, your honor,” replied the pedlar, “the respect that is due to +you both, and especially, sir,” he added, in that tone, and with that +peculiar deference, so gratifying to a husband who loves and is proud of +his wife--“especially, sir, to her, for I know her family well--as who +doesn't!” + +“By the way,” said Mrs. Temple, “I think you committed a mistake on the +occasion of your last call here?” + +“A mistake, ma'am!” said he, with well-feigned surprise--“well, indeed, +ma'am, it's not unlikely; for, to tell you the truth, I've a vile +mimory--sorra thing a'most but I disremimber, in a day or two after it +happens.” + +“Do you not remember,” she proceeded, with a melancholy smile, “a +negotiation we had when you were here last?” + +“A what, ma'am?” + +“A--a--purchase you made from me,” she added. + +“From you!” he exclaimed, with apparent astonishment; “well, then, I +can't say that I have any recollection of it--I remember something--that +is, some dalins or other I had wid the maid, but I don't remember +purchasin' anything from you, ma'am.” + +“It was a shawl,” she replied, “which you purchased, if you remember, +and paid for, but which you forgot to bring with you.” + +“Why, then,” he exclaimed, after rubbing his head with his fore-finger, +“bad cess to me if I can remimber it; but the truth is, ma'am, I make +so many purchases, and so many sales, that like the priest and them that +confess to him, the last thing fairly drives the one that went afore it +out o' my head.” + +“You paid six guineas,” continued Mrs. Temple, “for the shawl, but left +it behind you.” + +“Well, bedad, ma'am,” said the pedlar, smiling, “it's aisy to see that +you're no rogue, at any rate. In the present case, thin,” he added, “I +suppose you wish to give me the shawl?” + +“Oh, certainly,” she replied, “if you wish for it; but at the same time +I would much rather keep the shawl and return you the money.” + +“I'm in no hurry, ma'am for either shawl or money, if it isn't--hem--if +it isn't just convanient.” + +“You are an honest, sterling fellow,” said her husband, “and I assure +you that we thoroughly appreciate your delicacy and worth. I know Mrs. +Temple would prefer keeping the shawl, and if you will call in the +course of the evening, I shall return the money to you. I must first go +into Lisnagola to get change for a note.” + +“Thank you, sir,” replied the Cannie, “but it is time enough--I am in no +hurry at all--not the laist; it will do when I call again.. And now that +that's settled--and many thanks to you, ma'am,” he added, bowing to Mrs. +Temple, “for thinkin' of it, I'd be glad to have a word or two wid you, +sir, if you plaise.” + +“Certainly,” said Mr. Temple, going to the hall-door, and opening it, +“come in a moment; leave your pack in the hall there, and come this +way.” + +He then proceeded to the library, whither the pedlar followed him; and +after looking about him with something like caution, he said, “You know +Mr. Purcel, the proctor, sir?” + +“Of course I do,” replied Mr. Temple. + +“I'm not askin' it as a question,” he proceeded; “but I wish to say, +that as you do know him and his sons, it's possible you may save them +from destruction. I was tould by a stranger that I never seen before, +and that I didn't know from Adam, that his house is to be attacked +either this night or to-morrow night.” + +“Can you not say which?” asked Mr. Temple. + +“No,” replied the Cannie Soogah; “I axed the stranger the same question, +and he couldn't tell me. Now, sir, you know them, and I know how much +they respect you; and the thing is this,--I think if you'd see them, and +thry to get them to go to Lisnagola, or some safe place, takin' their +lives and money along wid them, you'd save them from murdher; they'd be +apt to listen to you; but as for me, or the likes o' me, they'd laugh +at me; indeed, they're rather wishin' for an attack, in hopes they might +get revenge upon the people, for, to tell you the truth, they've been +foolish enough to say so; an' as their words has gone abroad, the +people's determined, it seems, to let them know which o' them is +strongest.” + +“Well,” replied the curate, “I am sorry to hear this--it is dreadful. +That they are unpopular--nay, detested--I know; as I do, also, that they +have latterly gone daring lengths--oppressive and unjustifiable lengths +--in collecting tithes. I shall, however, see them, and endeavor to make +them take refuge in some place of security.” + +“It will be a good act,” said the pedlar, “and if I can do anything, +humble as I am, to save them, I'll do it.” + +“I think they ought to get a party of police to protect the house,” + observed Mr. Temple. + +“I know they ought, sir,” replied the pedlar, “but the truth is, they're +so proud and foolhardy, that the very mention of such a thing throws +them into a fury.” + +“That is unfortunate,” said the other. “At all events, I shall leave +nothing undone within my power to prevail on them to take steps for +their security. You may rely on it,” he added, “that whatever I can do +for that purpose, I shall do.” + +“Well, now,” said the Cannie, “my mind, thank God's, aisier. I'll lose +no time myself in seein' what I can do to prevent this business; that +is, I mane, their stayin' in the house,” he added, as if checking or +correcting himself. + +He then bade Mr. Temple good morning, and hurried away, without waiting +to see his fair friend, Lilly, as was his custom to do. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII.--Midnight Court of Justice + +--Sentence of the Proctor and His Sons. + +Breakfast in the proctor's, on the morning of Christmas Eve, was eaten +as if it had been a funeral meal. The proctor himself could not raise +his spirits, which were generally high and cheerful. John and Alick +were much more serious than usual; and were it not for the presence of +M'Carthy, the meal in question would have been a very gloomy one indeed. +Even M'Carthy himself felt the influence of the spirit that prevailed, +and found that all his attempts to produce cheerfulness or mirth among +them were by no means successful. The two sons, as if acting under the +influence of some unaccountable presentiment, engaged themselves in +casting bullets for the fire-arms with which the house was furnished, +whilst M'Carthy spent his time with the ladies, and endeavored to amuse +them as well as ha could. About twelve o'clock John rode into the town +of Lisnagola to bring home a blunderbuss which he had sent the day +before, by Mogue Moylan, for the purpose of having it furnished with a +new ramrod. Mogue being engaged in some matters of a pressing nature, +John determined to go for it himself, especially as he wanted to lay in +a better supply of powder. Of this Mogue knew nothing. + +Mr. Temple soon made his appearance, but, as the pedlar feared, the +object of his visit was not attended with success. He urged all the +arguments in his power upon the proctor and his son Alick, to remove +instantly, and at once, to Lisnagola, or some other neighboring town, +where, for the present, they might be safe. Instead of listening to the +argument of instant removal, they laughed it to scorn. In the course of +the following week, they said, it was their intention to remove; but to +think of breaking up their family on a Christmas Eve, with a guest in +their house too!--the thing was out of the question. A few days made no +great difference; and their mind was fixed not to disturb their family +or their guest, then. + +Soon after Mr. Temple had gone, Julia Purcel met M'Carthy in the hall, +and asked him for a moment to the dining-room, in a voice which was +tremulous with agitation. + +“Alas! Frank,” she exclaimed, whilst the tears streamed from her eyes, +“I feel a weight like that of death upon my heart. I fear there is some +dreadful calamity hanging over this family.” + +“Why, my dear Julia,” he replied, wiping the tears from her eyes, “will +you suffer yourself to be overcome by a weakness of mind so unworthy +of you? The morning is dark and gloomy, and calculated, apart from +such silly anticipations--pardon me, Julia--to fill the mind with low +spirits. Cheer up, my dear girl; is not this season, in a peculiar +manner, set apart for cheerfulness and enjoyment? Why, then, will you +indulge in this weak and foolish melancholy?” + +“I would not feel as I do,” she replied, “but the truth is--now do not +scold me, Frank--in fact I had an omen of calamity last night!” + +“An omen! how is that?” he asked. “On bidding my papa and John +goodnight, as I was going to bed, about eleven o'clock, I saw them both +standing below me at the foot of the stairs, in the hall. I started, +and turning again into the drawing-room, where I had just left them, +saw that there they certainly stood, without scarcely having had time to +change their position.” + +“A mere physical illusion, my dear Julia; nothing else.” + +“But is it not said,” she added, “that to see the likeness of an +individual late at night is an omen of almost immediate death?” + +“It has been said so, I admit, my dear Julia, as have fifty thousand +follies equally nonsensical. But to hear you, Julia, talk in this +manner! upon my word, I'm surprised at it.” + +“You will not think of leaving us, dear Frank, until we get to a place +of safety?” + +“Unquestionably not; but you are alarming yourself unnecessarily.” + +“Well, perhaps I am,” she said, gaining confidence from his firmness of +manner; “but I assure you, Frank, I am not timid, nor a coward. I +can load a gun, pistol, or blunderbuss, and what is better still, can +discharge them without shrinking; so can my sister; but with respect to +anything of a supernatural character--” + +“You are a great coward. I perceive that; but, my dear Julia, to pass to +a subject of the deepest interest to my happiness:--why is it that there +has been an appearance of gloom and distrust about you for such a +length of time? I think there should be nothing but the most unbounded +confidence between us.” + +“Have you been perfectly candid with me, Frank?” + +“If you remember, dear Julia, you did not afford me an opportunity. +You looked as if you felt offended, and I could perceive that you had +withdrawn your confidence.” + +“My mind is too much distracted now,” she replied, “to speak on this +subject; but, if you wish it, I shall tell you, on Monday next, why I +have appeared so.” + +“Wish it! alas! my dear Julia, I can only say that my affection for you +knows no bounds. Julia, you know I have loved you; and, happen what +may, I shall carry that affection for you to my grave. Only say that +the affection which you have already confessed for me is not cooled or +diminished; only say it, dearest life, and you will relieve my heart of +a heavy load.” + +She fixed her beautiful dark eyes upon him, as if she were in the act of +scrutinizing his very spirit; at length, she seemed to have arrived at a +fixed conclusion; two or three tears slowly followed each other down +her cheeks, and she replied, “I fear, Frank, I have been led to do you +injustice; that is, to doubt your truth or your honor; yes,” she added, +in a low confiding voice, “I feel that I love you as I ever did. But I +am depressed, and my heart is full of an unaccountable sorrow.” + +“My ever--ever dear--dearest Julia!” he exclaimed, as he pressed her to +his heart; where she sobbed, and tenderly reacknowledged her love. “On +Monday, however,” she observed, after having somewhat composed herself, +“I shall tell you, at full length, the circumstances that have disturbed +me with respect to you.” Another kiss as they separated, and so it was +arranged between them. + +When Mogue Moylan heard that John purcel had gone to the gunsmith's for +the blunderbluss, he stealthily sought the barn where he slept, and, +putting on a great frieze coat, he went to the haggard; approached the +stack, and thrusting his hand up the thatch, secured a case of pistols +that had been left with him and Jerry Joyce for their defence, and +fixing them under his coat, deliberately took his departure. + +“I'll have betther luck,” he said to himself, “to join the boys, and as +I have my own party among them that'll stand to me, we'll have the best +chance. I'm to take charge o' the girls for him, after the men's shot; +an' it'll go hard if I don't do him out o' the one he's set upon. If I +sted in the house, as I intended at first, maybe it's a bullet from the +boys I'd get into me. No--no--every way--think of it as I will, it's +my wisest plan to cut; an' at any rate, he'd find me out now about the +blunderbuss. Have her, however, I will, or lose a fall for it.” + +This was Mogue's last appearance but one about the proctor's +establishment. + +John Purcel, on inquiring for the blunderbuss at the gunmaker's heard +that Mogue had waited until the ramrod was put in, after which the +man said he brought it home; a fact which Purcel never doubted. On the +contrary, he felt annoyed at his own stupidity for not having asked +Mogue the question before he went; and he consequently blamed himself +more than he did Mogue. On his way home, however, he met Mogue; and it +is necessary to state that none of the Purcel family returned to their +house, for a considerable time past, by the same way, unless indeed very +rarely. Mogue had come out upon the road, which he was crossing just as +John turned a corner, and came plump upon him. + +“What is the reason, Mogue,” he asked, “That you didn't let me know you +had brought home the blunderbuss?” + +“That I may be happy, Mr. John, but it was bekaise you didn't ax me; an' +a beautiful new ramrod it has now, at any rate.” + +“Where are you bound for, Mogue?” + +“Why, up to Harry Sproule's for paper and writin' things for the ladies. +Any news in Lisnagola, Mr. John?” + +“Nothing that's good, at any rate,” replied the other; “except that the +country, Mogue, must be put under martial law.” + +He set spurs to his horse on uttering these words, and immediately rode +on. + +“Ay,” said Mogue, as he looked bitterly after him, “there you go, you +blasted tyrant! + +“Martial law! Ah, if I had her from among you, I didn't care the divil's +blazes had you all, as they will soon; an' that may be, I pray Jasus +this day! Martial law! ah, bad luck to you!” + +On reaching home, John Purcel made no immediately inquiry about the +blunderbuss, having taken it for granted that all was right, nor was +Mogue's disappearance or treachery at all suspected, until late in 'the +course of the night. + +Twilight was now setting in, when a strange man called at the proctor's +and said he wished to speak with Mr. M'Carthy. M'Carthy came to the +hall-door, and looking at him keenly inquired his business. + +“I don't know,” said the man; “I can only tell you what I was desired to +say to you.” + +“Well, let us hear even that,” said the other. + +“I was bid to ax you, if you wish to sarve this family.” + +“I do, most certainly.” + +“In that case, then, you're to follow me,” said the man. + +“I have no such intention, I assure you, my good fellow,” replied the +other. + +“Very well, then, I have done my duty,” said the man, turning to depart. + +“But,” said our friend, “will you not let me know who it was that sent +you.” + +“I tell you,” replied the stranger, “that I don't know. I was bid to +say to you that the hour is come, and the man, and that's all I know; +barrin' that as I said you wor bid to come wid me, if you wish to sarve +thia family. Now I must go.” + +“Stop a moment,” said M'Carthy, “till I return into the house, and let +them know I'm going out.” + +“No,” replied the other; “if you do, you won't find me here when you +come back. This instant, or never.” + +“To serve this family, you say?” + +“To sarve this family, I was bid to say. I know nothing, an' can say +nothing about it myself.” + +“Come, then,” said M'Carthy, resolutely, and thinking of the note he had +received in college, “I trust you, or rather I will trust the man +that sent you;” and having uttered these words, he departed with the +stranger. The scene now changes to a hill, three or four miles distant +from the proctor's house, called Crockaniska, at the foot of which was +a small but beautiful lake or tarn, from which a graceful little stream +fell down into a green and picturesque valley, that lay to the south +below it. The shades of evening were beginning to deepen, but for a +considerable time before, the road that went past it was observed to +be more than usually-thronged with men, some on foot and others on +horseback; all presenting a solemn and determined aspect, as if bent +upon some dangerous enterprise that must be accomplished, and all +apparently strangers to the inhabitants of the place, and to each other. +On the brow of the hill stood a picturesque ruin, and the hill itself +was literally covered with men and horses; for it was evident, by the +fatigued and travel-stained appearance of both, that they had come from +a far distance. After dusk had set in, the crowd assumed an appearance +of stern repose, but at the same time, and somewhat contrasting with +this dreadful stillness, pale lights might be seen flitting from time +to time through the ragged apertures, and vacant windows of the ruin. +Inside this dreary old building were those who, from the greater +respectability of their dress, appeared to be their leaders; men of +trust and authority among them, by whose will and opinions they were to +be guided. A table and chairs, provided on this occasion, were placed +for the transaction of business, and on these, after some proceedings, +conducted with a good deal of form, had been transacted, twelve +comfortably, if not well-dressed looking farmers sat, whilst on another +chair, considerably elevated above the rest, a person in the garb at +least of a gentleman, seemed to preside over, and regulate the business +of the night. + +After a short silence, the judge asked, in an audible voice, if there +was any business to be brought before “The Court of Right,” on that +occasion. He was immediately answered, in a solemn and almost melancholy +tone of voice, that there was a great deal of business before the court, +but that only one case, that of Captain Right against Purcel Senior and +sons, was for hearing and adjudication on that occasion. + +On hearing the name of Purcel, the judge took from his pocket a broad, +blood-red ribbon, as did also each of the twelve farmers who constituted +the jury, and having tied it about his left arm, in which they imitated +him, he composed himself for the resumption of business. The ribbons +were a twofold symbol, signifying, in the first place, that the Purcels +had shed the blood of the people, and were to be tried for murder; and +in the second, that if found guilty, the sentence of Captain Right would +exact from them the fearful penalty of blood for blood. A compact, well +knit, and intelligent young man, about twenty-six years of age, now rose +up, and unrolling a long scroll of paper, read in a low but distinct +voice, a long and dark series of charges preferred by the aforesaid +Captain Right against the said Matthew Purcel and his sons. That person, +on this occasion, was the representative of Captain Right. + +The judge then observed, that the charges must be proved to the +satisfaction of the jury, and called upon Captain Right's advocate to +substantiate them. It would spin out our description to a fatiguing +length, were we to go through all the cases of oppression, fraud, and +cruelty, that were brought home to the unfortunate proctor; against +whom, if we are to take him as the exponent of his heartless class, +every one of them was strictly true. + +He was found guilty, for instance, of taking--often beforehand, or +in reversion--several small farms over the heads of poor but solvent +tenants; turning them adrift on the world, and consolidating their +holdings into one large stock farm for grazing; there by adding to the +number of the destitute, and diminishing the supply of food for the +people. + +He was found guilty of paying to his laborers the wretched sum of only +eightpence a day; which he paid by the vile truck system--that is to say +by forcing them to take potatoes, milk, meal, &c, at nearly twice what +the same commodities brought in the open market. + +His sons were found guilty of insolence and cruelty, against such poor +and distressed persons as had occasion to go to the proctor's office, +for the purpose of asking indulgence, or time to meet their engagements. +Their insolence and cruelty consisted in giving abusive language to, +and horsewhipping them as if they were not men, or possessed of the same +rights, privileges, and feelings, as themselves. These were only a +few of the charges, involving petty tyranny, oppression, and rapacity, +against Purcel and his sons; but the last, and greatest, and most odious +of them all, was the ruin he had brought, upon so many, by his tithe +exactions, and the expenses he had heaped on them by processes of +law, in recovering that blood-stained impost, as it was not improperly +called. + +Those were all proved by witnesses, and although we must admit, that the +great body of the evidence was true, in point of fact, yet there was not +a word said, of the insolence, threatening language, falsehood, evasion, +and defiance, which Purcel and his sons had in general experienced from +the people, before they had been forced to have recourse, in matters of +tithe, to such harsh proceedings against them. When the case for Captain +Right was about to close, there was a slight stir, and a low indistinct +murmur ran through those who thronged the ruin. + +“There is another charge still to come,” said the young man who conducted +the prosecution; “we pass by the three massacres, and all the blood that +was shed in them; and all the sorrow and misery, and affliction that +they occasioned--we pass them by, I say, and to show all here present +that we are not like Purcel and his sons, resolved to avail ourselves of +any advantage against those we prosecute, I will just confine myself to +one case of murder, instead of many--because you all know, that if they +are found guilty upon one count, it will be sufficient for our purpose. +Widow Flanagan, come up and prove your sorrowful case.” + +A pale, emaciated woman, whose countenance was the very reflex of +affliction and despair, now was assisted to make her way from the +further part of the building. She was dressed in the deepest mourning, +with the exception of the ribbons, which were, like the rest, a deep +blood-red, as an indication that one of her family had been murdered. + +“Widow Flanagan,” said the counsel for Captain Right, “will you have the +goodness to state your distressing case?” + +“Oh, no, no!” she exclaimed; “I'll not state it--I'm beginnin' to fear +what your intentions is this night; and as for me, I'll not help you, +by act or word, to fulfil that fearful intention. Oh, change it!” she +exclaimed; “there has been too much blood shed in the country; too much +bad work every way in it. Call upon God to change your hearts, and go +home to your families while your hands isn't yet stained with blood! You +all know what the law is when it's let loose upon you, as it ought be, +whenever you commit murther, and take away your fellow-crature's life. +I forgive Purcel and his sons; it was neither him nor them that took my +boy's life, but the sogers--oh, no!” she exclaimed, “I see what you're +bint on, and why you are sittin' to try the unfortunate Purcels. I +read it in your black fearful looks, and dark faces--may God turn your +hearts, and forgive you for bringin' me here this night! Surely you +ought to know that one like me, who suffered so much by the spillin' of +blood, wouldn't wish to see my fellow-cratures sufferin' as I am? Oh, +no! I forgive the Purcels, and why shouldn't you? an' the worst prayer +I have for them is, that God may forgive them and change their hearts!” + Alas! that we should say so, but the truth is, that no charge against +Purcel, how bitter and malignant soever it might have been, could have +occasioned such a deep-seated and uncontrollable vengeance against +the unfortunate family, as the language of this extraordinary and +great-minded peasant woman. There was nothing further said at the +moment, every attention was paid to her wishes; in accordance with which +a party of men and horses were sent to convey her safely home. + +When she was gone, a neighbor of hers, who was present, came forward, +and made an accurate and affecting statement of the circumstances +connected with the death, or, as he termed it, and as we fear it was the +murder of her son. + +“The poor, lovin' boy's mother,” he proceeded, “the heart-broken +Christian woman, that you all seen and heard this night, was not long +after a fit of sickness. She was barely able to move about, but not to +work or do anything in the house. When they came out to take away their +property, she had two cows, but only one of them gave any milk. They wor +axed to take the dry cow and any other part of the property they might +think proper, but, 'for God's sake!' said the boy, 'as my poor mother +is only risin' out of her illness, lave us the cow that can give her the +drop of milk; the black water will kill her if you don't.' But no, +this they wouldn't do; but what did they do? Why, they left the dry cow +behind them, and tuck away the one that gave the kindly drop o' milk to +the sick widow and her poor family; they then brought off--ay--swept +away--six times the amount of what she owed; which they bought in for a +song. It's well known that of late Purcel and his sons swore that they'd +execute every process in the sevairest and most expensive manner upon +the people, and as they kept their oath I hope too we'll keep ours. +Well, it was when the poor boy saw the drop o' milk, as he said, goin' +from his poor mother, that he opposed them. You all know the rest; he +was shot stone-dead bekaise he loved that mother. The case is now in +your hands, and this is all I have to say, barrin' to ask you, gintlemen +of the jury, to take a look at this, and think of him it belonged to, +that's now laid low in an airly and untimely grave, through Mat Purcel +and his sons.” + +He then placed a lock of fair and beautiful hair, which had been taken +from the youth's brow, in the hands of the foreman, and resumed his +seat. + +Oh, human nature! especially Irish human nature, what a mystery art +thou! + +The foreman, on receiving it, held it in his hands for some time, and so +completely was he touched by the beauty of the tress, and the affection +of him to whom it had belonged, that the tears gushed from his eyes; and +as these men, who were then in the very act of trampling upon the laws +of God and men, looked at it, one by one, there was scarcely a dry eye +among them. As water, however, is frequently sprinkled over fire, in +order to enkindle it into a more scorching heat, so did the tears they +shed add fresh strength and fury to the vengeance which smouldered +within them. + +This closed the case for Captain Right, and the judge asked if there was +any one present prepared with a defense for Mat Pur-eel and his sons. + +Our old friend, Darby Hourigan, who dressed himself in rags for the +occasion, then came forward; and, after pulling up the waistband of his +breeches, and twisting his revolting features into what he designed +for, but what no earthly being could suppose, a grin, he spoke as +follows:--“My lard, an' gintlemen o' the jury, it 'ud be a hard case +if we suffered poor Misther Purcel and his two daicent, ginerous, +kind-hearted sons, to be condimed 'idout a word at all in their definse. +First, then, is it fair that we should be angry bekaise one of our own +race and rallagion should spring up from among ourselves, and take his +station over us like the Cromwellian shoneens, that are doin' oppression +upon uz and our shildres! An', hadn't he as good a right to get the +law at his back as they have? an' to make it bring him through the same +hard-hearted coorses that made him rich and keep us poor? What had he +done but what others had been doin' for ages, an' wor doin' still? ay, +by jabers, an' 'ud continue to do unless the people put a stop to it. +Worn't his sons gintlemen no less? Didn't they go out to hunt dressed +in top-boots, buck-skin breeches, scarlet coats, and velvet jockey-caps; +and didn't his daughters ride about upon blood-horses an' side-saddles? +An' why are they called blood-horses do yez know? Ah, by jabers, if yez +don't I'll tell you--it's bekaise they wor bought and maintained by the +blood of the poor? Ay, they do all this, but if they do, who's to blame +them? Poor! ershisin! Arra what was I sayin'? Sure they do it bekaise +we all have plenty to ait and dhrink, plenty to wear; good coats to our +backs, like this”--and here he shook the rags he dangled about him in +hundreds; “good breeches to--hem--no matther--good shoes and stockings +to our feet; good heads to our hats--hut! I mane good hats to our +heads--and fusht-rate linen to our shkins; ay--sich as this,” he added +again. “Whisht!” he exclaimed, with a laugh like an Eclipse, “bad +luck to the fatther of it, but I forgot at home--along wid the other +eleven--or stop--here it is to the good still,” pointing to his naked +skin, “an' be my sowl, boys--my lard an' gintlemen o' the jury, I +mane--it's the weavor of this linen that'll stand to us yet. + +“Gintlemin, I do maintain that there's a great dale to be said for Mat +Purcel. To be sure he skrewed the last fardin' out of uz, but where was +there ever a tithe-procthor that didn't do the same thing? An' sure if +he tuck as much as he could from huz, an' gev as little as he could to +the parson, wasn't it all so much the betther? Wasn't it weakenin' their +fat church and fattening our weak on'?--where's the honest Catholic +could say a word aginst that? To be sure, we all know that, by his +knowledge of farmin', and all the ins and outs of our little tillage, +he contrived, one way or other, to take about the fifth of our little +produce; but then if he did, didn't he say it was all by way of +friendship an' indulgence to us? Sure didn't himself tell us that only +he pitied us an' felt for us, he'd a' been ten times harsher than he +was, an' so he would, be coorse, an' 'tis thankful we have a right to +be, an' not grumblin' at all at all. + +“I hould half a dozen could an' miserable acres, an' about three weeks +ago, he tuck about one-fourth of the whole produce, owin' to citations +to the bishop's coorts, an' a long string o' costs jined to the tithe +itself--bad luck to it!--an' didn't he prove to me that he let me +off for a song, an' was the best-hearted procthor that ever strewed a +defaulther? Well, an' isn't every small farmer, that doesn't wish to go +law, or isn't able to right himself, as well off as I am--glory be to +God! I declare, thin, I don't see why we should be angry wid so kind an' +merciful a man. + +“Thin, again, it made a man religious, an' was aiquil to goin' to one's +duty, to go to ax time or indulgence from his sons. It isn't a clear +case that you'd get the indulgence, but it is a clear case that you wor +sure to get a horsewhippin'. Now, you know a horse-whippin' 'ud make a +man repint goin' to him, an' when a man's in a repintin' state, he may +as well repint for whatever sins he has committed, while his hand's in. + +“Altogether, thin, my lard an' gintlemin o' the jury, I think it's clear +that Purcel an' his sons is a great benefit to the counthry about us, +an' that they ought to be acquitted, especially as it's likely that they +have more processes to sarve, more auctions to hould an' may be, more +widow's sons to take on the hands of their poor strugglin' motherss +the crathurs, that's badly able to support them; and anyhow, nobody can +blame a man'll that opens the gates of heaven for his fellow creature's +sowl, and sends him there. + +“I hope, my lard an' gintlemen, that I has now done my duty in defendin' +the Purcels and that I've proved to your satisfaction that they ought to +be acquitted.” + +This harangue of Hourigan's was received with singular alternations of +fierce rage, and mirth that was still fiercer and more frightful. At the +conclusion of it there was a loud stamping of feet, accompanied by an +exulting uproar of approbation. Silence, however, being called, the +jurors put their heads together across the table, and in less than two +minutes their foreman handed up the issue paper to a person who acted as +register and secretary to the meeting. On receipt of this, that worthy +functionary, in a solemn, deep, and barely audible voice, read a verdict +of “guilty,” which was received in solemn silence by the assembly. + +The judge then rose, and in a voice that was also solemn but distinct, +pronounced the sentence of the court to be--“Death and dark destruction +to Matthew Purcel and his sons,” with an order that it should be carried +into execution on that very night. The judge then addressed them at some +length, pretty closely to the following effect: + +“Now, my friends,” said he, “there is no man in this building who has +not before now been engaged in affairs of danger and of death. Every one +of you is the leader of a party of determined fellows, who fear nothing. +Our business is--to susteen the oppressed, to crush tyrants, and to +right those who have been wronged. I am not sorry that the person in +command over me is absent to-night, for I look upon the office I hold, +and the exploit we are engaged on, as a high honor. If that person, +however, is not with us he is engeeged for us, and will send us a strong +reinforcement in the course of the night. I don't expect that the attack +on Purcel's house will deteen us long, and after that we have other +visits to meek, and several fields of pasture to dig up. You all know +who I mane when I mention the man that has authority over us.” + +“We do,” replied the crowd; “three cheers for _him!_” This was +accordingly responded to, and the speaker proceeded. + +“You are to understand,” said he, “that Purcel and his two sons are this +night to die, and their house and pleece to be reduced to ashes. There +is one thing, however, that I must strongly impress upon you--remember +that you are not to injure any of the faymales of the family in the +slightest degree. The second daughter must be taken and brought to a +mounted guard that will be ready behind the garden-hedge, to bear her +off to the mountains--they know themselves where. I will overteek them, +or perhaps be there by the upper road before them. If any of you has a +fancy for the other sister, I'm not the man that will stand in your way; +but in order to encourage you to do your dooty, I now decleer that it is +the man who will best distinguish himself among you that must get her. +You all know what you are to do. The old tyrant, root and branches, is +to be cut off, and his second daughter secured to me. You have been told +the password for the night, and if you find any men among you that knows +it not, put him instantly to death as a spy and a traitor. And now, my +brave fellows, every man to his post, and I, who am for this night at +least' your commander, will lead you on. Come, then, follow me, and +again I say--'Death and dark destruction to Matthew Purcel and his two +sons!'” + +In a few minutes the vast multitude was in motion, all dressed in white +shirts and disguised by blackened faces. The were certainly a fierce +and formidable body, amounting, it is calculated, to not less than five +thousand men, collected, as it was well known, from the seven adjoining +counties. + +The aspect of the sky, on this awful night, was long remembered by the +inhabitants of that part of the country. Over towards the west, and +away as far as the south, it seemed! to be one long mass of deep, +angry-looking fire, that seemed both frightful and portentous, and made +the spectator feel as if a general and immediate conflagration of the +heavens was about to take place: whilst stretched nearer in point of +space to the eye, were visible large bars of cloud that seemed, from +their crimson color, to be masses of actual blood. In fact, the whole +firmament was full of gloom and terror, and pregnant with such +an appalling spirit of coming storm as apparently to threaten the +destruction of the elements. + +It was quite evident, from the disturbed and unsettled appearance of the +country for miles around, and from the circumstance of such an unusual +multitude being on foot in the course of the evening, that some deed of +more than ordinary importance or danger was to be done. The Purcel's, +ever on the watch, soon learned that they were to be attacked on that +very night by those who had threatened them so often, and to whom they +themselves had so frequently sent back a stern and fierce defiance. +Little had they calculated, however, that the onset would be made by men +so well armed and in such prodigious multitudes. + +Such was the state of society at that period, that scarcely any one +individual could place confidence in another. The Purcels, knowing that +they were looked upon by the people in a hostile spirit, and aware of +the disguises which those secret confederacies, that are so peculiar +to our unfortunate country, often take for treacherous and vindictive +purposes, came to the resolution of putting every servant in the house, +male and female, from off the premises. This they did on discovering +Mogue Moylan's treachery with respect to the fire-arms; for, in point of +fact, they knew not on whom to depend. M'Carthy's disappearance was also +a mystery which occasioned them considerable anxiety and doubt. That +he should have abandoned them in the very moment of danger, was a +circumstance quite out of their calculation. On the other hand, it was +obvious that he had done so, and that from whatever motive his conduct +proceeded, he distinctly separated himself from them, at the very crisis +when his presence and assistance might have been of service. + +In the meantime they began to make preparations for their defence. +Purcel's dwelling-house was a long, two-storied building, deeply +thatched. He himself and his eldest son carried up a large supply of +arms and ammunition to the top room, where they took their station so as +to command the large gate of the recently-built fortress wall, by which +the house and adjoining premises were surrounded. Alick, his mother and +sisters, remained below, in such a position that they could command +the gate also, without exposing themselves to danger. The mother and +daughters had been well trained to load and even to discharge fire-arms; +and now they were both competent and willing to take an important part +in defense of their own lives, as well as those who were so dear to +them. + +“Well,” said John Purcel, when every necessary preparation had been +made, “I never could, have dreamt that Frank M'Carthy was either a +coward or a traitor.” + +“I very much fear,” replied his brother, “that he is either the one +or the other, if not both. If he has got a hint--ha!--do you hear that +again?--they are firing still as they come along--if he has got a hint +of this attack and abandoned us, I have not words to express my contempt +for him. What a bravo lover you have got, Julia!” he exclaimed, turning +to his sister, “thus to desert you in the hour of danger.” + +Julia made no immediate reply, but, after wiping away some bitter tears, +she at length said, “I will not believe it--it cannot be possible: +I know it is very strange and unaccountable, and I certainly cannot +understand it.” + +“Do you imagine it possible that M'Carthy could belong to this +confederation of blood?” asked Alick; “I at least have been told so +much: however, perhaps time will tell us more about it. For my part--” + +He had nearly pronounced the words, when a heavy trampling of feet, +joined to a deep murmur of suppressed voices, was heard; a horn was then +sounded, and, in about half a minute afterwards, Purcel and his sons +were called upon to surrender and admit the assailants. From the moment +the first shots were heard, on the part of the approaching enemy, the +Purcels concealed all their lights, so that, when the former reached the +outer wall, the house seemed wrapped in obscurity--as if the family were +buried in sleep. + +They now assailed the gate, but soon found that there was little +likelihood of forcing an entrance without heavier implements than +those they had in their possession. On ascertaining that this was not +practicable, they began to fire at the roof of the dwelling-house, and +at those of the out-offices, with the hope that some portion of the +wadding, when lighted, might ignite them. In this, after repeated +attempts and failures, they were ultimately successful. A cow-house that +stood detached from the other buildings, and, in point of proximity, +nearest the gate, at length caught the flame, and in a few minutes began +to burn. This, to be sure, might have been of little consequence to +the insurgents, Were it not that the wind, which was gusty and blew +sometimes with a good deal of strength, now and then swept the blaze +over to the other offices, which were, consequently, soon in flames; and +it was now obvious that the dwelling-house, from its position and the +direction of the blast, could not possibly escape. + +Hitherto, there was no appearance of either light or life in the +proctor's dwelling, and the insurgents were by no means satisfied with +the progress they had made. It is true, they felt confident that none of +the Purcels had escaped since they approached the house--a circumstance +which was impossible, in consequence of the cordon of the enemy that +had been drawn around the outer wall. Another surmise, however, maddened +them almost to fury. Could it be possible that the objects of their +hatred had abandoned the house in the earlier part of the night, and +thus defrauded them of their vengeance? The thought was intolerable; +but that was a point which they would now be in a capacity soon to +ascertain. + +Finding that the gate, as we said, was impregnable, unless with stronger +implements, they had sent to a smith's forge in the neighborhood, from +whence they obtained two or three sledge-hammers. By the aid of these +they soon shivered the gate to pieces, and, having accomplished this, +they-- + +Before we proceed further, it is necessary to state, that the light of +the burning cow-house fell upon them with the strength and clearness of +a summer noon; whilst, on the other hand, the proctor's family, from the +position of the house, were in complete obscurity. + +The advantage was, consequently, all on one side; the Purcels, when the +gate was demolished, saw the crowd clearly and distinctly, but the crowd +could not at all see them. Feather-beds and other defenses had been +placed at the windows, in such a manner that the firing from the house +could be delivered with almost perfect impunity to the inmates, but +with dreadful and deadly effect upon the assailants. The latter, having +accomplished the destruction of the gate, were in the act of entering, +when, all at once, such a well-directed volley was poured among them as +caused every man of the front ranks to fall dead. Four blunderbusses had +been discharged among them--three by the proctor and his two sons, and +one by his eldest daughter Mary. The fatal effect with which this fire +was delivered caused a momentary pause, and the aggressive crowd +was forced to rush back in a kind of wavy motion, that resembled the +undulations of a retreating serpent. An immediate return, however, took +place; and, in about half a minute, those in front, however reluctant, +were forced forward by the pressure from without. Again did a +well-directed fire bring down those who were thrust forward, and the +consequence was that a back action took place, which enabled those in +front to retire for the present from what they clearly saw was certain +death. + +So far the proctor's family were triumphant, and would have been so, +were it not for the conflagration of the offices, which every moment +threatened their own house with destruction. There was not now one among +the crowd hardy enough to attempt an entrance by the open gate-which +entrance they knew to be only another name for death. Two circumstances, +however, were at work against the brave and intrepid proctor and his +equally brave and intrepid sons. Crowbars had been procured, and three +breaches were being made in those parts of the wall which the windows +of the house did not command, and what was still equally, if not more +dreadful to the besieged, was the fact of the dwelling-house having +taken fire, from the flames that were wafted to it by the conflagration +of the adjoining offices. The breaches having been effected, the +assailants precipitated themselves into the yard; and now commenced the +work of destruction in reality. The latter were shot down in scores; +whilst at the same time, the windows of the house from which this +destructive fire was kept up so ably, received fifty discharges to one +that had been made from them. The house was immediately surrounded, and +guards were placed at the doors and lower windows, with strict and fatal +orders to allow none of the family to escape, with the exception of +the females--one of whom was to be secured, as the reader knows, for a +particular purpose, and the rest as chance or passion might direct. + +The Purcels, in the meantime, ably served and assisted by Mrs. Purcel +and her daughters, continued to deal death and destruction on the +parties outside, without being yet either fatigued or disabled. At +length the terrible light of the roof that was burning over them, and +the stifling heat which began to oppress them, startled the proctor +into a state of feeling so awful, that it obliterated from his awakened +conscience all external impressions of the dreadful havoc of human +life which was taking place about him. The feeling was deepened by a +discovery that the gate had been broken and breaches made in the walls, +as well as by the incredible multitude of armed persons about the +premises, most of whom were now distinctly visible by the glare of the +conflagration. + +The life of Matthew Purcel, though unstained by any of those gross +crimes which separate man from his fellows, or draw down the punishment +of the law upon those who commit them, was, nevertheless, in a singular +degree, unfeeling, oppressive, and rapacious. Though plausible and +clever in his manner, and anxious to stand well with the world, he was, +at the same time, relentless and implacable, a tyrant within the petty +sphere of his influence, a despiser of all those principles that were +not calculated, no matter how, to elevate and enrich. He ground the +poor, and wrung, by the most oppressive extortion, out of their sweat +and labor, all and much more than they could afford to give him. With +destitution and poverty in their most touching and pitiable shapes, +he never had one moment's sympathy, nor did the widow or orphan ever +experience a single act of benevolence or mercy at his hands. + +There was now a short pause in the work of destruction, but it was +evident to him and his family that some new element of action was at +work among the multitude, though of its character and object they could +form no possible conjecture. The Purcels had now a short space for +reflection, and but a short one, for they all felt, by the increasing +heat that proceeded from the burning roof, that they could not long +abide under it. Alick and the females had joined John and his father +in the top room, and the latter now saw clearly that fate, in its most +dreadful and appalling shape, was on him and his whole family, for +it was clear, as matters stood, that neither he nor his sons, at all +events, could escape the vengeance of the infuriated multitude. In this +condition, his veins swollen, and the perspiration standing in large +beads upon his forehead, he took one fearful and agonizing glance upon +his past life, and felt, now that he stood on the verge of eternity, +that the retrospect was like a glimpse of hell. The change that came +over his features was frightful beyond all belief; his face became +nearly black, and his eyes, which grew bloodshot almost in a few +minutes, had, notwithstanding, a sharp delirious expression of terror +that no language could depict. + +“Great God! father,” exclaimed his son John, who first noticed, this +change in his appearance, “what is the matter with you?” + +“We are lost!” he exclaimed; “oh, my past life! Great Heaven! if I had +but one act of kindness to look back upon, I could dare death. Children, +the tortures of hell are upon me! Here is death at my throat, but how +will I die? Hallo--look!” he exclaimed, “do you see it?--it is +all black--black and bloody--black and bloody--that life of mine! +Crimes--crimes--crimes against the poor--against the widow and the +orphan! Why did I do it? Eh, why did I oppress, and grind, and murder! +Ay, murder!--where's Widow Flanagan's son?--where's all the blood I +was the means of shedding?--where are the rotten corpses that are now +festering in the grave, because I was rapacious and an oppressor? +Hallo! I say, don't curse me--or rather, do curse me--damn me--damn my +soul--damn my soul--ha! what am I saying?--who brought me to this? Who? +why who but the black and damnable parsons--ay, the parsons and their +d--d heretical church! However, I'll have my revenge, for hell is lined +with them--paved with them--circled with them; and there I'll find +them in burning squads to welcome me--ha! ha! ha! Welcome, Proctor! +Tithe-Proctor! God's Perdition! what a name! what a character? +Tithe-Proctor!--that is rogue, oppressor, scourge, murderer!--and all +for what? For a dead, lazy, gross, overgrown heresy! Ay, lazy parsons +that I brought myself to this for, to perdition for! But then I was +proud too--oh, it was a great thing to creep up from poverty and cunning +to broadcloth and top-boots, to saddle horse, then a jaunting-car, to +shake hands with the great parsons, who despised me all the while and +made me their tool and scapegoat! Oh, yes, and to have my sons able +to hunt in red coats and top-boots, and my daughters to ride on +side-saddles--how do you do, gintlemen?--ladies, your most obedient! +but, where are we?--what is this? Is this the light of hell, and these +the devils with their black faces? And yet, I did intend to repent and +to be merciful to the poor; and now here comes damnation! and why? have +I not murdered you all?--where am I?--who am I? I am not Matthew Purcel, +the Tithe-Proctor, I hope--make that clear, and I'll give you--or +could it be a dream?--no, no, it is real, a real fact; and the gulf of +damnation yawns for me! Ha!--well--come, then, let us die like men; +give me the blunderbuss; now, down with the villains--down with the +villains!” + +His family had been standing between the shelter of two windows, almost +transfixed into stone with horror at the blasphemous agonies under +which his frantic spirit was raging and writhing. The truth is, that +the frightful certainty of death to himself and his family, in such an +unprepared state, together with the rapid glance of his ill-spent life, +joined to his exertion and the suffocating heat of the room, had, +all combined, induced what may be well termed this insane paroxysm of +despair and guilt. + +On seizing the blunderbuss, he rushed, now distinctly visible in the +light, and forgetful that the multitude were on the watch for him, over +towards one of the unprotected windows, where he was followed by his +son John, for the purpose of being dragged out of danger. He had just +discharged the blunderbuss at their leader, who was on the point of +making his way to the hall-door, when the ruffian fell stone-dead, and +almost simultaneously, he and his son John were literally perforated +with a shower of bullets. + +“We must die, also,” exclaimed Alick to his mother and his sisters; “we +must die,--but let us die firmly. Any death, however, is better than one +of fire; here we cannot stay longer. Stoop now, so that we may pass that +part of the wall that is beneath the windows, until we reach the lower +floor; if we expose ourselves only for a moment, we must share their +fate. Great God! what a fate and what a night!” + +By following his advice, they reached the lower floor in safety, and had +scarcely done so, when the burning roof crashed in upon the bodies of +the proctor and his son, of whose remains nothing but a few cinders were +found the next morning. The falling in of the roof was accompanied by a +considerable explosion, owing to the powder which they had left behind +them, and the noise of which caused the crowd that was now hemming in +the house to pause for a moment, but only for a moment; for they knew +now by the explosion, that the ammunition of their enemies was gone, +and that “the old fox and his cubs,” as they called them, were probably +incapable of further resistance; a reflection which, as it stood not in +the way of their cowardice, seemed to increase their fury. + +“Revenge now, boys,” shouted a hundred voices; “they have shot our +leader along with the rest. Come on then, sledge in the doors an' +windies, an' if we lave a single inch of the villains together, may +we be hanged like dogs! Come on, then, they are helpless now; their +ammunition's gone, an' they can do us no harm. Blood for blood as far as +they go; it's into inches we must hew them--into inches--come on, then!” + +A furious assault instantly commenced at the doors and windows. It was, +indeed, a frightful thing to see these men, with their white shirts and +black visages, fiercely at work; panting and inflamed with ungovernable +rage and vengeance, the red turbid blaze of the burning building +lighting them into the similitude of incarnate devils, let loose upon +some hellish mission of destruction and blood. Their own fury, however, +impeded their progress, for as they passed onwards to the door, urged by +the worst passions of man, it was found that their violence, thus broken +and diminished by the struggle, had prevented them from making anything +like a rapid progress in breaking in the powerfully-fortified door. +There was consequently another slight pause, during which a circumstance +occurred that added a terrible sublimity to the scene. + +We have said, that the sky looked angry and portentous, and such was the +fact. During the pauses that now occurred, the distant darkness of the +surrounding country was momentarily dispelled by a stronger and more +terrific fire than that which now shot up its red and waving pyramids +from the burning houses before them. All at once the black sky opened, +and from the chasm of angry clouds a sheet of red lightning flashed, +lighting up the darkness of the country around them in a fearful manner; +but above all things, and what gave a super-added horror to the scene, +was the influence which that light, that seemed to proceed from the +vengeance of God, had upon that which proceeded from the vengeance of +man. The sheeted volume swept down, and for an instant poured over +the blazing roofs, the tottering walls, the bleeding corpses and the +black-visaged men who stood in multitudes about the place, panting with +the mad intoxication of crime; it poured upon them, we say, a light +so strong, penetrating, and intense, that its fearful distinctness was +enough to paralyze the heart, and awe those who were present from the +prosecution of their vengeance. It was, in fact, as if the Almighty +Himself had sent down His avenging angel from the heavens, to pour His +light upon them, in order to bear testimony against the dreadful work +of blood in which they were engaged. Nor was this all. Ere the pause was +broken, a burst of thunder, so deep, so loud, and so terrible, in such +an hour, pealed from a point of the sky on their right, taking its +course in the direction of the proctor's house, where, in one terrific +explosion, it seemed to burst exactly over their heads. Some were awed, +but we all know that companionship fortifies the heart in the +commission of crime, and in a few minutes the Almighty, His fires of +vengeance,--and His midnight thunders, were all alike forgotten. + +The assault on the door was now renewed with, if possible, more +ferocious violence; and it became evident to the unfortunate and now +helpless inmates, that they must soon fall into the hands of those from +whom they could expect no mercy. We say they were in a helpless state; +and this was occasioned by the explosion, which left them without +ammunition, even if they had had their firearms. Such, however, was +their hurry in escaping from the falling roof, joined to the shock and +stupor caused by the death of John and his father, that they thought +not for a moment of anything but mere self-preservation. Owing to +these causes they brought no weapons of defence with them; and now, +in consequence of the fallen roof and explosion, their fire-arms were +beyond their reach, and useless. They stood now ghastly--their features +rigid like those of the dead--calm and without a tremor--but with a +melancholy fortitude that was as noble as it was rare and unprecedented. +At length Mrs. Purcel spoke:--“Alick,” said she, “you must save +yourself: we may receive some mercy at the hands of these men, but you +will not; hide yourself somewhere, and, when they come in, we will say +that you perished with your father and brother.” + +“No, my dear mother,” replied her son, “while I have life I will not +separate from' you and these dear girls.” + +“This is madness,” observed Julia; “what can you expect? Have we not +witnessed bloodshed enough to-night already?--or are you determined that +we shall be compelled to witness your murder before our faces? Oh, dear +Alick, be advised by my mother; by secreting yourself, you may escape; +but if you are found here, you will be instantly shot.” + +“Dear Alick,” said Mary, “by the love you bear us, and by the blood +of those whom these murdering ruffians have sacrificed, we implore and +entreat you to conceal yourself; and, if that fails--then, by the love +of God, do as we desire!” + +She had scarcely uttered the last words, when a single Whiteboy, with +blackened face, made his appearance at the end of the kitchen stairs, +and approached them, waving his hands with a mingled expression of +distraction and entreaty. + +“Dear John,” he exclaimed, “be patient; and Julia, be calm, and hear me. +I am,” he added, in a low and guarded whisper, “Frank M'Carthy: as you +hope for mercy from God and life from man, listen! The door will be +broken in in a few minutes; but if you are guided by me, you may yet +be safe. Blacken your face forthwith, Alick; and here is a shirt marked +with blood too--a circumstance that will give you more security--which I +have brought you.” + +“Frank M'Carthy,” exclaimed Julia, “and a Whiteboy! Oh, yes, be advised +by him, Alick; as for me, I care not how soon death comes--I have little +to live for now!” + +“If there was time, dear Julia, for explanation, I could soon satisfy +you; but, alas! I fear to ask for your father and John.” + +“They are both murdered, sir,” she replied; “they have fallen victims to +men who are in the habit of wearing white shirts and black faces--with, +I fear, blacker hearts.” + +“Great God!” he exclaimed, “is this so? but time now is life: I must bear +your suspicions, Julia, until a fitter occasion. You, Alick, as you will +not and wish not to leave your mother and sisters unprotected, follow +me--follow me, or, as I hope for God's mercy, you are lost, and your +sisters--I dread to think of it.” + +“It is enough,” said Alick, struck now with absolute impatience: “I +consent, Frank--what do you wish?” + +He brought him at once to the kitchen, where he took soot from the +chimney, which he moistened with water, and, in a couple of minutes, +blackened his face and put the bloody shirt over his dress. The change +was so completely and quickly effected, that the females for a moment +took it for granted that they were strangers who had forced an entrance +by some other way. + +“Now,” said M'Carthy, placing a loaded pistol in Alick's hand, “the +pass-word for the night is '_the Cannie Soogah_'--you won't forget +that?--but, above all things, don't think of using your pistol, +whatever may happen, until you hear me shout, '_the Cannie Soogah to the +rescue!_' and even then, wait until you see and speak to him--the brave, +the noble, the glorious fellow!” + +“Good God! and is he here?” asked Alick. + +“He's here--he's everywhere,” replied the other: “he's here, at all +events, before now, I hope: the manner in which I shall call upon his +name is this--first, I shout 'the Cannie Soogah!' the very mention of +which will be followed by a general cheer; then, when he appears, I +shall call out, 'the Cannie Soogah to the rescue!' After this you must +be guided by me, as I must be by the Cannie Soogah and circumstances. +Come, now, it is safer to open the door and admit these ruffians.” + +“And remember,” added Alick, turning with a look of agony to the +females, “that the men have all been shot, and are lying in the upper +room!” + +The ruse of M'Carthy succeeded. The Whiteboys, on being admitted, took +it for granted that those who opened the door belonged to themselves and +had got in by some other entrance. The house was hastily searched; +and the fact of the Purcels having been killed in the upper room, was +corroborated by the limbs of John and his father being visible among the +burning pile. The state of the house now rendered a hasty retreat out of +it necessary. A sudden trembling of the walls and upper joists was felt, +the crowd rushed out, and the next moment the whole building was one +fallen mass of smoking ruins. + +The females now found themselves prisoners; but still their brother and +M'Carthy kept near them, and seemed to act as a portion of those to whom +their guardianship! had been entrusted. Julia found herself committed, +as if by general consent, to the care of one individual, who kept her +a little in advance of the accompanying crowd--to! whom, from time to +time, he waved his hand without looking behind him to intimate that +they should not press close upon them, but afford him an opportunity of +holding what he wished to be considered some confidential conversation +with her. + +“That I may be blest, Miss Julia, but you're a lucky girl this +night--an' I think I may say that I'm a lucky boy myself. I'm to take +care of you, and to bring you to a safe place; which I'll do, never +fear. You know what I told you afore about my family--how we wor ever +an' always doin' our best against the Sassanach Laws--an ould family +it is--an' sure ould blood is betther than riches any day--an' it isn't +complexion aither, Miss Julia, that a--this way, darlin'--this way--an' +how long now is it since you fell in consate with me? Well, darlin' that +I may die a happy death in a good ould age, if I can blame you for not +spakin'--especially afther havin' lost your father and two brothers this +night. Howandiver, we can have a lob of their wealth, anyhow, yourself +and myself--this way, darlin', there's a party of friends waitin' for +us--wisha' thin, but I'm lookin' forrid to a happy life wid you--but +sure you might say a single word to me, darlin'--jist to let me know you +hear me.” + +Whether Julia heard this one-sided dialogue or not, it is difficult +to say. She seemed passive and inattentive, and walked on with an +abstracted and mechanical motion. Her brother and lover could only get +near her occasionally, having found it necessary to watch her mother and +sister also. They could perceive, however, not only that the crowd which +followed Mogue appeared to be a good deal in his confidence, and under +his sway, but that it increased so rapidly as he went along, that they +became alarmed, especially as the Cannie Soogah had not yet made his +appearance. + +At this moment they were met by a body of men, who on looking at Mogue +and Julia, exclaimed, “You are bringing her the wrong way--you are +breakin' your ordhers--you know that our captain laid it out, that +you should bring her in the other direction, and to where the guard is +waitin' for her.” + +“Ay,” replied Mogue, “but you know our captain had been shot, and is +lyin' stiff inside the gate there behind us.” + +“But livin' or dead,” they replied, “do you observe your duty--it's a +bad an' dangerous example you're settin'.” + +“But sure if the captain was alive,” said Mogue, “it 'ud be a different +thing--that I may be happy, but I'm bringin' her the right way, and +to the right place, too--amn't I, boys?” he exclaimed, turning to his +followers. + +“All's right!” they replied; “to be sure you are--go on, and more +powers!” + +About a minute or two before this, a mounted Whitefoot had rode up, and +having heard the words, he replied to Mogue, in a loud voice, “No, sir! +our captain is not shot, but is safe and sound.” And scarcely had the +words proceeded from his lips when the very individual, as it seemed, +who had led them during the night, galloped up to the place of +altercation. + +“Who says I am dead,” said he; “I don't look like a dead man, I think. +Meek way there till I speak to this man,” pointing to Mogue. “Why, sir, +did you dare to disobey ordhers by taking this lady to the wrong place? +Answer me that?” + +Mogue, seeing that his support was now powerful, looked at them, and +asked aloud--“Am I bringin' the lady the wrong way, boys?” + +“No,” they replied; “Go on, and more power!” + +At this moment M'Carthy shouted out in loud and powerful tones--“The +Cannie Soogah!” and the words were no sooner uttered than Mogue started, +a rapid stir and murmur pervaded, the multitude, and almost instantly +a most hearty and vociferous cheer awakened the echoes that slept among +the neighboring hills. The moment this had subsided, the same +voice repeated the name with an addition--“The Cannie Soogah to the +rescue--here he is!” + +Our facetious friend, for it was he, threw up his hand in a peculiar +manner, that made the act understood by all present, with the exception +of M'Carthy and Alick Purcel. + +“Yes, boys,” he exclaimed, “I am here; and I thank you for your +kindness. You have had a full revenge to-night on Purcel and his family; +but, as I have been a long time in search of a good wife, I suppose you +have no objection that I should take charge of the ladies.” + +These words were followed by another astounding cheer, and the Cannie, +riding over to the spot where Mrs. Purcel and her daughter stood--for +she and Mary had now joined Julia--was about to speak to them, when the +report of a pistol was heard, and at the same moment a bullet whizzed +past his ear. + +“Treachery!” he shouted, “treachery against your commander! Seize upon +that person, in the name of Captain Right.” + +His words came late; another report followed the first, with an interval +of less than a quarter of a minute between them, and instantly our pious +friend, who had flattered himself with the prospect of a long and happy +life in the possession of Julia Purcel, fell stone-dead to the earth. + +“What!” shouted the Cannie, “is this more treachery? But wait, I'll soon +cure this.” + +He put a horn to his lips as he spoke, and having given it a sharp, +quick, and hasty blast, he nodded his head, as much as to say, “Wait a +moment.” + +“The last shot wasn't threachery anyhow,” exclaimed Jerry Joyce, +whose voice Alick immediately recognized; “somebody,” he added, with a +significant look, “has ped honest Mogue for his.” + +“Is he dead?” asked the Cannie. + +“He is dead, captain,” replied several, “and so may every one die that's +a traitor to the Cannie Soogah--our bold Captain Right.'” + +A body of about a thousand men now made their appearance, every one of +them personally devoted to the Cannie Soogah; and brought there for the +humane purpose, if possible, of saving Purcel and his sons that night. + +“It was a false alarm, my friends,” said he, as they came up; “there was +only one traitor among them, and he has been brought to his account. I +didn't wish for his death, and he might have got some other punishment, +but it can't be helped now; I'm only sorry for the false-hearted +vagabond because he wasn't fit to die.” + +He then, after a few words of advice, dismissed them to their respective +homes, with the exception of a certain number of faithful followers, +whom he retained for the purpose of assisting him to escort Mrs. Purcel +and her daughters to the house of our worthy magistrate. Another body he +also appointed to the task of carrying the dead and wounded away to some +remote place, where they could be interred, or so concealed that their +indentification might not involve their surviving relatives. + +[Illustration: Destruction of the Castle] + +Our narrative, we may say, is closed. The Cannie now having placed Mrs. +Purcel and her daughters on horseback, directed his friends to proceed +to the residence of the redoubtable Fitzy O'Driscol, who was by no means +prepared for seeing such a number of Whiteboys about his house. Alick +Purcel and M'Carthy also got horses, and as they went along, M'Carthy +received from him a solution to the mysterious occurrences in which he +had been involved. + +“Mr. Purcel's family,” said he, but not in hearing of the females, “is +the last family that I ought to protect this night. They have shot my +twin brother, the man that went by the name of Buck English. He is now +gone to his reckonin' and may God forgive him! He was tried and found +guilty of murdher in the county of Cork, and the worst of it was that +it was in the act of robbin' a gentleman's house that the murdher was +committed. While he was in gaol I contrived to get into him, and we +managed so well that he escaped, and I was kept in his place. The next +day I tould them the truth, and he was taken again; but it seems that +the gintleman that prosecuted, on hearin' that there was another person +so like him, felt unaisy in his mind and got him off for the murdher, +in dread he might have sworn against the wrong man. He couldn't keep +himself quiet though, for, on the very day before his pardon came, he +was caught, along wid some others, in the act of breakin' out of +the gaol, and for that he got a severe wound and seven years' +transportation. All our lives, I and my other brother--” + +“Why, have you another brother, Cannie?” asked M'Carthy. + +“Troth, and I have; and you may thank God that I have, or it isn't here +but in heaven, I hope, you'd be this night. Well, as I was sayin', I +an' my other brother spent our whole life in tryin' to defate him in his +plans and skames--may God forgive him! We often did, but not always; for +sometimes he was too many for both of us.” + +“But, Cannie, about the night I was in Frank Finnerty's, who was it that +saved my life twice?” + +“One of them--he that wounded the fellows--I don't wish to name--but, +indeed I'm crippled here, bekaise you know, gintlemen, that there +are laws in the land. A friend to your family met Mogue Moylan, and, +suspectin' what was in the wind, sent that friend to assist you, and it +was by volunteerin' to take your life that he was able to save you. My +brother, afther meetin' him, and hearin' from him what happened was the +man that met you aftherwards, that gave you the passwords, and showed +you how to open the windey. There were others there that knew you, for I +hope you don't think that every man goin' out at night wid a white shirt +and a black face on him is a murdherer.” + +“God forbid!” said M'Carthy, “I've been disguised by both myself, as it +happens. It is difficult, however, for any country to be happy, or any +people either industrious or moral, when such secret confederacies are +made the standard of both law and morality.” + +“That's thruth, Mr. M'Carthy, and no man knows it betther than I do; +I and my brother--not him that's gone to his account to night, but the +other--were forced to join them for our own safety, but, as long as we +wor of them, we endeavored to do as much good--that is, to prevent as +much evil--as we could. It was I that sent you, Mr. M'Carthy, the letter +to Dublin, and it was I that sent the messenger for you this evenin'; I +took it for granted that if you had remained in Mr. Purcel's you'd been +shot, and, besides, I wanted you to watch Mogue Moylan, for I had raison +to know that he intended to play a trick on me to night in regard to +Miss Julia. I had my doubts all along whether I could come in time to +save the whole family and defate my brother, and I could not, for I had +an immense number of my own men to get together; however, God's will be +done; I did all that lay in my power.” + +On reaching Nassau Lodge, the party anticipated some danger from Fergus +O'Driscol's fire-arms. Alick, however, knocked, and on hearing the +window open, exclaimed:-- + +“Don't be alarmed, Fergus, we are friends. My mother and sisters are +here, and wish to get in. This has been a dreadful night!--a night of +bloodshed and murder!” + +“My God!” exclaimed Fergus, “what is this you tell me? But why, Alick, +are you surrounded by such a number of Whiteboys. I can see distinctly +that they are such by the light of the moon.” + +“Boys,” said the Cannie Soogah, “disperse now--and thank you; I feel +your kindness, and I won't forget it--you see the people of the house +are alarmed--but that's not the worst of it--what,” he added, with a +peculiar smile, “if you bring that terrible dare-divil, O'Driscol, upon +you!” + +The crowd immediately dispersed, and in a few minutes the melancholy +group were admitted to the welcome shelter of the magistrate's +hospitable roof; for such, in fact, it was. + +We do not intend to dwell upon this melancholy meeting of the +neighboring families, nor upon the heart-rending details which were +given of the dreadful circumstances that made that night so hideous. All +the O'Driscols were present, and deeply participated in the affliction +of the late proctor's family with the exception of the magistrate +himself, who, much to their astonishment, was not forthcoming. Every +successive moment, however, he was looked for; but as he did not, after +an unusual period of expectation, make his appearance, some alarm began +to be felt, which gradually increased, especially on the part of his +daughter, until she proposed that a search should be made for him. This +was accordingly done, when--but let it not reach the ears of his friend +the Castle, he was discovered somewhat in the position of Philosopher +Square, behind Molly Seagrim's curtain, squatted upon his hunkers, as +they say, in the furthest and darkest corner of the coal hole. + +In about half an hour after this discovery, a knock came to the door, +and it was intimated to Alick Purcel and M'Carthy, that the Cannie +Soogah wished to see them for a minute or two,--but that he declined +coming in. + +“Gentlemen,” said he, when they came to the hall-door, “I have made +up my mind since I left you awhile ago, and I'm come to bid you both +farewell. This at present is not a paceful country to live in, and I'm +tired of the work that's goin' on in it. I'm now come to bid you both +farewell, and my brother is goin' along wid me. The other will be laid +in his grave this night. I wish, Mr. Purcel, I could a' done more for +your family; but what's done can't be undone. Farewell, then,” said +he, and, as he spoke, his voice was filled with deep but manly +emotion--“Farewell to you both! When you think of me, let it be kindly, +for from this night out you will never see the Cannie Soogah more.” + +He put his two hands upon his face, gave a sob or two, and immediately +departed at a rapid pace, and never was seen in the country afterwards. + +It is necessary to say now that Alick Purcel and his beloved Miss +O'Driscol were united;--that M'Carthy, in due time, after having been +called to the bar, was made happy in the possession of Julia Purcel; and +that Jerry Joyce, in imitation of his betters, was blessed by the hand +and honest heart of Letty Lenehan. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tithe-Proctor, by William Carleton + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TITHE-PROCTOR *** + +***** This file should be named 16010-0.txt or 16010-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/0/1/16010/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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