"During this interval the distress of Widow Doran had become known to the inmates of his family, and his mother--for she lived with him--used to bring down each day some nourishing food to the sick boy. In these kind offices she was very punctual; and so great was the poverty of the poor widow, and so dest.i.tute the situation of her sick son, that, in fact, the burden of their support lay princ.i.p.ally upon Vengeance"s family.
"Vengeance was a small, thin man, with fair hair, and fiery eyes; his voice was loud and shrill, his utterance rapid, and the general expression of his countenance irritable. His motions were so quick, that he rather seemed to run than walk. He was a civil, obliging neighbor, but performed his best actions with a bad grace; a firm, unflinching friend, but a bitter and implacable enemy. Upon the whole he was generally esteemed and respected--though considered as an eccentric character, for such indeed he was. On hearing of Widow Doran"s distress, he gave orders that a portion of each meal should be regularly sent down to her and her son; and from that period forward they were both supported princ.i.p.ally from his table.
"In this way some months had pa.s.sed, and still Vengeance was undisturbed in his farm. It often happened, however, that Doran"s other son came to see his brother; and during these visits it was but natural that his mother and brother should allude to the kindness which they daily experienced from Vesey.
"One night, about twelve o"clock, a tap came to Widow Doran"s door, who happened to be attending the invalid, as he was then nearly in the last stage of his illness. When she opened it, the other son entered, in an evident hurry, having the appearance of a man who felt deep and serious anxiety.
""Mother," said he, "I was very uneasy entirely about Mick, and just started over to see him, although they don"t know at home that I"m out, so I can"t stay a crack; but I wish you would go to the door for two or three minutes, as I have something to say to him."
""Why, thin, Holy Mother!--Jack, a-hagur, is there anything the matther, for you look as if you had seen something?"*
* This phrase means--you look as if you had seen a ghost; it is a very common one.
""Nothing worse than myself, mother," he replied; "nor there"s nothing the matther at all--only I have a few words to say to Mick here, that"s all."
"The mother accordingly removed herself out of hearing.
""Mick," says the boy, "this is a bad business--I wish to G.o.d I was clear and clane out of it."
""What is it?" said Mick, alarmed. "" Murther, I"m afeard, if G.o.d doesn"t turn it off of them, somehow.
""What do you mane, man, at all?" said the invalid, raising himself, in deep emotion, on his elbow, from his poor straw bed.
""Vengeance," said he--"Vengeance, man--he"s going to get it. I was out with the boys on Sunday evening, and at last it"s agreed on to visit him to-morrow night. I"m sure and sartin he"ll never escape, for there"s more in for him than taking the farm, and daring them so often as he did--he shot two fingers off of a brother-in-law of Jem Reilly"s one night that they war on for threshing him, and that"s coming home to him along with the rest."
""In the name of G.o.d, Jack," inquired Mick, "what do they intend to do to him?"
"" Why," replied Jack, "it"s agreed to put a coal in the thatch, in the first place; and although they were afeared to name what he"s to get besides, I doubt they"ll make a spatchc.o.c.k of himself. They won"t meddle with any other of the family, though--but he"s down for it."
""Are you to be one of them?" asked Mick.
""I was the third man named," replied the other, "bekase, they said, I knew the place."
""Jack," said his emaciated brother, with much solemnity, raising himself up in the bed--"Jack, if you have act or part in that b.l.o.o.d.y business, G.o.d in his glory you"ll never see. Fly the country--cut off a finger or toe--break your arm--or do something that may prevent you from being there. Oh, my G.o.d!" he exclaimed, whilst the tears fell fast down his pale cheeks--"to go to murder the man, and lave his little family widout a head or a father over them, and his wife a widow! To burn his place, widout rhime, or rason, or offince! Jack, if you go, I"ll die cursing you. I"ll appear to you--I"ll let you rest neither night nor day, sleeping nor waking, in bed or out of bed. I"ll haunt you, till you"ll curse the very hour you war born."
""Whist, Micky," said Jack, "you"re frightening me: I"ll not go--will that satisfy you?"
""Well, dhrop down on your two knees, there," said Micky, "and swear before the G.o.d that has his eye upon you this minute, that you"ll have no hand in injuring him or his, while you live. If you don"t do this, I"ll not rest in my grave and maybe I"ll be a corpse before mornin."
""Well Micky, said Jack, who though wild and unthinking, was a lad whose heart and affections were good, "it would be hard for me to refuse you that much, and you! not likely to be long wid me--I will;" and he accordingly knelt down and swore solemnly, in words which his brother dictated to him, that he would not be concerned in the intended murder.
""Now, give me your hand, Jack," said the invalid; "G.o.d bless you--and so He will. Jack, if I depart before I see you again, I"ll die happy.
That man has supported me and my mother for near the last three months, bad as you all think him. Why, Jack, we would both be dead of hunger long ago, only for his family; and, my G.o.d! to think, of such a murdhering intention makes my blood run cowld"--
""You had better give him a hint, then," said Jack, "some way, or he"ll be done for, as sure as you"re stretched on that bed; but don"t mintion names, if you wish to keep me from being murdhered for what I did.
I must be off now, for I stole out of the barn:* and only that Atty Laghy"s gone along wid the master to the ---- fair, to help him to sell the two coults, I couldn"t get over at all."
* Laboring servants in Ireland usually sleep in barns.
""Well, go home, Jack, and G.o.d bless you, and so He will, for what you did this night."
"Jack accordingly departed, after bidding his mother and brother farewell.
"When the old woman came in, she asked her son if there was anything wrong with his brother, but he replied that there was not.
""Nothing at all," said he--"but will you get up airly in the morning, plase G.o.d, and tell Vesey Johnston that I want to see him; and--that--I have a great dale to say to him?"
"" To be sure I will, Micky; but, Lord guard us, what ails you, avourneen, you look so frightened?"
""Nothing at all, at all, mother; but will you go where I say airly to-morrow, for me?"
""It"s the first thing I"ll do, G.o.d willin"," replied the mother. And the next morning Vesey was down with the invalid very early, for the old woman kept her word and paid him a timely visit.
""Well, Micky, my boy," said Vengeance, as he entered the hut, "I hope you"re no worse this morning."
""Not worse, sir," replied Mick; "nor, indeed, am I anything better either, but much the same way. Sure it"s I that knows very well that my time here is but short."
""Well, Mick, my boy," said Vengeance, "I hope you"re prepared for death--and that you expect forgiveness, like a Christian. Look up, my boy, to G.o.d at once, and pitch the priests and their craft to ould Nick, where they"ll all go at the long-run."
""I b"lieve," said Mick, with a faint smile, "that you"re not very fond of the priests, Mr. Johnston; but if you knew the power they possess as well as I do, you wouldn"t spake of them so bad, anyhow."
""Me fond of them!" replied the other;" "why, man, they"re a set of the most gluttonous, black-looking hypocrites that ever walked on neat"s leather; and ought to be hunted out of the country--hunted out of the country, by the light of day! every one of them; for they do nothing but egg up the people against the Protestants."
""G.o.d help you, Mr. Johnston," replied the invalid, "I pity you from my heart for the opinion you hould about them. I suppose if you were sthruck dead on the spot wid a blast from the fairies, that you think a priest couldn"t cure you by one word"s spaking?"
""Cure me!" said Vengeance, with a laugh of disdain; "by the light of day! if I caught one of them curing me, I"d give him the purtiest chase you ever saw in your life, across the hills."
""Don"t you know," said Mick, "that priest Dannelly cured Bob Beaty of the falling sickness--until he broke the vow that was laid upon him, of not going into a church, and the minute he crossed the church-door, didn"t he dhrop down as bad as ever--and what could the minister do for him?"
""And don"t you know," rejoined Vengeance, "that that"s all a parcel of the most lying stuff possible; lies--lies--all lies--and vagabondism?
Why, Mick, you Papishes worship the priests; you think they can bring you to heaven at a word. By the light of day, they must have good sport laughing at you, when they get among one another. Why don"t they teach you and give you the Bible to read, the ribelly rascals? but they"re afraid you"d know too much then."
""Well, Mr. Johnston," said Mick, "I b"lieve you"ll never have a good opinion of them, at any rate."
""Ay, when the sky falls," replied Vengeance; "but you"re now on your death bed, and why don"t you pitch them to ould Nick, and get a Bible?
Get a Bible, man; there"s a pair of them in my house, that"s never used at all--except my mother"s, and she"s at it night and day. I"ll send one of them down to you: turn yourself to G.o.d--to your Redeemer, that died on the mount of Jehosha-phat, or somewhere about Jerusalem, for your sins--and don"t go out of the world from the hand of a rascally priest, with a band about your eyes, as if you were at blind-man"s-buff, for, by the light of day, you"re as blind as a bat in a religious way."
""There"s no use in sending me a Bible," replied the invalid, "for I can"t read it: but, whatever you may think, I"m very willing to lave my salvation with my priest."
""Why, man," observed Vengeance, "I thought you were going to have sense at last, and that you sent for me to give you some spiritual consolation."
""No, sir," replied Mick; "I have two or three words to spake to you."
""Come, come, Mick, now that we"re on a spiritual subject, I"ll hear nothing from you till I try whether it"s possible to give you a trute insight into religion. Stop, now, and let us lay our heads together, that we may make out something of a dacenter creed for you to believe in than the one you profess. Tell me the truth, do you believe in the priests?"
""How?" replied Mick; "I believe that they"re holy men--but I know they can"t save me widout the Redeemer and His blessed mother,"
""By the light above us, you"re shuffling, Mick--I say you do believe in them--now, don"t tell me to the contrary--I say you"re shuffling as fast as possible."