"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, d.i.c.k; 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 a.s.sure our readers, did not suffer all this time to pa.s.s without making an effort to escape. This, however, was a matter of dreadful danger, as the circ.u.mstances 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, d.i.c.k, 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. G.o.d 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? h.e.l.l 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 Ca.s.sidy; here, Molly, who the d.i.c.kens 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 t.i.thes, 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 t.i.the-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 f.a.gan the t.i.the-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 h.e.l.l 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" G.o.d forgive us all--amin, acheema!"
"Hould your drunken tongue, Ned," said he who seemed to a.s.sume 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, a.s.suming 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 pa.s.s for a person asleep.
"You"ll drink something wid us," said the princ.i.p.al 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 inst.i.tutions 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 princ.i.p.al 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 j.a.pers 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 cra.s.s 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 h.e.l.l-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. Ca.s.sidy," he called m a louder voice, "bring us another bottle."