Part 75 (1/2)

Though Lord Kilgobbin, when he awoke somewhat late in the afternoon, did not exactly complain of headache, he was free to admit that his faculties were slightly clouded, and that his memory was not to the desired extent retentive of all that pa.s.sed on the preceding night. Indeed, beyond the fact--which he reiterated with great energy--that 'old Flood, Tory though he was, was a good fellow, an excellent fellow, and had a marvellous bin of port wine,' his son d.i.c.k was totally unable to get any information from him. 'Bigot, if you like, or Blue Protestant, and all the rest of it; but a fine hearty old soul, and an Irishman to the heart's core!' That was the sum of information which a two hours' close cross-examination elicited; and d.i.c.k was sulkily about to leave the room in blank disappointment when the old man suddenly amazed him by asking: 'And do you tell me that you have been lounging about the town all the morning and have learned nothing? Were you down to the gaol? Have you seen O'Shea? What's _his_ account of it?

Who began the row? Has he any bones broken? Do you know anything at all?'

cried he, as the blank look of the astonished youth seemed to imply utter ignorance, as well as dismay.

'First of all,' said d.i.c.k, drawing a long breath, 'I have not seen O'Shea; n.o.body is admitted to see him. His injuries about the head are so severe the doctors are in dread of erysipelas.'

'What if he had? Have not every one of us had the erysipelas some time or other; and, barring the itching, what's the great harm?'

'The doctors declare that if it come, they will not answer for his life.'

'They know best, and I'm afraid they know why also. Oh dear, oh dear!

if there's anything the world makes no progress in, it's the science of medicine. Everybody now dies of what we all used to have when I was a boy!

Sore throats, smallpox, colic, are all fatal since they've found out Greek names for them, and with their old vulgar t.i.tles they killed n.o.body.'

'Gorman is certainly in a bad way, and Dr. Rogan says it will be some days before he could p.r.o.nounce him out of danger.'

'Can he be removed? Can we take him back with us to Kilgobbin?'

'That is utterly out of the question; he cannot be stirred, and requires the most absolute rest and quiet. Besides that, there is another difficulty--I don't know if they would permit us to take him away.'

'What! do you mean, refuse our bail?'

'They have got affidavits to show old Gill's life's in danger; he is in high fever to-day, and raving furiously, and if he should die, McEvoy declares that they'll be able to send bills for manslaughter, at least, before the grand-jury.'

'There's more of it!' cried Kilgobbin, with a long whistle. 'Is it Rogan swears the fellow is in danger?'

'No, it's Tom Price, the dispensary doctor; and as Miss Betty withdrew her subscription last year, they say he swore he'd pay her off for it.'

'I know Tom, and I'll see to that,' said Kearney. 'Are the affidavits sworn?'

'No. They are drawn out; McEvoy is copying them now; but they'll be ready by three o'clock.'

'I'll have Rogan to swear that the boy must be removed at once. We'll take him over with us; and once at Kilgobbin, they'll want a regiment of soldiers if they mean to take him. It is nigh twelve o'clock now, is it not?'

'It is on the stroke of two, sir.'

'Is it possible? I believe I overslept myself in the strange bed. Be alive now, d.i.c.k, and take the 2.40 train to town. Call on McKeown, and find out where Miss Betty is stopping; break this business to her gently--for with all that d.a.m.nable temper, she has a fine womanly heart--tell her the poor boy was not to blame at all: that he went over to see her, and knew nothing of the place being let out or hired; and tell her, besides, that the blackguards that beat him were not her own people at all, but villains from another barony that old Gill brought over to work on short wages. Mind that you say that, or we'll have more law, and more trouble--notices to quit, and the devil knows what. I know Miss Betty well, and she'd not leave a man on a town-land if they raised a finger against one of her name! There now, you know what to do: go and do it!'

To hear the systematic and peremptory manner in which the old man detailed all his directions, one would have p.r.o.nounced him a model of orderly arrangement and rule. Having despatched d.i.c.k to town, however, he began to bethink him of all the matters on which he was desirous to learn Miss O'Shea's mind. Had she really leased the Barn to this man Gill: and if so, for what term? And was her quarrel with her nephew of so serious a nature that she might hesitate as to taking his side here--at least, till she knew he was in the right; and then, was he in the right? That was, though the last, the most vital consideration of all.

'I'd have thought of all these if the boy had not flurried me so. These hot-headed fellows have never room in their foolish brains for anything like consecutive thought; they can just entertain the one idea, and till they dismiss that, they cannot admit another. Now, he'll come back by the next train, and bring me the answer to one of my queries, if even that?'

sighed he, as he went on with his dressing.

'All this blessed business,' muttered he to himself, 'comes of this blundering interference with the land-laws. Paddy hears that they have given him some new rights and privileges, and no mock-modesty of his own will let him lose any of them, and so he claims everything. Old experience had taught him that with a bold heart and a blunderbuss he need not pay much rent; but Mr. Gladstone--long life to him--had said, ”We must do something for you.” Now what could that be? He'd scarcely go so far as to give them out Minie rifles or Cha.s.sepots, though arms of precision, as they call them, would have put many a poor fellow out of pain--as Bob Magrath said when he limped into the public-house with a ball in his back--”It's only a 'healing measure,' don't make a fuss about it.”'

'Mr. Flood wants to see your honour when you're dressed,' said the waiter, interrupting his soliloquy.

'Where is he?'