RETROSPECTIVE.
As story-tellers of every description have, from time immemorial,
been considered free from those niceties by which all attempts in
the nobler classes of literature are, or should be restrained, we
consider no apology necessary for requesting the reader to leap over
with us the space of four months; but still, before we continue our
tale from that date, it will be as well that we should give a short
outline of the principal events which produced the state in which the
circumstances of the Macdermots will then be found, and we are sorry
to say that they were not such as could offer much consolation to
them.
It will be remembered that Pat Brady was commissioned by his master
to take Ussher's body to the police station at Carrick, in Fred
Brown's gig. This commission he promptly performed, and also that
of restoring the gig to its owner; and after having thus completed
his master's behests like a good servant, he paid a visit on his own
account to Mr. Keegan.
Although it was late, he still found that active gentleman up,
and gave him a tolerably accurate account of what had happened at
Ballycloran, adding that "the young masther had gone off to join the
boys, at laste that's what he supposed he'd be afther now." As soon
as Keegan's surprise was a little abated, he perceived that the
affair would probably act as a stepping-stone, on which he might walk
into Ballycloran even sooner than he had hitherto thought to do; and
when, as one of the jurors at the coroner's inquest, on the next
morning, he saw that poor Larry had evidently fallen into absolute
idiotcy, and heard that Thady had, in fact, escaped, he instantly
determined to take such legal steps on behalf of his father-in-law as
would put the property under his management. And this, accordingly,
he did. The proper steps for proving the old man to be of unsound
mind would have been attended with very great expense; instead
of doing this, he got himself made receiver over the property,
and determined to arrest Larry, which, in his existing state, he
conceived he should have no difficulty in doing. Here, however, he
found himself very much mistaken, for nothing could induce the old
man to leave his own room, or so much as allow the front door to
be unlocked. Mary Brady still continued to attend him every day,
returning home to her husband after sunset, and she found him very
easy to manage in every other particular, as long as he was allowed
to have his own way in this.
He had quite lost the triumphant feeling which led him to boast
in the streets of Carrick, after leaving the inquest, that he had
escaped from Flannelly's power, and that he would never have to pay
him another farthing; for now if he heard a strange step, he fancied
it to be a bailiff's, and if there was the slightest noise in the
house, he thought that an attempt was being made to drag him off by
violence. It was a miserable sight to see the old man, thin, wan, and
worn out, sitting during that cold winter, by a few sods of turf,
with the door of his own room ajar, watching the front door from
morning till night, to see that no one opened it. Before Christmas he
had his bed brought down into the same room, in order that he might
not be betrayed into the hands of his enemies in the morning before
he was up, and from that time no inducement could prevail on him to
leave the room for a moment.
During this time his poverty was very great; the tenants had been
served with legal notices to pay neither to him nor to Thady any
portion of their rents, and consequently provisions were very low and
very scarce at Ballycloran; in fact, had it not been for the kindness
of Father John, Mr. McKeon, and Counsellor Webb, whose property
was adjoining to Ballycloran, Larry would have been starved into a
surrender. Mr. Webb went so far as to interfere with Mr. Keegan,
and to point out to him that in all humanity he should stay his
proceedings till after Thady's trial, but Keegan replied that he was
only acting for Mr. Flannelly, who was determined to have the matter
settled at once; that all he wanted was his own, and that he had
already waited too long.
When Keegan found that Larry Macdermot, in spite of his infirmities,
was too wary to be caught, he endeavoured to bribe Mary to open the
door to his emissaries, and to betray the old man; but though Mary
was very fond of money, she was too honest for this, and she replied
to the attorney by telling him, "that for all the money in the bank
of Carrick, she wouldn't be the one to trate the ould blood that
way." Larry consequently still held out at Ballycloran, living on the
chance presents of his friends, who sent him at one time a few stone
of potatoes, at another a pound of tea, then a bit of bacon, or a few
bottles of whiskey; this last, however, was confided to Mary, with
injunctions not to allow him too frequently to have recourse to the
only comforter that was left to him.
Though Keegan failed to gain admission into the house, and could not
therefore put himself into absolute possession of the estate, still
he could do what he pleased with the lands, and he was not long in
availing himself of the power. In January he served notices on all
the tenants that unless the whole arrears were paid on or before the
end of the next month, they would be ejected; and to many of those
who held portions of the better part of the land, he sent summary
notices to quit on the first of May next following. These notices
were all served by Pat, who assured the tenants that he only
performed the duties which he had now undertaken that he might look
after Mr. Thady's interests, and as, as he said, "there could be
no use in life in his refusing to do it, for av he didn't, another
would, and the tenants would be no betther, and he a dale the worse."
These things by no means tended to make Keegan's name popular on the
estate, particularly at Drumleesh, where the tenants were but ill
prepared to pay their rent by small portions at a time, and were
utterly confounded at the idea of having to pay up the arrears in a
lump; but Pat assured him that although they were surly and sullen,
they gave no signs or showed any determination of having recourse to
violence, or of openly rebelling against the authority of their new
landlord.
Pat, however, knew but little of what was going on amongst them now.
Although they found no absolute fault with the arguments which he
used for acting on Mr. Keegan's behalf, still he soon discovered that
the tenants had withdrawn their confidence from him, and that they
looked upon him rather as the servant of their new tyrant, than as
the friend to whom they had been accustomed to turn, when they wanted
any little favour from their old master. He had moreover discontinued
his visits to Mrs. Mulready's, and had for a long time seen nothing
of Joe Reynolds and his set, who spent most of their time in
Aughacashel, or at any rate away from Drumleesh.
Joe Reynolds had been altogether unable to account for Thady's sudden
disappearance from Aughacashel. At first he thought he must have been
taken prisoner by some of the police, whilst roaming about in the
neighbourhood; and although he ultimately heard that Father John and
he had gone together to Counsellor Webb's, still he never could learn
how Thady had fallen into the priest's hands. Joe, however, did not
forget that Thady had done what he considered the good service of
ridding the country of Ussher, and he swore that he would repay
it by punishing the man, who in his estimation was robbing Thady
of his right and his property; he had long since declared at Mrs.
Mulready's, as we are aware, that if Thady would come over and join
his party, Keegan should not come upon the estate with impunity, and
he was now determined to keep his word.
Keegan, trusting to the assurance of Pat, that the tenants were all
quiet and peaceable, at length began to go among them himself, and
had, about the beginning of February, once or twice ridden over
portions of the property. About five o'clock one evening in that
month, he was riding towards home along the little lane that
skirts Drumleesh bog, after having seen as much of that delectable
neighbourhood as a man could do on horseback, when his horse was
stopped by a man wrapped in a very large frieze coat, but whose face
was not concealed, who asked him, "could he spake to his honer about
a bit of land that he was thinking of axing afther, when the man that
was on it was put off, as he heard war to be done." As the man said
this he laid his hands on the bridle, and Keegan fearing from this
that something was not right, put his hand into his coat pocket,
where his pistols were, and told the man to come to him at Carrick,
if he wanted to say anything. The man, however, continued, "av his
honer wouldn't think it too much throuble jist to come down for one
moment, he'd point out the cabin which he meant." Keegan was now sure
from the man's continuing to keep his hand on the bridle, that some
injury to him was intended, and was in the act of drawing his pistol
from his pocket, when he was knocked altogether from off his horse by
a blow which he received on the head with a large stone, thrown from
the other side of one of the banks which ran along the road. The blow
and the fall completely stunned him, and when he came to himself he
was lying on the road; the man who had stopped his horse was kneeling
on his chest; a man, whose face was blackened, was holding down
his two feet, and a third, whose face had also been blackened,
was kneeling on the road beside him with a small axe in his hand.
Keegan's courage utterly failed him when he saw the sharp instrument
in the ruffian's grasp; he began to promise largely if they would let
him escape--forgiveness--money--land--anything--everything for his
life. Neither of them, however, answered him, and before the first
sentence he uttered was well out of his mouth, the instrument fell on
his leg, just above the ankle, with all the man's force; the first
blow only cut his trousers and his boot, and bruised him sorely,--for
his boots protected him; the second cut the flesh, and grated against
the bone; in vain he struggled violently, and with all the force of
a man struggling for his life; a third, and a fourth, and a fifth
descended, crushing the bone, dividing the marrow, and ultimately
severing the foot from the leg. When they had done their work, they
left him on the road, till some passer by should have compassion on
him, and obtain for him the means of conveyance to his home.
In a short time Keegan fainted from loss of blood, but the cold frost
soon brought him to his senses; he got up and hobbled to the nearest
cabin, dragging after him the mutilated foot, which still attached
itself to his body by the cartilages and by the fragments of his
boot and trousers; and from thence reached his home on a country car,
racked by pain, which the jolting of the car and the sharp frost did
not tend to assuage.
At the time of which we are writing--about the first week in
March--he had been entirely unable to ascertain any of the party by
whom he had been attacked. The men were Dan Kennedy, Joe Reynolds,
and Corney Dolan; of these, Joe alone was personally known to Keegan,
and it was he who used the axe with such fell cruelty; but he had
been so completely disguised at the time, that Keegan had not in the
least recognised him. Dan was the man who had at first stopped the
horse, and he being confident that Keegan had not even heard his
name, and that he was very unlikely to be in any place where his
victim could again see him so as to know him, had not feared to stop
the horse, and address its rider without any disguise.
This act, which was originally proposed and finally executed more
with the intent of avenging Thady, than with any other purpose, was
the most unfortunate thing for him that could have happened; for in
the first place it made the magistrates and the government imagine
that the country was in a disorderly state generally, and that it
was therefore necessary to follow up the prosecutions at the Assizes
with more than ordinary vigour; and in the next place, it made Keegan
determined to do all that he could to secure Thady's conviction,
for he attributed his horrible mutilation to the influence of the
Macdermots.
Other things had also occurred during the four months since Thady had
given himself up to the authorities, which had determined the law
officers of the government to follow up Ussher's murderer with all
severity, and obtain if possible a conviction.
The man who had been sent to Mohill in Ussher's place was by no means
his equal either in courage, determination, or perseverance; still
it had been necessary for him to follow to a certain degree in his
predecessor's steps, especially as at the time illicit distillation
had become more general in the country than it had ever been known to
be before. A man named Cogan, who had acted very successfully as a
spy to Ussher, also offered his services to the new officer, by whom
they were accepted. This man had learnt that potheen was being made
at Aughacashel, and, dressed in the uniform of one of the Revenue
police, had led the men to Dan Kennedy's cabin. Here they merely
found Abraham, the cripple, harmlessly employed in superintending the
boiling of some lumpers, and Andy McEvoy in the other cabin, sitting
on his bed; not a drop of potheen--not a grain of malt--not a utensil
used in distillation was found, and they had to return foiled and
beaten.
The new officer, whose name was Foster, also received various
threatening letters, and among them the following:--
This is to giv' notis, Captin Furster, av you'll live
and let live, and be quite an' pacable--divil a rason is
there, why you need be afeard--but av you go on among the
Leatrim boys--as that bloody thundhering ruffin Ussher, by
the etarnal blessed Glory, you wul soon be streatched as
he war--for the Leatrim boys isn't thim as wul put up with
it.
This was only one of many that he received--and these, together with
the futility of his first attempt--a tremendous stoning which he and
his men received in the neighbourhood of Drumshambo--the burning of
Cogan's cabin, and the fate of his predecessor, totally frightened
him; and he represented to the head office in Dublin that the country
was in such a state, that he was unable, with the small body of men
at his command, to carry on his business with anything approaching to
security.
These things all operated much against the chance of Thady's
acquittal, and his warmest friends could not but feel that they did
so. People in the country began to say that some severe example
was necessary--that the country was in a dreadful state--and that
the government must be upheld; and these fears became ten times
greater, when it was generally known that Thady, a day or two before
the catastrophe, had absolutely associated with some of the most
desperate characters in the country.
Brady, at first, had been unwilling to divulge all that he knew to
Mr. Keegan; for, though he felt no hesitation in betraying his old
master, he was not desirous to hang him; but Keegan, by degrees, got
it all out of him, and bribed so high that Pat, at last, consented to
come forward at the trial and swear to all the circumstances of the
meeting at Mrs. Mehan's, and the attorney lost no time in informing
the solicitor, who was to conduct the prosecution on behalf of the
crown, what this witness was able to prove.
All this was sad news for Father John, and his friend McKeon, but
still they would not despair. They talked the matter over and over
again in McKeon's parlour, and Tony occasionally almost forgot his
punch in his anxiety to put forward and make the most of all those
points, which he considered to be in Thady's favour. It was not only
the love of justice, his regard for the family of the Macdermots,
and Father John's eloquence which had enlisted McKeon so thoroughly
in Thady's interest,--though, no doubt, these three things had great
weight with him,--but his own personal predilections had also a
considerable share in doing so.
The three leading resident gentlemen in the neighbourhood were Sir
Michael Gibson, Mr. Jonas Brown, and Counsellor Webb; they were
the three magistrates who regularly attended the petty sessions at
Carrick; and as they usually held different opinions on all important
subjects relative to the locality in which they resided, so all their
neighbours swore by one of them, condemning the other two as little
better than fools or knaves.
Sir Michael was by far the richest, and would, therefore, naturally
have had the greatest number of followers, had it not been that it
was usually extremely difficult to find out what his opinion was.
He was neither a bad nor a good landlord--that is to say, his land
was seldom let for more than double its value; and his agent did
not eject his tenants as long as they contrived not to increase the
arrears which they owed when he undertook the management of the
property; but Sir Michael himself neither looked after their welfare,
or took the slightest care to see that they were comfortable.
On the bench, by attempting to agree with both his colleagues, he
very generally managed to express an opinion different from either of
them; and as he was, of course, the chairman, the decisions of the
bench were in consequence frequently of a rather singular nature;
however, on the whole, Sir Michael was popular, for if he benefited
none, he harmed none; and he was considered by many a safe
constitutional man, with no flighty ideas on any side.
Jonas Brown was hated by the poor. In every case he would, if he had
the power, visit every fault committed by them with the severest
penalty awarded by the law. He was a stern, hard, cruel man, with
no sympathy for any one, and was actuated by the most superlative
contempt for the poor, from whom he drew his whole income. He was
a clever, clear-headed, avaricious man; and he knew that the only
means of keeping the peasantry in their present utterly helpless and
dependent state, was to deny them education, and to oppose every
scheme for their improvement and welfare. He dreaded every movement
which tended to teach them anything, and when he heard of landlords
reducing their rents, improving cabins, and building schools, he
would prophesy to his neighbour, Sir Michael, that the gentry would
soon begin to repent of their folly, when the rents they had reduced
were not paid, the cabins which they had made comfortable were filled
with ribbonmen, and when the poor had learnt in the schools to
disobey their masters and landlords. Sir Michael never contradicted
all this, and he would probably have become a second Jonas Brown, and
much more injurious, because so much more extensive in his interests,
were it not for the counteracting influence of Counsellor Webb, who
was in all his opinions diametrically opposed to Mr. Brown.
Mr. Webb was a clear-headed, and a much more talented man than his
brother magistrate. He was, moreover, a kind-hearted landlord--ever
anxious to ameliorate the condition of the poor--and by no means
greedy after money, though he was neither very opulent nor very
economical. But, nevertheless, with all these high qualities he was
hardly the man most fit to do real good in a very poor and ignorant
neighbourhood. He was, in the first place, by far too fond of
popularity, and of being the favourite among the peasantry; and, in
the next, he had become so habituated to oppose Jonas Brown in all
his sayings and doings, that he now did so whether he was right or
wrong.
Thady's case had been much talked of in the country, and the rival
magistrates, of course, held diametrically opposite opinions
respecting it.
Jonas Brown had declared at his own table, that "unless that young
man were hanged, there would be an end to anything like law in the
country; his being the son of a landlord made it ten times worse; if
the landlords themselves turned ribbonmen, and taught the tenants all
manner of iniquity, and the law didn't then interfere, it would be
impossible to live in the country; he, for one, should leave it. Here
had a most praiseworthy servant of the crown--a man who had merited
the thanks of the whole country by the fearless manner in which he
had performed his duties, here," he said, "had this man been murdered
in cold blood by a known ribbonman, by one, who, as he understood,
had, a few days before the murder, conspired with others to commit
it; and yet he was told there were a pack of people through the
country--priests, and popularity hunters, who were not only using
their best endeavours to screen the murderer, but who absolutely
justified the deed. By G----d, he couldn't understand how a man,
holding the position of a gentleman, could so far forget what he owed
to his country and himself as to dirty his hands with such a filthy
business as this, however absurd his general opinions on politics
might be. As for the man's sister, that was all a got up story since
the business. Every one knew that the family had been trying to catch
the young man for the girl; she had been allowed to walk with Captain
Ussher at all hours, night and day; and he was doing no more than
walking with her when he was basely murdered by her brother. As for
him (Jonas Brown), he hoped and trusted the murderer would be hung as
he deserved."
The purport of this piece of after-dinner eloquence was duly conveyed
to Counsellor Webb, who fully appreciated the remarks about the
popularity-hunting gentleman who was dirtying his hands. Up to this
time these two men, though differing so widely from each other, had
still kept up a show of courtesy between them; but Mr. Brown's
remarks altogether put an end to it.
Counsellor Webb never again addressed him in friendly terms.
He did not, however, in the least relax his efforts on Thady's
behalf, or express less strongly his opinion on the case. He told Sir
Michael one morning in Carrick, after some public meeting at which
all the gentry of the neighbourhood had been present, and while many
of them, and among them Mr. Brown, were standing by, that "he had
lately been giving a great deal of very close attention to that very
distressing case of young Mr. Macdermot; he thought it was the most
melancholy and heartrending case he had ever known. It was proved
beyond possibility of doubt that Ussher was eloping with the young
man's sister; it seemed now to be pretty certain that the girl was
herself absolutely senseless at the time the occurrence took place;
he believed she had changed her mind, or got frightened, or what not;
it was now a known fact, that she was being dragged senseless in the
man's arms, when Macdermot attacked him. And was a brother to stand
by and look on at such a sight as that, and not protect his sister,
and punish the miscreant who was endeavouring to dishonour her? Was
Mr. Macdermot to turn his back upon the affair, and leave his sister
to her fate because, forsooth, the man who did it was a Revenue
officer? Let us bring the matter home to ourselves, Sir Michael," he
continued. "Suppose you saw that gay young Captain Jem Boyle hurrying
through the demesne at Knockadrum with one of your own fair flock in
his arms, violently carrying her off, wouldn't you not only knock him
down yourself, if you could catch him; but also set all your people
after him, begging them to do the same? Of course, you would; and
what more has this young man done? Unfortunately he struck too
hard; but that, although we may deplore the circumstance, shows no
criminality on his part; but only the strong indignation which he
very properly felt. As to the cock and bull story of his being a
ribbonman, no man of sense could entertain it. It appears that a
few nights before the occurrence he went to a tenant's wedding, and
unfortunately took a drop too much punch. That had been many a good
man's case before his. And then he got among a lot of men who were
uttering vague, nonsensical threats against different persons, whom
they disliked. One, I hear, says that Ussher was threatened; and
another--and, I am told, by far the more creditable witness--that it
was Keegan, the attorney, whose name was mentioned; it appears, that
when drunk, he promised to join these men in another drinking party,
which promise he, of course, never thought of keeping after he was
sober; and yet there are some who are cruel enough to say--I won't
say harsh enough to believe, for they can't believe it--that when he
attacked Ussher in his sister's defence, Macdermot was only carrying
into execution a premeditated plan of murdering him! Premeditated
indeed, when it was plain to every one, that it was by the merest
accident that he happened to be in the avenue at the time. People
might just as well say that it was he who cut off the attorney's
foot the other day, though he was in gaol at the time. I must say,"
continued the Counsellor, "that should the poor young man fall a
victim to the false evidence which I am aware private malice and
wretchedly vindictive feeling will supply, then the basest murder
will really have been committed which ever disgraced this county. I
don't envy the state of mind of any gentleman who can look forward
with a feeling of satisfaction to the prospect of that poor youth's
being hanged for protecting his sister, merely because the seducer
was in habits of intimacy with himself or his family."
Mr. Brown left the meeting, taking no immediate notice of the
Counsellor's philippic. It was not, however, because he did not
comprehend the latter part of it, or that he meant to overlook it.
Sir Michael was much distressed in making up his mind finally on
the subject. It was reported, however, soon after the meeting above
alluded to, that he had stated to some of his more immediate friends
and admirers, that "he considered it highly discreditable, he might
say disgraceful, for any of the more respectable classes to give any
countenance to the illegal meetings, which he was afraid were too
general through the country, and that there was too much reason to
fear that the unfortunate man in prison had been guilty in doing so;
but that there could be no doubt that every one was justified--he
might add, only performed his bounden duty--in protecting the females
of his family from injury or violence."
Now Tony McKeon was a tenant both of Sir Michael and of the
Counsellor; he also held land from other landlords, but he had no
connexion whatever with Mr. Brown: he was not at all the sort of
tenant that Jonas liked; for though he always punctually paid his
rent to the day, he usually chose to have everything his own way, and
would take no land except at a fair rent and on a long lease.
Mr. Webb, however, was his chief friend and principal ally in the
country. Sir Michael was altogether too grand for him, seeing that
Tony had no idea of being a humble dependent; but Mr. Webb would
occasionally come and dine with him--and often asked him in return.
Mrs. Webb too was civil to his wife and the girls--always lent them
the Dublin pattern for their frills, frocks, and other frippery--and
seldom drove into Drumsna without calling. The consequence was, that
the Counsellor was a man after Tony's own heart. Though they were of
different religions, they had, generally speaking, the same political
feelings and opinions--the same philanthropical principles--and the
same popular prejudices; and after a few years intimacy in each
other's neighbourhood, Mr. Webb well knew where to find a powerful
recruit for any service in which he might wish to enlist one.
Tony declared that if any one spoke ill of Feemy's character, he
should make it personal with himself; that he was ready, willing, and
moreover determined to quarrel with any one who dared to apply the
opprobrious name of murderer to Thady; and he had even been heard, on
one or two occasions, to stand up for Larry himself, and to declare
that although he might be a little light-headed or so, he was still
a deal better than those muddy-minded blackguards at Carrick who had
driven him to his present state.
For a long time Feemy had been very ill, but after Christmas she had
apparently got a little stronger; she would sit up in her bed-room
for a few hours in the day; but still she would talk to no one. Mrs.
McKeon endeavoured more than once to lead her to the subject which
she knew must be nearest her heart, thinking that if she could be got
to speak of it, she would be relieved; but in vain. In vain she tried
to interest her in her brother's fate--in vain she tried to make her
understand that Thady's safety--that his acquittal would, in a great
degree, depend on her being able to prove, at the trial, that at the
time when the occurrence took place, she was herself insensible.
She shuddered violently at the idea of being again questioned, and
declared with sobs that she should die if she were again dragged to
that horrid place. When Mrs. McKeon asked her if she would not make
a struggle to save her brother's life, she remained mute. It was
evident that it was for her lover that she was still grieving, and
that it was not the danger or ignominy of Thady's position that
afflicted her.
Mrs. McKeon, however, conceived it to be her duty to persevere with
her--and, at last, told her how wrong it was of her to give way to
a grief, which was in its first stage respected. Feemy answered
her only with tears; and on the next morning told her that she had
determined to return to Ballycloran, as she thought she would be
better there, at home with her father.
To this, however, Mrs. McKeon would not consent, and Feemy was told
that the doctor had forbidden her to be moved. She was, therefore,
obliged to remain satisfied for the present, as she had no means
of escaping from Drumsna; but she soon became more sullen than
ever--and, at last, almost refused to speak to any one.
Things went on in this way till about the middle of March. Feemy
constantly requested to be allowed to go home, which request was as
constantly refused; when different circumstances acting together gave
rise to a dreadful suspicion in Mrs. McKeon's mind. She began to
fear that Ussher, before his death, had accomplished the poor girl's
ruin, and that she was now in the family way. For some few days she
was determined to reject the idea, and endeavoured to make herself
believe that she was mistaken; but the more close her observations
were, the more certain she became that her suspicions were well
founded. She was much distressed as to what she should do. Her first
and most natural feelings were those of anger against Feemy, and
of dismay at the situation into which her own and her husband's
good nature had brought herself and her daughters; and she made
up her mind that Feemy should at once have her wish and return to
Ballycloran. But then, she might be mistaken--or even, if it were too
true--how could she turn the poor girl, weak, ill, and miserable, out
of her house, and send her to an empty unprovided barrack, inhabited
by an infirm, idiotical old man, where she could receive none of that
attention which her situation so much required?
She communicated her suspicions to the doctor, and after a few days'
observations, he told her that there was too much reason to fear that
the case was as she supposed. He, however, strongly advised her to
speak to Miss Macdermot herself on the subject. This she did, at
last, most tenderly, and with the greatest gentleness--but still
imploring Feemy to tell her the truth. Feemy, at first, could not
speak in reply; she threw herself on her bed sobbing most violently,
and fell from one fit into another, till Mrs. McKeon was afraid that
she would choke herself with the violence of her emotion. At last,
however, she declared that the accusation brought against her was
untrue--protested on her most solemn word and honour that it was not
the case--and ended by saying how thankful she was to Mrs. McKeon for
her kindness and protection, but that she must now beg her to allow
her to return to Ballycloran.
Feemy's denial of the charge against her was so firm, and so
positively made, that it very much shook her friend's suspicions.
When Feemy begged to be sent home, she told her not to agitate
herself at present--that they would all see how she was in a day or
two--and then speaking a few kind words to her, left her to herself.