The priest had been a true prophet and a good doctor, and perhaps it
was well for all parties concerned that the dispensary M.D. had been
dispensed with. Emon now recovered his strength every day more and
more. The wound in his head had completely healed. There was scarcely
a mark left of where it had been, unless you blew his beautiful soft
hair aside, when a slight hard ridge was just perceptible. Father
Farrell had procured him a permanent job of some weeks, at rather an
increase of wages from what was "going" at the time, for the spring
business was now over and work was slack. But a gentleman who had
recently purchased a small property in that part of the country, and
intended to reside, had commenced alterations in the laying-out of the
grounds about his "mansion;" and meeting Father Farrell one day, asked
him if he could recommend a smart, handy man for a tolerably long job.
There would be a good deal of "skinning" and cutting of sods,
levelling hillocks, and filling up hollows, and wheeling of clay. For
the latter portion of the work, the man should have help. What he
wanted was a tasty, handy fellow, who would understand quickly what
was required as it was explained to him.
Father Farrell, as the gentleman said all this, thought that he must
have actually had Emon-a-knock in his mind's eye. He was the very man
on every account, and the priest at once recommended him. This job
would soon make up for all the time poor Emon had lost with his broken
head. And for his intelligence and taste Father Farrell had gone bail.
Thus it was that Emon after all had not broken the pound-note, but, in
spite of the priest, had hoarded it as a trophy of Winny's love.
Emon would have had a rather long walk every morning to his work, and
the same in the evening after it was over. But Mr. D---- on the very
first interview with young Lennon, was sharp enough to find out his
value as a rural engineer, and, for his own sake as well as Lennon's,
he made arrangements that he should stop at a tenant's house, not far
from the scene of his landscape-gardening, which was likely to last
for some time. Mr. D---- was not a man who measured a day's work by
its external extent. He looked rather to the manner of its
accomplishment, and would not allow the thing to be "run over." He did
not care for the expense; what he wanted was to have the thing well
done; and he gave Father Farrell great credit for his choice in a
workman. If he liked the job when it was finished, he did not say but
that he would give Lennon a permanent situation, as overseer, at a
fixed salary. But up to this time he had not seen, nor even heard of,
Winny Cavana, except what had been implied to his heart by the
priest's pound-note. He was further now from Rathcash chapel than
ever; nevertheless he would show himself there, "God willing," next
Sunday. What was Tom Murdock's surprise and chagrin on the following
Sunday to observe "that confounded whelp" on the road before him, as
he went to prayers--looking, too, better dressed, and as well and
handsome as ever! He thought he had "put a spoke in his wheel" for the
whole summer at the least; and before that was over, he had determined
to have matters irrevocably _clinched_ if not _settled_ with Miss
Winifred Cavana.
After what manner this was to be accomplished was only known to
himself and three others, associates in his villany.
The matter had been already discussed in all its bearings. All the
arguments in favor of, and opposed to, its success had been exhausted,
and the final result was, that the thing should be done, and was only
waiting a favorable opportunity to be put in practice. Some matters of
detail, however, had to be arranged, which would take some time; but
as the business was kept "dark" there was no hurry. Tom Murdock's
secret was safe in the keeping of his coadjutors, whose "oath of
brotherhood" bound them not only to inviolable silence, but to their
assistance in carrying out his nefarious designs.
The sight of young Lennon once more upon the scene gave a spur to
Tom's plans and determination. He had hoped that that "accidental tip"
which he had given him would at least have had the effect of reducing
him in circumstances and appearance, and have kept him in his own
parish. He knew that Lennon was depending upon his day's wages for
even the sustenance of life; that there was a family of at least four
beside himself to support; and he gloated himself over the idea that a
month or six weeks' sick idleness, recovering at best when there was
no work to be had, would have left "that whelp" in a condition almost
unpresentable even at his own parish chapel. What was his
mortification, therefore, when he now beheld young Lennon before him
on the road!
"By the table of war," he said in his heart, "this must hasten my
plans! I cannot permit an intimacy to be renewed in that quarter. I
must see my friends at once."
Winny Cavana, although she had not seen Emon-a-knock since the
accident, had taken care to learn through her peculiar resources how
"the poor fellow was getting on." Her friend Kate Mulvey was one of
these resources.
Although it has not yet oozed out in this story, it is necessary that
it should now do so: Phil M'Dermott, then, was a great admirer of Kate
Mulvey. He was one of those who advocated an interchange of
parishioners in the courting line. He did not think it fair that
"exclusive dealing" should be observed in such cases.
Now, useless as it was, and forlorn as had been hitherto the hope,
Phil M'Dermott, like all true lovers, could not keep away from his
cold-hearted Kate. It was a satisfaction to him at all events "to be
looking at her;" and somehow since Emon's accident she seemed more
friendly and condescending in her manner to poor Phil. It will be
remembered that Phil M'Dermott was a great friend of Emon-a-knock's,
and it may now be said that he was a near neighbor. It was natural,
then, that Kate Mulvey should find out all about Emon from him, and
"have word" for Winny when they met. This was one resource, and Father
Farrell, as he sometimes passed Kate's door, was another. Father
Farrell could guess very well, notwithstanding Kate's careless manner
of asking, that his information would not rest in her own breast, and
gave it as fully and satisfactorily as he could.
Kate Mulvey, however, "would not for the world" say a word to either
Phil M'Dermott or Father Farrell which could be construed as coming
from Winny Cavana to Emon-a-knock; she had Winny's strict orders to
that effect. But Kate felt quite at liberty to make any remarks she
chose, as coming from herself.
Poor Emon, upon this his first occasion of, it may be said, appearing
in public after his accident, was greeted, after prayers were over,
with a genuine cordiality by the Rathcash boys, and several times
interfered with in his object of "getting speech" of Winny Cavana, who
was some distance in advance, in consequence of these delays.
But Winny was not the girl to be frustrated by any unnecessary prudery
on such an occasion.
"Father," she said, "there's Emon at our chapel to-day for the first
time since he was hurt. Let us not be behindhand with the neighbors to
congratulate him on his recovery. I see all the Rathcash people are
glad to see him."
"And so they ought, Winny; I'm glad you told me he was here, for I did
not happen to see him. Stand where you are until he comes up." And the
old man stood patiently for some minutes while Emon's friends were
expressing their pleasure at his reappearance.
Winny had kept as clear as possible of Tom Murdock since the accident
at the hurling match; so much so that he could not but know it was
intentional.
Tom had remarked during prayers that Winny's countenance had
brightened up wonderfully when young Lennon came into the chapel, and
took a quiet place not far inside the door; for he had been kept
outside by the kind inquiries of his friends until the congregation
had become pretty throng. He had observed too, for he was on the
watch, that Winny's eyes had often wandered in the direction of the
door up to the time when "that whelp" had entered; but from that
moment, when he had observed the bright smile light up her face, she
had never turned them from the officiating priest and the altar.
Tom had not ventured to walk home with Winny from the chapel for some
Sundays past, nor would he to-day. What puzzled him not a little was
what his line of conduct ought to be with respect to Lennon, whom he
had not seen since the accident. His course was, however, taken
after a few moments' reflection. He did not forget that on the
occasion of the blow he had exhibited much sympathy with the sufferer,
and had declared it to have been purely accidental. He should keep up
that character of the affair now, or make a liar of himself, both as
to the past and his feelings.
"Beside," thought he, "I may so delay him that Miss Winifred cannot
have the face to delay for him so long."
Just then, as Emon had emancipated himself from the cordiality of
three or four young men, and was about to step out quickly to where he
saw Winny and her father standing on the road, Tom came up.
"Ah, Lennon!" he said, stretching out his hand, "I am glad to see you
in this part of the country again. I hope you are quite recovered."
"Quite, thank God," said Emon, pushing by without taking his hand.
"But I see Winny and her father waiting on the road, and I cannot stop
to talk to you;" and he strode on. Emon left out the "Cavana" in the
above sentence on purpose, because he knew the familiarity its
omission created would vex Tom Murdock.
"Bad luck to your impudence, you conceited cub, you!" was Murdock's
mental ejaculation as he watched the cordial greeting between him and
Winny Cavana, to say nothing of her father, who appeared equally glad
to see him.
Phil M'Dermott had come for company that day with Emon, and had
managed to join Kate Mulvey as they came out of chapel. She had her
eyes about her, and saw very well how matters had gone so far. For the
first time in her life she noticed the scowl on Tom Murdock's brow as
she came toward him.
"God between us and harm, but he looks wicked this morning!" thought
she; and she was almost not sorry when he turned suddenly round and
walked off without waiting for her so much as to "bid him the time of
day."
"That's more of it," said Tom to himself. "There is that one now
taking up with that tinker."
He felt something like the little boy who said, "What! will nobody
come and play with me?" But Tom did not, like him, become a good boy
after that.
He watched the Cavanas and Lennon, who had not left the spot where
Lennon came up with them until they were joined by Kate And Phil
M'Dermott, when they all walked on together, chatting and laughing as
if nobody in the world was wicked or unhappy.
He dodged them at some distance, and was not a little surprised to see
the whole party-"the whelp," "the tinker," and all--turn up the lane
and go into Cavana's house.
"_That will do_," said he; "I must see my friends this very night, and
before this day fortnight we'll see who will win the trick."
Emon-a-knock and Phil M'Dermott actually paid a visit to old Ned
Cavana's that Sunday. Tom Murdock had seen them going in, and he
minuted them by his silver hunting-watch--for he had one. His eye
wandered from the door to his watch, and from his watch to the door,
as if he were feeling the pulse of their visit. He thought he had
never seen Kate Mulvey looking so handsome, or Phil M'Dermott so clean
or so well-dressed.
But it mattered not. If Kate was a Venus, Tom will carry out his plans
with respect to Winny, and let Phil M'Dermott work his own point in
that other quarter. Not that he cared much for Winny herself, but he
wanted her farm, and he _hated "that whelp Lennon."_
They remained just twenty-five minutes in old Cavana's; this for Kate
Mulvey was nothing very wonderful, but for two young men--neither of
whom had ever darkened his doors before--Tom thought it rather a long
visit.
There they were now, going down the lane together, laughing and
chatting, all three seemingly in good humor.
Cranky and out of temper as he was, Tom's observation was correct in
more matters than one, Phil M'Dermott was particularly well-dressed on
this occasion, his first visit to Rathcash chapel. Perhaps after
to-day he may be oftener there than at his own.