BEFORE THE DOOR
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 passed 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 Dick 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
Dick 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 Dick, drawing a long breath, ‘I have not seen O’Shea;
nobody 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 titles they killed nobody.’
‘Gorman is certainly in a bad way, and Dr. Rogan says it will be some days
before he could pronounce 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, Dick, 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 damnable 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 pronounced him a model of orderly
arrangement and rule. Having despatched Dick 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 Minié rifles or Chassepots, 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?’
‘Walking up and down, sir, forenent the door.’
‘Will ye say I’m coming down? I’m just finishing a letter to the
Lord-Lieutenant,’ said Kilgobbin, with a sly look to the man, who returned
the glance with its rival, and then left the room.
‘Will you not come in and sit down?’ said Kearney, as he cordially shook
Flood’s hand.
‘I have only five minutes to stay, and with your leave, Mr. Kearney, we’ll
pass it here’; and taking the other’s arm, he proceeded to walk up and down
before the door of the inn.
‘You know Ireland well--few men better, I am told--and you have no need,
therefore, to be told how the rumoured dislikes of party, the reported
jealousies and rancours of this set to that, influence the world here.
It will be a fine thing, therefore, to show these people here that the
Liberal, Mr. Kearney, and that bigoted old Tory, Tom Flood, were to be seen
walking together, and in close confab. It will show them, at all events,
that neither of us wants to make party capital out of this scrimmage, and
that he who wants to affront one of us, cannot, on that ground, at least,
count upon the other. Just look at the crowd that is watching us already!
There ‘a a fellow neglecting the sale of his pig to stare at us, and that
young woman has stopped gartering her stocking for the last two minutes in
sheer curiosity about us.’
[Illustration: ‘Just look at the crowd that is watching us already’]
Kearney laughed heartily as he nodded assent.
‘You follow me, don’t you?’ asked Flood. ‘Well, then, grant me the favour
I’m about to ask, and it will show me that you see all these things as
I do. This row may turn out more seriously than we thought for. That
scoundrel Gill is in a high fever to-day--I would not say that just out of
spite the fellow would not die. Who knows if it may not become a great case
at the assizes; and if so, Kearney, let us have public opinion with us.
There are scores of men who will wait to hear what you and I say of this
business. There are hundreds more who will expect us to disagree. Let
us prove to them that this is no feud between Orange and Green, this is
nothing of dispute between Whig and Tory, or Protestant and Papist; but
a free fight, where, more shame to them, fifty fell upon one. Now what
you must grant me is leave to send this boy back to Kilgobbin in my own
carriage, and with my own liveries. There is not a peasant cutting turf
on the bog will not reason out his own conclusions when he sees it. Don’t
refuse me, for I have set my heart on it.’
‘I’m not thinking of refusing. I was only wondering to myself what my
daughter Kitty will say when she sees me sitting behind the blue and orange
liveries.’
‘You may send me back with the green flag over me the next day I dine with
you,’ cried Flood, and the compact was ratified.
‘It is more than half-past already,’ said Flood. ‘We are to have a full
bench at three; so be ready to give your bail, and I’ll have the carriage
at the corner of the street, and you shall set off with the boy at once.’
‘I must say,’ said Kearney, ‘whatever be your Tory faults, lukewarmness is
not one of them! You stand to me like an old friend in all this trouble.’
‘Maybe it’s time to begin to forget old grudges. Kearney, I believe in my
heart neither of us is as bad as the other thinks him. Are you aware that
they are getting affidavits to refuse the bail?’
‘I know it all; but I have sent a man to McEvoy about a case that will take
all his morning; and he’ll be too late with his affidavits.’
‘By the time he is ready, you and your charge will be snug in Kilgobbin;
and another thing, Kearney--for I have thought of the whole matter--you’ll
take out with you that little vermin Price, the doctor, and treat him
well. He’ll be as indiscreet as you wish, and be sure to give him the
opportunity. There, now, give me your most affectionate grasp of the hand,
for there’s an attentive public watching us.’