IN WHICH, WHILE THE HARMONY CONTINUES IN FATHER ROACH'S FRONT PARLOUR, A
FEW DISCORDS ARE INTRODUCED ELSEWHERE; AND DOCTOR TOOLE ARRIVES IN THE
MORNING WITH A MARVELLOUS BUDGET OF NEWS.
The good people who had established themselves in poor Nutter's domicile
did not appear at all disconcerted by the priest's summons. His knock at
the hall-door was attended to with the most consummate assurance by
M. M.'s maid, just as if the premises had belonged to her mistress all
her days.
Between this hussy and his reverence, who was in no mood to be trifled
with, there occurred in the hall some very pretty sparring, which ended
by his being ushered into the parlour, where sat Mistress Matchwell and
Dirty Davy, the 'tea-things' on the table, and an odour more potent than
that of the Chinese aroma circulating agreeably through the chamber.
I need not report the dialogue of the parties, showing how the honest
priest maintained, under sore trial, his character for politeness while
addressing a lady, and how he indemnified himself in the style in which
he 'discoorsed' the attorney; how his language fluctuated between the
persuasively religious and the horribly profane; and how, at one crisis
in the conversation, although he had self-command enough to bow to the
matron, he was on the point of cracking the lawyer's crown with the fine
specimen of Irish oak which he carried in his hand, and, in fact,
nothing but his prudent respect for that gentleman's cloth prevented his
doing so.
'But supposin', Ma'am,' said his reverence, referring to the astounding
allegation of her marriage with Nutter; 'for the sake of argumint, it
should turn out to be so, in coorse you would not like to turn the poor
woman out iv doors, without a penny in her pocket, to beg her bread?'
'Your friend up stairs, Sir, intended playing the lady for the rest of
her days,' answered M. M., with a cat-like demureness, sly and cruel, 'at
my cost and to my sorrow. For twenty long years, or nigh hand it, she
has lived with my husband, consuming my substance, and keeping me in
penury. What did she allow me all that time?--not so much as that
crust--ha! ha!--no, not even allowed my husband to write me a line, or
send me a shilling. I suppose she owes me for her maintenance here--in
my house, out of my property--fully two thousand pounds. Make money of
that, Sir;--and my lawyer advises me to make her pay it.'
'Or rather to make her account, Ma'am; or you will, if she's disposed to
act fairly, take anything you may be advised, to be reasonable and
equitable, Ma'am,' interposed Dirty Davy.
'That's it,' resumed Madam Mary. 'I don't want her four bones. Let her
make up one thousand pounds--that's reason, Sir--and I'll forgive her
the remainder. But if she won't, then to gaol I'll send her, and there
she may rot for me.'
'You persave, Sir,' continued the attorney; 'your client--I mane your
friend--has fixed herself in the character of an agent--all the late
gintleman's money, you see, went through her hands--an agent or a
steward to Charles Nutther, desased--an' a coort iv equity'll hould her
liable to account, ye see; an' we know well enough what money's past
through her hands annually--an' whatever she can prove to have been
honestly applied, we'll be quite willin' to allow; but, you see, we must
have the balance!'
'Balance!' said the priest, incensed beyond endurance; 'if you stay
balancin' here, my joker, much longer, you'll run a raysonable risk of
balancin' by the neck out iv one of them trees before the doore.'
'So you're threatenin' my life, Sir!' said the attorney, with a sly
defiance.
'You lie like the divil, Sir--savin' your presence, Ma'am. Don't you
know the differ, Sir, between a threat an' a warnin', you bosthoon?'
thundered his reverence.
'You're sthrivin' to provoke me to a brache iv the pace, as the company
can testify,' said Dirty Davy.
'Ye lie again, you--you fat crature--'tis thryin' to provoke you to
_keep_ the pace I am. Listen to me, the both o' yez--the leedy up
stairs, the misthress iv this house, and widow of poor Charles
Nutter--Mrs. Sally Nutther, I say--is well liked in the parish; an' if
they get the wind o' the word, all I say 's this--so sure as you're
found here houldin' wrongful possession of her house an' goods, the boys
iv Palmerstown, Castleknock, and Chapelizod will pay yez a visit you
won't like, and duck yez in the river, or hang yez together, like a pair
of common robbers, as you unquestionably _are--not_,' he added, with a
sudden sense of legal liability.
'Who's that?' demanded the lynx-eyed lady, who saw Pat Moran cross the
door in the shadow of the lobby.
'That's Mr. Moran, a most respectable and muscular man, come here to
keep possession, Madam, for Mrs. Sally Nutther, our good friend and
neighbour, Ma'am,' replied the priest.
'As you plase, Sir,' replied the attorney; 'you're tumblin' yourself and
your friend into a nice predicament--as good a consthructive ousther, vi
et armis, as my client could possibly desire. Av coorse, Sir, we'll seek
compensation in the regular way for this violent threspass; and we have
you criminally, you'll obsarve, no less than civilly.'
'Now, look--onderstand me--don't affect to misteek, av you plase,'
said the priest, not very clear or comfortable, for he had before
had one or two brushes with the law, and the recollection was
disagreeable: 'I--Mr. Moran--we're here, Sir--the both iv us, as you
see--pacibly--and--and--all to that--and at the request of Mrs. Sally
Nutther--mind that, too--at her special desire--an' I tell you what's
more--if you make any row here--do you mind--I'll come down with the
magisthrate an' the soldiers, an' lave it to them to dale with you
accordin'--mind ye--to law an' equity, civil, human, criminal, an'
divine--an' make money o' that, ye--ye--mountain in labour--savin' your
presence, Ma'am.'
'I thank you--that'll do, Sir,' said the lawyer, with a lazy chuckle.
'I'll now do myself the honour to make my compliments to Mrs. Sally
Nutther,' said Father Roach, making a solemn bow to Mrs. Matchwell, who,
with a shrill sneer, pursued him as he disappeared with--
'The lady in the bed-room, your reverence?'
Whereat Dirty Davy renewed his wheezy chuckle.
Nothing daunted, the indignant divine stumped resolutely up stairs, and
found poor Sally Nutter, to whose room he was joyfully admitted by
honest Betty, who knew his soft honest brogue in a panic, the violence
of which had almost superseded her grief. So he consoled and fortified
the poor lady as well as he could, and when she urged him to remain in
the house all night.
'My dear Ma'am,' says he, lifting his hand and shaking his head, with
closed eyes, 'you forget my ca_rac_ter. Why, the house is full iv
faymales. My darlin' Mrs. Nutther, I--I couldn't enthertain sich an
idaya; and, besides,' said he, with sudden energy, recollecting that the
goose might be overdone, 'there's a religious duty, my dear Ma'am--the
holy sacrament waitin'--a pair to be married; but Pat Moran will keep
them quiet till mornin,' and I'll be down myself to see you then. So my
sarvice to you, Mrs. Nutther, and God bless you, my dear Ma'am.'
And with this valediction the priest departed, and from the road he
looked back at the familiar outline of the Mills, and its thick clumps
of chimneys, and two twinkling lights, and thought of the horrible and
sudden change that had passed over the place and the inmates, and how a
dreadful curse had scathed them: making it, till lately the scene of
comfort and tranquillity, to become the hold of every foul spirit, and
the cage of every unclean and hateful bird.
Doctor Toole arrived at ten o'clock next morning, with news that shook
the village. The inquest was postponed to the evening, to secure the
attendance of some witnesses, who could throw a light, it was thought,
on the enquiry. Then Doctor Toole was examined, and identified the body
at first, confidently.
'But,' said he, in the great parlour of the Phoenix, where he held
forth, 'though the features were as like as two eggs, it struck me the
forehead was a thought broader. So, said I, I can set the matter at rest
in five minutes. Charles Nutter's left upper arm was broken midway, and
I set it; there would be the usual deposit where the bone knit, and he
had a sword thrust through his right shoulder, cicatrised, and very well
defined; and he had lost two under-teeth. Well, the teeth _were_ gone,
but three instead of two, and on laying the arm-bone bare, 'twas plain
it had never been broken, and, in like manner, nothing wrong with the
right shoulder, and there was nothing like so much deltoid and biceps as
Nutter had. So says I, at once, be that body whose it may, 'tis none of
Charles Nutter's, and to that I swear, gentlemen; and I had hardly made
an end when 'twas identified for the corpse of the French hair-dresser,
newly arrived from Paris, who was crossing the Liffey, on Tuesday night,
you remember, at the old ferry-boat slip, and fell in and was drowned.
So that part of the story's ended.
'But, gentlemen,' continued Toole, with the important and resolute
bearing of a man who has a startling announcement to make, 'I am sorry
to have to tell you that poor Charles Nutter's in gaol.'
In gaol! was echoed in all sorts of tones from his auditory, with an
abundance of profane ejaculations of wonderment, concern, and horror.
'Ay, gentlemen, in the body of the gaol.'
Then it came out that Nutter had been arrested that very morning, in a
sedan-chair, at the end of Cook Street, and was now in the county prison
awaiting his trial; and that, no doubt, bail would be refused, which,
indeed, turned out truly.
So, when all these amazing events had been thoroughly discussed, the
little gathering dispersed to blaze them abroad, and Toole wrote to Mr.
Gamble, to tell him that the person, Mary Matchwell, claiming to be the
wife of Charles Nutter, has established herself at the Mills, and is
disposed to be troublesome, and terrifies poor Mrs. Sally Nutter, who is
ill; it would be a charity to come out, and direct measures. I know not
what ought to be done, though confident her claim is a bag of moonshine
and lies, and, if not stopped, she'll make away with the goods and
furniture, which is mighty hard upon this unfortunate lady,' etc., etc.
'That Mary Matchwell, as I think, ought to be in gaol for the assault on
Sturk; her card, you know, was found in the mud beside him, and she's
fit for any devil's work.'
This was addressed by Toole to his good wife.
'That _card?_ said Jimmey, who happened to be triturating a powder in
the corner for little Master Barney Sturk, and who suspended operations,
and spoke with the pestle in his fingers, and a very cunning leer on his
sharp features: 'I know all about that card.'
'You do--do you? and why didn't you spake out long ago, you vagabond?'
said Toole. 'Well, then! come now!--what's in your knowledge-box?--out
with it.'
'Why, I had that card in my hand the night Mr. Nutter went off.'
'Well?--go on.'
''Twas in the hall at the Mills, Sir; I knew it again at the Barracks
the minute I seen it.'
'Why, 'tis a printed card--there's hundreds of them--how d'ye know one
from t'other, wisehead?'
'Why, Sir, 'twas how this one was walked on, and the letter M. in Mary
was tore across, an' on the back was writ, in red ink, for Mrs.
Macnamara, and they could not read it down at the Barracks, because the
wet had got at it, and the end was mostly washed away, and they thought
it was MacNally, or MacIntire; but I knew it the minute I seen it.'
'Well, my tight little fellow, and what the dickens has all that to do
with the matter?' asked Toole, growing uneasy.
'The dickens a much, I believe, Sir; only as Mr. Nutter was goin' out he
snatched it out o' my hand--in the hall there--and stuffed it into his
pocket.'
'You did not tell that lying story, did you, about the town, you
mischievous young spalpeen?' demanded the doctor, shaking his disciple
rather roughly by the arm.
'No--I--I didn't--I did not tell, Sir--what is it to me?' answered the
boy, frightened.
'You didn't tell--not you, truly. I lay you a tenpenny-bit there isn't a
tattler in the town but has the story by rote--a pretty kettle o' fish
you'll make of it, with your meddling and lying. If 'twas true, 'twould
be another matter, but--hold your tongue;--how the plague are you to
know one card from another when they're all alike, and Mrs. Macnamara,
Mrs. Macfiddle. I suppose _you_ can read better than the _adjutant_, ha,
ha! Well, mind my words, you've got yourself into a pretty predicament;
I'd walk twice from this to the county court-house and back again, only
to look at it; a pleasant cross-hackling the counsellors will give you,
and if you prevaricate--you know what that is, my boy--the judge will
make short work with you, and you may cool your heels in gaol as long as
he pleases, for me.'
'And, look'ee,' said Toole, returning, for he was going out, as he
generally did, whenever he was profoundly ruffled; 'you remember the
affidavit-man that was whipped and pilloried this time two years for
perjury, eh? Look to it, my fine fellow. There's more than me knows how
Mr. Nutter threatened to cane you that night--and a good turn 'twould
have been--and 'twouldn't take much to persuade an honest jury that you
wanted to pay him off for that by putting a nail in his coffin, you
young miscreant! Go on--do--and I promise you'll get an airing yet
you'll not like--you will.'
And so Toole, with a wag of his head, and a grin over his shoulder,
strutted out into the village street, where he was seen, with a pursed
mouth, and a flushed visage, to make a vicious cut or two with his cane
in the air as he walked along. And it must be allowed that Master
Jimmey's reflections were a little confused and uncomfortable, as he
pondered over the past and the future with the pestle in his fingers and
the doctor's awful words ringing in his ears.