Part 18 (1/2)

”This is to speak hardly, f.a.gan,” said my father, mildly. ”Men like poor Rutledge have their good qualities, though they be not such as you and I set store by. I never thought so myself, but others, indeed, deemed him a most amusing companion, and with more than an ordinary share of wit and pleasantry.”

”The wit and pleasantry were both exerted to make his friends ridiculous, sir,” said f.a.gan, severely. ”He was a man that lived upon a reputation for smartness, gained at the expense of every good feeling.”

”I'll wager a trifle, Tony,” said my father, laughing, ”that he died deep in your books. Come, be frank, and say how much this unhappy affair will cost you.”

”Not so dearly as it may you, sir,” whispered f.a.gan in my father's ear; and the words nearly overcame him.

”How so?--what do you mean?” muttered my father, in a broken, faltering voice.

”Come this way for a moment, Mr. Carew,” said the other, aloud, ”and I'll show you my snuggery, where I live, apart from all the world.”

My father followed him into a small chamber, where f.a.gan at once closed the door and locked it, and then, approaching him, pulled forth from beneath his loose cuff a lace ruffle stained and clotted with blood.

”It is fortunate for you, Mr. Carew,” said he, ”that Raper is so un.o.bservant; any other than he would have seen this, and this;” and as he spoke the last words, he pointed to a small portion of a b.l.o.o.d.y handkerchief which projected outside the s.h.i.+rt-frill.

So overwhelmed was my father by these evidences that he sank powerless into a chair, without strength to speak.

”How was it?--how did it occur?” asked f.a.gan, sitting down in front of him, and placing one hand familiarly on my father's knee. Simple as the action was, it was a liberty that he had never dared before to take with my father, who actually shuddered at the touch, as though it had been a pollution.

”Unpremeditated, of course, I conclude,” said f.a.gan, still endeavoring to lead him on to some explanation. My father nodded.

”Unwitnessed also,” said f.a.gan, slowly. Another nod implied a.s.sent.

”Who knows of your presence in Dublin?--Who has seen you since your arrival in Dublin?” asked he.

”None of my acquaintances, so far, at least, as I know. I went, by a mere accident, to an hotel where I am not known. By another accident, if I dare so call it, I fell upon this rencontre. I will endeavor to tell you the whole, as it occurred,--that is, if I can sufficiently collect myself; but first let me have some wine, f.a.gan, for I am growing weak.”

As f.a.gan left the room, he pa.s.sed the desk where Raper was already seated, hard at work, and, laying his hand on the clerk's shoulder, he whispered,--

”Be cautious that you do not mention Mr. Carew's arrival here. There is a writ out against him for debt, and he has come up here to be out of the way.”

Raper heard the words without even discontinuing to write, and merely muttered a brief ”Very well,” in reply.

When f.a.gan re-entered the chamber, he found my father just rallying from a fainting-fit, which loss of blood and agitation together had brought on. Two or three gla.s.ses of wine, hastily swallowed, restored him, and he was again able to converse.

”Can you be traced to this house? Is there any clew to you here?” asked f.a.gan, resuming his former seat.

”None, so far as I know. The affair occurred thus--”

”Pardon my interrupting you,” broke in f.a.gan; ”but the most important thing at this moment is, to provide for your safety, in the event of any search after you. Have you any ground to apprehend this?”

”None whatever. You shall hear the story.”

”They are talking of it outside!” whispered f.a.gan, with a gesture of his hand to enforce caution; ”let us listen to them.” And he slowly unlocked the door, and left it to stand ajar.

The outer shop was by this time filling with the small fruit-vendors of the capital,--a cla.s.s peculiarly disposed to collect and propagate the gossip of the day; and f.a.gan well knew how much the popular impression would depend upon the coloring of their recital.

”'T is lucky,” said one, ”that his watch and money was on him, or they 'd say at once it was the boys done it.”

”Faix! they could n't do that,” broke in another; ”there's marks about the place would soon contradict them.”