Part 2 (1/2)
”By my soul, then,” replied the unflinching servant, ”if we go down you'll go up; and we have those belongin' to us that will see you kiss the hangman yet. Yerra, now, above all words in the alphabet what could put a gallows into your mouth? Faith, Randal, it's about your neck it'll go, and you'll put out your tongue at the daicent people that will attend your own funeral yet--that is, if you don't let us off.”
”Put them both to their knees,” said the Rapparee in a voice of thunder, ”to their knees with them. I'll take the masther, and, Kineely, do you take the man.”
The companions of the Rapparee could not avoid laughing at the comic courage displayed by c.u.mmiskey, and were about to intercede for him, when O'Donnel, which was his name, stamped with fury on the ground and asked them if they dared to disobey him. This sobered them at once, and in less than a minute Mr. Folliard and Andy were placed upon their knees, to await the terrific sentence which was about to be executed on them, in that wild and lonely moor, and under such appalling circ.u.mstances. When placed in the desired posture, to ask that mercy from G.o.d which they were not about to experience at the hands of man, Squire Folliard spoke:
”Red Rapparee,” said he, ”it is not that I am afraid of death as such, but I feel that I am not prepared to die. Suffer my servant and myself to go home without harm, and I shall engage not only to get you a pardon from the Government of the country, but I shall furnish you with money either to take you to some useful calling, or to emigrate to some foreign country, where n.o.body will know of your misdeeds, or the life you have led here.”
”Randal, my man,” added Andy, ”listen to what the gentleman says, and you may escape what you know yet. As for my master, Randal, let him pa.s.s, and take me in his place. I may as well die now, maybe, as another time. I was an honest, faithful servant, at all times. I have neither chick nor child to cry for me. No wife, thank G.o.d, to break my heart afther. My conscience is light and airy, like a beggarmans blanket, as they say; and, barrin' that I once got drunk wid your uncle in Moll Flanagan's sheebeen house, I don't know that I have much to trouble me.
Spare _him_, then, and take _me_, if it must come to that. He has the _Cooleen Bawn_ to think for. Do you think of her, too; and remember that it was she who saved your uncle from the gallows.”
This unlucky allusion only deepened the vengeance of the Red Rapparee, who looked to the priming of his gun, and was in the act of preparing to perpetrate this most in-human and awful murder, when all interruption took place for which neither party was prepared.
Now, it so happened that within about eight or ten yards of where they stood there existed the walls and a portion of the arched roof of one of those old ecclesiastical ruins, which our antiquarians denominate Cyclopean, like _lucus a non lucendo_, because scarcely a dozen men could kneel in them. Over this sad ruin was what sportsmen term ”a pa.s.s”
for duck and widgeon, and, aided by the shelter of the building, any persons who stationed themselves there could certainly commit great havoc among the wild-fowl in question. The Red Rapparee then had his gun in his hand, and was in the very act of adjusting it to his shoulder, when a powerful young man sprung forward, and das.h.i.+ng it aside, exclaimed:
”What is this, Randal? Is it a double murder you are about to execute, you inhuman ruffian?”
[Ill.u.s.tration: PAGE 11--Is it a double murder you are about to execute?]
The Rapparee glared at him, but with a quailing and subdued, yet sullen and vindictive, expression.
”Stand up, sir,” proceeded this daring and animated young man, addressing Mr. Folliard; ”and you, c.u.mmiskey, get to your legs.
No person shall dare to injure either of you while I am here.
O'Donnel--stain and disgrace to a n.o.ble name--begone, you and your ruffians. I know the cause of your enmity against this gentleman; and I tell you now, that if you were as ready to sustain your religion as you are to disgrace it by your conduct, you would not become a curse to it and the country, nor give promise of feeding a hungry gallows some day, as you and your accomplices will do.”
Whilst the young stranger addressed these miscreants with such energy and determination, Mr. Folliard, who, as well as his servant, had now got to his legs, asked the latter in a whisper who he was.
”By all that's happy, sir,” he replied, ”it's himself, the only man living that the Red Rapparee is afraid of; it's 'w.i.l.l.y Reilly.'”
CHAPTER II. _The Cooleen Baum_.
The old man became very little wiser by the information of his servant, and said in reply, ”I hope, Andy, he's not a Papist;” but checking the unworthy prejudice--and in him such prejudices were singularly strong in words, although often feeble in fact he added, ”it matters not--we owe our lives to him--the deepest and most important obligation that one man can owe to another. I am, however, scarcely able to stand; I feel be-numbed and exhausted, and wish to get home as soon as possible.”
”Mr. Reilly,” said Andy, ”this gentleman is very weak and ill; and as you have acted so much like a brave man and a gentleman, maybe you'd have no objection to see us safe home.”
”It is my intention to do so,” replied Reilly. ”I could not for a moment think of leaving either him or you to the mercy of this treacherous man, who dishonors a n.o.ble name. Randal,” he proceeded, addressing the Rapparee, ”mark my words!--if but a single hair of this gentleman's head, or of any one belonging to him, is ever injured by you or your gang, I swear that you and they will swing, each of you, from as many gibbets, as soon as the course of the law can reach you. You know me, sir, and my influence over those who protect you. As for you, Fergus,”
he added, addressing one of the Rapparee's followers, ”you are, thank G.o.d! the only one of my blood who has ever disgraced it by leading such a lawless and guilty life. Be advised by me--leave that man of treachery,rapine, and murder--abandon him and re-form your life--and if you are disposed to become a good and an industrious member of society, go to some other country, where the disgrace you have incurred in this may not follow you. Be advised by me, and you shall not want the means of emigrating. Now begone; and think, each of you, of what I have said.”
The Rapparee glanced at the n.o.ble-looking young fellow with the vindictive ferocity of an enraged bull, who feels a disposition to injure you, but is restrained by terror; or, which is quite as appropriate, a cowardly but vindictive mastiff, who eyes you askance, growls, shows his teeth, but has not the courage to attack you.
”Do not look at me so, sir,” said Reilly; ”you know I fear you not.”
”But the meantime,” replied the Rapparee, ”what's to prevent me from putting a bullet into you this moment, if I wish to do it?”
”There are ten thousand reasons against it,” returned Reilly. ”If you did so, in less than twenty-four hours you would find yourself in Sligo jail--or, to come nearer the truth, in less than five minutes you would find yourself in h.e.l.l.”
”Well, now, suppose I should make the trial,” said the Rapparee. ”You don't know, Mr. Reilly, how you have crossed me to-night. Suppose now I should try--and suppose, too, that not one of you three should leave the spot you stand on only as corpses--wouldn't I have the advantage of you then?”