Part 43 (1/2)
”How do I know but he has heard us?”
We must now observe that Fergus's style of sleeping was admirably adapted for his purpose. It was not accompanied by a loud and unbroken snore; on the contrary, after it had risen to the highest and most disagreeable intonations, it stopped short, with a loud and indescribable backsnort in his nose, and then, after a lull of some length, during which he groaned and muttered to himself, he again resumed his sternutations in a manner so natural as would have imposed upon Satan himself, if he had been present, as there is little doubt he was, though not exactly visible to the eyes of his two precious agents.
”Listen to that,” replied the woman; ”do you think, now, he's not asleep? and even if he was sitting at the fire beside us, devil a syllable we said he could understand. I spoke to him in English when he came in, but he didn't know a word I said.”
”Well, then, let the ould fellow sleep away; I won't touch him.”
”Why, now, that's a good boy; go home to your barracks, and take a good sleep yourself.”
”Ay, yes, certainly; but have you Reilly's clothes safe--shoes, silver buckles, and all?”
”Ay, as safe as the head on your shoulders; and, upon my soul, a great dale safer, if you rob any more sheriffs.”
”Where are they, then?”
”Why, they're in my flat box, behind the bed, where n.o.body could see them.”
”Very well, Molly, that will do; I may want them wanst more,” he replied, pointing again with his thumb over his shoulder towards Whitecraft's residence; ”so goodnight; be a good girl, and take care of yourself.”
”No,” she replied, ”but do you be a good boy, and take care of yourself.” And so they parted for the night.
The next day Fergus, possessed of very important evidence against the Rapparee, was travelling along the public road, not more than half a mile from the residence of Sir Robert Whitecraft, when whom should he meet but the identical sheriff, on horseback, that the Rapparee had robbed. He put his hand to his hat, and asked him for charity.
”Help a poor ould man, for the love and honor of G.o.d.”
”Why don't you go to work--why don't you go to work?” replied the sheriff.
”I am not able, sir,” returned Fergus; ”it wouldn't be good for my health, your honor.”
”Well, pa.s.s on and don't trouble me; I have nothing for you.”
”Ah! thin, sir, if you'd give me a trifle, maybe I'd make it worth your while.”
”What do you mean?” asked the sheriff, who knew that persons like him had opportunities of hearing and knowing more about local circ.u.mstances, in consequence of their vagrant life, than any other cla.s.s of persons in society.
”What do you mean by what you have just said?”
”Aren't you the sheriff, sir, that was robbed some time ago?”
”I am.”
”Ah, sir, I see you are dressed in black; and I heard of the death of the misthress, sir.”
”Well, but what has that to do with what you have just now said--that you would make it worth my while if I gave you alms?”
”I said so, sir; and I can, if you will be guided by me.”
”Speak out; I don't understand you.”
”Would you like to see the man that robbed you, sir, and would you know him if you did see him?”