Confessions Of Con Cregan Part 28

"Because I am not afraid of his teeth," said I, with an easy effrontery my heart gave a flat lie to.

"Vrai?" said he, with a laugh of horrible meaning.

"Vrai!" repeated I, with a sinking courage, but a very bold voice.

"I wish we were in better company," whispered I to Joe; "what directions did you give these fellows?"

"To show us the best lodging-house for the night, and that we 'd pay well for it."

"Ah!" thought I, "that explains something."

"Here we are, mounseers," said one, as, stopping at the door of a two-storied house, he knocked with his knuckles on the panel.

"Nous filions, slick, en suite, here," said the other, holding out his hand.

"They are going!" whispered I; "they want to be paid, and we are well rid of them."

"It would be manners to wait and see if they 'll let us in," said Joe, who did not fancy this summary departure, while he fumbled in his pocket for a suitable coin.

"Vite!--quick!--sharp time!" cried one of the fellows, who, as the sound of voices was heard from within, seemed impatient to be off; and so, s.n.a.t.c.hing rather than taking the shilling which still lingered in Joe's reluctant fingers, he wheeled about and fled, followed rapidly by the other.

"Qui va!" cried a sharp voice from within, as I knocked for the second time on the door-panel with a stone.

"Friends," said I; "we want a lodging and something to eat."

The door was at once opened, and, by the light of a lantern, we saw the figure of an old woman, whose eyes, bleared and bloodshot, glared at us fixedly.

"'Tis a lodgen' yez want?" said she, in an accent that showed her to be Irish. "And who brought yez here?"

"Two young fellows we met on the quay," said Joe; "one called the other 'Tony.'"

"Ay, indeed!" muttered the hag; "I was sure of it: his own son! his own son!"

These words she repeated in a tone of profound sorrow, and for a time seemed quite unmindful of our presence.

"Are we to get in at all?" said the old man, in an accent of impatience.

"What a hurry yer in; and maybe 'tis wishing yerself out again ye 'd be, after ye wor in!"

"I think we'd better try somewhere else," whispered Joe to me; "I don't like the look of this place." Before I could reply to this, a loud yell burst forth from the end of the street, accompanied by the tramp of many people, who seemed to move in a kind of regulated step.

"Here they are! Here they come!" cried the old woman; "step in quick, or ye 'll be too late!" and she dragged the young girls forward by the cloak into the hall; we followed without further question. Then, placing the lantern on the floor, she drew a heavy chain across the door, and dropped her cloak over the light, saying in a low, tremulous voice, "Them's the 'Tapageers!'"

The crowd now came closer, and we perceived that they were singing in chorus a song, of which the air, at least, was Irish.

The barbarous rhyme of one rude verse, as they sung it in pa.s.sing, still lingers in my memory:

"No b.l.o.o.d.y agint here we see, Ready to rack, distrain, and saze us; Whatever we ax, we have it free, And take at hand, whatever plaze us.

Row, row, row, Will yez show me, now, The polis that 'll dare to face us!"

"There they go! 'tis well ye wor safe!" said the old hag, as the sounds died away, and all became silent in the street without.

"Who or what are they?" said I, my curiosity being stimulated by fear.

"Them 's the 'Tapageers '! The chaps that never spared man or woman in their rounds. 'T is bad enough, the place is; but they make it far worse!"

"Can we stop here for the night?" said Joe, growing impatient at the colloquy.

"And what for wud ye stop here?" asked the crone, as she held up the lantern the better to see him who made the demand.

"We want our supper, and a place to sleep," said the old man; "and we 're able and willin' to pay for both."

"'T is a nice place ye kem for either!" said she; and she leaned back against the wall and laughed with a fiend-like malice that made my blood chill.

"Then I suppose we must go somewhere else," said Joe. "Come, boys; 't is no use losing our time here!"

"G.o.d speed you!" said she, preparing to undo the chain that fastened the door. "Ye have bould hearts, any way! There they go! d' ye hear them?"

This was said in a half-whisper, as the wild yells of the "Tapageers"

arose without; and soon after, the noise and tumult of a scuffle,--at least we could hear the crashing of sticks, and the shouting of a fray; from which, too, piercing cries for help burst forth.

"What are ye doin'? Are ye mad? Are ye out of your sinses?" cried the hag, as Joe endeavored to wrest open the chain, the secret of which he did not understand.

"They're murdering some one without there!" said he. "Let me free, or I'll kick down your old door this minute!"

"Kick away, honey!" said the hag; "as strong men as yourself tried that a'ready; and--d'ye hear?--it's done now; it 's _over!_" These terrible words were in allusion to a low kind of sobbing sound, which grew fainter and fainter, and then ceased altogether.

"They 're taking the body away," whispered she, after a pause of death-like stillness.

"Where to?" said I, half breathless with terror.

"To the river! the stream runs fast, and the corpse will be down below Goose Island,--ay, in the Gulf, 'fore morning!"

The two young girls, unable longer to control their feelings, here burst out a crying; and the old man, pulling out a rosary, turned to the wall and began his prayers.

"'Tis a b.l.o.o.d.y place; glory be to G.o.d!" said Joe, at last, with a sigh, and clasped his hands before him, like one unable to decide on what course to follow.

I saw, now, that all were so paralyzed by fear that it devolved upon me to act for the rest; so, summoning my best courage, I said, "Will you allow us to stay here for the night, since we are strangers, and do not know where to seek shelter?" She shook her head, not so much with the air of refusing my request as to convey that I had asked for something scarce worth the granting.

"We only want a shelter for the night--"

"And a bit to eat," broke in the old man, turning round from his prayers. "Sanctificatur in sec'la,--if it was only a bit of belly bacon, and--Tower of Ivory, purtect us--with a pot of praties, and--Matthew^ Mark, Luke, and John--"

"Is he a friar?" said the hag to me, eagerly; "does he belong to an 'ordher'?"

"No," said I;" he's only a good Catholic."

She wrung her hands, as if in disappointment; and then, taking up the lantern once more, said, "Come along! I 'll show yez where ye can stay."

We followed, I leading the others, up a narrow and rickety stair, between two walls streaming with damp and patched with mould. When she reached the landing she searched for a moment for a key, which having found, she opened the door of a long low room, whose only furniture was a deal table and a few chairs; a candle stuck in a bottle, and some drinking-vessels of tin, were on the table, and a piece of newspaper containing some tobacco.