Lord Kilgobbin Part 75

Though Lord Kilgobbin, when he awoke somewhat late in the afternoon, did not exactly complain of headache, he was free to admit that his faculties were slightly clouded, and that his memory was not to the desired extent retentive of all that pa.s.sed on the preceding night. Indeed, beyond the fact--which he reiterated with great energy--that 'old Flood, Tory though he was, was a good fellow, an excellent fellow, and had a marvellous bin of port wine,' his son d.i.c.k was totally unable to get any information from him. 'Bigot, if you like, or Blue Protestant, and all the rest of it; but a fine hearty old soul, and an Irishman to the heart's core!' That was the sum of information which a two hours' close cross-examination elicited; and d.i.c.k was sulkily about to leave the room in blank disappointment when the old man suddenly amazed him by asking: 'And do you tell me that you have been lounging about the town all the morning and have learned nothing? Were you down to the gaol? Have you seen O'Shea? What's _his_ account of it?

Who began the row? Has he any bones broken? Do you know anything at all?'

cried he, as the blank look of the astonished youth seemed to imply utter ignorance, as well as dismay.

'First of all,' said d.i.c.k, drawing a long breath, 'I have not seen O'Shea; n.o.body is admitted to see him. His injuries about the head are so severe the doctors are in dread of erysipelas.'

'What if he had? Have not every one of us had the erysipelas some time or other; and, barring the itching, what's the great harm?'

'The doctors declare that if it come, they will not answer for his life.'

'They know best, and I'm afraid they know why also. Oh dear, oh dear!

if there's anything the world makes no progress in, it's the science of medicine. Everybody now dies of what we all used to have when I was a boy!

Sore throats, smallpox, colic, are all fatal since they've found out Greek names for them, and with their old vulgar t.i.tles they killed n.o.body.'

'Gorman is certainly in a bad way, and Dr. Rogan says it will be some days before he could p.r.o.nounce him out of danger.'

'Can he be removed? Can we take him back with us to Kilgobbin?'

'That is utterly out of the question; he cannot be stirred, and requires the most absolute rest and quiet. Besides that, there is another difficulty--I don't know if they would permit us to take him away.'

'What! do you mean, refuse our bail?'

'They have got affidavits to show old Gill's life's in danger; he is in high fever to-day, and raving furiously, and if he should die, McEvoy declares that they'll be able to send bills for manslaughter, at least, before the grand-jury.'

'There's more of it!' cried Kilgobbin, with a long whistle. 'Is it Rogan swears the fellow is in danger?'

'No, it's Tom Price, the dispensary doctor; and as Miss Betty withdrew her subscription last year, they say he swore he'd pay her off for it.'

'I know Tom, and I'll see to that,' said Kearney. 'Are the affidavits sworn?'

'No. They are drawn out; McEvoy is copying them now; but they'll be ready by three o'clock.'

'I'll have Rogan to swear that the boy must be removed at once. We'll take him over with us; and once at Kilgobbin, they'll want a regiment of soldiers if they mean to take him. It is nigh twelve o'clock now, is it not?'

'It is on the stroke of two, sir.'

'Is it possible? I believe I overslept myself in the strange bed. Be alive now, d.i.c.k, and take the 2.40 train to town. Call on McKeown, and find out where Miss Betty is stopping; break this business to her gently--for with all that d.a.m.nable temper, she has a fine womanly heart--tell her the poor boy was not to blame at all: that he went over to see her, and knew nothing of the place being let out or hired; and tell her, besides, that the blackguards that beat him were not her own people at all, but villains from another barony that old Gill brought over to work on short wages. Mind that you say that, or we'll have more law, and more trouble--notices to quit, and the devil knows what. I know Miss Betty well, and she'd not leave a man on a town-land if they raised a finger against one of her name! There now, you know what to do: go and do it!'

To hear the systematic and peremptory manner in which the old man detailed all his directions, one would have p.r.o.nounced him a model of orderly arrangement and rule. Having despatched d.i.c.k to town, however, he began to bethink him of all the matters on which he was desirous to learn Miss O'Shea's mind. Had she really leased the Barn to this man Gill: and if so, for what term? And was her quarrel with her nephew of so serious a nature that she might hesitate as to taking his side here--at least, till she knew he was in the right; and then, was he in the right? That was, though the last, the most vital consideration of all.

'I'd have thought of all these if the boy had not flurried me so. These hot-headed fellows have never room in their foolish brains for anything like consecutive thought; they can just entertain the one idea, and till they dismiss that, they cannot admit another. Now, he'll come back by the next train, and bring me the answer to one of my queries, if even that?'

sighed he, as he went on with his dressing.

'All this blessed business,' muttered he to himself, 'comes of this blundering interference with the land-laws. Paddy hears that they have given him some new rights and privileges, and no mock-modesty of his own will let him lose any of them, and so he claims everything. Old experience had taught him that with a bold heart and a blunderbuss he need not pay much rent; but Mr. Gladstone--long life to him--had said, "We must do something for you." Now what could that be? He'd scarcely go so far as to give them out Minie rifles or Cha.s.sepots, though arms of precision, as they call them, would have put many a poor fellow out of pain--as Bob Magrath said when he limped into the public-house with a ball in his back--"It's only a 'healing measure,' don't make a fuss about it."'

'Mr. Flood wants to see your honour when you're dressed,' said the waiter, interrupting his soliloquy.

'Where is he?'

'Walking up and down, sir, forenent the door.'

'Will ye say I'm coming down? I'm just finishing a letter to the Lord-Lieutenant,' said Kilgobbin, with a sly look to the man, who returned the glance with its rival, and then left the room.

'Will you not come in and sit down?' said Kearney, as he cordially shook Flood's hand.

'I have only five minutes to stay, and with your leave, Mr. Kearney, we'll pa.s.s it here'; and taking the other's arm, he proceeded to walk up and down before the door of the inn.

'You know Ireland well--few men better, I am told--and you have no need, therefore, to be told how the rumoured dislikes of party, the reported jealousies and rancours of this set to that, influence the world here.

It will be a fine thing, therefore, to show these people here that the Liberal, Mr. Kearney, and that bigoted old Tory, Tom Flood, were to be seen walking together, and in close confab. It will show them, at all events, that neither of us wants to make party capital out of this scrimmage, and that he who wants to affront one of us, cannot, on that ground, at least, count upon the other. Just look at the crowd that is watching us already!

There 'a a fellow neglecting the sale of his pig to stare at us, and that young woman has stopped gartering her stocking for the last two minutes in sheer curiosity about us.'

[Ill.u.s.tration: 'Just look at the crowd that is watching us already']

Kearney laughed heartily as he nodded a.s.sent.

'You follow me, don't you?' asked Flood. 'Well, then, grant me the favour I'm about to ask, and it will show me that you see all these things as I do. This row may turn out more seriously than we thought for. That scoundrel Gill is in a high fever to-day--I would not say that just out of spite the fellow would not die. Who knows if it may not become a great case at the a.s.sizes; and if so, Kearney, let us have public opinion with us.

There are scores of men who will wait to hear what you and I say of this business. There are hundreds more who will expect us to disagree. Let us prove to them that this is no feud between Orange and Green, this is nothing of dispute between Whig and Tory, or Protestant and Papist; but a free fight, where, more shame to them, fifty fell upon one. Now what you must grant me is leave to send this boy back to Kilgobbin in my own carriage, and with my own liveries. There is not a peasant cutting turf on the bog will not reason out his own conclusions when he sees it. Don't refuse me, for I have set my heart on it.'

'I'm not thinking of refusing. I was only wondering to myself what my daughter Kitty will say when she sees me sitting behind the blue and orange liveries.'

'You may send me back with the green flag over me the next day I dine with you,' cried Flood, and the compact was ratified.

'It is more than half-past already,' said Flood. 'We are to have a full bench at three; so be ready to give your bail, and I'll have the carriage at the corner of the street, and you shall set off with the boy at once.'

'I must say,' said Kearney, 'whatever be your Tory faults, lukewarmness is not one of them! You stand to me like an old friend in all this trouble.'

'Maybe it's time to begin to forget old grudges. Kearney, I believe in my heart neither of us is as bad as the other thinks him. Are you aware that they are getting affidavits to refuse the bail?'

'I know it all; but I have sent a man to McEvoy about a case that will take all his morning; and he'll be too late with his affidavits.'

'By the time he is ready, you and your charge will be snug in Kilgobbin; and another thing, Kearney--for I have thought of the whole matter--you'll take out with you that little vermin Price, the doctor, and treat him well. He'll be as indiscreet as you wish, and be sure to give him the opportunity. There, now, give me your most affectionate grasp of the hand, for there's an attentive public watching us.'

CHAPTER LVII

A DOCTOR

Young O'Shea made the journey from Kilbeggan to Kilgobbin Castle in total unconsciousness. The symptoms had now taken the form which doctors call concussion; and though to a first brief question he was able to reply reasonably and well, the effort seemed so exhausting that to all subsequent queries he appeared utterly indifferent; nor did he even by look acknowledge that he heard them.

Perfect and unbroken quiet was enjoined as his best, if not his only, remedy; and Kate gave up her own room for the sick man, as that most remote from all possible disturbance, and away from all the bustle of the house.

The doctors consulted on his case in the fashion that a country physician of eminence condescends to consult with a small local pract.i.tioner. Dr.

Rogan p.r.o.nounced his opinion, prophetically declared the patient in danger, and prescribed his remedies, while Price, agreeing with everything, and even slavishly abject in his manner of concurrence, went about amongst the underlings of the household saying, 'There's two fractures of the frontal bone. It's trepanned he ought to be; and when there's an inquest on the body, I'll declare I said so.'

Though nearly all the care of providing for the sick man's nursing fell to Kate Kearney, she fulfilled the duty without attracting any notice whatever, or appearing to feel as if any extra demand were made upon her time or her attention; so much so, that a careless observer might have thought her far more interested in providing for the reception of the aunt than in cares for the nephew.