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"Is there nothin' else?"
"What?"
"She's sick."
"Well, let her die, then; I don't care."
"In the other things I will help you," said Nell; "but you must clear your own way there. I can do every thing but that. I have a son myself, an' my hands is tied against blood till I find him out. I could like to see some people withered, but I can't kill."
"Well, except her case, we understand one another. Good night, then."
"You must work that for yourself. Good night."
CHAPTER VI.
In the mean time a circ.u.mstance occurred which scarcely any person who heard it could at first believe. About twelve o'clock the next day the house of Lamh Laudher More was surrounded with an immense crowd, and the whole town seemed to be in a state of peculiar animation and excitement.
Groups met, stood, and eagerly accosted each other upon some topic that evidently excited equal interest and astonishment.
LAMH LAUDHER OGE HAD CHALLENGED THE DEAD BOXER.
True. On that morning, at an early hour, the proscribed young man waited upon the Sovereign of the town, and requested to see him. Immediately after his encounter with the black the preceding night, and while Ellen Neil offered to compensate him for the obloquy she had brought upon his name, he formed the dreadful resolution of sending him a challenge. In very few words he stated his intention to the Sovereign, who looked upon him as insane.
"No, no," replied that gentleman; "go home, O'Rorke, and banish the idea out of your head; it is madness."
"But I say yes, yes, with great respect to you, sir," observed Lamh Laudher. "I've been banished from my father's house, and treated with scorn by all that know me, because they think me a coward. Now I'll let them know I'm no coward."
"But you will certainly be killed," said,the Sovereign.
"That's to be seen," observed the young man; "at all events, I'd as soon be killed as livin' in disgrace. I'll thank you, sir, as the head of the town, to let the black know that Lamh Laudher Oge will fight him."
"For heaven's sake, reflect a moment upon the----"
"My mind's made up to fight," said the other, interrupting him. "No power on earth will prevent me, sir. So, if you don't choose to send the challenge, I'll bring it myself."
The Sovereign shook his head, as if conscious of what the result must be.
"That is enough," said he; "as you are fixed on your own destruction, the challenge will be given; but I trust you will think better of it."
"Let him know, if you please," added Lamh Laudher, "that on to-morrow at twelve o'clock we must fight."
The magistrate nodded, and Lamh Laudher immediately took his leave. In a short time the intelligence spread. From the sovereign it pa.s.sed to his clerk, from the clerk to the other members of the corporation, and, ere an hour, the town was in a blaze with the intelligence.
"Did you hear what's reported?" was the general question.
Lamh Laudher Oge has challenged the Dead Boxer!
The reader already knows how bitterly public opinion had set in against our humble hero; but it would be difficult to describe, in terms sufficiently vivid, the rapid and powerful reaction which now took place in his favor. Every one pitied him, praised him, remembered his former prowess, and after finding some palliative for his degrading interview with Meehaul Neil, concluded with expressing a firm conviction that he had undertaken a fatal task. When the rumor had reached his parents, the blood ran cold in their veins, and their natural affection, now roused into energy, grasped at an object that was about to be violently removed from it. Their friends and neighbors, as we have stated, came to their house for the purpose of dissuading their son against so rash and terrible an undertaking.
"It musn't be," said they, "for whatever was over him wid Meehaul Neil, we know now he's no coward, an' that's enough. We musn't see him beat dead before our eyes, at all events, where is he?"
"He's at his aunt's," replied the father; "undher this roof he says he will never come till his name is cleared. Heavens above! For him to think of fighting a man that kills every one he fights wid!"
The mother's outcries were violent, as were those of his female relations, whilst a solemn and even mournful spirit brooded upon the countenances of his own faction. It was resolved that his parents and friends should now wait upon, and by every argument and remonstrance in their power, endeavor to change the rashness of his purpose:
The young man received them with a kind but somewhat sorrowful, spirit.
The father, uncovered, and with his gray locks flowing down upon his shoulders, approached him, extended his hand, and with an infirm voice said--
"Give me your hand, John. You're welcome to your father's heart an'
your father's roof once more."
The son put his arms across his breast, and bowed his head respectfully, but declined receiving his father's hand.
"Not, father--father dear--not till my name is cleared."
"John," said the old man, now in tears, "will you refuse me? You are my only son, my only child, an' I cannot lose you. Your name is cleared."
"Father," said the son, "I've sworn--it's now too late. My heart, father, has been crushed by what has happened lately. I found little charity among my friend's. I say, I cannot change my mind, for I've sworn to fight him. And even if I had not sworn, I couldn't, as a man, but do it, for he has insulted them that I love better than my own life.
I knew you would want to persuade me against what I'm doin'--an' that was why I bound myself this mornin' by an oath."
The mother, who had been detained a few minutes behind them, now entered, and on hearing that he had refused to decline the battle, exclaimed--
"Who says that Lamh Laudher Oge won't obey his mother? Who dare say it?
Wasn't he ever and always an obedient son to me an' his father? I won't believe that lie of my boy, no more than I ever believed a word of' what was sed against him. _Shawn Oge aroon_, you won't refuse me, _avillish_.
What 'ud become of me, _avich ma chree_, if you fight him? Would you have the mother's heart broken, an' our roof childless all out? We lost one as it is--the daughter of our heart is gone, an' we don't know how--an' now is your father an' me to lie down an' die in desolation widout a child to shed a tear over us, or to put up one prayer for our happiness?"
The young man's eyes filled with tears; but his cheek reddened, and he dashed them hastily aside.
"No, my boy, my glorious boy, won't refuse to save his mother's heart from breakin'; ay, and his gray-haired father's too--he won't kill us both--my boy won't,--nor send us to the grave before our time!"
"Mother," said he, "if I could I--Oh! no, no. Now, it's too late--if I didn't fight him, I'd be a perjured man. You know," he added, smiling, "there's something in a Lamh Laudher's blow, as well as in the Dead Boxer's. Isn't it said, that a Lamh Laudher needn't strike two blows, when he sends his strength with one."
He stretched out his powerful arm, as he spoke, with a degree of pride, not unbecoming his youth, spirit, and amazing strength and activity.
"Do not," he added, "either vex me, or sink my spirits. I'm sworn, an'
I'll fight him. That's my mind, and it will not change."
The whole party felt, by the energy and decision with which he spoke the last words, that he was immovable. His resolution filled them with melancholy, and an absolute sense of death. They left him, therefore, in silence, with the exception of his parents, whose grief was bitter and excessive.
When the Dead Boxer heard that he had been challenged, he felt more chagrin than satisfaction, for his avarice was disappointed; but when he understood from those members of the corporation who waited on him, that Lamh Laudher was the challenger, the livid fire of mingled rage and triumph which blazed in his large bloodshot eyes absolutely frightened the worthy burghers.
"I'm glad of that," said he--"here, Joe, I desire you to go and get a coffin made, six feet long and properly wide--we will give him room enough; tehee! tehee! tehee!--ah! tehee! tehee! tehee! I'm glad, gentlemen. Herr! agh! tehee! tehee! I'm glad, I'm glad."
In this manner did he indulge in the wild and uncouth glee of a savage as ferocious as he was powerful.
"We have a quare proverb here, Misther Black," said one of the worthy burghers, "that, be my sowl, may be you never heard!"