The Poor Scholar Part 15

"An honest 'rascal,' I suppose you mean, Mr. Carson," said the Colonel, bitterly. "Proceed, M'Evoy."

M'Evoy stated the circ.u.mstances precisely as the reader is already acquainted with them, after which the Colonel turned round to his agent and inquired what he had to say in reply.

"You cannot expect, Colonel B------," he replied, "that with such a multiplicity of business on my hands, I could remember, after a lapse of ten years, the precise state of this particular case. Perhaps I may have some papers, a memorandum or so, at home, that may throw light upon it.

At present I can only say, that the man failed in his rents, I ejected him, and put a better tenant in his place. I cannot see a crime in that."

"Plase your honor," replied M'Evoy, "I can prove by them that's standin'

to the fore this minute, as well as by this written affidavit, sir, that I offered him the full rint, havin', at the same time, as G.o.d is my judge, ped part of it afore."

"That is certainly false--an untrue and malicious statement," said Carson. "I now remember that the cause of my resentment--yes, of my just resentment against you, was your reporting that I received your rent and withheld your receipt."

"Then," observed the Colonel, "There has been more than one charge of that nature brought against you? You mentioned another to me this morning if I mistake not."

"I have made my oath, your honor, of the thruth of it; an' here is a dacent man, sir, a Protestant, that lent me the money, an' was present when I offered it to him. Mr. Smith, come forrid, sir, an' spake up for the poor man, as you're always willin' to do."

"I object to his evidence," said Carson: "he is my open enemy."

"I am your enemy, Mr. Carson, or rather the enemy of your corruption and want of honesty," said Smith: "but, as you say, an open one. I scorn to say behind your back what I wouldn't say to your face. Right well you know I was present when he tendered you his rent. I lent him part of it.

But why did you and your bailiffs turn him out, when his wife was on her sick bed? Allowing that he could not pay his rent, was that any reason you should do so barbarous an act as to drag a woman from her sick bed, and she at the point of death? But we know your reasons for it."

"Gentlemen," said the Colonel, "pray what character do M'Evoy and Smith here bear in the country?"

"We have known them both for years to be honest, conscientious men,"

said those whom he addressed: "such is their character, and in our opinion they well deserve it."

"G.o.d bless you, gintlemen!" said M'Evoy--"G.o.d bless your honors, for your kind Words! I'm sure for my own part, I hope though but a poor man now, G.o.d help me!"

"Pray, who occupies the farm at present, Mr. Carson?"

"The man I mentioned to you this morning, sir. His name is Jackson."

"And pray, Mr. Carson, who is his wife?"

"Oh, by the by, Colonel, that's a little too close! I see the gentlemen smile; but they know I must beg to decline answering that question---not that it matters much. We have all sown our wild oats in our time--myself as well as another--ha, ha, ha!"

"The fact, under other circ.u.mstances," observed the Colonel, "could never draw an inquiry from me; but as it is connected with, or probably has occasioned, a gross, unfeeling, and an unjust act of oppression towards an honest man, I therefore alluded to it, as exhibiting the motives from which you acted. She is your illegitimate daughter, sir!"

"She's one o' the baker's dozen o' them, plase your honor," observed a humorous little Presbyterian, with a sarcastic face, and sharp northern accent--"for feth, sir, for my part, A thenk he lies one on every hill head. All count, your honor, on my fingers a roun' half-dozen, all on your estate, sir, featherin' their nests as fast as they can."

"Is this Jackson a good tenant, Mr. Carson?"

"I gave you his character this morning, Colonel B."

"Hout, Colonel!" said the Presbyterian, "deil a penny rent the man pays, at all, at all. A'll swear a hev it from Jackson's own lips. He made him a Bailey, sir; he suts rent free. Ask the man, sir, for his receipts, an' a'll warrant the truth will come out."

"I have secured Jackson's attendance," said the Colonel; "let him be called in."

The man in a few minutes entered.

"Jackson," said the Colonel, "how long is it since you paid Mr. Carson here any rent?"

Jackson looked at Carson for his cue; but the Colonel rose up indignantly: "Fellow!" he proceeded, "if you tamper with me a single moment, you shall find Mr. Carson badly able to protect you. If you speak falsehood, be it at your peril."

"By Jing, sir," said Jackson, "All say nothin' aginst my father-in-laa, an' A don't care who teks it well or ull. A was just tekin' a _gun_ (* a half-tumbler of punch) with a fren' or two--an d---me, A say, A'll stick to my father-m-laa, for he hes stuck to me."

"You appear to be a hardened, drunken wretch," observed the Colonel.

"Will you be civil enough to show your last receipt for rent?"

"Wull A show it? A dono whether A wull or not, nor A dono whether A hey it or not; but ef aall the receipts in Europe wur burnt, d---- my blood, but A'll stick to my father-in-laa."

"Your father-in-law may be proud of you," said the Colonel.

"By h----, A'll back you en that," said the fellow nodding his head, and looking round him confidently. "By h-----, A say that, too!"

"And I am sorry to be compelled to add," continued the Colonel, "that you may be equally proud of your father-in-law."

"A say, right agane! D---- me, bit A'll back that too!"and he nodded confidently, and looked around the room once more. "A wull, d---- my blood, bit no man can say agane it. A'm married to his daughter; an', by the sun that shines A'll still stan' up for my father-in-laa."

"Mr. Carson," said the Colonel, "can you disprove these facts? Can you show that you did not expel M'Evoy from his farm, and put the husband of your illegitimate daughter into it? That you did not receive his rent, decline giving him a receipt, and afterwards compel him to pay twice, because he could not produce the receipt which you withheld?"

"Gentlemen," said Carson, not directly replying to the Colonel, "there is a base conspiracy got up against me; and I can perceive, moreover, that there is evidently some unaccountable intention on the part of Colonel B. to insult my feelings and injure my character. When paltry circ.u.mstances that have occurred above ten years ago, are raked up in my teeth, I have little to say, but that it proves how very badly off the Colonel must have been for an imputation against my conduct and discretion as his agent, since he finds himself compelled to hunt so far back for a charge."

"That is by no means the heaviest charge I have to bring against you,"

replied the Colonel. "There is no lack of them; nor shall you be able to complain that they are not recent, as well as of longer standing. Your conduct in the case of poor honest M'Evoy here is black and iniquitous.

He must be restored to his farm, but by other hands than yours, and that ruffian instantly expelled from it. From this moment, sir, you cease to be my agent. You have betrayed the confidence I reposed in you; you have misled me as to the character of my tenants; you have been a deceitful, cunning, cringing, selfish and rapacious tyrant. My people you have ground to dust; my property you have lessened in value nearly one-half, and for your motives in doing this, I refer you to certain transactions and legal doc.u.ments which pa.s.sed between us. There is nothing cruel or mercenary which you did not practice, in order to enrich yourself. The whole tenor of your conduct is before me. Your profligacy is not only discovered, but already proved; and you played those villainous pranks, I suppose, because I have been mostly an absentee. Do not think, however, that you shall enjoy the fruits of your extortion? I will place the circ.u.mstances, and the proofs of the respective charges against you, in the hands of my solicitor, and, by the sacred heaven above me! you shall disgorge the fruits of your rapacity. My good people, I shall remain among you for another fortnight, during which time I intend to go through my estate, and set everything to rights as well as I can, until I may appoint a humane and feeling gentleman as my agent--such a one as will have, at least, a character to lose. I also take this opportunity of informing you, that in future I shall visit you often, will redress your grievances, should you have any to complain of, and will give such a.s.sistance to the honest and industrious among you--but to them only--as I trust may make us better pleased with each other than we have been.--Do not you go, M'Evoy, until I speak to you."

During these observations Carson sat with a smile, or rather a sneer upon his lips. It was the sneer of a purse-proud villain confident that his wealth, no matter how ill-gotten, was still wealth, and worth its value.

"Colonel," said he, "I have heard all you said, but you see me 'so strong in honesty,' that I am not moved. In the course of a few weeks I shall have purchased an estate of my own, which I shall manage differently, for my fortune is made, sir. I intend also to give up my other agencies: I am rather old and must retire to enjoy a little of the _otium c.u.m dignitate_. I wish you all goo'd-morning!"

The Colonel turned away in abhorrence, but disdained any reply.

"A say, Sam," said the Presbyterian, "bring your son-in-laa wuth you."

"An' I say that, too," exclaimed the drunken ruffian--"A say that; A do.

A'm married to his daughter; an' A say stull, that d------my blood, bit A'll stick to my father-in-laa! That's the point!"--and again he nodded his head, and looked round him with a drunken swagger:--"A'll stick to my father-in-laa! A'll do that; feth, A wull!"*

* This dialect is local.

It is scarcely necessary to inform the reader, that the Colonel's address to Carson soon got among the a.s.sembled tenantry, and a vehement volley of groans and hisses followed the discarded agent up the street.

"Ha! bad luck to you for an ould villain. You were made to hear on the deaf side o' your head at last! You may take the black wool out o' your ears now, you rip! The cries an' curses o' the widows an' orphans that you made and oppressed, has ris up agin you at the long run! Ha! you beggarly nager! maybe you'll make us neglect our own work to do yours agin! Go an' gather the dhry cow-cakes, you misert, an' bring them home in your pocket, to throw on the dunghill!"

"Do you remimber the day," said others, "you met Mr. M., an' you goin'

up the street wid a cake of it in your fists, undher your shabby skirts; an' whin the gintlemen wint to shake hands wid you, how he discovered your maneness? Three groans for Yallow Sam, the extortioner! a short coorse to him! Your corner's warm for you, you villain!"

"But now, boys, for the Colonel!" they exclaimed.--"Huzza for n.o.ble Colonel B------ the rale Irish gintlemen, that wouldn't see his tenants put upon by a villain!--Huzza! h.e.l.l resave yees, shout! Huzza! Huzza!

Huzza! Huz--tundher-an'-ounze, my voice is cracked! Where's his coach?--where's his honor's coach? Come, boys, out wid it,--out wid it!

Tattheration to yees, come! We'll dhraw it to the divil, to h.e.l.l an'