Fardorougha, The Miser - LightNovelsOnl.com
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She then detailed her own feelings during the abduction, in terms so ludicrously abusive of Flanagan, that those who accompanied her were exceedingly amused; for what she said was strongly provocative of mirth, yet the chief cause of laughter lay in the vehement sincerity with which she spoke, and in the utter unconsciousness of uttering anything that was calculated to excite a smile. There is, however, a cla.s.s of such persons, whose power of provoking laughter consists in the utter absence of humor. Those I speak of never laugh either at what they say themselves, or what any one else may say; but they drive on right ahead with an inverted originality that is perfectly irresistible.
We must now beg the reader to accompany them to the Bodagh's, where a scene awaited them for which they were scarcely prepared. On approaching the house they could perceive, by the light glittering from the window c.h.i.n.ks, that the family were in a state of alarm; but at this they were not surprised; for such a commotion in the house, after what had occurred, was but natural. They went directly to the kitchen door and rapped.
"Who is there?" said a voice within.
"It's Biddy; for the love o' G.o.d make haste, Kitty, an' open."
"What Biddy are you? I won't open."
"Biddy Nulty. You know me well enough, Kitty; so make haste an' open, Alick, mark my words," said she in a low voice to her brother, "Kitty's the very one that practised the desate this night--that left the hall-door open. Make haste, Kitty, I say."
"I'll do no such thing indeed," replied the other; "it was you left the hall-door open to-night, an' I heard you spakin' to fellows outside. I have too much regard for my masther's house an' family to let you or any one else in to-night. Come in the mornin'."
"Folly me, Alick," said Biddy, "folly me."
She went immediately to the hall-door, and gave such a single rap with the knocker, as brought more than Kitty to the door.
"Who's there?" inquired a voice, which she and her brother at once knew to be Ned M'Cormick's.
"Ned, for the love o' G.o.d, let me an' Alick in!" she replied; "we got away from that netarnal villin."
Instantly the door was opened, and the first thing Ned did was to put his arms about Biddy's neck, and--we were going to say kiss her.
"Saints above!" said he, "what's this?" on seeing that her face was dreadfully disfigured with blood.
"Nothin' to signify," she replied; "but thanks be to G.o.d, we got clane away from the villin, or be the Padheren Partha, the villin it was that got clane away from hus. How is Miss Oona?"
"She went over to a neighbor's house for safety," replied Ned, smiling, "an' will be back in a few minutes; but who do you think, above all men in the five quarters o' the earth, we have got widin? Guess now."
"Who?" said Biddy; "why, I dunna, save--but no, it couldn't."
"Faix but it could, though," said Ned, mistaking her, as the matter turned out.
"Why, vick na hoiah, no! Connor O'Donovan back! Oh! no, no, Ned; that 'ud be too good news to be thrue."
The honest lad shook his head with an expression of regret that could not be mistaken as the exponent of a sterling heart. And yet, that the reader may perceive how near akin that one circ.u.mstance was to the other in his mind, we have only to say, that whilst the regret for Connor was deeply engraven on his features, yet the expression of triumph was as clearly legible as if his name had not been at all mentioned.
"Who, then, Ned?" said Alick. "Who the d.i.c.kens is it?"
"Why, divil resave the other than Bartle Flanagan himself--secured--and the constables sent for--an' plaze the Saver he'll be in the stone jug afore his head gets gray any how, the black-hearted villin!"
It was even so; and the circ.u.mstances accounting for it are very simple.
Flanagan, having mounted one of the horses, made the best of his way from what he apprehended was likely to become a scene of deadly strife.
Such was the nature of the road, however, that anything like a rapid pace was out of the question. When he had got over about half the boreen he was accosted in the significant terms of the Ribbon pa.s.sword of that day.
"Good morrow!"
"Good morrow mornin' to you!"
"Arrah what Age may you be, neighbor?"
Now the correct words were, "What Age are we in?" (* This order or throng of the Ages is taken from Pastorini) but they were often slightly changed, sometimes through ignorance and sometimes from design, as in the latter case less liable to remark when addressed to persons not _up_.
"In the end of the Fifth," was the reply.
"An' if you wor shakin' hands wid a friend, how would you do it? Or stay--all's right so far--but give us a grip of your cham ahas (right hand)."
Flanagan, who apprehended pursuit, was too cautious to trust himself within reach of any one coming from the direction in which the Bodagh lived. He made no reply, therefore, to this, but urged his horse forward, and attempted to get clear of his catechist.
"Dhar Dhegh! it's Flanagan," said a voice which was that of Alick Nulty; and the next moment the equestrian was stretched in the mud, by a heavy blow from the but of a carbine. Nearly a score of men were immediately about him; for the party he met on his return were the Bodagh's son, his servants, and such of the cottiers as lived near enough to be called up to the rescue. On finding himself secured, he lost all presence of mind, and almost all consciousness of his situation.
"I'm gone," said he; "I'm a lost man; all Europe can't save my life.
Don't kill me, boys; don't kill me; I'll go wid yez quietly--only, if I am to die, let me die by the laws of the land."
"The laws of the land?" said John O'Brien; "oh, little, Bartle Flanagan, you respected them. You needn' be alarmed now--you are safe here--to the laws of the land we will leave you; and by them you must stand or fall."
Bartle Flanagan, we need scarcely say, was well guarded until a posse of constables should arrive to take him into custody. But, in the mean time, a large and increasing party sat up in the house of the worthy Bodagh; for the neighbors had been alarmed, and came flocking to his aid. 'Tis true, the danger was now over; but the kind Bodagh, thankful in his heart to the Almighty for the escape of his daughter, would not let them go without first partaking of his hospitality. His wife, too, for the same reason, was in a flutter of delight; and as her heart was as Irish as her husband's, and consequently as hospitable, so did she stir about, and work, and order right and left until abundant refreshments were smoking on the table. Nor was the gentle and melancholy Una herself, now that the snake was at all events scotched, averse to show herself among them--for so they would have it. Biddy Nulty had washed her face; and, notwithstanding the poultice of stirabout which her mistress with her own hands applied to her wound, she really was the most interesting person present, in consequence of her heroism during the recent outrage. After a gla.s.s of punch had gone round, she waxed inveterately eloquent, indeed, so much so that the mourner, the colleen dhas dhun, herself was more than once forced to smile, and in some instances fairly to laugh at the odd grotesque spirit of her descriptions.
"The rascal was quick!" said the Bodagh, "but upon my credit, Biddy, you wor a pop afore him for all that. Divil a thing I, or John, or the others, could do wid only one gun an' a case o' pistols against so many--still we would have fought life or death for poor Una anyhow.
But Biddy, here, good girl, by her cleverness and invention saved us the danger, an' maybe was the manes of savin' some of our lives or theirs.
G.o.d knows I'd have no relish to be shot myself," said the pacific Bodagh, "nor would I ever have a day or night's pace if I had the blood of a fellow-crathur on my sowl--upon my sowl I wouldn't."
"But, blood alive, masther, what could I 'a' done only for Ned M'Cormick, that gave us the hard word?" said Biddy, anxious to transfer the merit of the transaction to her lover.
"Well, well, Bid," replied the Bodagh, "maybe neither Ned nor yourself will be a loser by it. If you're bent on layin' your heads together we'll find you a weddin' present, anyway."
"Bedad, sir, I'm puzzled to know how they got in so aisy," said Ned.
"That matter remains to be cleared up yet," said John. "There is certainly treachery in the camp somewhere."
"I am c.o.c.k sure the hall--door was not latched," said Duffy; "for they had neither stop nor stay at it."
"There is a villing among us sartainly," observed Mrs. O'Brien; "for as heaving is above me, I locked it wid my own two hands this blessed night."
"I thought it might be wid the kay, Bridget," said the Bodagh, laughing at his own easy joke; "for you see, doors is ginerally locked wid kays--ha! ha! ha!"
"Faix, but had Oona been tuck away tonight wid that vag o' the world, it's not laughin' you'd be."
"G.o.d, He sees, that's only thruth, too, Bridget," he replied; "but still there's some rogue about the place that opened the door for the villins."
"_Dar ma chuirp_, I'll hould goold I put the saddle on the right horse in no time," said Biddy. "Misthress, will you call Kitty Lowry, ma'am, i' you plase? Ill do everything above boord; no behind backs for me; blazes to the one alive hates foul play more nor I do."
We ought to have observed that one of Biddy's peculiarities was a more than usual readiness at letting fly, and not unfrequently at giving an oath; and as her character presented a strange compound of simplicity and cleverness, honesty and adroitness, her master and mistress, and fellow-servants, were frequently amused by this unfeminine propensity.
For instance, if Una happened to ask her, "Biddy, did you iron the linen?" her usual reply was, "No, blast the iron, miss, I hadn't time."
Of course the family did everything in their power to discourage such a practice; but on this point they found it impossible to reform her.
Kitty Lowry's countenance, when she appeared, certainly presented strong indications of guilt; but still there was a hardness of outline about it which gave promise at the same time of the most intrepid a.s.surance.
Biddy, on the. other hand, was brimful of consequence, and a sense of authority, on finding that the judicial power was on this occasion entrusted chiefly to her hands. She rose up when Kitty entered, and stuck a pair of red formidable fists with great energy into her sides.
"Pray ma'am," said she, "what's the raisin' you refused to let me in to-night, afther gettin' away wid my life from that netarnal blackguard, Bartle Flanagan--what's the raisin I say, ma'am, that you kep' me out afther you knewn who was in it?"