Andy had his hours of retirement also, for with praiseworthy industry he strove hard, poor fellow, to lift himself above the state of ignorance, and had daily attendance from the parish schoolmaster. The mysteries of "pothooks and hangers" and ABC weighed heavily on the n.o.bleman's mind, which must have sunk under the burden of scholarship and penmanship, but for the other "ship"--the horsemanship--which was Andy's daily self- established reward for his perseverance in his lessons. Besides he really _could_ ride; and as it was the only accomplishment of which he was master, it was no wonder he enjoyed the display of it; and, to say the truth, he did, and that on a first-rate horse too. Having appointed Murtough Murphy his law-agent, he often rode over to the town to talk with him, and as Murtough could have some fun and thirteen and fourpence also per visit, he was always glad to see his "n.o.ble friend." The high road did not suit Andy's notion of things; he preferred the variety, shortness, and diversion of going across the country on these occasions; and in one of these excursions, in the most secluded portion of his ride, which unavoidably lay through some quarries and deep broken ground, he met "Ragged Nance," who held up her finger as he approached the gorge of this lonely dell, in token that she would speak with him. Andy pulled up.

"Long life to you, my lord," said Nance, dropping a deep curtsey, "and sure I always liked you since the night you was so bowld for the sake of the poor girl--the young lady, I mane, now, G.o.d bless her--and I just wish to tell you, my lord, that I think you might as well not be going these lonely ways, for I see _them_ hanging about here betimes, that maybe it would not be good for your health to meet; and sure, my lord, it would be a hard case if you were killed now, havin' the luck of the sick calf that lived all the winther and died in the summer."

"Is it that big blackguard, _Shan More_, you mane?" said Andy.

"No less," said Nance--growing deadly pale as she cast a piercing glance into the dell, and cried, in a low, hurried tone--"Talk of the divil--and there he is--I see him peep out from behind a rock."

"He's running this way," said Andy.

"Then you run the other way," said Nance; "look there--I see him strive to hide a blunderbuss under his coat--gallop off, for the love o' G.o.d! or there'll be murther."

"Maybe there will be that same," said Andy, "if I leave you here, and he suspects you gave me the hard word." [Footnote: "Hard word" implies a caution.]

"Never mind me," said Nance, "save yourself--see, he's moving fast, he'll be near enough to you soon to fire."

"Get up behind me," said Andy; "I won't leave you here."

"Run, I tell you."

"I won't."

"G.o.d bless you, then," said the woman, as Andy held out his hand and gripped hers firmly.

"Put your foot on mine," said Andy.

The woman obeyed, and was soon seated behind our hero, gripping him fast by the waist, while he pushed his horse to a fast canter.

"Hold hard now," said Andy, "for there's a stiff jump here." As he approached the ditch of which he spoke, two men sprang up from it, and one fired, as Andy cleared the leap in good style, Nance holding on gallantly.

The horse was not many strokes on the opposite side, when another shot was fired in their rear, followed by a scream from the woman. To Andy's inquiry, if she was "kilt," she replied in the negative, but said "they hurt her sore," and she was "bleeding a power;" but that she could still hold on, however, and urged him to speed. The clearance of one or two more leaps gave her grievous pain; but a large common soon opened before them, which was skirted by a road leading directly to a farm-house, where Andy left the wounded woman, and then galloped off for medical aid; this soon arrived, and the wound was found not to be dangerous, though painful. The bullet had struck and pierced a tin vessel of a bottle form, in which Nance carried the liquid gratuities of the charitable, and this not only deadened the force of the ball, but glanced it also; and the escapement of the b.u.t.ter-milk, which the vessel contained, Nance had mistaken for the effusion of her own blood. It was a clear case, however, that if Nance had not been sitting behind Andy, Lord Scatterbrain would have been a dead man, so that his grat.i.tude and gallantry towards the poor beggar woman proved the means of preserving his own life.

CHAPTER LI

The news of the attack on Lord Scatterbrain ran over the country like wildfire, and his conduct throughout the affair raised his character wonderfully in the opinion of all cla.s.ses. Many who had hitherto held aloof from the mushroom lord, came forward to recognise the manly fellow, and cards were left at "the big house," which were never seen there before. The magistrates were active in the affair, and a reward was immediately offered for the apprehension of the offenders; but before any active steps could be taken by the authorities, Andy, immediately after the attack, collected a few stout fellows himself, and knowing where the den of Shan and his miscreants lay, he set off at the head of his party to try if he could not secure them himself; but before he did this, he despatched a vehicle to the farmhouse, where poor Nance lay wounded, with orders that she should be removed to his own house, the doctor having said that the transit would not be injurious.

A short time served to bring Andy and his followers to the private still, where a little looking about enabled them to discover the entrance, which was covered by some large stones, and a bunch of furze placed as a mask to the opening. It was clear that it was impossible for any persons inside to have thus covered the entrance, and it suggested the possibility that some of its usual inmates were then absent. Nevertheless, having such desperate characters to deal with, it was a service of danger to be leader in the descent to the cavern when the opening was cleared; but Andy was the first to enter, which he did boldly, only desiring his attendants to follow him quickly, and give him support in case of resistance. A lantern had been provided, Andy knowing the darkness of the den; and the party was thereby enabled to explore with celerity and certainty the hidden haunt of the desperadoes. The ashes of the fire were yet warm, but no one was to be seen, till Andy, drawing the screen of the bed, discovered a man lying in a seemingly helpless state, breathing with difficulty, and the straw about him dabbled with blood. On attempting to lift him, the wretch groaned heavily and muttered, "D--n you, let me alone--you've done for me--I'm dying."

The man was gently carried from the cave to the open air, which seemed slightly to revive him. His eyes opened heavily, but closed again; yet still he breathed. His wounds were staunched as well as the limited means and knowledge of the parties present allowed; and the ladder, drawn up from the cave and overlaid with tufts of heather, served to bear the sufferer to the nearest house, whence Andy ordered a mounted messenger to hurry for a doctor. The man seemed to hear what was going forward, for he faintly muttered, "the priest--the priest."

Andy, anxious to procure this most essential comfort to the dying man, went himself in search of Father Blake, whom he found at home, and who suggested that a magistrate might be also useful upon the occasion; and as Merryvale lay not much out of the way, Andy made a detour to obtain the presence of Squire Egan, while Father Blake pushed directly onward upon his ghostly mission.

Andy and the Squire arrived soon after the priest had administered spiritual comfort to the sufferer, who still retained sufficient strength to make his depositions before the Squire, the purport of which turned out to be of the utmost importance to Andy.

This man, it appeared, _was the husband of Bridget_, who had returned from transportation, and sought his wife and her dear brother, and his former lawless a.s.sociates, on reaching Ireland. On finding Bridget had married again, his anger at her infidelity was endeavoured to be appeased by the representations made to him that it was a "good job," inasmuch as "the lord" had been screwed out of a good sum of money by way of separate maintenance, and that he would share the advantage of that. When matters were more explained, however, and the convict found this money was divided among so many, who all claimed right of share in the plunder, his discontent returned. In the first place, the pettifogger made a large haul for his services. Shan More swore it was hard if a woman's own brother was not to be the better for her luck; and Larry Hogan claimed hush-money, for he could prove Bridget's marriage, and so upset their scheme of plunder. The convict maintained his claim as husband was stronger than any; but this, all the others declared, was an outlandish notion he brought back with him from foreign parts, and did not prevail in their code of laws by any manner o' means, and even went so far as to say they thought it hard, after they had "done the job," that he was to come in and lessen their profit, which he would, as they were willing to give an even share of the spoil; and after that, he must be the most discontented villain in the world if he was not pleased.

The convict feigned contentment, but meditated at once revenge against his wife and the gang, and separate profit for himself. He thought he might stipulate for a good round sum from Lord Scatterbrain, as he could prove him free of his supposed matrimonial engagement, and inwardly resolved he would soon pay a visit to his lordship. But his intentions were suspected by the gang, and a strict watch kept upon him; and though his dissimulation and contrivance were of no inferior order, Larry Hogan was his overmatch, and the convict was detected in having been so near Lord Scatterbrain's dwelling, that they feared their secret, if not already revealed, was no longer to be trusted to their new confederate's keeping; and it was deemed advisable to knock him on the head, and shoot my lord, which they thought would prevent all chance of the invalidity of the marriage being discovered, and secure the future payment of the maintenance.

How promptly the murderous determination was acted upon, the preceding events prove. Andy's courage in the first part of the affair saved his life; his promptness in afterwards seeking to secure the offenders led to the important discovery he had just made; and as the convict's depositions could be satisfactorily backed by proofs which he showed the means of obtaining, Andy was congratulated heartily by the Squire and Father Blake, and rode home in almost delirious delight at the prospect of making Oonah his wife. On reaching the stables, he threw himself from his saddle, let the horse make his own way to his stall, dashed through the back hall, and nearly broke his neck in tumbling up-stairs, burst open the drawing-room door, and made a rush upon Oonah, whom he hugged and kissed most outrageously, amidst exclamations of the wildest affection.

Oonah, half strangled and struggling for breath, at last freed herself from his embraces, and asked him, angrily, what he was about--in which inquiry she was backed by his mother.

Andy answered by capering round the room, shouting, "Hurroo! I'm not married at all--hurroo!" He turned over the chairs, upset the tables, threw the mantelpiece ornaments into the fire, seized the poker and tongs, and banged them together as he continued dancing and shouting.

Oonah and his mother stood gazing at his antics in trembling amazement, till at last the old woman exclaimed, "Holy Vargin! he's gone mad!"

whereupon she and her niece set up a violent screaming, which called Andy back to his propriety, and, as well as his excitement would permit, he told them the cause of his extravagant joy. His wonder and delight were shared by his mother and the blushing Oonah, who did not struggle so hard in Andy's embrace on his making a second vehement demonstration of his love for her.

"Let me send for Father Blake, my jewel," said Andy, "and I'll marry you at once."

His mother reminded him he must first have his present marriage proved invalid. Andy uttered several pieces of _original_ eloquence on "the law's delay."

"Well, anyhow," said he, "I'll drink your health, my darling girl, this day, as Lady Scatterbrain--for you must consider yourself as sitch."

"Behave yourself, my lord," said Oonah, archly.

"Bother!" cried Andy, s.n.a.t.c.hing another kiss.

"Hillo!" cried d.i.c.k Dawson, entering at the moment, and seeing the romping-match. "You're losing no time, I see, Andy."

Oonah was running from the room, laughing and blushing, when d.i.c.k interposed, and cried, "Ah, don't go, 'my lady,' that _is to be_."

Oonah slapped down the hand that barred her progress, exclaiming, "You're just as bad as he is, Mister Dawson!" and ran away.

d.i.c.k had ridden over, on hearing the news, to congratulate Andy, and consented to remain and dine with him. Oonah had rather, after what had taken place, he had not been there, for d.i.c.k backed Andy in his tormenting the girl and joined heartily in drinking to Andy's toast, which, according to promise, he gave to the health of the future Lady Scatterbrain.

It was impossible to repress Andy's wild delight; and in the excitement of the hour he tossed off b.u.mper after b.u.mper to all sorts of love-making toasts, till he was quite overcome by his potations, and fit for no place but bed. To this last retreat of "the glorious" he was requested to retire, and, after much coaxing, consented. He staggered over to the window-curtain, which he mistook for that of the bed; in vain they wanted to lead him elsewhere--he would sleep in no other bed but _that_ --and, backing out at the window-pane, he made a smash, of which he seemed sensible, for he said it wasn't a fair trick to put pins in the bed. "I know it was Oonah did that!--hip!--ha! ha! Lady Scatterbrain!--never mind --hip!--I'll have my revenge on you yet!"

They could not get him up-stairs, so his mother suggested he should sleep in her room, which was on the same floor, for that night, and at last he was got into the apartment. There he was a.s.sisted to disrobe, as he stood swaying about at a dressing-table. Chancing to lay his hands on a pill-box, he mistook it for his watch.

"Stop--stop!" he stammered forth--"I must wind my watch;" and, suiting the action to the word, he began twisting about the pill-box, the lid of which came off and the pills fell about the floor. "Oh, murder!" said Lord Scatterbrain, "the works of my watch are fallin' about the flure--pick them up--pick them up--pick them up--" He could speak no more, and becoming quite incapable of all voluntary action, was undressed and put to bed, the last sound which escaped him being a faint muttering--"pick them up."

CHAPTER THE LAST

The day following the eventful one just recorded, the miserable convict breathed his last. A printed notice was posted in all the adjacent villages, offering a reward for the apprehension of _Shan More_ and "other persons unknown," for their murderous a.s.sault; and a small reward was promised for such "private information as might lead to the apprehension of the aforesaid," &c., &c. Larry Hogan at once came forward and put the authorities on the scent, but still Shan and his accomplices remained undiscovered. Larry's information on another subject, however, was more effective. He gave his own testimony to the previous marriage of Bridget, and pointed out the means of obtaining more, so that, ere long, Lord Scatterbrain was a "free man." Though the depositions of the murdered man did not directly implicate Larry in the murderous attack, still it showed that he had partic.i.p.ated in much of their villany; but, as in difficult cases, we must put up with bad instruments to reach the ends of justice, so this rascal was useful for his evidence and private information, and got his reward.

But he got his reward in more ways than one. He knew that he dare not longer remain in the country after what had taken place, and set off directly for Dublin by the mail, intending to proceed to England; but England he never reached. As he was proceeding down the Custom-house quay in the dusk of the evening, to get on ship-board, his arms were suddenly seized and drawn behind him by a powerful grasp, while a woman in front drew a handkerchief across his mouth, and stifled his attempted cries.

His bundle was dragged from him, and the woman ransacked his pockets but they contained but a few shillings, Larry having hidden the wages of his treachery to his confederates in the folds of his neck-cloth.

To pluck this from his throat, many a fierce wrench was made by the woman, when her attempts on the pockets proved worthless; but the handkerchief was knotted so tightly that she could not disengage it. The approach of some pa.s.sengers along the quay alarmed the a.s.sailants of Larry, who, ere the iron grip released him, heard a deep curse in his ear growled by a voice he well knew, and then he felt himself hurled with gigantic force from the quay wall. Before the base, cheating, faithless scoundrel could make one exclamation, he was plunged into the Liffey--even before one mental aspiration for mercy, he was in the throes of suffocation! The heavy splash in the water caught the attention of those whose approach had alarmed the murderers, and seeing a man and woman running, a pursuit commenced, which ended by Newgate having two fresh tenants the next day.

And so farewell to the entire of the abominable crew, whose evil doings and merited fates have only been recorded when it became necessary to our story. It is better to leave the debased and the profligate in oblivion than drag their doings before the day; and it is with happy consciousness an Irishman may a.s.sert, that there is plenty of subject afforded by Irish character and Irish life honourable to the land, pleasing to the narrator, and sufficiently attractive to the reader, without the unwholesome exaggerations of crime which too often disfigure the fictions which pa.s.s under the t.i.tle of "Irish," alike offensive to truth as to taste--alike injurious both for private and public considerations.