"I'll hould no more discoorse wid that circulatin' vagabone," replied Jemmy; "I'm a Christian man--a peaceable man; an' I know what my religion ordhers me to do when I meet the likes of him--and that is when he houlds the one cheek towardst me to give him a sound Christian rap upon the other. So to the divil I pitch, you, you villain, sowl and body, an' that's the worst I wish you. If you choose to be unchristian, be so; but, be my sowl, I'll not set you the example. Charley," he proceeded, addressing Hanlon, "I was sent for you in a hurry. Masther d.i.c.k wants you, and so does Red Rody--the villain! and I tell you to take care of him, for, like that vagabone, Judas, he'd kiss you this minute and betray you the next."

"I believe you're purty near the truth," replied Jemmy, "but I was near forgettin'--it seems the Crowner of the country is sick, an' there can't be an inquest held till he recovers; if he ever does recover, an' if it 'ud sarve poor ould Dalton, that he never may, I pray G.o.d this day!--come away, you'll be killed for stayin'."

Just then young Henderson himself called Hanlon forth, who, after some conversation with him, turned towards the garden, where he held a second conference with Red Rody, who, on leaving him appeared in excellent spirits, and kept winking and nodding, with a kind of burlesque good humor, at every one whom he knew, until he reached home.

In this state stood the incidents of our narrative, suspended for some time by the illness of the coroner, when Mr. Travers, himself a magistrate, came to the head inn of the county town in which he always put up, and where he held his office. He had for several days previously gone over the greater portion of the estate, and inspected the actual condition of the tenantry on it. It is unnecessary to say that he was grieved at the painful consequences of the middleman system, and of sub-letting in general. Wherever he went, he found the soil in many places covered with hordes of pauper occupants, one holding under another in a series that diminished from bad to worse in everything but numbers, until he arrived at a state of dest.i.tution that was absolutely!

disgraceful to humanity. And what rendered this state of things doubly painful and anomalous was the fact, that while these starving wretches lived upon his employer's property, they had no claim on him as a landlord, nor could he recognize them as tenants. It is true that these miserable creatures, located upon small patches of land, were obliged to pay their rents to the little tyrant who was over them, and he again, probably to a still more important little tyrant, and so on; but whenever it happened that the direct tenant, or any one of the series, neglected to pay his or their rent, of course the landlord had no other remedy than to levy it from off the soil, thus rendering it by no means an unfrequent case that the small occupiers who owed nothing to him or those above them were forced to see their property applied to the payment of the head rent, in consequence of the inability, neglect, or dishonesty of the middleman, or some other subordinate individual from whom, they held. This was a state of things which Mr. Travers wished to abolish, but to do so, without inflicting injury, however unintentional, or occasioning harshness to the people, was a matter not merely difficult but impossible. As we are not, however, writing a treatise upon the management of property, we shall confine ourselves simply to the circ.u.mstances only of such of the tenants as have enacted a part in our narrative.

About a week had now elapsed since the abusive contest between Jemmy Branigan and the pedlar; the coroner was beginning to recover, and Charley Hanlon's aunt had disappeared altogether from the neighborhood.

Previous to her departure, however, she, her nephew, and the pedlar, had several close, and apparently interesting conferences, into which their parish priest, the Rev. Anthony Devlin, was ultimately admitted. It was clear, indeed, that whatever secret the pedlar communicated, had inspired both Hanlon and his aunt with fresh energy in their attempts to discover the murderer of their relative; and there could be little doubt that the woman's disappearance from the scene of its perpetration was in some way connected with the steps they were taking to bring everything connected with it to light.

Travers, already acquainted with the committal of old Dalton, as he was with all the circ.u.mstances of his decline and eviction from his farm, was sitting in his office, about twelve o'clock, when our friend, the pedlar, bearing a folded paper in his hand, presented himself, with a request that he might be favored with a private interview. This, without any difficulty, was granted, and the following dialogue took place between them:--

"Well, my good friend," said the agent; "what is the nature of this private business of yours?"

"Why, plase your honor, it's a pet.i.tion in favor of ould Condy Dalton."

"A pet.i.tion! Of what use is a pet.i.tion to Dalton? Is he not now in gaol, on a charge of murder? You would not have me attempt to obstruct the course of justice, would you? The man will get a fair trial, I hope."

"I hope so, your honor; but this pet.i.tion is not about the crime the unfortunate man is in for; it's an humble prayer to your honor, hopin'

you might restore him--or, I ought rather to say, his poor family, to the farm that they wor so cruelly put out of. Will your honor read it, sir, and look into it, bekaise, at any rate, it sets forth too common a case."

"I am partly acquainted with the circ.u.mstances, already; however, let me see the paper."

"The pedlar placed it in Mr. Travers' hands,--who on looking over it, read, somewhat to his astonishment, as follows:--

"The humble pet.i.tion of Cornelius Dalton, to his Honor, Mr. John Robert Travers, Esq., on behalf of himself, his Wife, and his afflicted family; now lying in a state of almost superhuman Dest.i.tution--by Eugenius M'Grane, Philomath and cla.s.sical Instructor in the learned Languages of Latin, English, and the Hibernian Vernacular, with an inceptive Initiation into the Rudiments of Greek, as far as the Gospel of St. John the Divine; attended with copious Disquisitions on the relative Merits of moral and physical Philosophy, as contrasted with the pusillanimous Lectures of that Ignoramus of the first Water, Phadrick M'Swagger, falsely calling himself Philomath--_c.u.m multis aliis quos enumerare longum est_:

"Humbly Sheweth--

"That Cornelius Dalton, late of Cargah, gentleman agriculturist, held a farm of sixty-six Irish acres, under the Right Honorable (the reverse could be proved with sound and legitimate logic) Lord Mollyborough, an absentee n.o.bleman, and proprietor of the Tullystretchem estate. That the said Cornelius Dalton entered upon the farm of Cargah, with a handsome capital and abundant stock, as became a man bent on improving it, for both the intrinsic and external edification and comfort of himself and family. That the rent was originally very high; and, upon complaint of this, several well indited remonstrances, urged with most persuasive and enthusiastic eloquence, as the inditer hereof can testify, were most insignificantly and superciliously disregarded. That the said Mr. Cornelius Dalton persisted notwithstanding this great act of contemptuosity and discouragement to his creditable and industrious endeavors, to expend, upon the aforesaid farm, in solid and valuable improvements, a sum of seven hundred pounds and upwards, in building, draining, enclosing, and manuring--all of which improvements transcendantly elevated the value of the farm in question, as the whole rational population of the country could depose to--_me ipso teste quoque_. That when this now highly emendated tenement was brought to the best condition of excellence of which it was susceptible, the middleman landlord--_va miseris agricolis!_--called upon him for an elevation of rent, which was reluctantly complied with, under the tyrannical alternative of threatened ejection, incarceration of cattle, &c, &c, and many other proceedings equally inhuman and iniquitous. That this rack-rent, being now more than the land could pay, began to paralyze the efforts, and deteriorate the condition of the said Mr. Cornelius Dalton; and which, being concatenated with successive failures in his crops, and mortality among his cattle, occasioned him, as it were, to retrogade from his former state; and in the course of a few calamitous years, to decline, by melancholy gradation and oppressive treatment from Richard Henderson, Esq., J.P., his landlord, to a state of painful struggle and poverty. That the said Richard Henderson, Esq., his unworthy landlord, having been offered a still higher rent, from a miserable disciple, named Darby Skinadre, among others, unfeelingly availed himself of Dalton's _res augusta_--and under play of his privileges as a landlord, levied an execution upon his property, auctioned him out, and expelled him from the farm; thus turning a respectable man and his family, hopeless and houseless, beggars upon the world, to endure misery and dest.i.tution. That the said Mr. Cornelius Dalton, now plain Corny Dalton--for vile poverty humilifies even the name--or rather his respectable family, among whom, _facile princeps_, for piety and unshaken trust in her Redeemer, stands his truly unparalleled wife, are lying in a damp wet cabin within about two hundred perches of his former residence, groaning with the agonies of hunger, dest.i.tution, dereliction, and disease, in such a state of complicated and multiform misery as rarely falls to the lot of human eyes to witness. That the burthen and onus of this pet.i.tion is, to humbly supplicate that Mr.

Cornelius Dalton, or rather his afflicted and respectable family, may be reinstated in their farm as aforesaid, or if not, that Richard Henderson, J.P., may be compelled to swallow such a t.i.tillating emetic from the head landlord as shall compel him to eructate to this oppressed and plundered man all the money he expended in making improvements, which remain to augment the value of the farm, but which, at the same time, were the means of ruining himself and his most respectable family: for, as the bard says, '_sio vos non vobis_,' &c, &c. Of the remainder of this appropriate quotation, your honor cannot be incognizant, or any man who has had the advantage of being college-bred, as every true gentleman or '_h.o.m.o factus ad unguem_' must have, otherwise he fails to come under this category.--And your pet.i.tioner will ever pray."

"Are you the Mr. Eugenius McGrane," asked the agent, "who drew up this extraordinary doc.u.ment?"

"No, your honor; I'm only merely a friend of the Daltons, although a stranger in the neighborhood."

"But what means have Dalton or his family, granting that he escapes from this charge of murder that's against him, of stocking or working so large a farm? I am aware myself that the contents of this pet.i.tion, with all its pedantry, are too true."

"But consider, sir, that he sunk seven hundred pounds in it, an' that, according to everything like fair play, he ought either to get his farm again, at a raisonable rate, or his money that raised its value for the landlord, back again; sure, that's but fair, your honor."

"I'm not here to discuss the morality of the subject, my good friend, neither do I question the truth of your argument, simply as you put it.

I only say, that what you ask, is impracticable. You probably know not d.i.c.k o' the Grange, for you say you are a stranger--if you did, you would not put yourself to the trouble of getting even a pet.i.tion for such a purpose written."

"It's a hard case, your honor."

"It is a hard case; but the truth is, I see nothing that can be done for the Daltons. To talk of putting a family, in such a state as they are now in, back again, upon such a farm, is stark nonsense--without stock or capital of any kind--the thing is ridiculous."

"But suppose they had stock and capital?"

"Why, then, they certainly would have the best right to the farm--but where's the use of talking about stock or capital, so far as they are concerned?"

"I wish your honor would interfere for an oppressed and ill-treated family, against as great a rogue, by all accounts, as ever broke bread--I wish you would make me first sure that they'd get their farm."

"To what purpose, I say?"

"Why, sir, for a raison I have. If your honor will make me sure that they'll get their land again, that's all I want."'

"What is your reason? Have you capital, and are you willing to a.s.sist them?"

The pedlar shook his head. "Is it the likes o' me, your honor? No, but maybe it might be made up for them some way."

"I believe," said the agent, "that your intentions are good; only that they are altogether impracticable. However, a thought strikes me. Go to d.i.c.k o' the Grange, and lay your case before him. Ask a new lease for your friends, the Daltons--of course he won't give it; but at all events, come back to me, and let me know, as nearly in his own words as you can, what answer he will give you; go now, that is all that I can do for you in the matter."

"Barrin' this, your honor, that set in case the poor heart-broken Daltons wor to get capital some way."

"Perhaps," said Travers, interrupting him, "you can a.s.sist them."

"Oh, if I could!--no, but that set in case, as I said, that it was to be forthcomin', you persave. Me!--oh, the Lord that _I was_ able!"

"Very well," replied the other, anxious to rid himself of the pedlar, "that will do, now. You are, I perceive, one of those good-natured, speculating creatures, who are anxious to give hope and comfort to every one. The world has many like you; and it often happens, that when some good fortune does throw the means of doing good into your power, you turn out to be a poor, pitiful, miserable crew, without actual heart or feeling. Goodbye, now. I have no more time to spare--try d.i.c.k o' the Grange himself, and let me know his answer."

So saying, he rang the bell, and our friend the pedlar, by no means satisfied with the success of his interview, took his leave.

CHAPTER XXIII. -- Darby in Danger--Nature Triumphs.

The mild and gentle Mave Sullivan, with all her natural grace and un.o.btrusive modesty, was yet like many of the fair daughters of her country, possessed of qualities which frequently lie dormant in the heart until some trying calamity or startling event of more than ordinary importance, awakens them into life and action. Indeed, any one in the habit of observing the world, may have occasionally noticed, that even within the range of his own acquaintances, there has been many a quiet and apparently diffident girl, without pretence or affectation of any kind, who when some unexpected and stunning blow has fallen either upon herself or upon some one within the circle of her affections, has manifested a spirit so resolute or a devotion so heroic, that she has at once const.i.tuted herself the lofty example whom all admire and endeavor to follow. The unrecorded calamities of ordinary life, and the annals of human affection, as they occur from day to day around us, are full of such n.o.ble instances of courage and self sacrifice on the part of woman for the sake of those who are dear to her. Dear, holy, and heroic woman!

how frequently do we who too often sneer at your harmless vanities and foibles, forget the light by which your love so often dispels the darkness of our affliction, and the tenderness with which your delicious sympathy charms our sorrows and our sufferings to rest, when nothing else can succeed in giving us one moment's consolation!

The situation of the Daltons, together with the awful blow which fell upon them at a period of such unexampled misery, had now become the melancholy topic of conversation among their neighbors, most, if not all, of whom were, however, so painfully absorbed in their own individual afflictions either of death, or famine, or illness, as to be able to render them no a.s.sistance. Such as had typhus in their own families were incapable of attending to the wants or distress of others, and such as had not, acting under the general terror of contagion which prevailed, avoided the sick houses as they would a plague.

On the morning after old Dalton's removal to prison, Jerry Sullivan and his family were all a.s.sembled around a dull fire, the day being, as usual, so wet that it was impossible to go out unless upon some matter of unusual importance; there was little said, for although they had hitherto escaped the fever, still their sufferings and struggles were such as banished cheerfulness from among them. Mave appeared more pale and dejected than they had ever yet seen her, and it was noticed by one or two of the family, that she had been occasionally weeping in some remote corner of the house where she thought she might do so without being observed.

"Mave, dear," said her father, "what is the matter wid you? You look, darlin', to be in very low spirits to-day. Were you cryin'?"

She raised her large innocent eyes upon him, and they instantly filled with tears.

"I can't keep it back from you, father," she replied, "let me do as I will--an' oh, father dear, when we look out upon the world that is in it, an' when we see how the hand o' G.o.d is takin' away so many from among us, and when we see how the people everywhere is sufferin' and strugglin' wid so much--how one is here this day, and in a week to come in the presence of their Judge! Oh, surely, when we see all the doin's of death and distress about us, we ought to think that it's no time to harbor hatred or any other bad or unchristian feelin's in our hearts!"

"It is not, indeed, darlin'; an' I hope n.o.body here does."

"No," she replied; and as she spoke, the vibrations of sorrow and of sympathy shook her naturally sweet voice into that tender expression which touches the heart of the hearer with such singular power--"no, father," she proceeded, "I hope not; religion teaches us a different lesson--not only to forgive our enemies, but to return good for evil."

"It does, _achora machree_," replied her father, whose eyes expressed a kind of melancholy pride, as he contemplated his beautiful but sorrowful looking girl, giving utterance to truths which added an impressive and elevated character to her beauty.