d.i.c.k the younger laughed heartily, but really had not ready virtue sufficient about, to disclaim the pedlar's compliment.

"Come, then," he added; "let us hear what your favor is?"

"Oh, thin, thank you, an' G.o.d bless you, captain. It's this: only to know if you'd be good enough to grant a new lease of Cargah Farm to young Condy Dalton; for the ould man, by all accounts, is not long for this world."

Both turned their eyes upon him with a look of singular astonishment.

"Who are you at all, my good fellow?" asked the father; "or what devil drove you here on such an impudent message? A lease to the son of that ould murderer and his crew of beggars! That's good, d.i.c.k! Well done, soger! will you back him in that, captain? Ha, ha, ha! D--n me, if I ever heard the like of it!"

"I hope you will back me, captain," said the pedlar.

"Upon what grounds, comrade? Ha, ha, ha! Go on! Let us hear you!"

"Why, your honor, bekaise he's best ent.i.tled to it. Think of what it was when he got it, an' think of what it is now, and then ax yourselves--'Who raised it in value an' made it worth twiste what it was worth?' Wasn't it the Daltons? Didn't they lay out near eight hundre pounds upon it? An, didn't you, at every renewal, screw them up--beggin'

your pardon, gintlemen--until they found that the more they improved it the poorer they were gettin'? An' now that it lies there worth double its value, an' they that made it so (to put money into your pocket) beggars--within a few hundred yards of it--wouldn't it be rather hard to let them die an' starve in dest.i.tution, an' them wishin' to get it back at a raisonable rint?"

"In this country, brother soldier," replied d.i.c.k ironically, "we generally starve first and die afterwards."

"You may well say so, your honor, an' G.o.d knows, there's not upon the face of the arth a counthry where starvation is so much practised, or so well understood. Faith, unfortunately, it's the national divarsion wid us. However, is what I'm sayin' raisonable, gintlemen?"

"Exceedingly so," said d.i.c.k; "go on."

"Well, then, I wish to know, will you give them a new lease of their farm?"

"You do! do you?"

"Troth I do, your honor."

"Well, then," replied the son, "I beg to inform you that we will not."

"Why so, your honor?"

"Simply, you knave," exclaimed the father, in a pa.s.sion, "because we don't wish it. Kick him out, d.i.c.k!"

"My good friend and brother soldier," said d.i.c.k, "the fact is, that we are about to introduce a new system altogether upon our property. We are determined to manage it upon a perfectly new principle. It has been too much sublet under us, and we have resolved to rectify this evil. That is our answer. You get no lease. Provide for yourself and your friends, the Daltons, as best you can, but on this property you get no lease. That is your answer."

"Begone, now, you scoundrel," said the father, "and not a word more out of your head."

"Gintlemen!--gintlemen!"--exclaimed the pedlar, "have you no consciences? Is there no justice in the world? The misery, and sorrow, and sufferin's of this misfortunate family, will be upon you, I doubt, if you don't do them justice."

"Touch the bell, d.i.c.k! Here some one! Jemmy Branigan! Harry Lowry! Jack Clinton! Where are you all, you scoundrels? Here, put this rascal in the stocks immediately! in with him!"

Jemmy, who, from an adjoining room, had been listening to every word that pa.s.sed, now entered.

"Here, you, sir: clap this vagabond in the stocks for his insolence. He has come here purposely to insult myself and my son. To the stocks with him at once."

"No!" replied Jemmy; "the devil resave the stock will go on him this day. Didn't I hear every word that pa.s.sed? An' what did he say but the thruth, an' what every one knows to be the thruth?"

"Put him in the stocks, I desire you, this instant!"

"Throth if you wor to look at your mug in the gla.s.s, you'd feel that you'll soon be in a worse stocks yourself than ever you put any poor craythur into," replied the redoubtable Jemmy. "Do you be off about your business, in the mane time, you good-natured vagabone, or this ould fire-brand will get some one wid less conscience than I have, that'll clap you in them."

"Never mind, father," observed the son; "let the fellow go about his business--he's not worth your resentment."

The pedlar took the hint and withdrew, accompanied by Jemmy, on whose face there was a grin of triumph that he could not conceal.

"I tould you," he added, as they went down the steps, "that the same stocks was afore you; an' in the mane time, G.o.d pardon me for the injustice I did in keepin' you out o' them."

"Go on," replied the other; "devila harsh word ever I'll say to you again."

"Throth will you," said Jemmy; "an' both of us will be as fresh as a daisy in the mornin', plaise goodness. I have scarcely any one to abuse me, or to abuse, either, now that the ould masther is so feeble."

Jemmy extended his hand as he spoke, and gave the pedlar a squeeze, the cordiality of which was strongly at variance with the abuse he had given him.

"G.o.d bless you!" said the pedlar, returning the pressure; "your bark is worse than your bite. I'm off now, to mention the reception they gave me and the answers I got, to a man that will, maybe, bring themselves to their marrow-bones afore long."

"Ay, but don't abuse them, for all that," replied Jemmy, "for I won't bear it."

"Throth," returned the other, "you're a quare Jemmy--an' so G.o.d bless you!"

Having uttered these words, in an amicable and grateful spirit, our friend the pedlar bent his steps to the head inn of the next town--being that of the a.s.sizes, where Mr. Travers, the agent, kept his office.

CHAPTER XXVII. -- Sarah Ill--Mave Again, Heroic.

Young Henderson, whose pa.s.sion for Mave Sullivan was neither virtuous nor honorable, would not have lent himself, notwithstanding, to the unprincipled projects of the Prophet, had not that worthy personage gradually and dishonestly drawn him into a false position. In other words, he led the vain and credulous young man to believe that Mave had been seized with a secret affection for him, and was willing, provided everything was properly managed, to consent to an elopement. For this purpose, it was necessary that the plan should be executed without violence, as the Prophet well knew, because, on sounding young d.i.c.k upon that subject, in an early stage of the business, he had ascertained that the proposal of anything bordering upon outrage or force, would instantly cause him to withdraw from the project altogether. For this reason, then, he found it necessary, if possible to embark Sarah as an accomplice, otherwise, he could not effect his design without violence, and he felt that her co-operation was required to sustain the falsehood of his a.s.sertions to Henderson with regard to Mave's consent to: place herself under his protection. This was to be brought about so as to hoodwink Henderson, in the following manner: The Prophet proposed that Sarah should, by his own or her ingenuity, contrive to domicile herself in Jerry Sullivan's house for a few days previous to the execution of their design; not only for the purpose of using her influence, such as it was, to sway the young creature's mind and principles from the path of rect.i.tude and virtue, by dwelling upon the luxury and grandeur of her future life with Henderson, whose intentions were to be represented as honorable, but, if necessary, to leave a free ingress to the house, so as that under any circ.u.mstances, and even with a little violence, Mave should be placed in Henderson's hands. Should the Prophet, by his management, effect this, he was to receive a certain sum of money from his employer the moment he or his party had her in their possession--for such were the terms of the agreement--otherwise Donnel Dhu reserved to himself the alternative of disclosing the matter to her friends, and acquainting them with her situation. This, at all events, was readily consented to by Henderson, whose natural vanity and extraordinary opinion of his own merits in the eyes of the s.e.x, prevented him from apprehending any want of success with Mave, provided he had an opportunity of bringing the influence of his person, and his wonderful powers of persuasion, to bear upon such a simple country girl as he considered her to be. So far, then, he had taken certain steps to secure himself, whilst he left Henderson to run the risk of such contingencies as might in all probability arise from the transaction.

This, however, was but an under-plot of the Prophet, whose object was indeed far beyond that of becoming the paltry instrument of a rusty intrigue. It was a custom with d.i.c.k o' the Grange, for a few years previous to the date of our story, to sleep during the a.s.sizes, in the head inn of the town, attended by Jemmy Branigan. This was rendered in some degree necessary, by the condition of his bad leg, and his extraordinary devotion to convivial indulgence--a propensity to which he gave full stretch during the social license of the grand jury dinners.

Now, the general opinion was, that Henderson always kept large sums of money in the house--an opinion which we believe to have been correct, and which seemed to have been confirmed by the fact, that on no occasion were both father and son ever known to sleep out of the house at the same time, to which we may also add another--viz., that the whole family were well provided with fire arms, which were freshly primed and loaded every night.

The Prophet, therefore, had so contrived it, that young d.i.c.k's design upon Mave Sullivan, or in other words, the Prophet's own design upon the money coffers of the Grange, should render his absence from home necessary whilst his father was swilling at the a.s.sizes, by which arrangement, added to others that will soon appear, the house must, to a certain degree, be left unprotected, or altogether under the care of dissolute servants, whose habits, caught from those of the establishment, were remarkable for dissipation and neglect.

The Prophet, indeed, was naturally a plotter. It is not likely, however, that he would ever have thought of projecting the robbery of the Grange, had he not found himself, as he imagined, foiled in his designs upon Mave Sullivan, by the instinctive honor and love of truth which shone so brilliantly in the neglected character of his extraordinary daughter.

Having first entrapped her into a promise of secrecy--a promise which he knew death itself would scarcely induce her to violate, he disclosed to her the whole plan in the most plausible and mitigated language. Effort after effort was made to work upon her principles, but in vain. Once or twice, it is true, she entertained the matter for a time--but a momentary deliberation soon raised her naturally n.o.ble and generous spirit above the turpitude of so vile a project.

It was, then, in this state of things that the failure of the one, and the lesser plan, through the incorruptible honor of his daughter, drove him upon the larger and more tempting one of the burglary. In this latter, he took unto himself as his princ.i.p.al accomplice, Red Rody Duncan, whose anxiety to procure the driver's situation arose from the necessity that existed, to have a friend in the house, who might aid them in effecting a quiet entrance, and by unloading or wetting the fire-arms, neutralize the resistance which they might otherwise expect.

Sarah's excitement and distraction, however, resulting from her last interview with young Dalton, giving as it did, a fatal blow to her pa.s.sion and her hopes, vehement and extraordinary as they were, threw her across her father's path at the precise moment when her great but unregulated spirit, inflamed by jealousy and reckless from despair, rendered her most accessible to the wily and aggravating arguments with which he tempted and overcame her. Thus did he, so far as human means could devise, or foresight calculate, provide for the completion of two plots instead of one.

It is true, Mave Sullivan was not left altogether without being forewarned. n.o.body, however, had made her acquainted with the peculiar nature of the danger that was before her. Nelly M'Gowan, as she was called, had strongly cautioned her against both Donnel and Sarah, but then Nelly herself was completely in the dark as to the character of the injury against which she warned her, so that her friendly precautions were founded more upon the general and unscrupulous profligacy of Donnel's principles, and his daughter's violence, than upon any particular knowledge she possessed of her intentions towards her. Mave's own serene and innocent disposition was such in fact as to render her not easily impressed by suspicion; and our readers may have perceived, by the interview which took place between her and Sarah, that from the latter, she apprehended no injury.

It was on the following day after that interview, about two o'clock, that while she was spreading some clothes upon the garden hedge, during a sickly gleam of sunshine, our friend the pedlar made his appearance, and entered her father's house. Mave having laid her washing before the sun, went in and found him busily engaged in showing his wares, which consisted princ.i.p.ally of cutlery and trinkets. The pedlar, as she entered, threw a hasty glance at her, perceived that she shook down her luxuriant hair, which had been disarranged by a branch of thorn that was caught in it while stretching over the hedge. She at once recognized him, and blushed deeply; but he seemed altogether to have forgotten her.

"Ha!" he exclaimed, "well, that I may be blest, but it's many a long day since I seen such a head o' hair as that! Holy St. Countryman, but it's a beauty. Musha, a _Ora Gal_, maybe you'll dispose of it, for, in troth, if ever a face livin' could afford to part with its best ornament, your's is that one."