"At this present time, Phil, it must bo secret--but it is arranged between him and me, that he is to succeed Harman in Beleveen; whilst you are to come in for M'Loughlin's holding."
"For which I shall have the pleasure,to drink your health to-night, my old boy--upon my honor and soul you are an excellent old cock, and I'm very proud of you."
"Go ahead, Phil; no nonsense. But stay, are those fellows of mine come yet?--I shall receive their informations, and have Harman in the stone jug before night. It is a bad case of murder committed upon a man in the execution of the law, do you see, Phil, and consequently I cannot take bail."
"No, certainly not, captain--as Darby says, certainly not, plaise your worship--ha, ha!"
"Come, Phil, keep quiet; it is now time that operations should seriously commence. I have gained most of my points, thank--Valentine M'Clutchy, at all events. I am head agent; you are my Deputy-master of an Orange Lodge--a Magistrate, and write J.P. after my name--Captain and Paymaster in the Castle Cumber cavalry, and you lieutenant; and though last, not least, thanks to my zeal and activity in the Protestant cause, I am at length a member of the Grand Panel of the county. Phil, my boy, there is nothing like religion and loyalty when well managed, but otherwise--"
"They are not worth a feather," replied Phil; "right, captain--there's an oracle again."
"And, Phil, my son; what is there wrong in this? In fact there is scarcely a better capital to trade on than religion and loyalty. You know what I mean, Phil;--not the things, if there be such things, which I must beg leave to doubt; but that principle which causes one man to hate another, in proportion to its influence over him."
"Ay," said Phil, "just as you and I, who have not got a touch of religion in our whole composition, have the character of being two of the staunchest Protestants in the county."
"Yes," replied the father, "and in this case the fiction is as good and better than the truth. The fiction, Phil, under which our religion appears is our own interests--no, I am wrong--the fiction under which our interest appeal's is our religion--that is the way of it; and the truth is, Phil, that ninety-nine men out of every hundred will go ninety-nine miles for their interests, before they will go one for either religion or truth--that's the way of it, too. However, pass that--now about Poll Doolin and the hint I gave you?"
"Why, you know at that time matters were not ripe for it. Don't you remember telling me so yourself?"
"I do, but I speak of your present intentions."
"Faith, my present intentions would be to marry the girl, Papist though she be, if I could; but as that's out of the question, I will now follow up your hint."
"Then you had better see Poll, and go on with it. Are you aware, besides, that the concern is tottering?"
"The manufactory! No--is that possible?"
"It is a fact; but you know not how honest Solomon and I have been at work. It is tottering, Lieutenant M'Clutchy, and in a short time you will see what you shall see."
"Well," said Phil, "so far everything is turning out very fortunate for us--but I think, Captain, that you are one of those men who are born under what they call a lucky planet;--eh? old boy?"
"Well, I think so; but in the meantime see Poll Doolin, and after that pay a visit to my father. The old scoundrel is upon his last legs, and there can be no harm in paying him some attention now. You are not a favorite of his; so smooth him down as much as you can. I don't myself expect that he will remember either of us in his will; but, as he is hasty and capricious, it is difficult to say what effect a favorable impression might have upon him."
"Neither are you a favorite with Isabel, or Jezabel, as he calls her."
"No, I made a bad move there--but, after all, what did I, or rather, what could I lose by neglecting her? Did she not succeed in banishing every one of his relatives from about him? It was neither her interest nor her inclination to keep in with his friends:--go and see him, at all events; reconnoitre, and report accordingly--and now if these fellows are come let them be sent in."
Phil accordingly withdrew to follow up his own speculations, and in a few minutes our friends, who so bravely distinguished themselves in the widow's cabin, entered the office. Val, like most men of his class and experience, was forced to undergo strong contests between the vanity occasioned by his success in life, and his own shrewd sense and acute perception of character. Whenever he could indulge that vanity without allowing its gratification to be perceived by others, he always did so; but if he happened to have a person to deal with, whom he suspected of a sufficiently keen penetration, his own sagacity always checked its display. No man ever puzzled him so thoroughly as O'Drive, who so varied and timed his flattery, as to keep him in a state of perpetual alternation between a perception of the fellow's knavery, and a belief in his simplicity of heart. On one occasion he would exclaim to himself or Phil, "This O'Drive is a desperate knave,--it's impossible that he can be honest;" and again, "Well, well; there is too much simplicity there, too much truth unnecessarily told, to allow me to consider that poor devil a rogue--no, he is honest." The consequence was, that Darby flattered him, and he relished it so strongly because he did not imagine it was intentional, that Darby understood his weak points, in that respect, better than any man living. This, in a country where the people are shrewd observers in general, could scarcely be supposed to escape their observation; nor did it. Darby's manner was so naturally imitated by others, that even the keen and vigilant Valentine M'Olutchy was frequently over-reached without being at all conscious of the fact.
When the men of the Castle Cumber corps came in, they found their captain sitting, or rather lolling, in a deep-seated arm-chair, dressed in a morning-gown and red morocco slippers. He was, or appeared to be, deeply engaged over a pile of papers, parchments, and letters, and for about a minute raised not his head. At length he drew a long breath, and exclaimed in a soliloquy--"just so, my lord, just so; every man that scruples to support the Protestant interests will meet no countenance from you;--'nor shall he, Mr. M'Clutchy, from you, as my representative,' you add--'and I beg you'"--he went on to road a few lines further--"'to transmit me the names and capacities of all those who are duly active on my property in suppressing disturbance, convicting criminals, and preserving the peace; especially those who are remarkable for loyal and constitutional principles; such are the men we will cherish, such are the men we must and ought to serve.' It is very true, my lord, it is very true indeed, and--oh! my friends, I beg your pardon! I hadn't noticed you--oh, dear me! how is this? why I didn't imagine you had been so sadly abused as all this comes to--this is dreadful, and all in resisting the king's warrant against the murderer.
But how did it happen that this Harman murdered our poor friend Harpur?"
"Harpur is done for, captain, sure enough; there's no doubt of that."
"Well, it's one comfort that we live in a country where there is justice, my friends. Of course you will prosecute him for this diabolical murder; I sent for you to receive your informations, and we shall lodge him in gaol before night."
"I would rather prosecute that Blackguard Rimon-a-hattha," said a man, whose head was awfully swollen, and bound up with a handkerchief, "Rimon, Captain, is the greatest rascal of the two--he is, by, Japurs."
"Yes, but is he not an idiot, Johnston? In point of law he is only a fiction, and cannot be prosecuted."
"Fiction, Captain! Sowl, I don't know what you call a fiction--but if I'm guessin' properly, hell to the much of it was in his blows--look at how my head is, and I wish you could see my ribs, plase your worship."
"Well but let us come to the most important matter first--and before I go further, my friends and brothers, I would just throw out for your satisfaction, a few observations that I wish to impress upon you.
Recollect that in this business, and in every business like it, you must have the pleasure at least of reflecting that you have now a magistrate who will see that all due care is taken of your interests--who will accompany your proceedings step by step, and see that all is as it ought to be. That is not partiality, my dear friends; that is not favor nor affection, nor leaning to you; no, nor--ha, ha, ha, leaning from you, either, my friends."
"Long life to your worship! Long life to you, Captain! You're the right sort, and no mistake."
"M'Dowel, what detained you from your lodge on Thursday night."
"I was buying a springer in Hush fair, and didn't get home in time, your worship."
"Well, M'Dowel, mark-me,--I neither can, nor will, overlook neglect in these matters. The man that neglects them wilfully, is a man I won't depend upon--and two of your neighbors were absent from parade on Wednesday week. Now, it's really too bad to expect that I, or any other gentleman in the country, will exert ourselves so strenuously to sustain and extend our own principles, or! to speak plainly, to keep them up--to maintain our ascendancy,--if we cannot reckon upon the earnest and cordial support of those for whose sake we take all this trouble--upon my honor it's a shame."
"It is a shame, Captain, and I say here's one," placing his hand upon his heart, "of the right kidney. By the holy William, there is."
"We're all so, your worship," replied Sharpe, "and sure every one knows it--but, plaise your honor, what's to be done about Harman?"
"Why, prosecute him for the murder of course."
"But then," said one of them, "sure Harman didn't murder him, Captain--among ourselves, it was all accident."
M'Clutchy seemed surprised at this, and after hearing their individual opinions, which indeed, conflicted very much, some positively asserting that he did, and others that he did not, murder the man, he began to view the matter in a somewhat different and more cautious light. He mused for some time; however, and after a second and more deliberate investigation, finding that there were two for the murder and only one against it, he at length took their informations, resolving to bring the matter to trial at all hazards. The warrant for Harmon's apprehension was accordingly issued, and entrusted to a dozen of the most resolute fellows in his corps; who so far enabled our magistrate to fulfil his intention, that they lodged his enemy in the county prison that very night.
The next morning, when reading the papers, our Captain was not a little surprised at reading in one of them an advertisement to the following effect:
"To the public--found, in the office of Mr. Solomon M'Slime, a Bank of Ireland Note, of large amount. The person losing it may have it by giving a proper description of same, and paying the expenses of this advertisement. N. B.--It is expected, as the loser of the note must be in affluent circumstances, that he will, from principles of Christian sympathy, contribute, or enable some Christian friend to contribute, a moderate donation to some of our greatest public charities. Thus will that which at the first view appears to be serious calamity, be made, under Him, a blessing and a consolation, not only to the wealthy individual who lost the money, but to some of our destitute fellow creatures. This, however, is not named as a condition, but merely as a suggestion offered from motives of benignity and duty.
"Also, just published, _The Religious Attorney_; being a reconcilement between Honesty and Law; or a blessed Union between Light and Darkness.
By S. M'S. Tenth Thousand.
"Also, in the Press, and will soon be published, done up neatly in foolscap, and rogue's binding for cheapness, by the same author, _The Converted Bailiff_; being designed as a companion to _The Religious Attorney_. These productions need not be sought for with any of the profane booksellers of the city; but only at the Religious Depositories, or at those godly establishments in Sackville street and College green."
This, however, was not all. In a different column appeared the following; which, however, did not surprise M'Clutchy:
"Glorious Triumph of Religious Truth.
"In another part of our paper, our readers will perceive in an advertisement, an additional proof, if such were necessary, of the strong integrity of that ornament of his profession, both as an Attorney and Christian, Mr. Solomon M'Slime. This gentleman, whilst he devotes himself, with a pure and guileless heart, to the extensive practice which his high principles and great skill have gained him in his profession, does not neglect the still higher and more important interests of himself and his fellow creatures. It is a gracious thing to know that a spirit of deep and earnest inquiry is now abroad, by which hundreds are, under God, brought from darkness to light--from the gall of bitterness and the bond of iniquity, out into the freedom of perfect day. Verily there is a new Reformation abroad--the strongholds of Popery are fast falling one after another. In the neighborhood of Mount-starve-'em, the spirit has been poured out most abundantly; and this manifestation is the more gracious, when we reflect that the dreadful famine which now prevails throughout the country, has been made (always under Him) the precious but trying means of bringing the poor benighted creatures to taste the fruits of a better faith. Nothing, indeed, can equal the bounty of that excellent nobleman, Lord------, who supplies beef and blankets--Bibles and bread--to those who may be likened to the multitude that were fed so miraculously in the wilderness--that is to say, who followed the good shepherd for his doctrine, and were filled with bread. Mr. M'Slime, who has within his own humble sphere not been inactive, can boast at least of having plucked one brand out of the burning, in the person of Darby O'Drive, the respectable bailiff of Valentine M'Clutchy, Esq., the benevolent agent of the Castle Cumber estate--to which Mr. M'Slime himself is law agent. It is understood that on next Sabbath (D.V.) Mr. O'Drive will make a public profession of his faith--or, in other words, "that he will recant the errors of Popery, and embrace those of Protestantism."* The merit of his conversion is due--but merit there is none--to Mr.
M'Slime, or rather to his two very popular and searching tracts, called, 'Spiritual Food for Babes of Grace,' and 'The Religious Attorney,'
which he had placed for perusal in Mr. O'Drive's hands. Mr. O'Drive now declares himself a Babe of Grace, and free from the bonds of sin; or, as he more simply, but truthfully and characteristically expresses it--a beautiful specimen indeed of his simplicity of views--'he is replevined from the pound of human fraility--no longer likely to be brought to the devil's auction, or knocked down to Satan as a bad bargain.'--For ourselves, we cannot help thinking that this undoubted triumph of religious truth, in the person of Darby O'Drive, is as creditable to the zeal of Mr. M'Slime, as it is to his sincerity. Encouraged by this great success, Mr. M'Slime, seconded by several of our leading controversialists, has succeeded in getting up a polemical discussion, on the merits of the Protestant and Popish creeds. The particulars have not been decided upon, but they shall probably appear in an early number of our paper. In the meantime we are authorized by Mr. Darby O'Drive to issue a formal challenge to any Popish and idolatrous bailiff in Ireland, to discuss with him the relative powers, warrants, processes, triumphs, conflagrations, and executions of their resspective churches."
* This expression has been attributed to Faulkner, the printer of Swift's works; but it is much more likely that it belongs to the Dean himself.
He had scarcely finished this characteristic paragraph, when O'Drive's knock, as usual, was heard, and in a few minutes the redoubted champion and challenger entered. There was a knavish demureness about him, and a kind of comic solemnity in his small, cunning gray eye, that no painter could copy.
"Why, you scoundrel," said Val, "you're overdoing the thing altogether; is it possible that M'Slime is such a spooney as not to see through you?"
"Ah, Captain, you don't make any allowance for my simplicity; sure you know, sir, I must grow young and innocent, if I'm to become a babe of grace, your worship."