'I lay in the small room or closet, off the chamber in which he slept. I was suffering under a bad fracture, and dosed with opium. 'Tis all very strange, Sir. I saw everything that happened. I saw him stab Beauclerc.

Don't question me; it tires me. I think 'twas a dagger. It looked like a small bayonet I'll tell you how--all, by-and-by.'

He sipped a little wine and water, and wiped his lips with a very tremulous handkerchief.

'I never spoke of it, for I could not. The whole of that five minutes'

work slipped from my mind, and was gone quite and clean when I awoke.

What I saw I could not interrupt. I was in a cataleptic state, I suppose. I could not speak; but I saw like a lynx, and heard every whisper. When I awakened in the morning I remembered nothing. I did not know I had a secret. The knowledge was sealed up until the time came. A sight of Charles Archer's face at any time would have had, as I suppose, the same effect. When I saw him here, the first time, it was at the general's at Belmont; though he was changed by time, and carefully disguised, all would not do. I felt the sight of him was fatal. I was quite helpless; but my mind never stopped working upon it till--till--'

Sturk groaned.

'See now,' said Toole, 'there's time enough, and don't fatigue yourself.

There, now, rest quiet a minute.'

And he made him swallow some more wine; and felt his pulse and shook his head despondingly at Lowe, behind his back.

'How is it?' said Sturk, faintly.

'A little irritable--that's all,' said Toole.

''Till one night, I say,'--Sturk resumed, after a minute or two, 'it came to me all at once, awake--I don't know--or in a dream; in a moment I had it all. 'Twas like a page cut out of a book--lost for so many years.' And Sturk moaned a despairing wish to Heaven that the secret had never returned to him again.

'Yes, Sir--like a page cut out of a book, and never missed till 'twas found again; and then sharp and clear, every letter from first to last.

Then, Sir--then--thinking 'twas no use at that distance of time taking steps to punish him, I--I foolishly let him understand I knew him. My mind misgave me from the first. I think it was my good angel that warned me. But 'tis no use now. I'm not a man to be easily frightened. But it seemed to me he was something altogether worse than a man, and like--like Satan; and too much for me every way. If I was wise I'd have left him alone. But 'tis no good fretting now. It was to be. I was too outspoken--'twas always my way--and I let him know; and--and you see, he meant to make away with me. He tried to take my life, Sir; and I think he has done it. I'll never rise from this bed, gentlemen. I'm done for.'

'Come, Doctor Sturk, you mustn't talk that way, Pell will be out this evening, and Dillon may be--though faith! I don't quite know that Pell will meet him--but we'll put our heads together, and deuce is in it or we'll set you on your legs again.'

Sturk was s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g his lips sternly together, and the lines of his gruff haggard face were quivering, and a sullen tear or two started down from his closed eye.

'I'm--I'm a little nervous, gentlemen--I'll be right just now I'd like to see the--the children, if they're in the way, that's all--by-and-by, you know.'

'I've got Pell out, you see--not that there's any special need--you know; but he was here before, and it wouldn't do to offend him; and he'll see you this afternoon.'

'I thank you, Sir,' said Sturk, in the same dejected way.

'And, Sir,' said Lowe, 'if you please, I'll get this statement into the shape of a deposition or information, for you see 'tis of the vastest imaginable importance, and exactly tallies with evidence we've got elsewhere, and 'twouldn't do, Sir, to let it slip.'

And Toole thought he saw a little flush mount into Sturk's sunken face, and he hastened to say--

'What we desire, Dr. Sturk, is to be able to act promptly in this case of my Lord Dunoran. Measures must be taken instantly, you see, for 'tis of old standing, and not a day to be lost, and there's why Mr. Lowe is so urgent to get your statement in white and black.'

'And sworn to,' added Mr. Lowe.

'I'll swear it,' said Sturk, in the same sad tones.

And Mrs. Sturk came in, and Toole gave leave for chicken broth at twelve o'clock, about two table-spoonsful, and the same at half-past one, when he hoped to be back again. And on the lobby he gave her, with a cheery countenance, all the ambiguous comfort he could. And Lowe asked Mrs.

Sturk for more pens and paper, and himself went down to give his man a direction at the door, and on the way, in the hall, Toole looking this way and that, to see they weren't observed, beckoned him into the front parlour, and, said he, in a low key--

'The pulse is up a bit, not very much, but still I don't like it--and very hard, you see--and what we've to dread, you know's inflammation; and he's so shocking low, my dear Sir, we must let him have wine and other things, or we'll lose him that way; and you see it's a mighty unpleasant case.'

And coming into the hall, in a loud confident voice he cried--'And I'll be here again by half-past one o'clock.'

And so he beckoned to the boy with his horse to come up, and chatted in the interim with Mr. Lowe upon the steps, and told him how to manage him if he grew exhausted over his narrative; and then mounting his nag, and kissing his hand and waving his hat to Mrs. Sturk, who was looking out upon him from Barney's window, he rode away for Dublin.

Toole, on reaching town, spurred on to the dingy residence of Mr. Luke Gamble. It must be allowed that he had no clear intention of taking any step whatsoever in consequence of what he might hear. But the little fellow was deuced curious; and Dirty Davy's confidence gave him a sort of right to be satisfied.

So with his whip under his arm, and a good deal out of breath, for the stairs were steep, he bounced into the attorney's sanctum.

'Who's _that? Is_ that?--Why, bless my soul and body! 'tis yourself,'

cried Toole, after an astonished pause of a few seconds at the door, springing forward and grasping Nutter by both hands, and shaking them vehemently, and grinning very joyously and kindly the while.

Nutter received him cordially, but a little sheepishly. Indeed, his experiences of life, and the situations in which he had found himself since they had last met, were rather eccentric and instructive than quite pleasant to remember. And Nutter, in his way, was a proud fellow, and neither liked to be gaped at nor pitied.

But Toole was a thorough partisan of his, and had been urgent for permission to see him in gaol, and they knew how true he had been to poor Sally Nutter, and altogether felt very much at home with him.

So sitting in that twilight room, flanked with piles of expended briefs, and surrounded with neatly docketed packets of attested copies, notices, affidavits, and other engines of legal war--little Toole having expended his congratulations, and his private knowledge of Sturk's revelations, fell upon the immediate subject of his visit.

'That rogue, Davy O'Reegan, looked in on me not an hour ago, at the Phoenix' (and he gave them a very spirited, but I'm afraid a somewhat fanciful description of the combat.) 'And I'm afraid he'll give us a deal of trouble yet. He told me that the certificate--'

'Ay--here's a copy;' and Luke Gamble threw a paper on the table before him.

'That's it--Mary Duncan--1750--the very thing--the rascal! Well, he said, you know, but I knew better, that you had admitted the certificate formally.'

'So I have. Sir,' said. Mr. Gamble, drily, stuffing his hands into his breeches' pockets, and staring straight at Toole with elevated eyebrows, and as the little doctor thought, with a very odd expression in his eyes.

'You _have_, Sir?'

'I have!' and then followed a little pause, and Mr. Gamble said--

'I did so, Sir, because there's no disputing it--and--and I think, Doctor Toole, I know something of my business.'

There was another pause, during which Toole, flushed and shocked, turned his gaze from Gamble to Nutter.

''Tis a true bill, then?' said Toole, scarcely above his breath, and very dismally.

A swarthy flush covered Nutter's dark face. The man was ashamed.

''Tis nigh eighteen years ago, Sir,' said Nutter embarra.s.sed, as he well might be. 'I was a younger man, then, and was bit, Sir, as many another has been, and that's all.'

Toole got up, stood before the fire-place, and hung his head, with compressed lips, and there was a silence, interrupted by the hard man of the law, who was now tumbling over his papers in search of a doc.u.ment, and humming a tune as he did so.

'It may be a good move for Charles Nutter, Sir, but it looks very like a checkmate for poor Sally,' muttered Toole angrily.

Mr. Luke Gamble either did not hear him, or did not care a farthing what he said; and he hummed his tune very contentedly.

'And I had, moreover,' said he, 'to make another admission for the same reason, videlicet, that Mary Matchwell, who now occupies a portion of the Mills, the promovent in this suit, and Mary Duncan mentioned in that certificate, are one and the same person. Here's our answer to their notice, admitting the fact.'

'I thank you,' said Toole again, rather savagely, for a glance over his shoulder had shown him the attorney's face grinning with malicious amus.e.m.e.nt, as it seemed to him, while he readjusted the packet of papers from which he had just taken the notice; 'I saw it, Sir, your brother lawyer, Mr. O'Reegan, Sir, showed it me this morning.'

And Toole thought of poor little Sally Nutter, and all the wreck and ruin coming upon her and the Mills, and began to con over his own liabilities, and to reflect seriously whether, in some of his brisk altercations on her behalf with Dirty Davy and his client, he might not have committed himself rather dangerously; and especially the consequences of his morning's collision with Davy grew in darkness and magnitude very seriously, as he reflected that his entire statement had turned out to be true, and that he and his client were on the winning side.