"Ah, mother! you're a fool," exclaimed Martin: "why can't you let the man go on?--ain't he paid for saying it? Well, Mr Daly, begorra I pity you, to have such things on your tongue; but go on, go on, and finish it."

"Your brother conceives this to be his duty," continued Daly, rather bothered by the manner in which he had to make his communication, "and it is a duty which he is determined to go through with."

"Duty!" said the widow, with a twist of her nose, and giving almost a whistle through her lips, in a manner which very plainly declared the contempt she felt for Barry's ideas of duty.

"With this object," continued Daly, "I have already handed to Martin Kelly a notice of what your brother means to do; and I have another notice prepared in my pocket for his mother. The next step will be to swear the informations before a magistrate, and get the committals made out; Mrs Kelly and her son will then have to give bail for their appearance at the a.s.sizes."

"And so we can," said the widow; "betther bail than e'er a Lynch or Daly--not but what the Dalys is respictable--betther bail, any way, than e'er a Lynch in Galway could show, either for sessions or 'sizes, by night or by day, winter or summer."

"Ah, mother! you don't understhand: he's maning that we're to be tried in the dock, for staling Anty's money."

"Faix, but that'd be a good joke! Isn't Anty to the fore herself to say who's robbed her? Take an ould woman's advice, Mr Daly, and go back to Tuam: it ain't so asy to put salt on the tail of a Dunmore bird."

"And so I will, Mrs Kelly," said Daly; "but you must let me finish what I have to tell Miss Lynch.--This will be a proceeding most disagreeable to your brother's feelings."

"Failings, indeed!" muttered the widow; "faix, I b'lieve his chief failing at present's for sthrong dhrink!"

"--But he must go on with it, unless you at once lave the inn, return to your own home, and give him your promise that you will never marry Martin Kelly."

Anty blushed deep crimson over her whole face at the mention of her contemplated marriage; and, to tell the truth, so did Martin.

"Here is the notice," said Daly, taking the paper out of his pocket; "and the matter now rests with yourself. If you'll only tell me that you'll be guided by your brother on this subject, I'll burn the notice at once; and I'll undertake to say that, as far as your property is concerned, your brother will not in the least interfere with you in the management of it."

"And good rason why, Mr Daly," said the widow--"jist becase he can't."

"Well, Miss Lynch, am I to tell your brother that you are willing to oblige him in this matter?"

Whatever effect Daly's threats may have had on the widow and her son, they told strongly upon Anty; for she sat now the picture of misery and indecision. At last she said: "Oh, Lord defend me! what am I to do, Mrs Kelly?"

"Do?" said Martin; "why, what should you do--but just wish Mr Daly good morning, and stay where you are, snug and comfortable?"

"Av' you war to lave this, Anty, and go up to Dunmore House afther all that's been said and done, I'd say Barry was right, and that Ballinasloe Asylum was the fitting place for you," said the widow.

"The blessed virgin guide and prothect me," said Anty, "for I want her guidance this minute. Oh, that the walls of a convent was round me this minute--I wouldn't know what throuble was!"

"And you needn't know anything about throuble," said Martin, who didn't quite like his mistress's allusion to a convent. "You don't suppose there's a word of thruth in all this long story of Mr Daly's?--He knows,--and I'll say it out to his face--he knows Barry don't dare carry on with sich a schame. He knows he's only come here to frighten you out of this, that Barry may have his will on you again."

"And G.o.d forgive him his errand here this day," said the widow, "for it was a very bad one."

"If you will allow me to offer you my advice, Miss Lynch," said Daly, "you will put yourself, at any rate for a time, under your brother's protection."

"She won't do no sich thing," said the widow. "What! to be locked into the parlour agin--and be nigh murdhered? holy father!"

"Oh, no," said Anty, at last, shuddering in horror at the remembrance of the last night she pa.s.sed in Dunmore House, "I cannot go back to live with him, but I'll do anything else, av' he'll only lave me, and my kind, kind friends, in pace and quiet."

"Indeed, and you won't, Anty," said the widow; "you'll do nothing for him. Your frinds--that's av' you mane the Kellys--is very able to take care of themselves."

"If your brother, Miss Lynch, will lave Dunmore House altogether, and let you have it to yourself, will you go and live there, and give him the promise not to marry Martin Kelly?"

"Indeed an' she won't," said the widow. "She'll give no promise of the kind. Promise, indeed! what for should she promise Barry Lynch whom she will marry, or whom she won't?"

"Raily, Mrs Kelly, I think you might let Miss Lynch answer for herself."

"I wouldn't, for all the world thin, go to live at Dunmore House," said Anty.

"And you are determined to stay in this inn here?"

"In course she is--that's till she's a snug house of her own," said the widow.

"Ah, mother!" said Martin, "what for will you be talking?"

"And you're determined," repeated Daly, "to stay here?"

"I am," faltered Anty.

"Then I have nothing further to do than to hand you this, Mrs Kelly"--and he offered the notice to the widow, but she refused to touch it, and he consequently put it down on the table. "But it is my duty to tell you, Miss Lynch, that the gentry of this counthry, before whom you will have to appear, will express very great indignation at your conduct in persevering in placing poor people like the Kellys in so dreadful a predicament, by your wilful and disgraceful obstinacy."

Poor Anty burst into tears. She had been for some time past trying to restrain herself, but Daly's last speech, and the horrible idea of the gentry of the country browbeating and frowning at her, completely upset her, and she hid her face on the arm of the sofa, and sobbed aloud.

"Poor people like the Kellys!" shouted the widow, now for the first time really angry with Daly--"not so poor, Mr Daly, as to do dirthy work for anyone. I wish I could say as much this day for your mother's son! Poor people, indeed! I suppose, now, you wouldn't call Barry Lynch one of your poor people; but in my mind he's the poorest crature living this day in county Galway. Av' you've done now, Mr Daly, you've my lave to be walking; and the less you let the poor Kellys see of you, from this time out, the betther."

When Anty's sobs commenced, Martin had gone over to her to comfort her, "Ah, Anty, dear," he whispered to her, "shure you'd not be minding what such a fellow as he'd be saying to you?--shure he's jist paid for all this--he's only sent here by Barry to thry and frighten you,"--but it was of no avail: Daly had succeeded at any rate in making her miserable, and it was past the power of Martin's eloquence to undo what the attorney had done.

"Well, Mr Daly," he said, turning round sharply, "I suppose you have done here now, and the sooner you turn your back on this place the betther--An' you may take this along with you. Av' you think you've frightened my mother or me, you're very much mistaken."

"Yes," said Daly, "I have done now, and I am sorry my business has been so unpleasant. Your mother, Martin, had betther not disregard that notice. Good morning, Miss Lynch: good morning, Mrs Kelly; good morning, Martin;" and Daly took up his hat, and left the room.

"Good morning to you, Mr Daly," said Martin: "as I've said before, I'm sorry to see you've taken to this line of business."

As soon as the attorney was gone, both Martin and his mother attempted to console and re-a.s.sure poor Anty, but they did not find the task an easy one. "Oh, Mrs Kelly," she said, as soon as she was able to say anything, "I'm sorry I iver come here, I am: I'm sorry I iver set my foot in the house!"

"Don't say so, Anty, dear," said the widow. "What'd you be sorry for--an't it the best place for you?"

"Oh! but to think that I'd bring all these throubles on you! Betther be up there, and bear it all, than bring you and yours into law, and sorrow, and expense. Only I couldn't find the words in my throat to say it, I'd 've tould the man that I'd 've gone back at once. I wish I had--indeed, Mrs Kelly, I wish I had."

"Why, Anty," said Martin, "you an't fool enough to believe what Daly's been saying? Shure all he's afther is to frighthen you out of this.

Never fear: Barry can't hurt us a halfporth, though no doubt he's willing enough, av' he had the way."

"I wish I was in a convent, this moment," said Anty. "Oh! I wish I'd done as father asked me long since. Av' the walls of a convent was around me, I'd niver know what throubles was."

"No more you shan't now," said Martin: "Who's to hurt you? Come, Anty, look up; there's nothing in all this to vex you."

But neither son nor mother were able to soothe the poor young woman.

The very presence of an attorney was awful to her; and all the jargon which Daly had used, of juries, judges, trials, and notices, had sounded terribly in her ears. The very names of such things were to her terrible realities, and she couldn't bring herself to believe that her brother would threaten to make use of such horrible engines of persecution, without having the power to bring them into action. Then, visions of the lunatic asylum, into which he had declared that he would throw her, flitted across her, and made her whole body shiver and shake; and again she remembered the horrid glare of his eye, the hot breath, and the frightful form of his visage, on the night when he almost told her that he would murder her.

Poor Anty had at no time high or enduring spirits, but such as she had were now completely quelled. A dreadful feeling of coming evil--a foreboding of misery, such as will sometimes overwhelm stronger minds than Anty's, seemed to stifle her; and she continued sobbing till she fell into hysterics, when Meg and Jane were summoned to her a.s.sistance.

They sat with her for above an hour, doing all that kindness and affection could suggest; but after a time Anty told them that she had a cold, sick feeling within herself, that she felt weak and ill, and that she'd sooner go to bed. To bed they accordingly took her; and Sally brought her tea, and Katty lighted a fire in her room, and Jane read to her an edifying article from the lives of the Saints, and Meg argued with her as to the folly of being frightened. But it was all of no avail; before night, Anty was really ill.

The next morning, the widow was obliged to own to herself that such was the case. In the afternoon, Doctor Colligan was called in; and it was many, many weeks before Anty recovered from the effects of the attorney's visit.