XX. VERY LIBERAL

When the widow left the parlour, after having placed her guest in the charge of her daughters, she summoned her son to follow her down stairs, and was very careful not to leave behind her the notice which Daly had placed on the table. As soon as she found herself behind the shutter of her little desk, which stood in the shop-window, she commenced very eagerly spelling it over. The purport of the notice was, to inform her that Barry Lynch intended immediately to apply to the magistrates to commit her and her son, for conspiring together to inveigle Anty into a marriage; and that the fact of their having done so would be proved by Mr Moylan, who was prepared to swear that he had been present when the plan had been arranged between them. The reader is aware that whatever show of truth there might be for this accusation, as far as Martin and Moylan himself were concerned, the widow at any rate was innocent; and he can conceive the good lady's indignation at the idea of her own connection, Moylan, having been seduced over to the enemy. Though she had put on a bold front against Daly, and though she did not quite believe that Barry was in earnest in taking proceedings against her, still her heart failed her as she read the legal technicalities of the papers she held in her hand, and turned to her son for counsel in considerable tribulation.

"But there must be something in it, I tell you," said she. "Though Barry Lynch, and that limb o' the divil, young Daly, 'd stick at nothin in the way of lies and desait, they'd niver go to say all this about Moylan, unless he'd agree to do their bidding."

"That's like enough, mother: I dare say Moylan has been talked over--bought over rather; for he's not one of them as'd do mischief for nothin."

"And does the ould robber mane to say that I--. As I live, I niver as much as mentioned Anty's name to Moylan, except jist about the agency!"

"I'm shure you didn't, mother."

"And what is it then he has to say agin us?"

"Jist lies; that's av' he were called on to say anything; but he niver will be. This is all one of Barry's schames to frighten you, and get Anty turned out of the inn."

"Thin Master Barry doesn't know the widdy Kelly, I can tell him that; for when I puts my hand to a thing, I mane to pull through wid it. But tell me--all this'll be costing money, won't, it? Attorneys don't bring thim sort of things about for nothing," and she gave a most contemptuous twist to the notice.

"Oh, Barry must pay for that."

"I doubt that, Martin: he's not fond of paying, the mane, dirthy blackguard. I tell you what, you shouldn't iver have let Daly inside the house: he'll make us pay for the writing o' thim as shure as my name's Mary Kelly: av' he hadn't got into the house, he couldn't've done a halfporth."

"I tell you, mother, it wouldn't have done not to let him see Anty.

They'd have said we'd got her shut up here, and wouldn't let any one come nigh her."

"Well, Martin, you'll see we'll have to pay for it. This comes of meddling with other folks! I wonder how I was iver fool enough to have fitched her down here!--Good couldn't come of daling with such people as Barry Lynch."

"But you wouldn't have left her up there to be murdhered?"

"She's nothin' to me, and I don't know as she's iver like to be."

"May-be not."

"But, tell me, Martin--was there anything said between you and Moylan about Anty before she come down here?"

"How, anything said, mother?"

"Why, was there any schaming betwixt you?"

"Schaming?--when I want to schame, I'll not go shares with sich a fellow as Moylan."

"Ah, but was there anything pa.s.sed about Anty and you getting married?

Come now, Martin; I'm in all this throuble along of you, and you shouldn't lave me in the dark. Was you talking to Moylan about Anty and her fortune?"

"Why, thin, I'll jist tell you the whole thruth, as I tould it all before to Mister Frank--that is, Lord Ballindine, up in Dublin; and as I wouldn't mind telling it this minute to Barry, or Daly, or any one else in the three counties. When Moylan got the agency, he come out to me at Toneroe; and afther talking a bit about Anty and her fortune, he let on as how it would be a bright spec for me to marry her, and I won't deny that it was he as first put it into my head. Well, thin, he had schames of his own about keeping the agency, and getting a nice thing out of the property himself, for putting Anty in my way; but I tould him downright I didn't know anything about that; and that 'av iver I did anything in the matter it would be all fair and above board; and that was all the conspiracy I and Moylan had."

"And enough too, Martin," said the widow. "You'll find it's quite enough to get us into throuble. And why wouldn't you tell me what was going on between you?"

"There was nothing going on between us."

"I say there was;--and to go and invaigle me into your schames without knowing a word about it!--It was a murdhering shame of you--and av' I do have to pay for it, I'll never forgive you."

"That's right, mother; quarrel with me about it, do. It was I made you bring Anty down here, wasn't it? when I was up in Dublin all the time."

"But to go and put yourself in the power of sich a fellow as Moylan! I didn't think you were so soft."

"Ah, bother, mother! Who's put themselves in the power of Moylan?"

"I'll moyle him, and spoil him too, the false blackguard, to turn agin the family--them as has made him! I wondher what he's to get for swearing agin us?"--And then, after a pause, she added in a most pathetic voice "oh, Martin, to think of being dragged away to Galway, before the whole counthry, to be made a conspirather of! I, that always paid my way, before and behind, though only a poor widdy! Who's to mind the shop, I wondher?--I'm shure Meg's not able; and there'll be Mary'll be jist nigh her time, and won't be able to come! Martin, you've been and ruined me with your plots and your marriages! What did you want with a wife, I wondher, and you so well off!"--and Mrs Kelly began wiping her eyes, for she was affected to tears at the prospect of her coming misery.

"Av' you take it so to heart, mother, you'd betther give Anty a hint to be out of this. You heard Daly tell her, that was all Barry wanted."

Martin knew his mother tolerably well, or he would not have made this proposition. He understood what the real extent of her sorrow was, and how much of her lamentation he was to attribute to her laudable wish to appear a martyr to the wishes and pleasures of her children.

"Turn her out!" replied she, "no, niver; and I didn't think I'd 've heard you asking me to."

"I didn't ask you, mother,--only anything'd be betther than downright ruin."

"I wouldn't demane myself to Barry so much as to wish her out of this now she's here. But it was along of you she came here, and av' I've to pay for all this lawyer work, you oughtn't to see me at a loss. I'm shure I don't know where your sisthers is to look for a pound or two when I'm gone, av' things goes on this way," and again the widow whimpered.

"Don't let that throuble you, mother: av' there's anything to pay, I won't let it come upon you, any way. But I tell you there'll be nothing more about it."

Mrs Kelly was somewhat quieted by her son's guarantee, and, muttering that she couldn't afford to be wasting her mornings in that way, diligently commenced weighing out innumerable three-halfporths of brown sugar, and Martin went about his own business.

Daly left the inn, after his interview with Anty and the Kellys, in anything but a pleasant frame of mind. In the first place, he knew that he had been signally unsuccessful, and that his want of success had been mainly attributable to his having failed to see Anty alone; and, in the next place, he felt more than ever disgusted with his client.

He began to reflect, for the first time, that he might, and probably would, irretrievably injure his character by undertaking, as Martin truly called it, such a very low line of business: that, if the matter were persevered in, every one in Connaught would be sure to hear of Anty's persecution; and that his own name would be so mixed up with Lynch's in the transaction as to leave him no means of escaping the ignominy which was so justly due to his employer. Beyond these selfish motives of wishing to withdraw from the business, he really pitied Anty, and felt a great repugnance at being the means of adding to her troubles; and he was aware of the scandalous shame of subjecting her again to the ill-treatment of such a wretch as her brother, by threatening proceedings which he knew could never be taken.

As he got on the car to return to Tuam, he determined that whatever plan he might settle on adopting, he would have nothing further to do with prosecuting or persecuting either Anty or the Kellys. "I'll give him the best advice I can about it," said Daly to himself; "and if he don't like it he may do the other thing. I wouldn't carry on with this game for all he's worth, and that I believe is not much." He had intended to go direct to Dunmore House from the Kellys, and to have seen Barry, but he would have had to stop for dinner if he had done so; and though, generally speaking, not very squeamish in his society, he did not wish to enjoy another after-dinner _tete-a-tete_ with him--"It's better to get him over to Tuam," thought he, "and try and make him see rason when he's sober: nothing's too hot or too bad for him, when he's mad dhrunk afther dinner."

Accordingly, Lynch was again summoned to Tuam, and held a second council in the attorney's little parlour. Daly commenced by telling him that his sister had seen him, and had positively refused to leave the inn, and that the widow and her son had both listened to the threats of a prosecution unmoved and undismayed. Barry indulged in his usual volubility of expletives; expressed his fixed intention of exterminating the Kellys; declared, with many a.s.severations, his conviction that his sister was a lunatic; swore, by everything under, in, and above the earth, that he would have her shut up in the Lunatic Asylum in Ballinasloe, in the teeth of the Lord Chancellor and all the other lawyers in Ireland; cursed the shades of his father, deeply and copiously; a.s.sured Daly that he was only prevented from recovering his own property by the weakness and ignorance of his legal advisers, and ended by asking the attorney's advice as to his future conduct.

"What the d----l, then, am I to do with the confounded ideot?" said he.

"If you'll take my advice, you'll do nothing."

"What, and let her marry and have that young blackguard brought up to Dunmore under my very nose?"

"I'm very much afraid, Mr Lynch, if you wish to be quit of Martin Kelly, it is you must lave Dunmore. You may be shure he won't."

"Oh, as for that, I've nothing to tie me to Dunmore. I hate the place; I never meant to live there. If I only saw my sister properly taken care of, and that it was put out of her power to throw herself away, I should leave it at once."

"Between you and me, Mr Lynch, she will be taken care of; and as for throwing herself away, she must judge of that herself. Take my word for it, the best thing for you to do is to come to terms with Martin Kelly, and to sell out your property in Dunmore. You'll make much better terms before marriage than you would afther, it stands to rason."

Barry was half standing, and half sitting on the small parlour table, and there he remained for a few minutes, meditating on Daly's most unpleasant proposal. It was a hard pill for him to swallow, and he couldn't get it down without some convulsive grimaces. He bit his under lip, till the blood came through it, and at last said,

"Why, you've taken this thing up, Daly, as if you were to be paid by the Kellys instead of by me! I can't understand it, confound me if I can!"