Mogue looked at the doc.u.ment, and placing it securely in his pocket, asked, "Is it a notice?"

The other nodded in the affirmative, and added, with a knowing wink, "There's a coffin and a cross-bones in it, and the name is signed wid real blood, Mogue; and that's the way to go about breakin' the Millstone, my man."

"That I may never do an ill turn, but it is. Well, G.o.d bless you, Misther Magrath, an' whisper now, don't forget an odd patther-anavy goin' to bed, in hopes that G.o.d will prosper our honest endayvours. That was a hard thing upon young Devlin in Murray's murdher. I'm not sure whether you do, but I know that that act was put upon him through ill-will; and now he'll hang for it. But sure it's one comfort that he'll die a martyr, glory be to G.o.d!"

The pedlar, having a.s.sented to this, got on his pack, and leaving Mogue to meditate on the new discovery which he had made respecting Julia Purcel, he proceeded on towards the highway to which we have alluded.

Purcel himself, in the course of a few miles' drive, reached the parsonage, in which the Rev. Jeremiah Turbot ought to have lived, but in which, for several years past, he had not resided; if we except about a fortnight twice a year, when he came to sweep off as weighty a load of t.i.thes as he could contrive to squeeze out of the people through worthy Mat Purcel, his proctor.

For a year or two previous to this visit, there is no doubt but the aspect of ecclesiastical affairs was gradually getting worse. Turbot began to feel that there was something wrong, although he could not exactly say what it was. Purcel, however, was by no means reluctant to disclose to him the exceedingly desperate state to which not only had matters been driving, but at which they had actually arrived. This, in truth, was our worthy proctor's version of ecclesiastical affairs, for at least two years before the present period of our narrative. But, like every man who tampers with, simple truth, he began to perceive, almost when it was too late, that his policy in antedating the t.i.the difficulties was likely very soon to embarra.s.s himself; and to deprive the outrages resulting from the frightful opposition that was organized against t.i.thes of all claim to novelty. He had, in fact, so strongly exaggerated the state of the country, and surcharged his pictures of anti-t.i.the violence so much beyond all truth and reality, that when the very worst and most daring organization did occur, he could do nothing more than go over the same ground again. The consequence was, that worthy Turbot, so long habituated to these overdrawn narratives, began to look upon them as the friends of the boy who shouted out "wolf!" did upon the veracity of his alarms. He set down his intrepid and courageous proctor as nothing else than a cowardly poltroon, whose terrors exaggerated everything, and whose exaggerated accounts of fraud, threats, and violence had existed princ.i.p.ally in his own imagination.

Such were the circ.u.mstances under which Purcel and Dr. Turbot now met.

The worthy rector of Ballysoho was a middle-sized man, with coal-black hair, brilliant, twinkling eyes of the same color, and as pretty a double chin as ever graced the successor of an apostle. Turbot was by no means an offensive person; on the contrary, he must of necessity have been very free from evil or iniquity of any kind, inasmuch as he never had time to commit sin. He was most enthusiastically addicted to hunting and shooting, and felt such a keen and indomitable relish for the good things of this world, especially for the luxuries of the table, that what between looking after his cuisine, attending his dogs, and enjoying his field sports, he scarcely ever might be said to have a single day that he could call his own. And yet, unreasonable people expected that a man, whose daily occupations were of such importance to--himself, should very coolly forego his own beloved enjoyments in order to attend to the comforts of the poor, with whom he had scarcely anything in common. Many other matters of a similar stamp were expected from him, but only by those who had no opportunity of knowing the multiplicity of his engagements. Such persons were unreasonable enough to think that he ought to have occasionally appropriated some portion of his income to the relief of poverty and dest.i.tution, but as he said himself, he could not afford it. How could any man afford it who in general lived up to, and sometimes beyond, his income, and who was driven to such pinches as not unfrequently to incur the imputation of severity and oppression itself, by the steps he was forced to take or sanction for the recovery of his t.i.thes.

In person he was, as we have said, about or somewhat under the middle size. In his gait he was very ungainly. When walking, he drove forward as if his head was b.u.t.ting or boring its way through a palpable atmosphere, keeping his person, from the waist up, so far in advance that the _a posteriori_ portion seemed as if it had been detached from the other, and was engaged in a ceaseless but ineffectual struggle to regain its position; or, in shorter and more intelligible words, the latter end of him seemed to be perpetually in pursuit of his head and shoulders, without ever being able to overtake them. Whilst engaged in maintaining this compound motion, his elbows and arms swung from right to left, and vice versa, very like the movements of a weaver throwing the shuttle from side to side. Turbot had one acknowledged virtue in a pre-eminent degree, we mean hospitality. It is true he gave admirable dinners, but it would be a fact worth boasting of, to find any man at his table who was not able to give, and who did give, better dinners than himself. The doctor's face, however, in spite of his slinging and ungainly person, was upon the whole rather good. His double chin, and the full, rosy expression of his lips and mouth, betokened, at the very least, the force of luxurious habits, and, as a hedge school-master of our acquaintance used to say, the smallest taste in life of voluptuousity; whilst from his black, twinkling eyes, that seemed always as if they were about to herald a jest, broke forth, especially when he conversed with the softer s.e.x, something which might be considered as holding a position between a laugh and a leer. Such was the Rev.

Jeremiah Turbot, to whom we shall presently take the liberty of introducing the reader.

The parsonage, to which our friend Purcel is now making his approach, was an excellent and comfortable building. It stood on a very pretty eminence, and consequently commanded a beautiful prospect both in front and rear; for the fact was, that in consequence of the beauty of the scenery for miles about it, some inc.u.mbent of good taste had given it a second hall door, thus enabling the inhabitants to partake of a double enjoyment, by an equal facility of contemplating the exquisite scenery of the country both in front and rear. A beautiful garden lay facing the south, and a little below, in the same direction, stood a venerable old rookery, whilst through the rich, undulating fields flowed, in graceful windings, a beautiful river, on whose green and fertile banks sheep and black cattle were always to be seen, sometimes feeding or chewing the cud in that indolent repose which gives to the landscape, in the golden light of a summer's evening, such a poetical and pastoral effect.

Purcel, on coming in sight of the parsonage, instead of keeping his horse to the rapid pace at which he had driven him along until then, now drew him up, and advanced at a rate which seemed to indicate anything but that of a man whose spirits were cheerful or free from care. On reaching the front entrance he discounted very slowly, and with a solemn and melancholy air, walked deliberately, step by step, till he stood at the hall door, where he gave a knock so spiritless, depressed and disconsolate, that it immediately communicated itself, as was intended, to the usually joyful and rosy countenance of the rector, who surveyed, his agent as if he expected to hear that he either had lost, or was about to lose, half his family or the whole of his wealth.

"How do you do, Purcel?--eh, what's this? Is there anything wrong? You look very much dejected--what's the matter? Sit down."

"Thank you, sir; but I really do not think I am well--at least my spirits are a great deal depressed; but indeed, Dr. Turbot, a man must be more or less than a man to be able to keep up his spirits in such times."

"Oh! ho, my worthy proctor, is that all? Thank you for nothing, Purcel.

I understand you; but you ought to know I am not to be caught now by your 'calamities'."

"My calamities! I declare to goodness, Dr. Turbot, I could rest contented if they were n.o.body's calamities but my own; unfortunately, however, you are as deep in them as I am, and in a short time, G.o.d knows, we will be a miserable pair, I fear."

"Not at all, Purcel--this is only the old story. Raw-heads and b.l.o.o.d.y-bones coming to destroy the t.i.thes, and eat up the parsons. Let me see--it is now three years since you commenced these 'lamentations.'"

"Three years ago; why we had peace and quietness then compared to what we have at present," replied Purcel.

"And what have we now, pray?"

"Why, sir, the combinations against t.i.thes is quite general over the whole country."

"Well; so was it then upon your own showing. Go on."

"As I said, sir, it was nothing at that time. There is little now but threatening notices that breathe of blood and murder."

"Very good; so was it then upon your own showing. Go on."

"But of late, sir, lives have been taken. Clergymen have been threatened and fired at."

"Very good; so was it then upon you! own showing. Go on, I say."

"Fired at I say, and shot, sir. The whole White boy system has turned itself into a great t.i.the conspiracy. The farmers, the landholders of all descriptions, the cottiers, the daily laborers, and the very domestic servants, have all joined this conspiracy, and sworn neither to pay t.i.thes themselves nor to allow others to pay them. They compare the established church to a garrison; and although the law prevents them from openly destroying it by force, they swear that they'll starve it out."

"Eh!" said Turbot, starting, "what's that you say? Starve us out! What an infamous and unconst.i.tutional project! What a diabolical procedure!

But I forgot--bravo, Purcel! This was all the case before upon your own showing."

"Well, sir," returned Purcel, "there was at least this difference, that I was able to get something out of them then, but devil a copper can I get out o' them now. I think you'll admit, sir, that this fact gives some weight to my argument."

"You don't mean to say, Purcel," replied the other, from whose chin the rosy tint gradually paled away until it a.s.sumed that peculiar hue which is found inside of a marine sh.e.l.l, that is to say, white with a dream of red barely and questionably visible; "you don't mean to say, my good friend Purcel, that you have no money for me on this occasion?"

"By no means, sir," replied the proctor. "Money I have got for you, no doubt--money I have got certainly."

The double chin once more a.s.sumed its natural hue of celestial rosy red."

"Upon my honor, Purcel," he replied, "I have not temper for this; it seems to me that you take particular delight in wantonly tampering with my feelings. I am really quite tired of it. Why hara.s.s and annoy me with your alarms? Conspiracy, blood, and ma.s.sacre are the feeblest terms in your vocabulary. It is absolutely ridiculous, sir, and I beg you will put an end to it."

"I would be very glad to do so, sir," replied Purcel; "and still more satisfied if I had never had anything to do with the temporalities of your church."

"I don't see why, above all men living, you should say so, Purcel; you have feathered your nest tolerably well by the temporalities of our church."

"If I have, sir," replied the proctor, "it has been at the expense of my popularity and good name. I and my family are looked upon as a part and parcel of your system, and, I may add, as the worst and most odious part of it. I and they are looked upon as the bitterest enemies of the people; and because we endeavor to get out of them the means of enabling you to maintain your rank in the world, we are obliged to hear ourselves branded every day in the week as villains, oppressors, and blood-suckers. This, however, we could bear; but to know that we are marked down for violence, brutality, and, if possible, a.s.sa.s.sination, is a penalty for which nothing in your establishment could compensate us.

I and my sons have received several notices of violence in every shape, and we are obliged to sleep with our house half filled with arms and ammunition, in dread of an attack every night in the year."

"Well, well," replied Turbot, "this, after all, is but the old story; the matter is only an ebullition, and will pa.s.s away. I know you are const.i.tutionally timid. I know you are; and have in fact a great deal of the natural coward in your disposition; and I say natural, because a man is no more to be blamed for being born a coward than he is for being born with a bad complexion or an objectionable set of features. You magnify the dangers about you, and, in fact, become a self-tormentor. As for my part, I am glad you have got money, for I do a.s.sure you, I never stood so much in need of it in my life."

"The very papers, sir," continued Purcel, who could not prevent himself from proceeding, "might enable you to see the state of the country."

"Oh, d--n the papers," said the parson, "I am sick of them. Our side is perpetually exaggerating matters--just as you are; and as for the other side, your papist rags I never, of course, see or wish to see. I want six hundred now, or indeed eight if you can, and I had some notion of taking a day or two's shooting. How is the game on the glebe? Has it been well preserved, do you know?"

"I am not aware," said the proctor, "that any one has shot over the glebe lands this season; but if you take my advice, sir, you will expose yourself as little as you can in the neighborhood. There are not two individuals in the parish so unpopular as Dr. Turbot and your humble servant."

"In that case, then," replied the other, "the less delay I make here the better--you can let me have six hundred, I hope?"

"I certainly told you, sir," replied Purcel, with something of a determined and desperate coolness about him, "that I had money for you, and so I have."

"Thank you, Purcel; I must say you certainly have, on all occasions, exerted yourself faithfully and honestly in support of my interests."

"Money, sir," pursued the other, without appearing to look to the right or to the left, "I have for you. Would you venture to guess to what amount?"

"Well, under the circ.u.mstances you speak of, less, I dare say, than I expect."

"I have been able to get, within the last six months, exactly fifty-nine pounds thirteen and sevenpence!"

If the ebb which we have described before of the blood from the doctor's double chin was a gradual one, we can a.s.sure the reader that, in this case, it was rapid in proportion to the terror and dismay conveyed by this authentic, but astounding piece of intelligence. The whole face became pale, his eyes at once lost their l.u.s.tre, and were, as he fixed them in astonishment upon the proctor, completely without speculation; his voice became tremulous, and, as he pulled out his handkerchief to wipe away the unexpected perspiration which the proctor's words had brought out upon his forehead, his hands trembled as if he had been suddenly seized with palsy. In truth, Purcel, who had a kind of good-natured regard for the little man, felt a sensation of compa.s.sion for him, on witnessing the extraordinary distress under which he labored.

"I am sorry for this," said he, "for I really know not what is to be done, and, what is equally distressing, our prospects are not at all likely to improve."

"You don't mean to say, Purcel, that circ.u.mstances are as bad as you report them--as bad--as desperate, I should say--and as ruinous?"

"I fear," said Purcel, "they go beyond the gloomiest and most desponding views you could take of them. The conspiracy, for such we must term it, is, in point of fact, deepening down to the very foundations, if I may use the expression, of society. Every day it is becoming more dangerous and alarming; but how it is to be checked or mitigated, or how we are to stand out of its way and avoid its consequences, heaven only knows, for I don't."