"Gentlemen!" said Murphy, shutting the door, "you must not quit the house. I must have an inquest on the body." "An inquest!" they all exclaimed. "Yes--an inquest." "But there's no coroner here," said Reddy. "No matter for that," said Murphy. "I, as the under-sheriff of the county, can preside at this inquiry. Gentlemen, take your places; bring in more lights, Mrs. Fay. Stand round the bed, gentlemen." "Not too close," said the doctor. "Mrs. Fay, bring more vinegar." Mrs. Fay had additional candles and more vinegar introduced, and the drunken fellows were standing as straight as they could, each with a candle in his hand, round the still prostrate M'Garry. Murphy then opened on them with a speech, and called in every one in the house to ask did they know anything about the matter; and it was not long before it was spread all over the town, that Squire O'Grady had killed M'Garry, and that the coroner's inquest brought in a verdict of murder, and that the squire was going to be sent to jail. This almost incredible humbug of Murphy's had gone on for nearly half an hour, when the cold arising from his want of clothes, and the riot about him, and the fumes of the vinegar, roused M'Garry, who turned on the bed and opened his eyes. There he saw a parcel of people standing round him, with candles in their hands, and countenances of drunken wonder and horror. He uttered a hollow groan, and cried-- "Save us and keep us! where am I?" "Retire, gentlemen," said the doctor, waving his hand authoritatively; "retire--all but the under-sheriff." Murphy cleared the room, and shut the door, while M'Garry still kept exclaiming, "Save us and keep us! where am I? What's this? O Lord!" "You're dead!" said Murphy; "and the coroner's inquest has just sat on you!" [Illustration: An Irish Inquest] "Dead!" cried M'Garry, with a horrified stare. "Dead!" repeated the doctor, solemnly. "Are _you_ not Doctor Growling?" "You see the effect, Mr. Murphy," said the doctor, not noticing M'Garry's question--"you see the effect of the process." "Wonderful!" said Murphy. "Preserve us!" cried the bewildered apothecary. "How could I know you if I was dead, doctor? Oh, doctor dear, sure I'm not dead?" "As a herring," said the doctor. "Lord have mercy on me! Oh, Mr. Murphy, sure I'm not dead?" "You're dead, sir," said Murphy; "the doctor has only galvanised you for a few moments." "O Lord!" groaned M'Garry. "Doctor--indeed, doctor?" "You are in a state of temporary animation," said the doctor. "I do feel very odd, indeed," said the terrified man, putting his hands to his throbbing temples. "How long am I dead?" "A week next Tuesday," said the doctor. "Galvanism has preserved you from decomposition." M'Garry uttered a heavy groan, and looked up piteously at his two tormentors. Murphy, fearful the shock might drive him out of his mind, said, "Perhaps, doctor, you can preserve his life altogether: you have kept him alive so long?"