Murphy twisted a beneficial result to M'Garry out of the night's riotous frolic at his expense; for, in the morning, taking advantage of the report of the inquest which he knew must have reached Neck-or-Nothing Hall, he made a communication to O'Grady, so equivocally worded that the Squire fell into the trap. The note ran as follows:-- "Sir,--You must be aware that your act of yesterday has raised a strong feeling in the country against you, and that so flagrant a violation of the laws cannot fail to be visited with terrible severity upon you: for, though your position in rank places you far above the condition of the unfortunate man on whom you wreaked your vengeance, you know, sir, that in the eye of the law you are equal, and the shield of justice protects the peasant as well as the prince. Under these circumstances, sir, considering the _awful consequences_ of your ungoverned rage (which, I doubt not, now, you deplore), I would suggest to you by a timely offer of compromise, in the shape of a handsome sum of money--say two hundred pounds--to lull the storms which must otherwise burst on your devoted head, and save your name from dishonour. I anxiously await your answer, as proceedings must instantly commence, and the law take its course, unless Mrs. M'Garry can be pacified. "I have the honour to be, Sir, "Your most obedient Servant, "Murtough Murphy. "_To Gustavus Granby O'Grady, Esq., Neck-or-Nothing Hall._" O'Grady was thoroughly frightened; and strange as it may appear, did believe he could compromise for killing only a plebeian; and actually sent Murphy his note of hand for the sum demanded. Murtough posted off to M'Garry: he and his wife received him with shouts of indignation, and heaped reproaches on his head, for the trick he had played on the apothecary. "Oh! Misther Murphy--never look me in the face again!" said Mrs. M'Garry, who was ugly enough to make the request quite unnecessary; "to send my husband home to me a beast!" "Striped like a tiger!" said M'Garry. "Blacking and pickled cabbage, Misther Murphy!" said the wife. "Oh fie, sir!--I did not think you could be so low." "Galvanism!" said M'Garry, furiously. "My professional honour wounded!" "Whisht, whisht, man!" said Murphy; "there's a finer plaister than any in your shop for the cure of wounded honour. Look at that!"--and he handed him the note for two hundred: "there's galvanism for you!" "What _is_ this?" said M'Garry, in amazement. "The result of last night's inquest," said Murphy. "You have got your damages without a trial; so pocket your money, and be thankful."