The Black Baronet; or, The Chronicles Of Ballytrain: The Works of William Carleton, Volume OneCarleton, William
General
The Black Baronet; or, The Chronicles Of Ballytrain: The Works of William Carleton, Volume One
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“Your letter, Sir Thomas, has given me great comfort, and has made me
rejoice, although it is with groans a' do it, at the whole transaction.
If you succeed in getting me the magistracy, Sir Thomas, it will be the
most blessed and delightful basting that ever a lucky man got. If a'
succeed in being turned into a bony fidy live magistrate, to be called
'your worship,' and am to have the right of fining and flogging and
committing the people, as a' wish and hope to do, then all say that the
hand of Providence was in it, as well as your foot, Sir Thomas. Now,
that you have explained the circumstance, a' feel very much honored by
the drubbing a' got, Sir Thomas; and, indeed, a' don't doubt, after
all, but it was meant in kindness, as you say, Sir Thomas; and a'm sure
besides, Sir Thomas, that it's not every one you'd condescend to drub,
and that the man you would drub, Sir Thomas, must be a person of some
consequence. A' will send you up my claims as a magistrate some of these
days--that is, as soon as a' can get some long-headed fellow to make
them out for me.
“And have the honor to be, my dear Sir Thomas, your much obliged and
favored humble servant.
“Periwinkle Crackenfudge.
“Sir Thomas Gourlay, Bart.”
CHAPTER XXIV.--An Irish Watchhouse in the time of the “Charlies.”
Another subject which vexed the baronet not a little was the loss of his
money and pistols by the robbery; but what he still felt more bitterly,
was the failure of the authorities to trace or arrest the robber.
The vengeance which he felt against that individual lay like a black
venomous snake coiled round his heart. The loss of the money and the
fire-arms he might overlook, but the man, who, in a few moments, taught
him to know himself as he was--who dangled him, as it were, over the
very precipice of hell--with all his iniquities upon his head, the man
who made him feel the crimes of a whole life condensed into one fearful
moment, and showed them to him darkened into horror by the black
lightning of perdition; such a man, we say, he could never forgive. It
was in vain that large rewards were subscribed and offered, it was in
vain that every effort was made to discover the culprit. Not only was
there no trace of him got, but other robberies had been committed by a
celebrated highwayman of the day, named Finnerty, whom neither bribe nor
law could reach.
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