Adventure stories; England -- Social life and customs -- 18th century -- Fiction; Irish -- England -- Fiction
"Do you mean to tell me you propose to take possession of another
man's house and fight him if he comes to claim his own?"
"I intend that same thing, your Reverence;" for now I was as stubborn
as the old gentleman himself, and it was not likely I was going to be
put off my course when I remembered the happiness that was ahead of
me; but there's little use in trying to explain to an aged priest what
a young man is willing to do for the love of the sweetest girl in all
the land.
"O'Ruddy," he said, "you'll be put in prison. It's the inside of a
gaol, and not the inside of a castle, you'll see. It's not down the
aisle of a church you'll march with your bride on your arm, but its
hobbling over the cobbles of a Newgate passage you'll go with manacles
on your legs. Take warning from me, my poor boy, who would be
heart-broken to see harm come to you, and don't run your neck into the
hangman's noose, thinking it the matrimonial halter. Turn back while
there's yet time, O'Ruddy."
"Believe me, Father Donovan, it grieves me to refuse you anything, but
I cannot turn back."
"You'll be breaking the law of the land."
"But the law of the land is broken every day in our district of
Ireland, and not too many words said about it."
"Oh, O'Ruddy, that's a different thing. The law of the land in Ireland
is the law of the alien."
"Father, you're not logical. It's the alien I'm going to fight
here,"--but before the father could reply we saw ahead of us the bulky
form of Tom Peel, and ranged alongside of the road, trying to look
very stiff and military-like, was the most awkward squad of men I had
ever clapped eyes on; but determined fellows they were, as I could see
at a glance when I came fornenst them, and each man pulled a lock of
his hair by way of a salute.
"Do you men understand the use of a sword and a pistol?" said I.
The men smiled at each other as though I was trying some kind of a
joke on them.
"They do, your honour," answered Tom Peel on their behalf. "Each one
of them can sling a cutlass to the king's taste, and fire a pistol
without winking, and there are now concealed in the hedge half a dozen
blunderbusses in case they should be needed. They make a loud report
and have a good effect on the enemy, even when they do no harm."
"Yes, we'll have the blunderbusses," said I, and with that the men
broke rank, burst through the hedge, and came back with those
formidable weapons. "I have ammunition in the carts," I said, "did you
see anything of them?"
"The carts have gone on to the west, your honour; but we'll soon
overtake them," and the men smacked their lips when they thought of
the one that had the barrels in it. Now Paddy came forward with the
pistols, and Bottles followed and gave each man a blade, while I gave
each his money.
"O dear! O dear!" groaned Father Donovan.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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