The Tithe-Proctor: The Works of William Carleton, Volume TwoCarleton, William
General
The Tithe-Proctor: The Works of William Carleton, Volume Two
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“Not the slightest, Cannie; the villain wouldn't have got off so easily,
only that he had the diabolical cunning to lock the gate outside and
conceal the key: so that whilst I was coming round to the place, he
escaped. Did you meet or see nobody yourself?”
The peddler shut his right hand, slapped it quickly into the palm of his
left. “By the Lomenty tarry,” he exclaimed, “I seen the villain! By the
high horicks, I seen the very man, if I have an eye in my head! A big,
able-bodied villain, wid a pair of thumpin' black whiskers that you
might steal my own out of--and I don't think I can complain myself. He
was comin' up the road from the Carr, and he was turnin' over towards
the bridge there below, so that I only got a short glimpse of him; and
faix, sure enough, as he passed the bridge, I seen him throw something
over the wall of it into the river, which I'd lay my head against the
three kingdoms was the kay o' the gate.”
The proctor paused a little, and then observed, “Ay, faith! I'm sure
you're right, Cannie; I've heard of that villain, and know him from your
description. He is the cowardly ruffian who's said to be at the head or
bottom of these secret combinations that are disgracing and destroying
the country. Yes, I've heard of him.”
“And what did you hear, Misther Purcel?” asked the pedlar, with
undisguised curiosity--.
“No matter now, Cannie; I haven't time to bestow upon the murdering
ruffian: I have my eye on him, however, and so have others. Indeed, I'm
rather inclined to think the hemp has already grown that will hang him.
What dress had he on?”
“Why, sir, he had on a whitish frieze coat, wid big brown buttons; but
there could be no mistakin' the size of his murderin' red whiskers.”
“Red whiskers!--why, you said a moment ago that they were black.”
“Black! hut tut, no, Misther Purcel, I couldn't say that; devil such a
pair of red thumpers ever I seen, barin' upon Rousin' Redhead that was
sent across--for--for--buildin' churches--ha! ha! ha!”
“Why, I'd take my oath you said black,” rejoined the proctor--“that is,
if I have ears to my head.”
“Troth, an' you have Misther Purcel, as brave a pair as a man could
boast of; but the truth is, you wor so much feflustered wid alarm, and
got altogether so much through other, that you didn't know what I said.”
“I did perfectly: you said distinctly that he had black whiskers.”
“Red, by the hokey, over the world; however, to avoid an argument, even
if I did, in mistake, say black, the whiskers were red in the mane time;
an', as I sed, barrin' Rousin' Redhead's, that was thransported, a never
laid my eyes on so red, nor so big I pair.”
“He can't be the fellow I suspect, then--for his, by all accounts, are
unusually large and black.”
“As to that, I can't say, sir: but you wouldn't have me give a wrong
description of any villain that 'ud make an attempt upon your life. Are
you sure, though, it wasn't his reverend honor that the pistol was aimed
at?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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