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
“When did you see him, Hourigan?” asked Fergus; “was it on your way
here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In the avenue?”
“In the avenue, sir, about fifty yards inside the hedge, jist opposite
the hollies.”
“Why did you not speak to him?”
“Troth, sir, he had too suspicious a look; for how did I know but it's a
bullet I'd get into, me, if I was only seen obsarvin' or watchin' him?”
“Then you did not speak to him?” asked Fergus.
“Faith, you may swear that, sir; that is not the time to pick up strange
acquaintances.”
The two young friends were now satisfied of Hourigan's falsehood, and
perhaps of his treachery; and a very slight but significant glance to
that effect passed between them.
“Well, well,” said the magistrate, “we--I mane myself, at any rate--are
well able to protect ourselves. I shall not in future travel unarmed,
and he that--hem--ahem--he that will mistake me for a timid man will
find out his error maybe when it's too late. Come, Hourigan, what charge
is this you have against Mr. Purcel?”
“Plaise your honor, he abused, and assaulted, and bate me until I didn't
know for a time whether I was alive or dead.”
“How was that, Hourigan, sir?”
“Bekaise, your honor, I had not my tides for him.”
“Now that I look at you, you certainly have the marks of violence about
you. Well, but did you give no provocation, sir? It's not likely
Mr. Purcel would raise his hand to you if he had not resaved strong
provocation at yours.”
“Sorra word, then, your honor, ever I said to him,--barrin' to tell him
that I hoped he'd have compassion on me and my little family, and not
drive us to ruin for what I wasn't able to pay. He then asked me, was
that the answer I had for him, and not his money, and he does no more
but ups wid his whip and laves me as you see me.”
“Why, now, you d--d scoundrel!” exclaimed John, “how can you--”
“Pardon me, Mr. Purcel,” said the magistrate, interrupting him with what
he intended to be dignity, “you forget what is due to the court, sir.
There must be no swearing nor abuse here. The court must be respected,
Mr. Purcel.”
These words brought a sneer of secret triumph upon Hourigan's features,
that was unquestionably very provoking.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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