Willy Reilly: The Works of William Carleton, Volume One — John Shaqi
Willy Reilly: The Works of William Carleton, Volume OneCarleton, William
General
Willy Reilly: The Works of William Carleton, Volume One
Carleton, William
Ireland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
“I hope in the Almighty,” said Andrew to himself in an anxious and
apprehensive tone of voice, “that it's not Parrah Ruah (Red Patrick),
the red Rapparee, that's in it, and I'm afeered it is, for I think I
know his whistle. There's not a man in the three baronies could give
such a whistle as that, barring himself. If it is, the masther's a gone
man, and I'll not be left behind to tell the story, God protect us!
“What are you saying, Andy?” asked his master: “What were you muttering
just now?”
“Nothing, sir, nothing; but there can be no harm, at all events, to look
to our pistols. If there should be danger, let us sell our lives like
men.”
“And so we will, Andy. The country I know is in a disturbed and lawless
state, and ever since that unfortunate affair of the priest, I know I am
not popular with a great many. I hope we won't come across his Rapparee
nephew.”
“Whether we do or not, sir, let us look to our firearms. Show me yours
till I settle the powdher in them. Why, God bless me, how you are
tremblin'.”
“It is not from fear, sir,” replied the intrepid old man, “but from
cold. If any thing should happen me, Andy, let my daughter know that my
will is in the oaken cabinet; that is to say, the last I made. She is
my heiress--but that she is by the laws of the land. However, as I had
disposed of some personal property to other persons, which disposition
I have revoked in the will I speak of--my last, as I said--I wish you to
let her know where she may find it. Her mother's jewels are also in
the same place--but they, too, are hers by right of law--her mother
bequeathed them to her.”
“All! sir, you are right to remember and think well of that daughter.
She has been a guardian angel to you these five years. But why, sir, do
you give me this message? Do you think I won't sell my life in defence
of yours? If you do you're mistaken.”
“I believe it, Andrew; I believe it, Andy,” said he again, familiarizing
the word; “but if this red Rapparee should murder me, I don't, wish you
to sacrifice your life on my account. Make your escape if he should be
the person who is approaching us, and convey to my daughter the message
I have given you.”
At this moment another whistle proceeded from a quarter of the moor much
nearer them, and Andy, having handed back the pistols to his master,
asked him should he return it.
“Certainly,” replied the other, who during all this time was pacing to
and fro, in order to keep himself from sinking; “certainly, let us see
whether these persons are friends or enemies.”
His servant then replied to the whistle, and in a few minutes it was
answered again, whilst at the same time a strong but bitter wind
arose which cleared away the mist, and showed them with considerable
distinctness the position which they occupied.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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