Anty at first turned very pale when she felt his heavy hand on her arm, and saw his red, glaring eyes so near her own. But when he said she shouldn’t leave the room alive, she jumped from the sofa, and shrieked, at the top of her shrill voice,—“Oh, Barry! you’ll not murdher me! shure you wouldn’t murdher your own sisther!”
Barry was rather frightened at the noise, and, moreover, the word “murder” quelled him. But when he found, after a moment’s pause, that the servants had not heard, or had not heeded his sister, he determined to carry on his game, now that he had proceeded so far. He took, however, a long drink out of his tumbler, to give him fresh courage, and then returned to the charge.
“Who talked of murdering you? But, if you bellow in that way, I’ll gag you. It’s a great deal I’m asking, indeed—that, when I’m your only guardian, my advice should be asked for before you throw away your money on a low ruffian. You’re more fit for a mad-house than to be any man’s wife; and, by Heaven, that’s where I’ll put you, if you don’t give me the promise I ask! Will you swear you’ll marry no one without my leave?”
Poor Anty shook with fear as she sate, with her eyes fixed on her brother’s face. He was nearly drunk now, and she felt that he was so,—and he looked so hot and so fierce—so red and cruel, that she was all but paralysed. Nevertheless, she mustered strength to say,
“Let me go, now, Barry, and, to-morrow, I’ll tell you everything—indeed I will—and I’ll thry to do all you’d have me; indeed, and indeed, I will! Only do let me go now, for you’ve frighted me.”
“You’re likely to be more frighted yet, as you call it! And be tramping along the roads, I suppose, with Martin Kelly, before the morning. No! I’ll have an answer from you, any way. I’ve a right to that!”
“Oh, Barry!—What is it you want?—Pray let me go—pray, pray, for the love of the blessed Jesus, let me go.”
“I’ll tell you where you’ll go, and that’s into Ballinasloe mad-house! Now, mark me—so help me—I’ll set off with you this night, and have you there in the morning—as an idiot as you are, if you won’t make the promise I’m telling you!”
By this time Anty’s presence of mind had clean left her. Indeed, all the faculties of her reason had vanished; and, as she saw her brother’s scowling face so near her own, and heard him threatening to drag her to a mad-house, she put her hands before her eyes, and made one rush to escape from him—to the door—to the window—anywhere to get out of his reach.
Barry was quite drunk now. Had he not been so, even he would hardly have done what he then did. As she endeavoured to rush by him, he raised his fist, and struck her on the face, with all his force. The blow fell upon her hands, as they were crossed over her face; but the force of the blow knocked her down, and she fell upon the floor, senseless, striking the back of her head against the table.