“And I hope I may come, too, Mr. Joyce,” said Dick, “now that you know me.”
“Ye’ll be welkim, sir.”
We all shook hands, coming away; but as we turned to go home, at the gate we had a surprise. There, in the boreen, stood Murdock—livid with fury. He attacked Dick with a tirade of the utmost virulence. He called him every name he could lay his tongue to—traitor, liar, thief, and indeed exhausted the whole terminology of abuse, and accused him of stealing his secrets and of betraying his trust. Dick bore the ordeal splendidly; he never turned a hair, but calmly went on smoking his cigar. When Murdock had somewhat exhausted himself and stopped, he said calmly:—
“My good fellow, now that your ill-manners are exhausted, perhaps you will tell me what it is all about?”
Whereupon Murdock opened again the vials of his wrath. This time he dragged us all into it—I had been brought in as a spy, to help in betraying him, and Joyce had suborned him to the act of treachery. For myself I fired up at once, and would have struck him, only that Dick laid his hand on me, and in a whisper cautioned me to desist.
“Easy, old man—easy! Don’t spoil a good position. What does it matter what a man like that can say? Give him rope enough! we’ll have our turn in time, don’t fear!”
I held back, but unfortunately Joyce pressed forwards. He had his say pretty plainly.
“What do ye mane, ye ill-tongued scoundhrel, comin’ here to make a quarrel? Why don’t ye shtay on the land you have robbed from me, and lave us alone? I am not like these gintlemen here, that can afford to hould their tongues and despise ye—I’m a man like yerself, though I hope I’m not the wolf that ye are—fattenin’ on the blood of the poor! How dare you say I suborned any one—me that never told a lie, or done a dirty thing in me life? I tell you, Murtagh Murdock, I put my mark upon ye once—I see it now comin’ up white through the red of yer passion! Don’t provoke me further, or I’ll put another mark on ye that ye’ll carry to yer grave!”
No one said a word more. Murdock moved off and entered his own house; Dick and I said “good night” to Joyce again, and went down the boreen.