‘Then all I say is, Heaven help the people at Oporto; they’ll have more to answer for even than most men.’
It was nigh dawn when they parted, Kearney muttering to himself as he sauntered back to the inn, ‘If port like that is the drink of the Tories, they must be good fellows with all their prejudices.’
‘I’ll be shot if I don’t like that rebel,’ said Flood as he went to bed.
CHAPTER LVI
BEFORE THE DOOR
Though Lord Kilgobbin, when he awoke somewhat late in the afternoon, did not exactly complain of headache, he was free to admit that his faculties were slightly clouded, and that his memory was not to the desired extent retentive of all that passed on the preceding night. Indeed, beyond the fact—which he reiterated with great energy—that ‘old Flood, Tory though he was, was a good fellow, an excellent fellow, and had a marvellous bin of port wine,’ his son Dick was totally unable to get any information from him. ‘Bigot, if you like, or Blue Protestant, and all the rest of it; but a fine hearty old soul, and an Irishman to the heart’s core!’ That was the sum of information which a two hours’ close cross-examination elicited; and Dick was sulkily about to leave the room in blank disappointment when the old man suddenly amazed him by asking: ‘And do you tell me that you have been lounging about the town all the morning and have learned nothing? Were you down to the gaol? Have you seen O’Shea? What’s his account of it? Who began the row? Has he any bones broken? Do you know anything at all?’ cried he, as the blank look of the astonished youth seemed to imply utter ignorance, as well as dismay.
‘First of all,’ said Dick, drawing a long breath, ‘I have not seen O’Shea; nobody is admitted to see him. His injuries about the head are so severe the doctors are in dread of erysipelas.’
‘What if he had? Have not every one of us had the erysipelas some time or other; and, barring the itching, what’s the great harm?’
‘The doctors declare that if it come, they will not answer for his life.’